#kvanity

[hannieween]

emergency contact | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: dilf jeonghan, boyfriend jeonghan, jeonghan is a girl dad › genres: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 23k

READ PART ONE HERE

› warnings: toxic family dynamics: jeonghan's ex is a bad person in general (a neglectful parent), talks about speech therapy, speech impediment. jeonghan is an idiot. reader is emotionally constipated. so there's A LOT OF drama.

› smut warnings: smut with plot (this part has more plot than the previous one, you're warned), they're both crazy for each other, dirty talk, pussy eating, jeonghan is pussy drunk, quickies, make up sex, breeding kink, cowgirl, daddy kink, edging, bathroom sex, silence play, unprotected p in v sex (i'm such a bad influence, wrap it up!), creampies, mating press, yn is slightly 🤏🏻 bratty, dom jeonghan, aftercare. pet names: babe, baby, beautiful, darling, sweetheart, (hers) babe, daddy (his)

› author's note: hiiii! i'm here to say thank you guys for the support in the pineapple on pizza? post! it was really nice to see that so many of you enjoyed it, so here is a part two! honestly i enjoyed writing dilf!hannie quite a lot and couldn't get him out of my brain for months so here it is, a part two lol. and this chapter is looooong, so buckle in!

also another note: this is incredibly self indulgent. like everything i write. but i think this one takes the cake.

› disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

“Have you seen my keys?”

Morning routines were always a mess. Something different happened every time, and somehow, even though you’ve done this more than a dozen times, it was still hard to catch up.

But you were getting the hang of it.

The apartment was a controlled chaos, as you liked calling it. The air smelled of coffee and the soft fragrance that Jeonghan wore to work. Repetition was starting to have its effect as you began to associate your mornings with those two scents.

“Have you tried looking under the couch?” you asked, turning around with a small bowl in your hands. You placed it carefully on the small tabletop of Sohee’s booster seat and watched quietly as she sank her little spoon into her bowl of cereal and milk.

“I should’ve added more milk,” you mumbled, biting on the inside of your cheek.

The little girl didn’t seem to notice, though. She ate happily, kicking her feet in the air and clapping her tiny hands together as she chewed, milk dripping from the corners of her pouty mouth.

You heard a sigh, and then the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, and you lifted your head.

Jeonghan was still buttoning his perfectly ironed shirt, his hands going lower and lower, distracting you from your initial task. You felt your lips parting before forcing any kind of control onto your facial expression. His black trousers were also yet to be fixed, but as he finished buttoning his shirt, he tucked it inside his pants, quickly fastening his belt.

You lowered your gaze to the little girl slamming her palms onto the tabletop. Sohee was dancing happily. And you were glad that you had zero witnesses to your ogling your boyfriend quite shamelessly.

You brushed crumbs off the table, picked up the empty bowl and put it away. “Alright,” you said with a sigh, pretending to be deeply focused on the morning routine. “Did you find them?”

When you looked up, you found that Jeonghan had also been staring. His eyes were trained on the scene happening before him. His mouth parted, and he appeared to be confused for a split second—giving himself a very brief shake. “Yeah,” he smiled shyly and patted the pocket of his trousers. “Under the bed.”

“Huh,” you grinned. “How could they have gotten there?” you asked, innocently tilting your head.

Jeonghan sighed. The smile was still glued to his face, but it slowly brushed off as he raised his wrist to his face, looking at his watch. “I’m late,” he said, delivering the words with an annoyed edge in his tone. “Fuck. I’m so late,” he added, turning around to grab the jacket that had been previously placed on the couch.

Panic rushed in your veins. It was a big day for Jeonghan at his work—he had a big meeting in which it was certain that he would get some good news about a project that he had proposed for the company he worked for. You knew what this meant for him.

You looked at the time. His shift started earlier than yours did, and with another twist to your stomach, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to drop Sohee off at the daycare and then make it on time to his meeting.

“Go. I’ll drop Sohee at daycare,” you blurted right as he was throwing Sohee’s things into her bag.

His gaze snapped up and locked onto your face. The shock was flitting, but you were able to catch it before he blinked and parted his mouth to say something.

But you were quicker— “Here. Take my car and I’ll take yours so I can put Sohee in her car seat. We can switch later,” you said, stumbling over your words as you fished your car keys from the pocket of your smart trousers, handing them to him.

Jeonghan straightened, fixing the wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose—you always went a little crazy when he did that—but this time he placed his hands on his hips, his face thoughtful, calculating. “Are you sure? I don’t want to cause an inconvenience with—”

“Babe, you’re not causing anything,” you insisted, thrusting your fist holding the keys into the space between you and him. “Take my car. Go to your meeting. I’ve got Sohee.”

At that, Jeonghan’s face relaxed, starting to approach you with a softened look on his face—like he could melt just at the sight of you. He took the keys from your hand.  “You’re godsent, did you know that?” he asked, his tone low as he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you to his body.

“I’m just here to help,” you said lightly, meeting his gaze as he bent his head to meet your lips with his own.

Jeonghan gave you one feathery kiss. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered, pushing his lips on yours again. “Be careful, okay? Call me if anything happens.”

You smiled against his lips. “I got this,” you repeated in a sweeter tone.

Part of you was sure that Jeonghan knew this as well. But Sohee was his entire world. And he was quite literally leaving her in your hands. 

And you were unsure as to what to think about it.

Jeonghan turned, peeling himself from your lips with a begrudged groan and placed a kiss on top of Sohee’s head. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” he cooed gently.

Your tummy twisted again. This time, the reaction was from the way Jeonghan switched into dad mode in the blink of an eye. The switch from hot boyfriend to diligent father never failed to mess with you.

Sohee lifted her head, her eyes looking at her dad, but she didn’t respond.

“Be good today, okay? Eat all of your meals and try not to miss me too much,” Jeonghan insisted, trying to get her to utter something. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Byeee,” he cooed again.

But Sohee kept looking at her father fixedly.

“Sweetheart, say bye,” Jeonghan encouraged Sohee again, this time lower but still gentle.

“Maybe she’s not feeling it today, babe,” you muttered behind him.

A few weeks ago, Jeonghan confided in you that he started to notice that Sohee often froze at the moment of speaking full sentences. Initially, he had brushed it off, thinking that his daughter was innately shy, just like himself. But as months passed by and she continued developing other social skills, he began to believe that it was something else.

“Right,” Jeonghan mumbled, not hiding the slight look of worry on his face. But he leaned and propped another kiss on her forehead before stepping back. He kissed you on the cheek, handing you the keys to his car.

“Good luck,” you mumbled, and he replied with a quick nod. You and Sohee watched quietly as Jeonghan slipped through the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you realized what you had gotten yourself into. It was supposed to be a simple task, yes. But it had a thousand layers of meaning beneath it. Taking Sohee to daycare was something you could do every day, gladly—but something felt off.

Like you were starting to cross a line, and neither Jeonghan nor you knew how to talk about it.

Taking Sohee to her daycare was one thing—driving Jeonghan’s SUV was another.

It wasn’t a particularly daring task either, but it also put your nerves on edge. After fixing Sohee’s daycare bag and your own stuff, you grabbed her first, hoisting her up your hip, and then you swung your bag and Sohee’s on your shoulder.

“Ready to see your friends today, Sohee?” you asked, raising your tone into a sweet one. It felt practiced, and you remembered the first few times you ever did it—how it made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. But after a time, you could say that you understood why people would talk in a cute way to kids, it came naturally.

“Yeah,” Sohee replied, the word landing almost aloofly. Like you had just caught her in a moment where she didn’t find any barriers for her to speak.

You pushed the button of the elevator and slowly moved your head to look at her.

Sohee was a perfect little girl of almost three years of age. When you met her over half a year ago, you were sure you were holding a little angel. She was gentle and sweet. Her head was full of dark hair that matched her long eyelashes, just like her father’s.

“Oh, yeah? What are their names?” you asked, eyeing her as you stepped into the elevator with her still attached to your hip.

“Dany,” she mumbled perfectly, raising her tone as though she were about to make a list of names.

“Dany? Okay, and who else?”

“Nora,” she said, quieter this time.

The elevator paused on its way down, opening the doors for another person to step in. You knew the conversation was over.

Sohee fell silent, lowering her gaze from you and fixing it on one point on your shirt. You realized after a few seconds that she was staring at your hand, at your painted fingernails. What made you certain was the way she raised her hands to her gaze, comparing her fingernails to your own.

Something twisted inside you, the idea of her and you doing each other’s nails dawned in your head. And you knew what that pang in your stomach was—possibility. You were thinking of the future.

“Here we go,” you mumbled as you approached Jeonghan’s navy blue Kia Seltos. The fresh smell of new and clean leather still lingered inside it as you opened the door and put Sohee in her chair.

She never complained, just quietly sat on the chair and looked at you as you fixed the buckle of her safety belt.

“Safety first,” you said, trying to fill in the silence. You grabbed one of the toys from the toy basket sitting beneath her seat and showed it to her. “Look, it’s Rory!” you cried dramatically, showing her the dinosaur plushie that you knew she loved.

Sohee extended her arms and made grabby hands at the green and very cute T. rex. She didn’t speak again, no matter how hard you tried to get her to say something.

The parking lot was buzzing with activity, cars coming and going, hustling parents coming in and out of the building, dropping their kids off—and you for sure felt like a fish out of water, but you didn’t want to entertain the thought for too long. You signed Sohee in without an issue—the staff mentioned that as you were dropping Sohee off, Jeonghan had phoned them to let them know you were coming in his stead.

You soothed Sohee’s hair and gave her a quick kiss on her head as she scrunched her fingers on your back, almost affectionately. “You be good, sweetie,” you said before leaving her and turning to the parking lot, feeling strangely empty when you climbed inside the SUV.

You carried out work as usual. You didn’t think about the odd feeling clawing at your heart for the rest of the morning. The second the clock hit one o’clock, your phone started vibrating, snapping you out of your monitor screen. You scrambled to get your phone, only to see Jeonghan’s face on the screen.

“Hello?” you responded with a hushed tone, looking over to see if you had interrupted the workflow in the office. But you realized the space was nearly empty, and everyone had left for lunch.

“Am I interrupting?” Jeonghan noticed immediately by your tone alone.

“No. I just didn’t look at the time,” you told him, pushing yourself off the chair and walking in the direction of the elevator.

“Oh, I see. Is this still a good time to speak with you?” he asked.

You smirked at his choice of words. “I don’t know, you tell me. Is this a good time for you?” you retorted, noticing that he was also in his cubicle.

“You got me,” he said, and you could imagine the shy smile on his face. “I’m stepping outside, hold on.”

You pushed the button to the elevator and waited while on the other side of the line, you heard Jeonghan moving.

“Okay, I’m out,” he said with a sigh. “Are you going to the food court?” he asked.

Jeonghan knew your schedule well, and he was also very familiar with your routine since you always kept him in the loop of the things you did. When you started dating, you would quite practically narrate to him your daily life through text messages, to the point that he knew all of your co-workers by name without knowing them in person.

“Yes,” you replied, stepping out of the elevator.

“Chicken salad?” he asked with a low tone, making you think that he probably had some co-worker passed him by.

“Oh, I think I’m moving on from that,” you told him. “I want a burrito. A chicken burrito.”

“Oof, how different,” he teased.

“Let me be,” you bit back and then frowned, suspecting something was off.

“I will. But I’m going to tease you about it either way,” he said with a brief laugh. “How is work going?”

“Fine,” you replied simply. But it was then that you dared to ask, “Is something going on, babe? You’re never this weird.”

Jeonghan sighed, and you knew he was smiling. “Am I being that obvious?” he said, and then, before you could say something, he continued. “I just wanted to tell you to come tonight and have dinner with Sohee and me.”

“Mmn, why do I feel like this could’ve been a text,” you said as you sat down at an empty table that was cluttered with a tray and a single French fry sitting on its box.

He laughed. “I am trying to get somewhere here,” he said.

“You’re taking a lot of detours!” you laughed with him. “Of course, babe. You know I love having dinner with you and Sohee.”

“Good. Great,” he mumbled, and something about the dejected way his words came out made your ears perk.

A long moment of silence happened between you, where you could hear the sound of his breathing and nothing else. Your gaze fell out of focus, landing on a single grain of salt on the dirty table in the very crowded food court.

“Is everything alright, babe?” you asked, your tone lower. “Did the meeting go well?”

“Yeah. It’s not that. I want—” he cut himself off, but then, “I want us to talk,” he said.

Your heart fell to your stomach, the feeling so impactful that it left you completely stunned. There was nothing in the world that could replace the feeling you’d get when you heard the words we need to talk, and all of its variations.

“Oh, then—t-that changes things,” you mumbled awkwardly, not forgoing that he ignored your initial question.

“Wait, no,” he started, noticing the tension in your words. “It’s nothing bad.”

“Okay,” you said under a heavy sigh. “Then tell me now,” you said.

“I’d rather wait until tonight—”

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked instead. And perhaps you could’ve controlled yourself better, but you were fully induced in anxiety now.

“No. I swear it’s nothing bad,” he told you firmly. “It’s something I have been wanting to ask you.”

You started toying with the lonely grain of salt with the tip of your finger. “If it really is nothing bad, then you could ask me now,” you said, fully aware of how shaky your tone was.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, stretching out each word.

“Very.”

Jeonghan sighed and then paused. You could picture him clearly—standing on the balcony of the building where he worked, looking very polished on the outside but probably tense, judging by his tone alone.

“I was just thinking that we’re always so busy, you with work and me with—well, with everything and…” You heard him pause, and then release a sigh, and that’s how you knew he was also steadying himself. “I wanted to know if you would like to move in with us. With Sohee and me.”

In all of the things you could’ve possibly imagined him saying, this wasn’t one of them. You straightened in your seat as a chill ran down your spine. “Jeonghan, are you serious?” you asked, unable to control how firm you sounded.

“I don’t mean now, but sometime in the future. We can plan and see how things go from there,” he offered, and he sounded steady, but you could notice the slight edge of nervousness in it.

The feeling invading your body made you feel as if you had been dropped from a very tall building.

“Babe…” you started, looking for the words to say.

“It’s okay if you want to say no,” he said. “I just wanted to talk about it with you tonight over dinner.”

You closed your eyes, swallowing hard. “I’m not saying no,” you told him.

“You’re not saying yes either,” he sighed in defeat. “I’m rushing into things.”

Your chest caved in. You wanted to say yes, you wanted this. But there were so many things that you thought needed to happen before you moved in with him and his daughter. In your book, things like the first I love you had to happen before sharing a roof with that person. Or at least knowing them for a full year.

Oh, and the judgment. Your friends already thought you were insane for dating a single parent, and now you were moving in with him eight months after meeting him? Not only that, your whole life had taken a turn when you started dating Jeonghan—to the point that the person you were a year ago wouldn’t recognize the person you were now.

“Can we talk about it tonight over dinner?” you asked, your tone tiny.

“Of course. We can talk about it more calmly,” he said, and you couldn’t ignore the note of sadness in his words. “I get it, baby. I should’ve waited. I’m sorry.”

“No, Jeonghan. You did nothing wrong,” you said, but then something felt off.

“Listen, I have to go back. See you tonight?” he asked, and you caught the way his tone picked up. Something had come up.

You deflated completely. “See you tonight, Jeonghan.”

And then something hung in the air. An unspoken thing between you, something that needed to be said.

Your heart started to hope.

But then the line went dead.

There was a thought that you couldn’t quite keep away. When you met Jeonghan, you instantly knew this man was for you—every bone, every nerve ending in your body told you that. Then, when you knew he was a single father, you knew that a relationship with him would be challenging. But it turned out to be easier than expected.

However, things started to shift from the first night you and he took things to the next level. Spending the night in his bed was a very conscious decision you both made. You were both ready, and truth be told, aching for each other. What you didn’t foresee was that you were climbing those steps into a serious relationship without paying attention to how fast and how uncontrolled you were.

Now, it felt as though you were in too deep, but there were no rules or boundaries in place.

You gnawed on your lower lip, debating whether to write him a text telling him that you knew he meant well by his proposition.

Instead, you got up and went to the nearest convenience store, got a sandwich, and ate half of it on the elevator ride back to your office.

The rest of your shift happened in a blink. Thankfully, you were so busy that the aftermath of that call with Jeonghan was pushed to the second plane of your brain. You would sometimes remember it with a jolt in your stomach. And he also didn’t text you afterwards, which meant that he was also probably busy—or that’s what you wanted to believe anyway.

You came out of the office some four hours after the phone call, scrambling inside your handbag to get your car keys.

Your phone started vibrating furiously somewhere in one of the many pockets, your heart deflating stressfully in the thought that it could possibly be Jeonghan. A flashing thought drove that anxiousness right into your soul, telling you that he would be telling you that tonight’s plans were off.

But it was an unknown caller. And you picked up solely on the thought that it would be a work-related thing.

“Yes?” you said, putting your bag on top of the trunk of your car.

The caller was a woman with a very polite tone, asking for you using your full name.

“This is her,” you replied almost routinely.

“Hi! This is Katy from the Speech and Learning Center. Am I speaking to Sohee’s mother?”

“Oh—” you gasped, leaving the task of finding your keys completely abandoned due to the sheer shock that question gave you. “No. I’m her father’s partner. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no. Everything is fine. I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Katy responded kindly. “We have you on Sohee’s file as the emergency contact in case her father doesn’t answer, and we’ve tried him three times just now, but no answer. Are you able to make choices about her appointments with us?”

“God,” you mouthed to yourself, screwing your eyes shut. “Um, Sohee’s birthday is on Friday, so Thursday would probably be better,” you responded automatically, and then you stopped yourself with a shake. “But I think you should try her father again.”

But then you remembered—Jeonghan had mentioned a very important meeting, the one where his boss would determine whether he had the promotion or not.

“I believe he was in a meeting. Maybe you should try in…” you checked your watch. “Twenty minutes. He should be off by then.”

“Understood. I will call him instead. Well, I thank you for picking up this call and wish you a good rest of your day. Bye!”

“Thanks. You too,” you replied shakily.

And then she hung up.

The drive to Jeonghan’s apartment felt like an out-of-body experience. You felt yourself driving, but at the same time, your mind was somewhere else. After being hit with two reality checks, one after another, you were reconsidering what to do, what to say to Jeonghan once you saw him.

He had assigned you as Sohee’s emergency contact. Not her grandmother, not her aunt. And certainly not her mother. You.

It shouldn’t be a big deal—maybe you were making it into a big deal. But after Jeonghan had told you he wanted you to move in with him and his daughter, this just felt like too much.

You turned the doorknob of his apartment door as you released a shaky sigh, trying to drive out all your nervousness. But as you entered and laid eyes on him, you knew it would be impossible not to be nervous for the remainder of the night.

Jeonghan was sitting on the couch, baby Sohee sitting safely on his thigh as he held a triceratops in one hand, making it clash gently against Sohee’s brontosaurus. His gaze immediately switched to the door as you crossed it. Then tension set in, making the features of his face harden.

And you probably were mirroring that same expression. You closed the door behind you quietly and removed your shoes by the entrance.

Jeonghan placed Sohee on the couch carefully as you walked to the living room, feeling strange.

“Hey,” he said, reading your face with his eyes.

Your heart was racing incredibly fast. “Hi,” you replied.

“I got it,” he said with a big sigh.

Understanding dawned on you with a blink. “You got promoted?”

He nodded, but his expression was still blank.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, thinking that the tension in his demeanor was due to the call from earlier. “Congratulations!” you said excitedly, going for a hug.

Jeonghan didn’t appear to be happy, not precisely. But he wrapped your torso in his arms, hugging you tightly. “Thank you, baby,” he sighed, sinking his face into the crook of your neck.

Then you felt a pair of tiny hands palming your leg intuitively. You pulled away from Jeonghan’s arms, looking down to spot Sohee trying to get your attention.

“I think she’s feeling left out,” Jeonghan interpreted keenly.

“Oh, my bad,” you giggled and bent down to hug her. “Come here, princess,” you spoke softly to her as you lifted her in your arms.

“Look,” Sohee said quietly, showing you a new dinosaur toy.

“Wow, what is this?” you asked her, your tone turning into honey.

“Saurus,” she mumbled shyly, still showing you her dinosaur figurine.

“A stegosaurus,” Jeonghan informed you quietly as he watched you carry Sohee in your arms. And there was that look again. The one you had seen in the morning. He was watching intently, calmly—like he wanted to remember this moment forever without missing a thing.

“This is so cool,” you told her, still using that tone. “Is this the one you liked the most?” you asked her.

She listened to you intently, but her gaze was fixed on her figurine. She shook her head.

“Show her your favorite one, sweetheart,” Jeonghan said as you placed her back on the floor.

She ran back to the couch, grabbed the forgotten dinosaur and brought it back to you. You crouched to be at eye level with her as she showed you a new Triceratops.

“Did you just get these?” you asked her sweetly, your tummy twisting in cuteness aggression as she just nodded, ruffling her black hair.

“It was one of her birthday gifts. I thought that it would be safe to keep them stashed in my closet, but I guess that I should’ve known better,” he said guiltily, crouching with you as Sohee went on to show you her new collection of dinosaur toys.

“You’re a very observant girl, aren’t you?” you asked her, to which she ignored completely.

You could feel Jeonghan beside you, his gaze set on you as you continued your silent exchange with Sohee. After some seconds of feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you glanced to his direction.

“Can we talk?” he whispered as soon as he caught your eye.

You nodded, tummy twisting uneasily.

Jeonghan opened and then closed the fridge in one short motion. He placed his empty hands on his hips as he released a sigh. You noticed then that he was anxious. “Sohee’s mother is coming to town.”

You froze in place.

Of course. You should’ve expected her to be for her daughter’s birthday. But part of you was also completely vexed about this piece of information—since you had believed for a moment that Jeonghan wanted to talk about the proposal he’d made earlier. But Sohee’s mother rarely called, to the point that in the eight months you’ve been dating Jeonghan, you had never even seen her in person.

“Oh, I see,” you said, swallowing hard. And then you added quite awkwardly: “Is she… did you… Did she call to see what you would do for Sohee’s birthday?”

Jeonghan understood where your curiosity came from. But he was still looking at you wearily, just like all the times he talked to you about a difficult thing in his life. Like the time he told you about his daughter, or the time he told you about Sohee’s absent mother.

It made your stomach churn.

And you knew what it was. It was selfishness.

“No. I called her,” he said. You knew that he was telling you the truth, and in doing so, he was nervous. “Sohee’s birthday is one of the few times I can get her mother to come see her, so…”

“I understand,” you said, resuming to set the table with the tablecloth and the dishware. “Do you… want me here that day?”

“Of course I do,” he said. You glanced his way, seeing his worried face—his eyebrows knitting softly. “Do you want to be here?”

“As long as you are comfortable with it, yes,” you said, and then added: “I just don’t want to complicate things.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Believe me, things can’t get more complicated with her. Soomin is just…” he shook his head lightly. “Well, you’ll see.”

You exhaled sharply. “Okay… no pressure,” you mumbled.

All you knew about Soomin was that she was not present in Sohee and Jeonghan’s lives from the moment Sohee turned eight months old. Her reason for parting and leaving everything behind was simply—I don’t want this life—and one day she packed her bags and left. Some months later, Jeonghan asked her for full custody of the baby, receiving it without any fight from her.

“Is she coming the day of?” you asked.

“On Thursday afternoon, after Sohee’s therapy,” he said. And then you noticed that the anxiety hadn’t quite brushed off. “I want you to meet her that day. That way we can have the party without any issues, if any.”

You raised your eyebrows, watching him from the other side of the table. “That bad?”

He nodded silently, throwing a look to the living room, where Sohee was dancing around to the music playing on the TV screen. “I just don’t want her to make a scene on Sohee’s birthday, you know? It’s supposed to be her day.”

The tension in your shoulders dissolved when you turned over your shoulder and saw baby Sohee bending her knees to the rhythm of the music, her tiny hands planted on the sofa to keep herself steady as she danced happily. Your stomach twisted with the realization that you loved Sohee in a way that you wanted to protect her, care for her.

You had gotten irrevocably attached.

You took a deep breath, slowly turning to see Jeonghan. “Don’t worry, babe,” you told him, smiling at him as you approached him again. “We’ll make Sohee’s day just about her, alright?” you said, pushing yourself to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Jeonghan smiled softly. “Alright,” he said.

You stared at that smile on his face for one long second, and slowly, the memory of the phone call from earlier came back to your mind. Your heart faltered. You carefully thought of how to open the conversation, but nerves got the better of you first— “About earlier…” you said in a whisper, pausing to clear your throat. “Were you serious? About me moving in?”

Jeonghan inhaled slowly, blinking away from your face briefly, glancing to where his daughter was in the living room. “We don’t have to rush,” he said, licking his lips before turning his gaze back to you. “It’s a big step, but it makes sense, right? I mean, you’re already here all the time…”

You studied him for a brief moment. You were hearing him, but all you could think about was the way his shoulders were tight, the way he was gripping the back of the chair with one hand. And more than everything else—the way he wasn’t meeting your eyes.

“It feels fast, Jeonghan,” you said carefully.

“It feels right,” he countered, taking one step towards you. His face had changed now that you could see him with more closeness—his dark eyes were full of certainty, full of tenderness. “I want you here. With us. You’re already here all the time, you do morning routines with us, put her in bed, and drop-offs…”

Your chest tightened. Something felt off. And then by pure instinct, you glanced at Sohee. The baby had stopped moving, her gaze fixed on the flat screen mounted on the wall, sticking her index finger in her mouth quite aloofly.

But the sight of her made your tummy twist even harder. It was the realization hitting you like a train. If you lost this—if Jeonghan and you ever get to a point where you split, you would lose Sohee as well. The mere thought threatened to break your heart.

His gaze shifted—and without following it, you knew that he was looking at Sohee. “I’m just… scared of doing this wrong way, you know?”

You reached for his face, cupping it with your hands to draw his gaze back to you again. “Then we should slow down,” you said, your heart protesting against your words with a stabbing pain. “Just a little.”

He swallowed hard. “Okay,” he breathed.

“Yeah?” you replied in kind. “We slow down for just a little while. We could talk about it again when the timing feels right.”

Jeonghan grabbed one of your wrists, squeezing it gently. He looked relieved, so much so that the next sigh he let out was slow as he leaned his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want is to rush you,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you replied, despite your heart deflating a little. “I understand. Just know that I’m not saying no. Okay?” you said, raising your tone just a little bit higher, trying to swallow your nerves.

“Okay,” Jeonghan replied with a breathy giggle, hearing your nervous tone.

You felt his lips grazing yours before he kissed you fully. It was then that you felt those three littlewords sitting on the tip of your tongue. You were falling for him, fast and uncontrollably. But instead of telling him that, you pushed your lips against his, kissing him fervently.

But then a sharp, and very high-pitched laugh pulled you both apart. Baby Sohee was laughing at something happening on the TV. You broke away and stepped back from Jeonghan.

“I’ll… bring her to her chair so she can have dinner,” Jeonghan said. And by the look in his eyes, you knew that there was something else on his mind.

You let out a tired breath. “What a Monday,” you sighed.

“Welcome to my life,” Jeonghan replied.  

After dinner, Jeonghan started to ready Sohee for bed, and that usually involved a bath, brushing teeth and then bed. It took him around thirty or forty minutes. And in that time, you usually took it upon yourself to tidy the space up. Initially, you had started doing it to kill the time while waiting for Jeonghan to come back—despite his insistence for you not to do it—but lately, it felt like it was part of your routine too.

You had put all of Sohee’s toys in the basket, folded the blankets and were now doing the dishes. The task had fallen into a steady rhythm, and so you were deeply focused on washing a pan when a pair of arms snaked around your waist, startling you.

“Stay the night,” Jeonghan said, his tone low as he bent his head to rest it on your shoulder. 

Your tummy twisted.

Ever since you slept with Jeonghan for the first time, you had fallen into a pattern of addiction. You would stay over at every chance you could get, which, granted, weren’t as many since you had a very hectic work schedule as a CEO Assistant and he as a single parent, and now newly ascended to Director. But even as you had finally stepped to that level of intimacy, it was life that constantly would get in the way. It wasn’t as easy to find a time for you to come to his apartment, and it would be nearly impossible for Jeonghan to spend the night at yours.

You felt his lips grazing a particular tender spot on the crook of your neck. “Hannie,” you sighed, recoiling from his sweet kisses.

“What?” he mumbled against your skin, you could tell from his tone that he was smiling. But he didn’t stop kissing your neck slowly.

You swore you could melt. When you took too long to respond, he giggled gently against your skin.

“Want me to stop?”

You had already scrubbed every inch of the pan you were holding under the stream of water; the task had been long forgotten. “No, I want you to let me finish doing the dishes,” you replied with a playful tone.

“Alright, my bad,” he said, stepping back from you and starting to put things away in the kitchen.

You watched him through the corner of your eye as he roamed all over the space. Feeling the absence of his touch on your skin made you swallow hard. “I didn’t say you had to stop,” you mumbled, feeling hot on the cheeks.

Jeonghan huffed, clearly still amused. “Baby, we’ve been going like this for weeks,” he said pointedly, then chuckled as he threw a look at your face, finding your pout.

Since the night when you slept with Jeonghan for the first time, you have had very few occasions of true intimacy. However, that didn’t stop Jeonghan from teasing you, touching you in places he hadn’t dared before that night, but now he did it at every chance he could get when no one else was looking.

It got you nervous. You liked him too much. Every time he touched you intimately, your mind would be thrown back to those nights where it was just you and Jeonghan. It made your blood dance, heating your entire body.

Only Jeonghan had that power.

You placed the last item on the drying rack and grabbed the hand towel, drying your hands before returning it to its place. “Fine, I’m done doing the dishes,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “Where were we?”

Jeonghan let out a teasing huff. “You’re cute,” he said with a chuckle.

“You’re a tease,” you bit back, trying to sound as annoyed as you could, but instead your tone denoted how flustered you already were.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you, the smirk not washing off his face. “So? Are you staying or not?” he asked, his tone still playful.

“Only if you behave,” you said impishly.

Jeonghan raised his eyebrows, stepping closer to you. “Me?” he asked, his tone rising. He was close enough now that all he had to do was lift his hand to cup your face, fixing your gaze on him. “All I do is what you tell me, baby,” he said, his tone so low and raspy it was almost like a purr.

“So whenever you misbehave, is it because I told you to?” you huffed, not caring that his face was closer to yours now.

He smirked slowly as his eyes outlined your face. “Obviously,” he shrugged lightly. He finally closed the space between your lips and his, kissing you tenderly. “I always behave. While you, on the other hand…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, his gaze dipping to look at your lips briefly before he kissed you again. You smiled into the kiss, despite it being chaste in the way that he was only pressing his lips to yours repeatedly, creating soft, wet noises that only incited you to get more.

“Babe,” you muttered, laughing sweetly. “Kiss me properly,” you told him.

Jeonghan didn’t waste a second. Repositioning his hands around your face, he only leaned in, locking his lips with yours. His kiss was soft, but slow, wet, and so full of heat. You closed your eyes and let him dominate the kiss, parting your mouth when you felt the tip of his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and then you felt his tongue against yours.

Your legs tensed as an automatic response, a shot of arousal coursing through you like lightning. His hands switched from cupping your cheeks to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. That made a silent moan bubble in your mouth, so you grabbed him by the belt in his jeans, pulling him closer to you.

Jeonghan grunted in your mouth and then pushed you to the kitchen counter by simply taking two steps forward, making you take two steps back. His lips took yours with more vehemency now, kissing you deeply, with a very unique urgency. It made you lose control, it made you feel hot all over.

So you pulled back, but not far. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” you said breathily, running a hand over his clothed chest.

Jeonghan smiled, making you think that he’d say something about your nervousness again. But he grabbed your hand, “Alright,” he said, and then he pulled you in the direction of his bedroom.

Whenever you stayed the night, you would wear Jeonghan’s clothes—mostly oversized t-shirts and sometimes sporty shorts. So much so that you’d noticed Jeonghan kept the clothes he’d lent you in a particular spot in his closet, making you suspect that he probably had stopped wearing them, only to keep them clean in case you came to stay the night.

Your gut twisted when Jeonghan pulled the same oversized t-shirt and handed it to you. “You know, you could bring some stuff in. I’ll empty a drawer for you,” he mumbled, turning on the bedside lamp.

He always said something akin to those words whenever he had the opportunity. It reminded you of his other request—of moving in. “Yeah, I’ll bring some spare pyjamas,” you replied nervously, turning on your feet to start unbuttoning your shirt.

“And maybe clothes for work?” he asked, and you could hear the hint of hope in his tone.

You already had a toothbrush and makeup remover wipes that you once bought to keep in Jeonghan’s bathroom. That time you’d also felt you were stepping over a line, for some reason. But Jeonghan thought it was endearing that you had asked him for permission beforehand. You don’t have to ask, he told you every time.

“Yeah, that too,” you replied, sounding short of breath. When finished unbuttoning your shirt, you threw a look behind you, seeing that Jeonghan had just turned his gaze elsewhere in that instant. You smiled to yourself, noticing that he, too, was acting strange, fidgety.

Or perhaps it was just staying behind the line you always painted. That was another thing that drove you crazy about this man—he always waited for your word. But he kept a keen eye on you, certainly making sure that you were not having trouble initiating. And this time was no different.

You liked Jeonghan. No, you loved him. And tonight, with all those questions roaming about in your mind, questions about moving in, taking care of Sohee, meeting her mother… You were simply too much in your head.

And Jeonghan knew.

After brushing your teeth and cleaning your makeup off, you slid into the bed beside him. He was eyeing you and the screen of his phone back and forth, waiting for you. “Ready?” he asked.

Your stomach twisted again. “Huh?”

Jeonghan smiled at you. “To sleep?” he added.

“Ah. Yes. Oh, yeah,” you stuttered nervously, scooting closer to him.

Jeonghan left the phone on the bedside table and turned the lamp off. He turned around, draping an arm around your waist as you also turned, forming up a spooning situation where he was the bigger spoon. He kissed your shoulder over his clothes, and then your cheek.

“Did you have a good day at work?” he asked, his tone soft and low.

You blinked, turning slightly to look at him. “Yeah. Why?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Hopefully I didn’t distract you too much with my stupid phone call,” he said.

Your heart softened. “It was okay, babe. Today's work was nothing out of the ordinary,” you told him, and then showed him a playful smile. “And I love your phone calls.”

“No matter how inopportune they are?” he asked, his tone waning ever so softly.

You nodded. “They never are. Stupid or inopportune,” you replied, your tone waning too.

He paused, looking briefly at your lips before bringing a hand to pinch your chin softly. “Where were you my whole life?” he asked.

Your heart could burst. You wanted to say a million things to him. You wanted to tell him how you fell in love with him at first glance, you wanted to tell him you loved him.

But you choked up. “I could say the same,” you whispered. And you weren’t lying—despite having had other boyfriends in the past, you had never ever felt love like this in your life. It only made you think that Jeonghan hadn’t either. And the thought broke your heart.

He smiled, moving his head so he could touch your forehead with his. “I’m never letting you go, you hear me?” he said.

You nodded. “Never.” Please.

You and Jeonghan fell asleep shortly after that, going back to your original spooning position. He wrapped an arm around you, and you snuggled close to him under the covers. Sleeping with him was extraordinarily good—he never moved, never snored, and you were careful not to disrupt his sleeping either.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, you felt him stir and slip out of bed. You became too conscious about it because the bed grew colder around you, and it was getting harder to go back to sleep.

You turned over, thinking that you might’ve done something to wake him up. But he was nowhere to be seen. “Jeonghan?” you called.

He stepped into the bedroom, carefully leaving the door ajar. “Did I wake you?” he asked, his tone low.

You watched him as he came back to bed. “What’s wrong?” you asked instead.

He sucked in a breath when he felt your warm body, as though he had been exposed to a chill temperature. “Sohee’s mother called.”

“This late?” you asked. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She’s fine. I suppose she didn’t look up what our time zone was before calling,” he explained calmly.

“Well, what did she have to say?” you asked, feeling sharply awake now.

He slipped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him. His clothes were cold, as well as his skin. He was probably having the phone call outside on the balcony so as not to wake you or Sohee up. “A bunch of nothings. She cancelled Thursday’s plan. Said she’ll be meeting us at the party.”

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. “Did she say why?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Yeah. But it was all an excuse.”

Something inside you deflated with shame. Here you were, feeling relieved that you wouldn’t meet Soomin a day sooner; meanwhile, that also meant that Sohee wouldn’t see her mom either until the party. And Jeonghan’s lower tone reflected that pity.

“I’m sorry, babe,” you murmured.

“It’s fine. I had expected something like that,” he replied, but you could still hear the hurt in his tone. “She promised she’d be here for Sohee’s birthday. So, I’ll take whatever at this point.”

Now, you were even more reluctant to meet her. Your gut twisted, but before you could even process what type of feeling you were having, Jeonghan kissed your brow, easing the storm cooking up in your mind.

“Shall we go back to sleep, beautiful?” he whispered, moving his lips to kiss your eyelid, then your cheekbone.

Jeonghan was so sweet, so loving, that it scrambled your brains to think how he was yours.

His lips reached your cheek, and you moved your face so that the next kiss landed on your lips. He planted a sweet kiss, but then you parted your mouth, trapping his bottom lip in. You kissed him deeply, trying to put all of your feelings into one single kiss.

You wanted to show him that you were madly in love with him without having to say the words. You kissed him with such force that had him moaning in your mouth. He said nothing, only letting you lead as you pushed him by the shoulders, wordlessly telling him to lie on his back.

He gave you one confused look that quickly evaporated once you straddled him. His hands snaked on your thighs as you bent forward, taking his face in your hands to kiss him, moaning on his lips once his fingertips grazed the lace hem of your panties. The sound only gave him the green light to continue, exploring your skin with the pads of his fingers as he hiked the t-shirt up your torso.

You pulled back, but only to let him take the t-shirt off, leaving you only in your panties, and your chest bare for his view. His gaze roamed all over your bare skin, but it was for just a moment. You leaned in again, his hands latching to your waist, while the other fisted your hair by the side of your head.

You shifted on your knees, grounding your hips down on him—but just barely. Jeonghan was already hard, and you could feel him just by moving on top of him a little.

Dragging your fingernails down his chest, you crawled back to give yourself space to pull his shorts down. Your fingers hooked around the waistband of both his boxers and shorts, and you pulled, uncovering an inch of skin as one of your fingers traced a line over his thin but dark, happy trail.

Jeonghan sucked in a breath—but this time it was because of something else. “Sweetheart,” he mumbled, looking at your hands as you pulled his cock out, grabbing it with your other hand.

“Mn?” You raised your gaze to him.

His hands slipped on your hips, clutching you gently as you lifted them to move your panty line aside. “Condom?” he mumbled, groaning and clenching his jaw as you guided the head of his cock down your folds.

You pretended not to hear, lowering your hips and slipping him inside your warm walls, all in one go. And fuck, he was perfect—his cock was perfect too. The feeling of having him raw and stretching your pussy was the sweetest feeling you’ve ever felt. Your mouth fell open, eyebrows drawn together as you started bouncing on him gently.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gasped, closing his eyes before sinking his head back on his pillow.

You anchored your hands on his chest, using him as support to roll your hips on top of him. And yet again, you wondered what the scene would look like—middle of the night, his pants halfway pulled down, you bouncing on top of him with your panties still on and trying your best to be quiet.

But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan moved his hands from your hips, palming your breasts and caressing your pebbled nipples with the pad of his thumbs. You clenched your teeth together, letting out a soft whine as you ground your hips on him, trying to take his cock deeper into you.

“Quiet, baby,” he said, smirking. But then he moved his hands, one to your hip, the other on your lower abdomen. He pushed your panties further aside, pressing your lower belly with his palm before starting to rub your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck—Daddy,” you mewled, hips buckling on top of him.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his tone low. He glanced at your face once before his gaze dipped to your cunt, moaning at the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

You nodded, picking up the pace of your hips. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit steadily, not switching, unstopping. It was driving you closer to the edge with every second that passed, making your walls tighten around his girth.

“Is this what you wanted, baby? Daddy’s cock?” he asked with that lazy smile still on his face, his tone raw, but waning.

It drove you insane—the switch from being sweet and gentle to talking to you like that. “Mm-mmph,” you admitted.

He tilted his head back slightly, teeth clenched tightly as he tried to exert some control on himself. But as you continued rolling your hips on top of him, you saw him starting to fall apart—his eyes went white before he squeezed them shut. And then, he made a sound, a long, raspy moan that was stuck in his throat. “Baby, I’m not going to last long,” he said.

It was your turn to smile now. “That’s okay, Daddy,” you told him sweetly, and then you tilted your head, showing him a playful side. “I could slow down for you.”

Jeonghan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. “I don’t think that’ll make a difference,” he gritted, smiling despite himself.

His hands switched to your sides, lifting your hips with one powerful groan that rumbled in his chest. The sound made your pulse quicken, and your gaze immediately shot to the door, as though trying to fish for any kind of sounds coming from down the hall.

Jeonghan acted quickly—rolling your back onto the mattress effortlessly. A gasp spilled from your mouth, eyes locking with his as he slid your panties down your legs. And then he crawled between your thighs before taking his t-shirt off.

“We should be quiet,” you told him, smiling shyly as he placed his palms on your knees, pushing your thighs up to your chest.

“Let’s see how long you can do that,” he replied, letting out a tired giggle.

And he had a point about that. Last time you and Jeonghan had sex, you had been so noisy that the downstairs neighbors made some tacit remarks about a creaky bedframe. So you watched as Jeonghan grabbed a pillow, probably thinking the same as you and placed it behind the headboard.

“Can’t make any promises,” you mumbled, still looking as he pulled his shorts and boxers down, taking his hard cock in one hand and guiding it to your drenched pussy. You swallowed hard, holding your breath as the crown of his cock nuzzled against your entrance, and then he slipped inside you, so fucking slow.

You couldn’t resist it. The sight of his length disappearing in your mound was alluring, and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you was even more delicious than riding him. He pushed your thighs to the sides of your ribs by climbing on top of you, so he was now fully pressing your body with his.

Jeonghan smiled. “See? Didn’t last long,” he said, hearing your soft whines as he bottomed out inside you.

“Fuck—daddy,” you gritted, breathing hard under the weight of his body, but you loved it. “Move, please, move.”

You didn’t need to beg—he did it right away, pulling back to push right in, creating a steady pace effortlessly. He framed your face with his forearms, his face so close to yours that he only leaned slightly to get a swift kiss. You cupped his head in your hands, lifting your head so you could kiss him deeper, earning a soft moan from him.

It was truly suffocating. The warmth of his body, being so close to him. Looking into his eyes as he claimed your body like it was his. It overwhelmed you—the need to be his woman and have him like this every night, forever. You were going insane with the mere thought—waves of love and lust coursed through you uncontrollably.

The room became flooded with the muffled sounds of pleasure—the small whines you made, the short moans Jeonghan let out in between tired breaths, and the very obvious creaking of the bedframe despite the headboard having a pillow to not slam against the wall.

You loved it. Loved how you both had fallen into an addiction of silent quickies in the middle of the night, stifling moans and speaking filth in hushed tones. The sheer adrenaline of trying and failing to be quiet made you wet. You could even catch the slippery sound of your arousal as Jeonghan pushed his cock deep inside you.

“God,” you gasped when he picked up a pace, fucking you faster, still massaging that glorious spot inside your walls. 

And you let pleasure bloom inside your body with a hot, intense shiver. Long ago, it was so rare that you’d cum with penetration alone—but somehow Jeonghan always made you cum like that, effortlessly. Your mouth dropped open, almost tasting your orgasm on the tip of your tongue.

“You close?” he asked with sharp, ragged breaths. He gave you a dazed look, outlining your features with his gaze. When you nodded, he gave you another light smile. “Let go, baby.”

You stared into his eyes, watched him as his jaw twitched when he ground his teeth down—you noticed he was close too. “Cum with me?” you asked, cheeks turning hot as you heard how fucking sweet you sounded.

Oh, you were in love. You had come to this realization a while ago, but now it was becoming more and more unbearable. Your mind spun with questions—did Jeonghan know? Could he see it in your eyes? Hear it in your tone? There you were, riddled with questions while you were begging for him to cum with you, and he wasn’t wearing a condom.

“You’re cumming first, Babygirl,” he replied, his tone waning.

You could’ve sworn that he had a way to hear your thoughts, but you didn’t let that distract you—because you were instantly swept over by an intense wave of pleasure. A gasp tore from your chest, and before you could let out a scream, Jeonghan crushed his mouth against yours, drowning out your sounds of pleasure.

He continued thrusting in that same calculated pace until you became a puddle of pleasure. You were wet. Sweaty, hot, and quivering on his bedsheets. And he was kissing you softly, passionately, like he hadn’t done before.

“Felt good?” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Amazing,” you drawled sweetly.

“Good,” he mouthed, the muscles of his face tightening, like he was in pain—he was close.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Don’t pull out,” you said.

He blinked, his gaze finding you instantly.  

“Please,” you whispered, linking your wrists behind his nape, as though trying to hold him right there.

He blinked slowly and then let his forehead rest on top of yours. “Fuck,” he sighed, pushing his hips against yours with tight, deep thrusts. You closed your eyes as another euphoric rush gripped your body wholly. “God—fuck, baby,” Jeonghan drawled, letting out a raw, quiet moan as he gave you a final push, his cock twitching in your walls as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Jeonghan remained there, breathing fitfully, his body completely glued to yours as though unable to move. And then you wished you’d known what to say next. You wished you knew what to do or say after making love. So instead, you moved your face, finding his lips with your own. You kissed him slowly, trying to convey the quick rhythm of your heart, the butterflies swarming inside your chest.

He pressed his lips against the corner of yours, then he kissed your cheek. “You’re okay?” he whispered, gently pushing the tip of your nose with his before pressing another kiss against your lips.

Your heart gave another leap. “Yeah,” you mumbled shakily. “We should probably get ready to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

Jeonghan pulled back, blinking at you confusedly. “Yeah. Sure,” he replied, his gaze outlining your features. “But after I’ve taken care of you, baby.”

And when he peeled off your body, you knew you had made a mistake. You felt foolish then, because this man was clearly thrown off by the switch in your tone, confused by your evident refusal to talk about what was going on in your mind.

But he took care of you with the utmost gentleness, offering to start a shower for you, which you declined due to how late into the night it was. However, you cleaned up in the bathroom, and when you came out, he had a glass full of water ready on the bedside table, and he’d already changed the bedsheets.

“I put your clothes in the washing machine and programmed it for a quick start early in the morning,” he said thoughtfully as he unstuck the pillow behind the headboard. “They should be clean and dry by the time we both get up.”

It made you smile—the very careful manner in which he was fluffing the pillows as you approached the bed. “Thank you, babe,” you replied, feeling your heart warm up.

“Don’t thank me,” he whispered, lifting his head as you stood beside him before the bed. “Hopefully you will remember to bring in some spare clothes next time?” he insisted, smiling shyly about something, and then— “Sorry. I keep bringing it up.”

Your heart deflated. “Don’t apologize,” you replied, placing your palm on his side, feeling the muscle of his abdomen contract at your touch. “I’ll remember to bring some stuff in. I promise.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand and taking it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go to sleep.”

You nodded, climbing back on the bed and snuggling him close. Jeonghan wrapped your waist with one arm, the little crook beneath your earlobe.

Your heart fluttered. “Do we already have a cake?” you asked suddenly.

Jeonghan pulled back. “What?” he mumbled.

You turned slightly. “For Sohee’s party. Did you order a cake?”

His brow creased. “Yes. Why?” he asked curiously.

You turned again, face to your pillow. “It’s nothing. I can bake really good chocolate cakes,” you gave him a light shrug. “Thought I could help with something.”

Jeonghan smiled; you felt the change in his breath on your neck, making you shiver. “I’ll remember that,” he said, pressing his lips to the first spot of skin he could find. “For her fourth birthday.”

The knot in your tummy twisted harder. “Yeah…” you trailed off, deciding to snuggle closer to him, silently telling him to hold you tighter to his body.

“Sleep well, pretty,” he whispered, unaware of the shift happening in you.

Your head was about to blow up. You were sure. And every time you blew air out of your lungs, your abdomen screamed in pain and exhaustion.

“Perhaps I’m not made for this,” you mumbled to yourself quietly, wrapping the bead around your fingers to secure a tight knot, and then proceeded to put tape on one side of it, sticking it to the wall.

You had successfully decorated the side of the dining room that had the most cleared space for it. There perched a big and colorful daisy of white and light blue petals, with a Happy B-day Sohee sign sitting in the centre in baby pink colors, made by your hand. You had pulled out your party decorating skills, which you had put away since entering college, but they came in handy the moment you realized Jeonghan wasn’t planning on decorating.

“Okay,” you sighed tiredly, looking at the wall. Now that you had one task done, you needed to tend to the other two tasks you had set for yourself.

Task number one was decorating, done. Task number two was tidying up the place for the guests. And task number three was psyching yourself up for meeting your boyfriend’s ex, and the mother of his daughter.

Your stomach did that thing again—it felt like some deep part of you protested against what you had ahead for you, and it wanted to draw your attention to it by stabbing you right in the gut.

But you went ahead and tidied the place up—putting toys where they belonged, folding blankets and taking them to the bedrooms, cleaning the kitchen counters, and setting the table just nicely.

Two hours had passed since you’d arrived at Jeonghan’s place, and all of your tasks were done. You realized you could sneak fifteen minutes of mirror talk and touching up your makeup before Jeonghan and Sohee arrived back home.

When you came out of the bathroom, you felt like something was shaking inside your veins, leaving a trail of prickled nerves in its wake. But you took a deep breath—catching the sweet smell of vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon from the birthday cake set in the centre of the round dining table. You outlined the entire space with your gaze, mentally checking every single item you told Jeonghan you were in charge of getting for the party.

Balloons. Fruit tray. Candy tray. Banana milk. Peach drinks (Sohee’s favorite), candles and goodie bags, which were dinosaur themed.

The smart lock of the main door clicked and beeped, making your stomach contract and your nerves fire up in different directions inside your limbs. Jeonghan was crossing the door carrying a backpack on one shoulder, gift bags hanging on the same arm he was carrying Sohee with.

“Hello, you two,” you chirped, anxiety instantly swept when you saw Sohee’s adorable face. “What took you so long?”

“Sohee’s teachers,” Jeonghan exhaled tiredly, closing the door behind him and watching you approach him and Sohee. “They had a lot to say to me. One of them even got emotional.”

“And what did they have to say?” you asked, eyes set on the little girl perched on her father’s arm.

“Oh, just how much they appreciate Sohee,” he replied, bumping his daughter on his arm and turning to her. “They said you were the best girl, right? The smartest, kindest and friendliest. She’s been pretty talkative at school,” he added at the end, giving you a meaningful glance.

You made a shocked expression. “Is that true?” you asked, and then giggled at the sound of your own voice.

Sohee was listening to the conversation while she chewed on the tip of her index finger. But she nodded intently.

“They gave her a couple of presents,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to the gift bags on his arm. “Some of them were from her friends, two of them were from her teachers.”

You took one glance at the gift bags. “Oh, shoot,” you muttered.

“What?” Jeonghan said, brow furrowing.

“I forgot the present I got for her back in my apartment,” you said dispiritedly. But you turned to Sohee, extending your hands at her. “Hi, sweetheart!”

Sohee inclined her little body forward, just as you grabbed her by the torso and wrapped her around your hip. The movement was so natural that it went almost unnoticed, but it was Jeonghan’s gaze, the way he blinked, and his eyes lit up as he looked at his daughter, pointing at the wall behind you.

“That’s okay, we can go get it tomorrow morning,” Jeonghan mumbled faintly, still looking at his daughter perched now on your hip.

“Mn,” Sohee hummed softly, kicking her legs up in the air and pointing at the wall slightly harder.

“Oh, right,” you turned on your feet, taking the baby girl to the living room area so she could see the wall decorations. “We made this for you, kiddo,” you chirped, looking at her pretty face.

She pointed again.

“D’you like it?” you whispered, heart warming up at the sight of her sweet brown eyes taking in the big daisy on the wall.

She nodded aloofly. And then kicked her legs, pointing them to the floor.

“Alrighty,” you mumbled, carefully setting her on the floor. You watched her run joyfully to her bedroom, perhaps to get something, a toy for her to show you.

But then you turned, catching Jeonghan still staring at you, hands deep in his pockets, head tilted to one side. But it was the tenderness in his eyes that made your heart flip in that same rhythm as before—the one you had been so keen on avoiding, but was becoming unbearable.

“Do you like it?” you parroted, showing him the wall with your hands. You exhaled, trying to calm your nerves down—but it was futile.

“I love it,” he replied with a warm tone coating his words. Then he approached you with a slow step, slipping a hand on your waist to pull you closer to his frame. He leaned his head forward, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

A vehement shudder crossed your entire body, and you let your eyelids fall closed as he planted another kiss on your forehead, this time longer. The words he said were ones you knew your heart was aching to hear—but the noise inside your head didn’t let you form a response.

The doorbell rang loudly, making you cringe visibly and turn to the door. “I’ll get it,” you said, slipping out of his embrace.

“No, I’ll get it,” Jeonghan said kindly.

“Then I’ll go get the birthday girl,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t feel too stiff on your face—but your heart was going a thousand miles per second.

Jeonghan caught something in your face, his eyes outlining your features before you turned around and hurried down the hall and to the toddler’s bedroom.

Sohee was playing with the new dinosaurs that her father had gotten for her birthday. She already got them all lined up on the colorful bookshelf in one corner of the room. Your stomach twisted with cuteness overload when you heard the tiny noises she was making for a triceratops as she made it stomp across the shelf.

“Hey kiddo,” you cooed, approaching her and crouching behind her. “Your friends are here. Do you want to come with me and greet them?”

She turned around and directed a steady look at your face. “Yeap,” she nodded happily, taking another dinosaur in her fist and running out of the room, squealing like she knew she was the star of the day.

You rose, and with a big sigh, you followed the toddler down to the dining room. You greeted the guests, parents of Sohee’s friends from daycare. And before you knew it, the party had already started, and it was going smoothly.

You made light conversation as you got juice boxes for all the kids, who weren’t many, but they felt like a massive multitude when they were swarming around you trying to get juice boxes and goodie bags.

“Alright, alright!” you laughed, holding up both hands. “Everyone will get one, I promise!” you said while handing a goodie bag to each kid.

You felt a hand on the small of your back. “That includes me?” Jeonghan asked close to your ear before planting a kiss on your cheek.

You leaned into the kiss. “If you behave, I’ll consider it,” you replied warmly.

“Mmn,” he hummed, pressing another loving kiss. “You know you’re all I want.” 

Your heart stammered, making you blink and find his eyes. Your tongue twisted, and you wished you had been quick enough to quip back something as enticing—but it was already too late. The doorbell rang again, but this time, neither you nor Jeonghan had to go get it.

It was Sohee’s mother, Soomin. She had only rung the doorbell to announce her arrival, since she knew the combination to the smart lock—a thing you had thought only you and Jeonghan knew, but you were proven wrong.

The person who crossed the door was entirely not what you had imagined. In all the scenarios where you had pictured yourself meeting Jeonghan’s ex and the mother of his child, you’d never imagined that it would be like this.

Soomin was beautiful. She was tall and had a bright smile as she crossed the door. “Where’s my girl?” she shouted from across the apartment, and your poor heart fell to your stomach when you saw Jeonghan smile widely.

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbled beside you. He ran quickly to his daughter, snatching her from the floor and making her squeal with the abrupt movement. Sohee laughed, drawing the attention of the room as Jeonghan carried her to see her mother. “Sohee baby, mom’s here!”

“Hi, peanut,” Soomin said in a high-pitched tone. “Happy birthday, sweetheart! Mommy is here,” she said, and then she leaned towards Sohee, who was sitting in Jeonghan’s arms.

But Sohee recoiled, turning her back to her mother. It was only natural, you thought, since the child barely recognized the face in front of her. But the scene before you hurt to watch either way. Jeonghan bounced the toddler in his arms, trying to drag her attention back to Soomin, who was getting something out of her leather handbag.

“Look what mommy got for you!” Soomin said, still speaking in that faux sweet tone. “Look!”

Sohee turned to see her mother getting a red gift bag, small enough that it fit inside the slick black leather bag. Sohee stared at it for a hard second before extending her hand and grabbing it, and then she proceeded to kick her legs to the floor.

“Alright,” Jeonghan said, putting the toddler back on the floor.

Sohee ran freely, and back to her little friends. Your gaze followed back to Jeonghan, who greeted Soomin with a very dry hey, but then approached to give her a quick hug, devoid of all kinds of affection. It was almost like neither of them knew how to treat each other anymore.

“Wow, you really went out this time,” Soomin said, looking at the decorations, the birthday cake carefully set in the centre of the table, birthday plates piled up, and trays of fruit and candy already about to empty.

“Oh, it was all her,” Jeonghan said, extending an arm towards you almost ceremoniously.

Your heart warmed up at the gesture, but your nerves had eaten you up already. You approached them with a stiff step until Jeonghan wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you up to his side, showing you off proudly.

“So I can put a face to the name, finally,” Soomin said, showing you a dashing smile. She extended a hand towards you. “I’m Soomin, Sohee’s mother.”

You took her hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” you said, smiling at her politely.

At that exact second, one of the little kids had pulled one of the candy trays from the table and thrown the candy all over the floor. “Oh—” you uttered, motioning to go clean the candy from the floor.

“I’ll get it,” Jeonghan said, giving you a quick but reassuring look. And then he said to you, “I’ll be back, baby.”

And you knew he didn’t want to leave you alone with his ex, but he also didn’t want you to go and clean up the floor. So you stood there, anxiously watching as Jeonghan picked the candies and put them back on the tray one by one.

“Can I help with anything?” Soomin asked, more for decency than true intentions of helping.

“Nope,” you said awkwardly. “Everything’s set up.”

Soomin leaned her head to one side slightly before throwing one glance to the kids playing with Sohee. “You’ve done a lot already.”

“It’s not that big of a party,” you said, shrugging.

She smiled faintly, and you knew what she was looking at. “It’s big enough,” she said faintly.

You followed her gaze, finding Sohee playing with one of her little friends. They were both sharing a soundboard that someone at the party had gifted her.

“She’s shy, isn’t she?” Soomin said, her tone was devoid of snark, but then she added, “Kind of like her father.”

Although the comment wasn’t ill-natured, it hurt your heart to hear it. “She just takes a minute,” you replied, wishing you hadn’t sounded so harsh towards Soomin. But your heart was beating frantically, making you afraid that it was going to jump out of your chest.

And then you watched as Soomin’s gaze went around the room again, stopping on the wall behind you. Her dark brown eyes went over the balloons forming a giant daisy, and the big birthday sign made by you.

“You’re really good with her,” Soomin said after a moment. Her eyes found you. “Jeonghan has told me about you.”

Your tummy clenched. “I care about her.”

“I can tell,” she replied, and then you caught an edge in her tone. And then added, softer, “Not everyone would step into something like this.”

You frowned. “Like what?”

Soomin raised her eyebrows, gesturing around the apartment, the toddlers. “Well, a life that’s already in progress, you know what I mean?”

You told yourself that the words were neutral. Nothing was targeted towards you. But it still felt like it was.

You forced a smile. “I didn’t see it that way.”

Soomin’s expression didn’t change; it was as though she were having a great time talking with you. “That’s probably why you’ve made it work. It was really brave of you to have stepped in. To do what I couldn’t.”

Your stomach clenched again, and your mouth twitched like you were about to tell her something you’d regret.

“Baby! Where are the candles?” Jeonghan called from the kitchen.

You exhaled, glad. “Excuse me,” you said, and as you walked away, you felt Soomin’s gaze on you, following you.

Your ears were ringing, anger still boiling inside you. Jeonghan was closing a drawer, his expression hardening at once as he took one look at you. “Everything okay there, beautiful?” he asked, glancing towards the living room.

You could still feel Soomin’s eyes on you. You nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, trying to mask your anger. You would talk about it with him later.

His eyes outlined your expression. “Sure?” 

“Sure,” you said, opening the top cabinet and then handing him the pack with green and pink candles in it.

Jeonghan grabbed the candles, sighing. “Looks like the party is going well,” he said, giving you a hopeful smile and glimmering eyes.

Despite the rage still tightening your stomach, you smiled at him. “Sohee’s happy,” you said, casting a look at Sohee. “I’ll go get her,” you told him, turning around and walking towards Sohee.

The toddler was happily focused on her toys and her little friends. Her eyes were wide and glimmering in excitement, and candy wrappers were spread all across the floor. Something caught your eye—a red, unopened gift bag, forgotten in one corner of the living room.

“Princess, come here,” you called softly, crouching behind her to see her at eye level. “Do you want cake?”

The question caught her attention immediately, making her turn around and face you. You stretched your hands to her, and she silently responded by stretching her little arms to you. You grabbed her, standing up to secure her at your hip, and she instantly wrapped her legs around you.

“Oh, I got her. Let me.”

Soomin was already behind you, showing you her palms so you could transfer Sohee to her grip. A pang of jealousy sank deep inside your belly, making you want to hold Sohee closer to your body, almost like a protective defence mechanism.

You conceded, though begrudgingly. “Of course,” you replied, but there was no way you could hide the disappointment in your tone.

With a fretful pain lacing your heart, you handed Sohee over to her mother. The toddler kicked her legs anxiously and turned to look at you as though trying to understand she wasn’t in your arms anymore. And with little control over yourself, you glanced in Jeonghan’s direction, almost as knowing he’d be looking. He had watched the whole exchange from afar, and he immediately recognized the dispirited look on your face, because all he did was offer you a solemn smile.

It made your blood boil. What else could he do? A tiny voice called inside your head. You’re not Sohee’s mother. The voice said with painful regret.

It was the truth. No matter how bad it hurt, you weren’t Sohee’s mother. And you were getting attached to her—attached to this life without having a true anchor to it.

And the thought ruined the rest of the night for you.

So you watched as Soomin sat on the table with Sohee sitting on her lap, the toddler forgot about the anxiety of being with a stranger as soon as Jeonghan stepped beside the chair and lit up the candles on the cake.

You debated whether to step closer or just watch from afar. The candles you had picked for Sohee’s cake were green and pink, and a single sparkling candle that, once Jeonghan got to light it up, stole the attention of the toddler. Her big, brown eyes glimmered in the dark against the sparkles that flew up to the ceiling, and instead of gasping or crying out as the other kids did, Sohee just stared at it, fascination spread across her face, parting her little lips.

Your stomach twisted in adoration. And you couldn’t resist it. You pulled out your phone and hit the record button, determined to save this little moment forever—even if in real life it only lasted about fifty seconds.

Sohee was happy. She ate cake happily, shared her toys with her friends and seemed to be getting better at talking with others. And that was the only shining light in your night.

By the time that all the guests had left, the apartment didn’t look as wrecked as you half expected it to be after hosting about fifteen people in it. The paper plates were stacked in a crooked tower, forks and spoons piled next to it on the kitchen counter, breadcrumbs spread all over the surface. There were plastic cups everywhere, toys, gift bags and confetti all over the living room floor.

The front door opened, and Jeonghan slipped inside the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. The minute he stepped in, you decided to busy yourself by looking for a large trash bag that you had left somewhere in the kitchen.

“Well, that’s everyone,” Jeonghan said, pleased that all of the guests had gone home. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

You started shoving trash into the bag as quickly as you could without making too much noise, and you were half glad that there was so much to do before you went home because you needed to think.

But Jeonghan had already noticed you were in a mood, and you could feel him hovering in the kitchen, trying to get a read on you. “The party went really well. Everyone had a lot of fun,” he said, his tone gentle.

You were grabbing a bunch of plastic cups in one hand, throwing them inside the bag without caring that they were still half full. “Yeah. Sure,” you huffed, continuing to clean the dining table.

The silence that followed was truly unsettling, making you weigh on the tone you had used and the manner in which you were moving. You were stepping out of control, and you didn’t care where you were taking this conversation.

By the time you found the courage to raise your gaze, you found Jeonghan frowning at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Air left your lungs like you were suddenly punched in the chest. “Did you have fun today?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. “Because I didn’t.”

Jeonghan’s frown didn’t ease; he was confused. But his gaze softened, showing you worry. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone dropping when he added, “Did something happen?”

You left the bag aside on the floor, dropping your arms at your sides in a defeated manner. “I mean, I spent the entire evening running around, trying to make sure everything worked,” you said, gesturing around you. “I made the food, drinks, decorations, and cleanup. I didn’t have the chance to sit down once.”

Jeonghan blinked. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

You sighed. “That’s easy to say now.”

He shifted his weight, motioning to approach you. “That’s not what I meant—”

“I know,” you cut him off, putting a hand between him and you. “I know you meant it nicely.”

You could feel the waves of emotion coming closer, coming to get you. And your body acted off of instinct, picking up one stray napkin on the table and folding it in half, almost as though preparing yourself to have something in your hand for when you started crying.

With a tearless sob, you added. “It would’ve been nice if someone had noticed while it was happening.”

Jeonghan’s frown disappeared. “I noticed.”

“Did you?” you asked, still holding your emotions back.

“Of course I did,” he said, his tone dropping to an even gentler one.

But you could still feel the tears prickling in your eyes, everything you held back making you taste them in your tongue. “Then why was I still doing everything while everyone else was enjoying the party?”

Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, looking at you as though finding you endearing that you were about to cry for something like this, but still approached you with caution. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” he said, and then he hesitated, almost as though wanting to take back his words, so he added instead, “I was busy with things as well, I thought we were both busy, baby.”

You deadpanned to him. “You really didn’t think I wanted to enjoy the party too?”

He opened his mouth, his eyes widening as his mind started to reel, you knew it.

But you kept going. “I wanted to sit down with her when she opened her presents. Or be next to her when she blew out the candles. Honestly, Jeonghan, I felt like a guest at a party I helped throw. I couldn’t even hold Sohee for two minutes!”

His face fell in utter worry, his shoulders going slack. “Is this all because Soomin wanted to hold her?” he asked, his tone hollow, like he now couldn’t believe you were throwing a tantrum over this.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “No—! Yes! But it’s not only that!” you stammered.

Jeonghan stepped back, but just slightly, as though he wanted to take a good look at your face—disbelief still contorting his face. “Soomin was just trying to have a moment with her as well,” he shook his head. “I don’t see that as a bad thing. Maybe you’re reading too much into it.”

“Am I?” you asked, raising your tone.

And Jeonghan sighed. “Baby… she’s Sohee’s mother.”

It wasn’t necessarily cruel. His tone was devoid of venom, but it still hurt—like a bitter truth being forced down your bloodstream, burning and leaving an ache in its wake.

Your entire body shook before a powerful shudder. “Right,” you said slowly.

Jeonghan immediately realized the weight of his words, the pain translating in your features. “Wait—” he said, his jaw set tight as his eyes widened in worry. “Baby, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—”

You shook your head. “No, I get it,” you said, but your voice had lost all power, and the wall you had put between reason and emotions crumbled. Tears burst in your eyes, and a sob broke through your chest.

“You’re right. I’m not her mom,” you continued, giving him a brittle smile. “I never forgot that. Not for a second,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “You know, I keep reminding myself of that. Of where I stand.”

Jeonghan took another step towards you, this time more decisive. “Baby, you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he said, trying to be nice still, trying to figure out how to calm you down.

You looked down to wipe your tears. Confetti was spread all over the floor, and your stomach twisted at the thought of how this scene might appear from the outside. The apartment was a mess—gift bags, wrapping paper, candy, and new toys scattered across the living room. A half-eaten cake sat on the table, and balloons were stuck to the walls. The lights in the kitchen and living room remained on. You and Jeonghan were arguing, trying to keep your voices down so as not to disturb the little girl’s sleep.

You finally found the strength to look at him again. And when Jeonghan saw your tired face, fear replaced the worry in his eyes. He saw the determination in your eyes—he knew you well. “I think I’m going to go.”

Jeonghan sighed, motioning a step closer. “It’s late. Stay,” he said, his tone still wrapped in a careful gentleness.

You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jeonghan,” you said, your tone fading into a mere whisper. “I’m going home.”

He took a pause, studying you with his gaze roaming all over the features of your face, finding something in your eyes that made you wonder what you would look like. Because he seemed to lose all composure. “Baby, come on,” he said, his eyebrows drawn in. “We just had a fight. That doesn’t mean you need to leave.”

You sighed tiredly. “It wasn’t just a fight, Jeonghan,” you said calmly. All need to fight was gone now. You had lost. You shook your head. “I’m done.”

You turned around, heading towards the door. But you caught a glimpse of Jeonghan’s expression, the shock and worry making his eyes wide and glistening. “Baby.”

You grabbed your sweater and your handbag. The only two non-disposable belongings you had in his house.

“Baby,” he insisted again, more firmly now. “You’re not seriously leaving because of something I said.”

You paused, but you didn’t let the moment catch you in your determination. “It’s not just something you said. It’s a fact.”

Jeonghan stiffened, but words got stuck in his mouth, making his throat bob visibly.

You wrapped your fingers around the doorknob. And then all self-control slipped out of your hands. “Today I learned two things. One is that I was changing my whole life to fit into yours,” you told him, pulse quickening when you realized what you were doing, what you were breaking. “And the other thing is that I was the only one doing that.”

Jeonghan took a weak step towards you, his eyes showing the realization of what was about to happen. “We can still figure things out,” he whispered, eyes wide and glossy.

And something reminded you of how easy Soomin walked back into Jeonghan and Sohee’s life, how fleeting her presence was compared to the mess you had in your hands now. Your heart was breaking, and you couldn’t fit in your head how easy it was for her to walk out and walk back in. You envied that for a split second, because now you had a broken heart to fix.

Jeonghan still thought the problem was logical. And not something you had been wanting him to truly see.

You took in a deep breath. “Goodbye, Jeonghan,” you whispered, slipping out through the door and shutting it quietly behind you.

Coming back home to your apartment felt hauntingly out of the ordinary. It was as though you were stepping into a scene that had been put on pause. There was a forgotten glass of juice half empty on the kitchen counter, and you couldn’t remember leaving it there. The ironing board was standing in the middle of the living room, iron unplugged and in the holder—two things you had left there while in a hurry to get to your work in time. Plants all over the apartment were starting to wither, neglected.

A secondary instinct kicked in, telling you that at this hour you’d be helping Jeonghan tidy the place up while Sohee slept. You’d be stacking toys back into their place, folding blankets while Jeonghan did the dishes.

You closed your eyes slowly, finally hurting when you realized that you had walked out on all of it.

And your apartment didn’t feel like home.

You left your things on the counter and decided to plop down on the couch, face down against the cushions. Your pulse hadn’t slowed down since the moment you’d said goodbye to Jeonghan—and when you collapsed on the couch, you realized that you were crying. And you weren’t crying angry tears like when you were having a fight with Jeonghan, no.

You sobbed uncontrollably, tears kept coming and blurring your vision. And there was nothing in your mind except the memory of Jeonghan’s face when you walked out on him. You did the right thing, you told yourself, but your heart felt empty.

It had been the right thing. That much was true.

You loved Jeonghan. You loved Sohee.

Somewhere in the kitchen, you heard your phone buzzing, vibrating furiously inside your handbag. You ignored it. And you ignored it ten times all through the night, until it eventually ceased ringing.

Quiet settled around the empty apartment. An apartment that was yours, with all the things you built on your own. And the worst part is that it didn’t feel like home anymore. You kept wanting to reach for your car keys and leave somewhere.

Did you overreact? You wondered. I probably did blow everything out of proportion. You thought, remembering Soomin’s satisfied face when she told you that you were brave for stepping into her shoes.

Your chest tightened.

But you pushed it down.

The first twenty hours were hell.

That’s how Jeonghan felt. Like a long, gruelling torture that only pushed him to reflect.

The balloons on the wall had started to deflate, but he didn’t want to take them down. The rest of the things that you had prepared for the party had already been cleaned up, one thing that Jeonghan had done the morning after you left. It helped him think instead of bombarding your voicemail with messages pleading with you to call him back.

I could just go to her apartment, he thought. But he imagined the scene—Sohee on his arms as he begged you to come back. And he instantly pushed the idea away.

The apartment was awfully quiet. Until his phone started to vibrate on the dining table, making his stomach drop, and his hand reached for it instantly, thinking it was you, finally calling him back.

Soomin.

Jeonghan sighed, his heart deflating.

But then, a knock came to the front door. And for a moment, he thought he imagined it.

Then it came again. You knocked two quick times, deciding to step back from it and wait, clasping the gift bag with your hands. Standing there, your gaze fell out of focus, and inevitably started comparing the times you had stood there, how quickly Jeonghan would get to the door and welcome you in with open arms.

When Jeonghan finally opened the door, it was the first time you had seen him truly torn. It was normal for you to see him untidy after a long day at work, hair messy, unmade tie, untucked shirt, whatever. But no, this time was different. His face was darkened by the dark circles under his eyes, but it was the deep, conflicted sparkle in them that disheartened you completely.

“Hi,” you croaked, and cleared your throat nervously.

Jeonghan let out a quick sigh, running a palm down his mouth and chin before stepping aside, letting you in.

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say, but silence was the last thing you had anticipated. But you stepped into the apartment anyway, immediately spotting the quietness, which could only indicate one thing.

“Where is she?” you muttered, turning around to see Jeonghan shutting the door behind him quietly.

“Asleep,” he told you quietly, leaning back against the door with his hands tucked behind his back. You noticed the tired look he gave you, but that wasn’t the only thing that consumed your attention wholly—he was wary. “I just put her to bed.”

Your heart squeezed one more time, and you gave him a reproachful look. “Oh, okay,” you sighed, looking at the green gift bag in your hands. “Then I’ll leave this with you. She’ll like it, I’m sure. It’s a—it’s an axolotl plushie,” you said, stammering over your words with the need to hurry and get this over with. You wanted to run back to your car and cry.

Jeonghan nodded, licking his lips in a way that told you he had a lot to say, but decided to remain quiet. See how things would unfold first.

But this wasn’t going according to your plans. Your eyes began to brim with tears, which you blinked away quite successfully. “I wanted to see her one last time. Say goodbye properly,” you told him, tone lowering as your throat closed up.

He leaned the back of his head against the door, and as he blinked slowly, you saw his walls crumble down. “I know,” he said, his tone lowered too. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly.

You saw him blink up, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. “Is that why you put her to bed earlier than usual?” you asked keenly. “So I wouldn’t get to see her?”

Jeonghan nodded slowly, moving his arms and crossing them on his chest. “I didn’t want her to see this. I’m sorry,” he shrugged with a look of pity on his face. “But I think we should talk first.”

You felt your brow furrowing. “I thought we already talked, Jeonghan. Last night,” you said, feeling lost.

“Yeah, but last night you walked out on me,” he said, tilting his head to one side as his gaze changed, quickly being filled with disappointment and resentment. He pushed himself away from the door, approaching you with the same wariness.

“There was nothing left to say,” you muttered, trying to keep down the tight knot sitting in your throat.

“Really?” he gasped, stopping dead in his tracks just one step in front of you. His face had fallen in something that went far beyond resentment now, like uncontrolled exasperation and anger. “We could’ve solved things last night before you ended everything!”

Shame filled your bloodstream, coursing through your body and leaving your skin feeling hot and prickling with anger. You carefully set down the gift bag on the table, deciding to leave. “I won’t let anyone treat me like I’m second-best, Jeonghan. That’s why I walked out.”

It was as though you had slapped him in the face. He stepped back, blinking in a way that told you that your words had hurt him. But before you could have a confirmation on this, Jeonghan took another step, but now in your direction. “I didn’t treat you like second-best,” he replied, his face crumpling with hurt, and most shocking—you saw fear in his eyes.

“No? I was trying to make everything perfect for Sohee. And by the end of it, what did I get? Your ex walking all over me like I’m her stand-in!” you blurted, words coming out raw and shaky. But you were glad that, despite the overwhelming need to cry, you could still speak what troubled your heart.

Jeonghan looked at you like he was finally seeing the truth. Almost as though he had willingly blindfolded himself throughout the party last night, but now, he finally saw something he didn’t want to.

So, with heat flooding your chest, you continued, “You truly didn’t notice, Jeonghan? The tacit remarks she’d make? Or when I wanted to hold Sohee and she would casually step in? Or what about the moment she told me I was brave for doing what she couldn’t?” you said. Your throat tightened, anger burning as tears finally spilled. You wiped them angrily, refusing to look away.

“She said that?” he said with an empty look in his eyes as his shoulders sagged a little. “I didn’t hear her. I actually thought she was being nice. For once.”

“Maybe you didn’t want to see it because she was being nice to you,” you accused, crossing your arms to hold yourself steady. Or to protect yourself. “That’s myproblem. She doesn’t have to fight for a space!”

“That’s not fair. You don’t have to fight for a space—”

“No, but I do,” you interrupted, blood heating up after remembering how it felt. “And what’s not fair was pretending she was being nice. She knew exactly what she was doing, and whether you meant it or not, you let her.”

“I should’ve known she would do things when I wasn’t looking,” Jeonghan replied, his tone firm. But then his gaze softened, right as he too crossed his arms, making you think that he was guarding himself up as well.

You let out a resigned sigh. “But this isn’t truly about your ex, Jeonghan,” you finally said, gulping hard. “This is about us failing to do things right.”

And when he lifted his gaze back to you, you noticed a glint in his eyes, like sorrow taking over him. He wasn’t crying, but your heart slowed down at seeing that torn-up look on him. Your words had struck a nerve. “This isn’t on me—I tried making things right!” he said, not lifting his tone, his words devoid of heat.

“You were rushing into things! Asking me to move in? Putting me as the emergency contact on Sohee’s file without telling me?” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but instead you sounded like you were on the brink of tears again.

He still looked hurt, but now, he was beginning to detach himself from you—and you could tell. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe you, running a hand down his mouth, frustratedly. “I thought that you moving in with us would make us stronger. But now I know we weren’t on the same page with that.”

You understood why he delivered his words dryly, but it still made your aching heart deflate even more. Tears burst from your eyes again, and you hated that you were now out of control. “I just wanted to know that you weren’t just looking for someone to share the burden with.”

He let out a huff, a cold smile painting his face. “I don’t need someone to share the burden with; I have been doing fine on my own since Soomin left.”

You rolled your eyes—he was missing the point. “I wanted to be certain that you wanted me.”

That left him cold. His arms were still crossed on his chest, but you saw the smallest of budges, as though the very air had left his lungs, cracking that wall he was putting between you. “Is that it? Is that why you said no?” he asked, his tone softer. He motioned to approach you, but the look on your face stopped him.

You were fully crying now. No sobbing, no hiccupping, no runny nose. Just unstoppable tears streaking down your cheeks. Your lip trembled, just as you were looking for the words to tell him what you needed to hear from him.

His mind reeled—you could tell from the way his gaze shifted quickly, dropping from your face to the ground and then back to you. His brow twitched. “I thought you knew.”

You nodded. “I still needed to hear it, Jeonghan.”

His gaze fell to the space between you, as though trying to untangle this mess in his mind.

But it didn’t matter now. Nothing he could say now would ease the pain in your chest. You were done now. You wanted to go home.

You didn’t say goodbye this time. You didn’t want to drag it any further.

You walked past him, rushing to the door before he could stop you—or to be quick and have the confirmation that he wouldn’t try to stop you. And when you were safe in the elevator, your heart broke anew when you blinked and saw the image of Jeonghan standing in the dining room, a grief-stricken look on his face.

Oh, this would take you months to heal.

Your friends were right. Getting into a relationship with someone like Jeonghan would only bring you pain. Nothing else.

The walk from the elevator to where you had parked your car was excruciatingly long. Your chest was constricting more and more as you fished your key out of the pocket of your jeans, unlocking the car door from afar.

“Wait!”

Jeonghan’s raw voice crossed the parking lot like lightning shooting through the night sky. You stopped, not because you wanted to follow the request, but because of the sheer shock of knowing that he’d chased you down to the parking lot.

Jeonghan was catching up, running to where you stood, frozen to the ground. “Wait,” he pleaded, breathing hard as he reached you. “Don’t go… please.”

Had he run down the emergency stairs just to catch you before you got in your car? Had he left Sohee alone just to get to you? You stared at him, beyond disbelief.

He composed himself with one deep breath, raising his palms at you warily. “I know I don’t deserve this, but please hear me out.”

When you didn’t respond, a wild look of fear shot across his face, making his eyes widen slightly. “I didn’t ask you to move in with us because I wanted someone to share the burden of being a parent,” he said, his words honest despite the tremble in his tone. “I said those things because Sohee is my priority. I was dumb, and that was the first thing that popped into my mind. I wasn’t thinking of how I sounded.”

He gulped air, hard. “I asked you to move in with us because I feel empty when you’re not around,” he said, more fiercely, his eyes glimmering as he took another step towards you. “I asked you to move in with me because of the most selfish reason—because I don’t want to be without you.”

And then the look in his eyes turned to complete despair when you remained motionless. His confession had done nothing to you, or so he appeared to believe. But your heart was beating wildly, thumping in your eardrums. You stood there, torn between holding your ground and giving in to him.

His mouth parted, and he took half a pace to where you stood. But he stopped, as though all strength and courage had dissipated the moment your eyes began to brim with tears again. “Please,” he whispered, gulping hard once again. And you knew what he was feeling—his heart thrumming in his throat. “Don’t do this.”

He wasn’t scared of losing a perfect candidate for his ex’s stand-in. No—and you were a fool to have believed that. You had seen the terrible person his ex was and still decided to run with that idea.

What you had failed to remember was that Jeonghan had gone through difficult breakups before. His ex left him with a baby in his arms. And even if his relationship with Soomin had been loveless from the start, it was still hard, and it still hurt.

God knows how long it had been since Jeonghan felt love.

And the truth is, you trusted that not even he remembers it as well.

Jeonghan was exceptionally bad at sharing his feelings aloud. That is one thing you’ve learned in all eight months you’ve been with him. But then you saw his posture change, the strength in him waning. “I won’t let things go this way again,” he told you, his eyes pleading.

A brutal shudder coursed through you. You loved this man. There was no way you could just turn around and walk away.

Your lip trembled. “You promise?”

It was as though life had been injected into him, hope glimmering in his eyes now. “I promise,” he replied.

With just a couple of paces, you closed the space between you and him, grabbing him by the collar of his black t-shirt and pulling him in. And he simply let you, receiving the impact of your smaller body against his by grabbing you by the waist, already knowing you were aiming for a kiss.

Your lips clashed with his in a crushing kiss; it almost hurt, but you didn’t care. Your body brimmed with energy, making your fingers curl around the fabric of his t-shirt. It was a leap of faith—but this time, you were ready. “I love you,” you said, squeezing your eyelids tightly.

A small sigh escaped him. “I love you too,” he replied, switching his hands from your waist to your face, cupping it before going back to kissing you. “Please, stay,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours tightly.

You melted in his embrace. “Okay,” you replied, nodding.

He wrapped you with his arms completely, placing one hand on your back and the other on your head, making your face nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “You scared me,” he whispered, the sound of his voice strangled.

You swallowed hard. “You scared me too,” you admitted.

He kissed the top of your head, moving to cup your face again. “I know this doesn’t solve everything,” he said, his tone brittle. That’s when you noticed his eyelashes crumpled with tears. “So I think we should talk about what comes next.”

You shifted slightly to get the tears on the corners of your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He seemed to calm down with one breath. “Soomin is still going to be part of our lives.”

You nodded. “I know.”

His eyebrows knitted slightly. “And sometimes our lives will get messy.”

“I know that, Jeonghan,” you whispered, smiling at him softly.

He caressed your cheek tenderly. “But I want you to talk to me every time something feels off,” he said.

“And will you?” you asked.

He nodded. “Every single time,” he said. “I want us to be stronger together.”

The certainty in his demeanour made you pause. “You mean that?” you asked with a tiny tone.

“Yes, I do,” he replied. “I should’ve told you this before. I don’t want to be without you.”

And now the honesty was the thing that disarmed you completely. For a second, you almost felt like your vulnerable side was about to win, but you sighed. “I was jealous of her,” you confessed.

He blinked in disbelief. “Of Soomin?”

You nodded. “She’s Sohee’s mom. I didn’t like to feel that I was competing with her.”

“You weren’t,” he said with certainty. “Things got messy yesterday. I didn’t notice she was trying to make you feel insecure.”

You shook your head lightly. “This whole thing feels ridiculous now.”

He frowned. “What does?”

“All of this,” you gestured to the space between you and him. “We nearly blew up our entire relationship because we couldn’t talk about what we actually feel.”

He let out a light laugh. “It won’t happen again,” he said, stepping back and grabbing your hand, motioning back to the building. “Let’s go back inside?”

You nodded, walking with him, feeling ten times lighter than before.

You both stepped into the elevator, still holding hands. But as soon as the doors closed, Jeonghan tugged at your hand, pulling you closer to his frame. He wrapped an arm around your waist, finding your cheek with the other hand. “Will you forgive me?” he mumbled softly, smiling at you like he was shy. “I let things go out of hand.”

Your heart softened again, making you choke up, so you just nodded. “Me too,” you whispered. “I apologize too.”

He blinked slowly. “We talked about this before, remember?” he told you. “My life is messy, and I haven’t had a relationship since Soomin. I think this is us trying to find the balance in everything.”

You smiled at him. “Please don’t tell me that finding the balance will look like this every time.”

He laughed lightly. “I told you, baby. I won’t let this happen again,” he said, full of certainty. “I mean it.”

You sighed softly, relief finally setting in. “Okay,” you whispered, closing your eyes as he leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours ever so tenderly, like he was trying to isolate every single feeling and just focus on how your lips felt against his.

The kiss deepened, lips locking together in a heated dance that had your blood dancing in your veins almost instantly. A moan bubbled in your mouth when you felt the tip of his tongue swiping on your bottom lip, touching your tongue as it rolled inside your mouth.

You placed a hand square on his chest. “Don’t think you’re off the hook,” you said, faking a stern look on your face.

The elevator reached the floor, doors parting with a soft ding. Jeonghan took your hand again, as though not wanting to let you go for one second. “I didn’t think it would be that easy,” he said with a smirk. “But please tell me what I can do to get there faster.”

You laughed. “Well, first, you could give me a neck massage.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s starting strong?” he laughed.

“And take me for dinner at that restaurant you keep telling me you wanted to take me,” you said.

“You free tomorrow?” he said while opening the door for you.

He quickly pushed your back against the wall of the hall to his bedroom, locking his lips with yours in a quick, but passionate kiss. “I could pick you up at eight,” he said, his tone raw.

“I dunno. I’ll have to check my calendar,” you replied jokingly, putting your hands on his chest, feeling him up.

Jeonghan giggled into the kiss. “You do that,” he replied.

You smiled, letting him dominate the kiss. And Jeonghan quickly took on the task, kissing you vehemently, like putting every emotion he felt for you into a silent dance of his lips with yours. His hands slipped from your face, finding your waist to clutch on as his tongue rolled inside your mouth.

You moaned, feeling his tongue against yours sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands on his torso slipped further down, finding the hem of his clothes and slipping beneath his shirt, feeling his warm skin.

The muscle of his abdomen contracted softly. “Wait—” Jeonghan said, pausing mid-kiss with a smacking sound from his lips and yours. “Bathroom.”

You were only able to moan out a sound of affirmation. The door to the bathroom was a couple of steps away from you, and when you both got there, it was as though a lightbulb had been switched on in your mind. Jeonghan was intending to take you to the most secluded place in the house—far away from the baby’s room.

Jeonghan turned the lights on with one hand, undoing the button of his jeans with the other. You acted quickly—taking one step in his direction and grabbing the black t-shirt, enjoying the look in his eyes, the hunger, the lust and devotion in them.

The clothes came off quietly—hurriedly, while his gaze remained trained on your face. Jeonghan was quiet, unusually quiet as you worked your trembling fingers to undress him. “Do you want to undress me?” you mumbled, your tone sweet, but low.

He blinked slowly and nodded, biting his bottom lip. He first grabbed the hem of your tank top, hiking it up your torso while you raised your arms to help him in the process. His gaze shifted to your chest when your bralette came into view. “I like this,” he whispered, running the pad of his thumb along the pretty lace hem of the cup of the bralette. “You know I like this one.”

You smiled softly. “If you’re suggesting that I wore the bra you liked to break up with you in case something happened, then you’re sorely mistaken,” you replied smugly.

He matched your smile. “I’m glad,” he whispered, tilting his head to meet your lips with his. He kissed you once, softly at first, his lips creating a low smacking sound when he pulled back, but not far. “I’m glad you didn’t break up with me.”

“I guess all we needed was to talk it out,” you joked in between hurried, heated pecks. Then your breath hitched, Jeonghan’s cold fingers had found the clasp of your bralette.

Jeonghan sighed in amusement. “Who would’ve thought,” he replied with an obvious tone while his hands gently eased the straps off your shoulders, and took your bra off your chest.

You needed one second to take in the situation in—you had just gone through one of the worst moments of your life, thinking that you were breaking up with the man you had fallen head over heels for. And now to be back in his apartment, hiding in the bathroom with him so that whatever went down in there wouldn’t wake the baby up.

It felt strangely exciting.

He pushed the tip of his nose against yours softly, making you angle your face as he swiped the tip of his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You parted your mouth, letting him in with a silent moan, right as his tongue found yours. He kissed you slowly, sensually, like he had been aching to do that for the longest time, but things just got in the way.

You understood then, all the intense gazes, the way he kept looking at your lips…

“From now on, I’ll tell you everything,” he told you suddenly, giving you small kisses as his hands came up to cup your face lovingly. “Every single thought that crosses my brain, you’ll know it.”

You laughed at that, the sound louder than anything else; it bounced off the walls in a denouncing manner.

“Quiet, baby,” Jeonghan uttered, but he let out a tiny giggle with you anyway. “Sohee might hear you.”

You couldn’t help it; your heart melted. “Sorry,” you whispered, but the smile didn’t wipe off your face.

He tilted his head to one side, smiling endearingly at you. “I have a feeling you like this,” he muttered, voice low like a purr.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you pushed his boxers down.

“You like it when I tell you to be quiet,” he kept going, keeping his tone down.

His gaze dropped to your hands as you grabbed his cock and started stroking him with your hand wrapped around the underside of his shaft. He had a pretty cock, soft and veiny on his thick shaft, dark pink on its head.

Seeing your hand rolling up and down his erect cock made him swallow a grunt, but as you twisted your grip around him, the sounds he made grew louder. How easy it was for him to surrender under your touch caused a deep satisfaction to bloom in your chest. But more than that, arousal had already started to pulsate between your legs. You enjoyed giving him pleasure just as much as you enjoyed receiving it.

“I like everything you do, daddy,” you mumbled, your tone wrapped in honey.

“Fuck,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. He slipped his hands on your waist, clutching your skin tightly but not enough for it to burn. “You make me crazy.” 

Your fist tightened around the crown of his cock, smearing the slick precum leaking from his slit. You loved pleasuring him, yes, but you needed him inside you—the thrumming between your legs ached to feel him. A cunning smile painted your lips, considering playing with him some more.

But Jeonghan caught that naughty smirk on your face.

In one motion, he pushed your back to the countertop of the sink. You gasped at the sudden movement, but before you could protest, he was already getting to one knee in front of you.

“If you make a single sound, I’ll stop,” he told you, his eyes darkened with need and lust.

And without waiting for your verbal response, his head dipped down, pressing his mouth to your mound. He kissed the top of your pussy first, pressing his lips to your skin tenderly, almost adoringly as his sweet brown eyes found yours, but briefly. You let out a ragged breath, parting your legs by half, sitting on the countertop. That gave him all the access to your slick folds, which he nipped and licked eagerly.

You instantly tensed, your hand finding his head and the other holding onto the basin like your life depended on it. Jeonghan knew you well; he knew how you liked being touched, how to eat your pussy out until you were a mess of tears and babbles. He knew how to make you cum. What he was doing now was just to tease you, to drive you crazy—licking the juices off your folds with pleased grunts from his part, loving the way you were always ready for him.

He grabbed your thighs, spreading you further apart so you stopped twitching and moving—and licked your pussy up and down slowly, thoroughly, only to tease you some more.

But then he finally wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it ever so lightly.

Your jaw went slack, and to not let a scream out, the hand that was previously clutching the basin flew and landed on the tap, accidentally pushing it open. The sound of water flowing freely was the perfect mask for your whiny moans, because Jeonghan had started to run his tongue flatly on top of your engorged clit, all the while his lips kept it trapped.

Thoughts ceased to exist. Nothing mattered to you except for the sweet waves of pleasure running uncontrollably through your veins, making your skin prickle and your nipples pebble. It was as though you were submerged in a pool of pleasure. Your breathing turned ragged, and your body tensed solely to let the orgasm build up—because Jeonghan wasn’t stopping, and apparently, he had forgotten about the no noise rule.

Or maybe he liked this too.

But then he lifted his face slightly, keeping his lips and tongue on the top of your pussy as his lust-filled gaze met yours. You sank your teeth on your bottom lip, using the hand that was cradling the back of his head to push his face against your cunt, begging him silently to continue.

Jeonghan eyed the basin swiftly, briefly. And that was all the command you needed. You pushed your thumb against the tap, shutting it off.

However, he continued being a tease. Or a menace. He dragged his tongue against your swollen clit, pushing the wet muscle against you, achingly slow.

Your eyebrows pinched. Please, you begged with just one look.

There was a smile that only showed in his eyes right before he resumed eating you out, sucking and licking your clit. And he only needed to do it for mere thirty seconds before your orgasm tore through your body. You forgot about pulling his hair, taking that hand against your own mouth to stop yourself from screaming.

The waves of pleasure running through you were beyond anything else you’ve felt before. He’d teased you for so long that you were very much ready for that orgasm, leaving you limp and trembling on the countertop.

Your chest was rising and falling dramatically. Embarrassed, you cast a look at Jeonghan, who was pushing himself onto his feet with a light but wicked grin on his face. He didn’t need to say anything, he knew that you’d liked that.

And you needed him now.

You grabbed his wrist, pulling so that he stood between your thighs. “Wait,” he whispered, sliding his hands on your thighs to bring you to a halt.

You instantly knew what he’d say. You shook your head. “I want you now,” you mumbled.

But he motioned a hand to the cabinet behind you, where you knew he kept one large box of condoms. He kept it there and would also restock the bedside table every night you stayed in.

You grabbed him by the hip, pulling him closer to your body. “Now,” you whined. 

Jeonghan didn’t resist, didn’t question you.

His hands returned to your thighs, wrenching them further apart and positioning himself between them. Tilting your hips up, you angled yourself for him while still sitting back on the countertop—you knew he liked the view of his bare cock entering you, the view of your pussy stretched open with his girth.

So his head dipped, keeping his gaze where your body and his were about to join. He pushed his hips closer to yours, and you took his cock, guiding it to your sopping core. His mouth parted when the crown of his cock nuzzled your entrance, and a rush of excitement flowed through you when you felt him push inside.

Feeling him raw, skin on skin, was a delicious experience. Maybe it was more in your brain than in your body—because you swore you could cum right there and then, and he wasn’t even fully inside you.

You caught a glimpse of his face changing, of the pleasure taking over him quickly as he gave the first thrust, the muscle of his jaw twitched, and he immediately crushed his mouth with yours. With a muffled moan, he started moving, languidly at first, as though testing you.

“God, baby, you feel… amazing,” he whispered, pushing his hips with gentle motions. You believed that he wanted to take it slowly, so he wouldn’t finish fast and inside you. But then you heard how fucking wet you were. You could hear his cock slipping in and out of your walls, and Jeonghan wanted to enjoy it.

You cupped the side of his neck with one hand, motioning his gaze back to yours. You stared into his eyes for a long moment while he took your body slowly. Jeonghan blinked, his hands grabbing your thighs and motioning them around his hips, making it even harder for him to pull out.

It was a game you both had. And it made you feral. You loved it.

Jeonghan pushed his body flushed against yours, thrusting slowly, but deeply. “Like that?” he asked, although he didn’t need to—the look on your face told him enough.

But you nodded either way. You remembered what he said about telling you every single thought that crossed his brain, and you decided to give him some of your thoughts in return. “I love this,” you whispered. “I love feeling you like this.”

He let out a grunt, bowing his head to kiss your shoulder. “I know,” he sighed, his breath fanning your pert nipples. “I love it too.”

You slipped your hand from his neck and then locked your arms around his shoulders. All reason flew out of your brain, and then you knew you were just babbling—but you didn’t care. “The thought of you cumming inside me makes me cum,” you mumbled, uncaring of how pathetically sweet your tone sounded.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeonghan moaned loudly, the sound barely muffled by the crook of your neck, hips stuttering against yours for half a second.

You cupped his nape with your hand as he lifted his head to face you. “Yeah?” he hummed, his gaze taking you in. “Want me to pump you full of my cum?” he asked with a playful lilt.

You nodded, incapable of giving him a verbal reply. The question was crude; it sounded beyond dirty and sinful as it came out of his lips. This surely wasn’t the first time he spoke filthy things to you, but it was the first time he asked a question like this.

And you loved it.

The pacing of his thrusts quickened, but didn’t relent on their depth, keeping his body flush against yours. You could feel the film layer of sweat covering his skin, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if you were sweating as well.

But you noticed that Jeonghan was forgetting about your game of keeping quiet. The pacing of his thrusts quickening also meant that the sounds of skin slapping against skin were harder to avoid. You thought of mentioning this to him, but it turned you on to see him lose control slowly.

“Babe,” you whispered, “be quiet.”

Jeonghan had to bite his smile back. And fuck, you loved this man. One of the things you loved about him was how sexy he could be. He pushed his hips against yours in a particularly thorough way that made you think he was trying to reach as deep into you as he could, making you whimper loudly.

“You be quiet,” he bit back, continuing to slip his cock in and out of your walls deliciously, making you see stars.

Your eyelids fell closed, but you could capture the image of him leaning his face closer to yours, feeling his breath on your lips before he kissed them. “Quiet or you won’t get to cum,” he said, his tone raspy, tired.

“Doesn’t that mean you won’t either?” you taunted, loving the way the pacing of his thrusts changed. You knew he was trying to draw out his own pleasure, make himself last longer.

Jeonghan laughed, the sound languid. “Remember how I got you to shut up that one time?” he asked, his tone still low, waning. And when the memory instantly flashed behind your closed lids, your walls tightened around him, drawing out a moan from him.

That time, he showed you a different side of himself. You were being louder than most nights, having fun by testing how far Jeonghan would go to make you submit to him.

“Yeah, you remember it,” he drawled, moving his face ever so slightly so he could join his lips with yours, all while still moving inside you painfully slow. He was edging you, and in turn, he was edging himself as well. “I thought you looked pretty with my cock inside your mouth,” he said.

You could’ve fallen over the edge in that second. A shameful whine came out of you, but you were too gone to even think of how pathetic you were sounding. You didn’t care. Having Jeonghan inside you, raw, and speaking filth to you felt so good. “I’ll be quiet, Hannie,” you told him. “Just don’t stop.”

With a grunt, Jeonghan obliged, changing the push and pull from a painfully slow one to a deliciously hard and deep one. You let out a silent moan, angling your hips to him so he could reach deeper inside you, so you could feel him completely.

Jeonghan cussed, his voice drowned out by the dull sound of skin hitting against skin. And it was then that you knew that this was his obsession—the quiet play, the bickering, the very obvious sounds of pleasure…

And you simply let him take you. The closer he grew to his orgasm, the closer you felt like giving in to the sweet pleasure dancing beneath your skin. Jeonghan parted his mouth, and you felt his hips buckling, his hands gripping your hips, his body flush and pushing against yours…

“Fuck, baby,” he said with a tired, but blissful drawl. “I’m close,” he said, his words heavy with meaning.  

And you knew what he wanted to say. “Inside,” you moaned. “Do it inside me.”

Jeonghan gave you another one of those hazy smiles, tilting his head back so you could see his face, while pleasure took over the features of his beautiful face. “Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart?” he asked, looking like he was in between happy and tired.

You nodded. “Uh-huh,” you mewled, aware that the sounds bouncing off the walls of the bathroom had become louder. But you didn’t care, and Jeonghan didn’t seem to pay attention.

He pushed inside, slamming his front to yours, switching the grip on one side of your thigh to your hair at the base of your head. “Then give it to me,” he whispered, the sound raspy and full of greed. “Cum for me.”

You could’ve gone off simply from the way he was talking to you. But you needed to get it done, fast, now. You moved your body slightly, taking your hand in between his body and yours and started rubbing your clit, teasing it with fast swirls. “Daddy,” you moaned, louder. His thrusts were deep, hard, and so fucking good. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jeonghan responded with a deep moan of his own. “Baby,” he gasped, releasing the grip he had on your hair, his hand sliding down your back as he dropped his forehead on your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, letting your orgasm barrel down your body, letting Jeonghan push his cum deep inside you with a couple of final, languid thrusts. His face was pressed tightly against the crook of your neck, making your skin prickle as he breathed hard against you.

The inner side of your thighs trembled quite dramatically as you tried holding onto him. Jeonghan let out a light, breathy giggle, right as you, too, were composing yourself, caressing his naked back with the tips of your fingers.

Then you felt his lips on the crook of your neck, your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “I’ll start a shower for you,” he croaked, lifting his head to direct a tender look at you. “I have to go check on Sohee.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you replied.

But there was a great reluctance in his following movements. Casting a look down your body, he carefully peeled his body back from yours, turning around to start the shower. You watched him as he walked back, only to plant a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before grabbing his shorts and slipping through the bathroom door.

Once you found your limbs, you climbed off the counter and stepping before the shower. After testing the temperature, you stood below the stream, closing your eyes as you let the water wash down your face.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of a thousand questions and things that you still wanted to say. But one thing was finally clear to you.

The gentle sounds coming from the door announced he was back, right as you were halfway done washing up. When he stepped into the shower, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, his chest pressing against your back as he embraced you tightly. “Hey,” you mumbled, grabbing his forearm to squeeze him.

He inhaled deeply, pressing his lips to your hair. “Hey,” he replied, his tone low and raspy.

You turned around, moving on the shower floor so that the stream bathed his bare skin. “Let me,” you said, grabbing the soap and washcloth. 

Jeonghan gave you a sheepish smile. “Oh, are you going to wash me?” he asked, his tone turning playful as you nodded at him silently, looking into his eyes. “Alright, just don’t give me those eyes, or we’ll never get this done.”

You laughed, the sound filling the bathroom. His glimmering eyes found your face, and you could see the minute his mind snapped with decision. Cupping your face in his hands, he pulled you in for a kiss full of passion and endearment. “I love you,” he mumbled, his tone so gentle that it made you think he was relieved to say it.

“I love you,” you replied, laughing softly before he pressed his lips against yours again.

“What’s that?” he asked in between pecks.

“Nothing,” you huffed as he moved to kiss your cheek. “You’re very confident now.”

He responded with a light laugh of his own. “I don’t care. I’m going to say it more,” he told you, sounding serious like a warning.

“Good,” you mumbled faintly, as he bent down to kiss your neck.

“Starting now,” he said, slipping his hands from your lower back to your rear, pressing you against his frame.

“Careful,” you replied. “You might start sounding desperate,” you teased.

You felt him smile against your skin. “Desperate, huh?” he asked, his voice low and in your ear.

“Well,” you said, tilting your head to give him more space for him to kiss, “you did just almost lose me.”

He nodded. “That put things in perspective.”

A sigh escaped your mouth when he kissed a particular sweet spot on your shoulder. “You’re going a bit overboard.”

“Mmm,” he sighed against your skin. hands squeezing your ass, but just softly, tenderly. “I love you.”

You bit back a smile. “See?”

“You’re the one who wanted me to say it.”

“I didn’t say you had to start saying it every minute,” you said, smiling despite yourself.

He pulled back, making you miss his lips on your skin instantly. “I can slow down.”

You bit your lower lip, nodding. “Please.”

But he showed you a charming half smile. “I love you.”

You laughed, trying to push his shoulder. “You’re a tease.”

A pause. The smirk wiped off his face as he exhaled softly. “And yet,” he said, his eyes glimmering with something you hadn’t seen before in him, “you’re still here.”

You watched his eyes for a moment, your pulse quickening. “That’s still under review,” you tried to joke, sounding out of breath.

If Jeonghan heard your tone, he made no comment about it; he played along. “What can I do to help my case?”

“I already told you,” you said, looking at his eyes and then his lips.

He nodded, leaning to kiss the tip of your nose. “What else?” he whispered.

You slipped your hands from his shoulders, down his torso, feeling his warm and wet skin. “Let’s go to that water park… all three of us together.”

He smiled before pressing his lips against yours. “You got it,” he replied.

Your heart shuddered. “Jeonghan?” you mumbled softly, feeling his hands all over your skin, exploring you, getting you aroused again.

“Yes?”

“Ask me to move in with you,” you said, tone falling to a mere whisper.

He pulled back, only to look into your eyes. He didn’t hesitate. “Move in with me.”

Your eyes glimmered, your whole body trembling with joy, relief, and love. You nodded. “I’ll move in with you.”

Jeonghan smiled. “Good,” he mumbled, content. “I love you.”

You groaned softly, rolling your eyes playfully. “Oh my god,” you said, loving the sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls. He leaned over, showering you with kisses again. “I love you more,” you replied shyly.

“Impossible,” he said. 

› author's note pt. 2: hi hey hello!!

so, we're are so back. and jeonghan is coming back? hannieween is writing again? hell yeah

OKAY BUT I WANT TO TAKE A MOMENT TO ADDRESS SOMETHING HERE. apparently, tumblr has moved some things so that if someone comments, likes or reblogs a post that has been previously reblogged by someone else, i won't get to see those notifs. so for example, if you're not reblogging this from my page directly, i won't get to see it 😭 so if you guys comment, like, reblog, etc, i appreciate you all so much, i might not get to see it, but i appreciate it anyway!

anyway,

toodles!

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[hanniehaeo]

my dirty little secret

synopsis... dating your brother's (sunghoon) bestfriend jake...

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ pairing... brothers bsf!jake x reader

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ genre... fluff, romance, comedy, brother's best friend trope...

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ trigger/content warning... suggestive content, swearing, mention of a knife, as always let me know if i missed anything!

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging!

a/n... it's been a long time... this isn't my best work but i just wanted to write something really quick! enjoy!

hanniehaeo navi 𝜗𝜚 taglist

© intellectual property belongs to hanniehaeo 2026

images belong to original owners; the work isn't an accurate representation of reality.

---

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა taglist: @livelaughloveseventeen @coupsarchive @choco-scoups @markoplolo @strawberry-yeo @minorwithchampagneproblems @shotovhs ---

divider credit: @anitalenia

[hannieoftheyear]

CLARITY [K.MG]

Mingyu doesn't want to pay you any mind. To him, you're just another girl that'll get her heart broken by his dumb best friend.

Why would he care, right? He shouldn't care about the crying sounds he hears from his bedroom when his friend stands you up for the girl he's actually in love with. And he shouldn't be getting close to you. He shouldn't dread the day his friend decides to end things with you and bring someone else home. He shouldn't be wishing to have met you first.

pairing: mingyu x f!reader (with a side of bad bf!jungkook)

word count: 30,2k (lmaooo)

genre: bf's best friend mingyu, (awkward) acquaintances to lovers, the other side of the f2l trope, angst, smut, you could say there's a drizzle of fluff

content warnings: emotional cheating, tsundere mingyu at first, too much crying, self-manipulating, moral dilemmas, jealousy, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, denial (tons), one minor injury, mention of blood, a love triangle?, sexual tension, inappropriate things happen between mc and mingyu, petnames: babe, baby, princess (hers) | explicit smut, teasing, body worship, praise, marking, protected penetration, it's love making guys

🎧: mine — ive, breathing — nct dream, knew you — kailee morgue, begin again (taylor's version) — taylor swift, i wanna tell u — lexie liu

a big thank you to tiya @gyubakeries and ro @shinysobi for reading this over and telling me it doesn't suck ♡ and rae @nerdycheol for supporting my simp and pathetic men agenda ♡

THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY! I can't control what people read, but I can control who interacts with my blog. MINORS CAUGHT INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.

disclaimer: i didn't want to make any svt member the asshole so i made him jungkook, but i love jungkook he's literally my bias in bts and my forever ult so please just remember that this is a work of fiction and it doesn't represent how he is in real life nor how i view him (it pained me writing him this way you have no idea kdjfgnrjeskgf). i also didn't proofread the last two scenes i¿m sawrry

last note: there are several pov switches throughout the whole fic, because it just went where it wanted, I had no control over it, it was the fic i swear.

check out my main masterlist ♡ dividers used: heartbeat, paper texture (banner)

i hope you enjoy! i'd love to read your thoughts :)

“Are you sure I won’t bother him?" 

You’ve blocked Jungkook’s hand from opening the door to his shared apartment, forcing him to look at your pleading eyes. 

“Babe, it’s not the first time you’ve come to watch a movie, he doesn’t mind, stop worrying.” 

“It’s just... he always locks himself up in his room when I come over. Maybe he doesn’t want to get to know me.” You whisper, in fear the door doesn’t muffle the sounds from outside and he’s standing just by the entrance. 

The few times you’ve crossed paths with your boyfriend’s roommate, he barely said hi before sprinting out of whatever room you were in. Sure, your relationship with Jungkook is fairly new, and you don’t expect to become friendly with his circle of friends so quickly. But if his closest friend won’t pay you any mind then how are you supposed to get along? 

“He does that to give us privacy, I promise it has nothing to do with you.” Jungkook doesn’t notice the coldness you're sure his friend exhibits towards you, as he has been that way every time he brought a new girl to their home. Jungkook attributes it to his friend simply giving him some space, to not make everything awkward by being the third wheel. “He wanted to watch a movie, and he said it was cool when I told him you were coming over.” 

A deep breath leaves your lungs at his confirmation, even if it’s already the tenth time you’ve asked the same question and got the same answer.

Inside the apartment, Mingyu sits manspreading on the couch, phone in his hand and headphones at the maximum not-deafening volume. Jungkook’s still in his fairytale phase, that time at the beginning of a relationship when he still tries to introduce his new partner to aspects of his life, in which Mingyu is included. That’s the only reason he accepted his friend’s insistent plea to hang out with you both tonight. And when a hand shakes his shoulder lightly, he knows it’s his Jungkook with his new catch of the semester. 

You sit on the other end of the couch, as far as possible from Mingyu’s motionless body, still unsure on where you stand with him. Neither of you make the effort to talk to the other while Jungkook goes to his bedroom to change. You don’t want to bother him and make him have a reason to dislike you, and Mingyu notices your nervousness, but prefers not to do anything about it. 

Mingyu has learned to not try hard to get to know Jungkook’s fleeting girlfriends, because no matter how nice or how pretty you are, in a matter of weeks, he knows his friend will find something to complain about and eventually use as an excuse to break things off. It’s a never-ending cycle, and he learned he can’t do anything to stop it. 

“What are we watching?” 

Jungkook’s loud voice breaks the ice beginning to build up in the living room, and quickly sits down between Mingyu and you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He doesn’t seem to notice the ignoring contest going on, chatting with Mingyu like the other man wasn’t just dead silent. 

After discovering you’ve never seen Rocky, a few gasps from Jungkook and a lot of convincing later, the movie starts playing on the screen in front of you. You didn’t actually care what they chose, just happy to spend some time with your boyfriend, even if you’re not alone. 

Mingyu knows the movie from beginning to end and backwards, could even recite the dialogues if asked, not because he particularly likes it, but because Jungkook somehow always convinces the girls he brings to their home to endure it. 

He used to argue with him about the reputation he built of being a heartbreaker, but Jungkook doesn’t see it that way. To him, he’s just trying to find the one in an endless quest that never fulfills him the way he thinks a relationship should. But Mingyu knows Jungkook well, and the real reason why he can’t last in a relationship for longer than a few months is clear as day, but Jungkook’s blind to it. 

You pretend to focus on the storyline, Rocky’s growth journey that Jungkook was so excited about, while he comments on his favorite parts. It’s not a movie you’d pick if you were alone or with your friends, too manly for your taste, and the romance aspect is too shallow, but Jungkook’s perspective and insightful comments are making you appreciate it more. 

Tears begin forming on the corners of your eyes as the final fight progresses, your throat closing up in warning as the rounds pass and Rocky gets beaten up by his opponent. No matter the genre, movies always make you cry during the final act as the protagonist reaches the goal after struggling so much.

After the referee separates both opponents, tying at the 14th round, the public demands a rematch, but Rocky’s more preoccupied to look for the woman he loves. You try to sniffle quietly, no longer being able to put a stop to your weeping, and snuggle against Jungkook’s chest, just as his phone rings, receiving a call from Cathlyn. 

From the corner of his eye, Mingyu notices the whole interaction, and he almost gets shocked by Jungkook blankly rejecting the call in an instant and putting his attention back on the screen. How didn’t Jungkook notice you’ve been loudly sobbing for the past fifteen minutes is beyond him. But the shock lasts less than two seconds, as Jungkook's phone rings again and he gets up from the couch, heading to the kitchen with his phone in his hand and his thumb already opening Cathlyn’s text conversation.

You know Cathlyn has been your boyfriend’s best friend since high-school, and became inseparable since then. You even came to meet her a few times. She’s funny, nice and outgoing, effortlessly being the center of attention.

The living room gets cold again after Jungkook goes to the other room, and it’s too obvious that Mingyu just doesn’t have any interest in engaging in small talk with you. Your last sniffles echo against the walls, and the sigh Mingyu lets out almost sounds louder in the sea of dense silence. 

Another sniffle from you and a tired sigh from him, Mingyu gets up to go after his friend who doesn’t seem to be coming back to the couch soon enough. He leaves a pack of tissues in front of you without sparing you a glance, and just walks past the couch. 

"Dude, don’t just leave me alone with her.” You don’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation. You really don’t. But the sound carries. And it just proves that Mingyu clearly doesn’t like you. “She’s your date, not mine.” 

“Sorry bro, Cathy was calling me nonstop. I thought something had happened.” Not necessarily true, as she called only once and Mingyu's aware of it. “She wants to go out tonight, clear her head a bit.” 

“I don’t care what Cathlyn wants. Your girlfriend was crying and you just left her there.” It’s almost like he was defending you, but something in his tone suggests that it isn’t about you specifically. You blow your nose one more time, and the sound echoes into the kitchen. “Listen, she’s still crying like a baby, go with her bro.” 

Last words you hear before heavy steps begin and get closer and closer to the living room couch until the man sits by your side. 

“Sorry babe, I know movies always get you emotional.” Jungkook apologizes sweetly, even if there’s something else in his mind. 

“It’s okay.” The sun setting behind the windows draws your attention away from your boyfriend. “I should get going. It’s getting late and I promised my roommate we’d go out for dinner.” 

Lame excuse, but you’re aware you’re not wanted at the apartment anymore by half the people living under that roof, and it really is too late. 

Jungkook nods, unbeknownst to the uncomfortable situation he's a part of, and grabs your coat as you get up from the couch. You turn back, smiling to Mingyu coming out of the kitchen as a form of goodbye, but he just nods and sits back down. 

“We're going out later, and Cathy’s paying, you wanna come? It’s a bar close to here.” Jungkook naively asks as he walks you to the door. He might be genuine with his invitation, but you’re not sure. 

“I told you I have an important meeting for the congress tomorrow morning, I can't go out." 

Jungkook hasn’t proven himself as someone with the best memory out there. You’ve had to remind him of important stuff a few times already. The key is to just take a deep breath and not let it stir up any anger within you, because that’s just how he is. 

“Oh, I thought it was on Sunday.” Jungkook asks just as Mingyu walks past the end of the hallway into his bedroom and shuts the door. 

Even he knows about your meeting, because you told Jungkook last time you were there, and even if he locks himself up in his room, the walls might as well be made of paper the way he can always hear your conversations. 

“Tomorrow is Sunday.” You note as you chuckle lightly. 

“Oh, shit. Then I guess I’ll see you when you're done.” He gives you a sweet kiss for the first time in the day, light and fleeting like a feather, and closes the door after you take a few steps towards the elevator. 

Nayeon closes her macbook suddenly, done with all the work you have been doing since the early morning, ready to take a deserved break. “So? How was the hot date last night?” She rests her chin on the palm of her hand, ready for whatever gossip you’re willing to share.

“It wasn't hot.” Your eyes don’t leave your notebook, in an intent to work on ideas to make the presentation more interesting. 

“You’re so secretive! C’mon, tell your best friends forever and ever what you did!” She insists, making you chuckle as you see your other friend mirroring her from the corner of your eye.

Your pen drops from your hand onto the table as you finally look at them. “It was just a movie night with his asshole roommate.”

“The hot one?” Jennie intercepts, now more interested than before.

“I don't know Jen, his only roommate.” You try to go back to your notes but your friends’ unrelenting stares make it impossible to concentrate. “And how do you even know him? I’d never seen him before meeting Jungkook.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re too cool for campus gossip,” Jennie takes the chance to poke fun at your lack of knowledge of basically anyone, “but everyone knows Jungkook and Mingyu.” They both giggle at their mention.

“Be serious, we're not in high school.” You deadpan, but deep down you know nothing really changes from high-school to college. The drama remains the same, just with a few years added to the people involved. “There’s no such thing as the popular guys.”

When you were younger, the different cliques that formed were crucial to what the experience was going to be for the years to come. And you used to live for the gossip. You always knew the latest fight or the newest couple before anyone else. It felt important at that time and it kept you entertained. But as you grew older, got into college and met new people, meaningless gossip lost its interest, your focus now on passing your classes, meeting new friends, and having the best contacts to move forward with your career.

Sure, you knew of a Jungkook, as your best friends are up to date with the gossip and like it or not, you end up hearing everything even if you don’t know the people they’re talking about. But before he approached you at a party, you had no real idea who he was. It’s true that when you first saw your boyfriend at that party, he caught your attention immediately, and it’s undeniable that if you had seen him before, you would’ve been caught in his spell like every other girl on campus.

“What I mean is that people take notice when two hot guys hang out everyday.” Nayeon points it out like it’s the most common thing in the world. And maybe it is. “They’re like candy to the eye, too sweet, unapproachable, but nice to see nevertheless.”

You don’t forget to roll your eyes before replying. “Mingyu’s still an asshole. He never talks to me! I’m sure he curses at me in his head every time I show up at their apartment.”

“He seems so serious all the time.” Nayeon adds, having your back. “He’s probably a stem major or something like that.”

“He’s always hunched over his computer, so he probably is.” You note, eyes returning to your notebook so you can keep working on the presentation and be done with the topic.

“I once tried talking to him at a party, but he just looked me dead in the eye and said he wasn’t interested.” Jennie’s stare gets lost to the view out the window as she remembers. “I barely told him my name.”

Nayeon and you exchange looks before erupting into laughter.

“You guys are so mean!” Jennie complains, but joins to laugh with you two.

“Hey, at least he had the decency to tell you that and not lead you on.” Jennie shrugs, not really hurt as she has already forgotten that cursed interaction. “He barely says hi to me before sprinting out of my sight.”

“He doesn’t really talk to many people except that group of friends they have. It’s not personal, he's just a little anti-social.” Nayeon puts her two cents in. “Just let him be an asshole if he wants to be one!”

“I shouldn’t let him occupy that much space in my mind.” You nod at them and they both nod back in agreement. “I’m dating his best friend, he’s going to have to accept it.”

Nayeon and Jennie exchange looks, raising their eyebrows at your words before going back to you.

You have a vague idea what they meant by that, but you still ask, incredulously. “What?”

“Nothing!” They say in unison.

They tried several times to enlighten you about Jungkook’s “reputation”, as they called it, but you prefer to get to know him on your own and not have your judgement clouded beforehand. Rumors are just that, rumors.

“Look,” with your hands slapped on the table, you order their attention, “I know you guys don’t really like that I’m dating him,” you observe, “but I promise, It’s fine! He’s really nice and I think he really likes me.”

“It’s not that.” Jennie says at the same time as Nayeon exclaims, “I’m sure he does!”

“We already told you, he usually dates for a few months before breaking up all of the sudden.” Jennie continues, paraphrasing every warning they already gave you. “We’ll have your back with whatever you want to do, just be careful.”

“I won’t let a tattooed man who I've only been dating for a couple of weeks break my heart.” At least you think you're stronger than that.

“Am I an asshole if I tell you to just not get your hopes up?” Nayeon asks, and if it was any other person, you'd get mad, but only because it's her and she just lacks tact sometimes, you let it slide.

“Yes! You are!” You chuckle, knowing she’s just looking out for you. “Thank you guys for worrying about me. Now, I think we should shorten the introduction a little bit. Everyone there already knows who Durkheim is, we don't need to explain his whole biography.”

The notes you've been taking all day stare back at you, now more of a bunch of senseless scribbles than useful annotations.

“Ugh! Back to work already?” Jennie’s body falls limp on her chair, not ready for more hours of brainstorming and not reaching any goals.

“The professor wants to hear the whole thing tomorrow, we can't show up with anything less than a perfect speech.” You insist, opening Nayeon's macbook again against her will.

“Do you promise to tell us any good gossip about those friends of his, in about…” she looks at her empty wrist, pretending there's a watch there, “two hours? We'll work diligently until then.”

A deep sigh leaves you with a barely there smile you try to hide. “Fine. Two hours, and then we can take a real break.”

The waitress carries two pieces of cake and the biggest strawberry smoothie you’ve ever seen in your life, heading to your table. The size of the cup brings out chuckles from both Jungkook and you, but as soon as it gets placed between you on the table, the two straws draw your attention, and Jungkook asks the waitress for another smaller chocolate smoothie. 

“You can have that all for yourself babe, I know how much you love strawberries.” 

You don’t admit that you were excited for the corny romantic moment of sharing a smoothie with two straws, appreciating that he at least remembered your love for berries. 

Jungkook’s phone keeps vibrating with notifications, which he reads but doesn’t respond to, trying his best to focus on whatever you’re telling him. His mind is anywhere but the diner where you decided to have an afternoon snack, battling between answering Cathlyn’s worrying texts and listening to the ideas you gave for the presentation you’re doing with your friends in front of various colleges soon. 

In the middle of your story is when you realize Jungkook hasn’t said a word, his eyes lost to the much more interesting brown swirls on the wooden table. 

“Is everything okay?” He’s been noticeably distracted lately, getting lost in thought more often, taking longer to reply to your texts. You attribute it to the time of the year, as he’s busier at work and with his studies, and so are you. But even if he says he’s fine, you’re beginning to worry. 

“Yeah babe, sorry, just a little tired.” His lips line up in a tight smile in an attempt to reassure you. “Do you mind hanging out at my apartment after we’re done eating?” 

Scraping your plans to catch an afternoon movie, you hum and nod before returning to eating your piece of cake, seemingly disguising your disappointment since he doesn’t ask any more questions. 

Jungkook leaves his plate exactly the way the server left it for him, the piece of chocolate cake with not even a particle less, his fork unused and clean on the side. He gulps down his new personal smoothie in a second, and as soon as the last piece of your cake is entering your mouth, he’s asking the waitress for the bill. He knows you’re still talking to him, he can see your lips moving, but your words enter one ear and leave through the other, having no meaning in his mind. 

Jungkook pays without asking for your share, which you weren’t even going to argue with him about. You’re usually a heavy supporter of each person paying for what they ordered, but as the minutes pass by, it’s becoming harder and harder to not get mad at him, so you’re going to spend his money without feeling bad about it. You know you should ask him about it, but shouldn’t he tell you if something was wrong? Especially after you’ve already asked him? Between being a pushover and pretending nothing’s happening, you end up choosing to just spend the rest of the afternoon with him and hope he’ll just tell you the truth. 

The walk to his apartment is less than 10 minutes long, but every dreaded step drags heavily, making everything move slower, with the both of you in silence, and the incessant notifications blowing up his phone acting as a remainder of his true priority. 

Jungkook’s trying to ignore the constant ping coming out of the pocket of his jeans, pretending he isn’t dying to just answer who keeps trying to contact him. 

And you have a vague idea of who it could possibly be. 

The cold apartment doesn’t feel welcoming as you enter through the door, lights off and deadly silent. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you tiptoe around as if in fear. Your reflection in the mirror looks unmistakably disappointed and sad, and you wonder if Jungkook really didn’t notice or just didn’t care. 

He can be charming and gentle when he wants to, always so polite and respectful, but the ability to be aware of your feelings may be something he could work on. Or at least understand that the things he does ultimately affect you too. 

In the kitchen, he’s already forgotten his one rule for the date, and is carefully answering every message he got, the glasses of water he was filling for the both of you forgotten on the counter. 

When he hears you come out to the living room, Jungkook rushes to sit with you, with a plan already in mind. 

“Babe, will you get mad if I go for a bit?” His fingers trace lines on your forearm, and you begin to lean into him before your brain registers his words. 

“What? Why?” You ask as your eyes search for any type of clue on his face.

“Cathy called me,” he takes a second to think about the best words to use, “she had a fight with her boyfriend, and I have to be there for her.” 

Jungkook never liked Cathlyn's boyfriends. Something about them always feels off about them, as if none of them are ever right for his best friend. In his eyes, he just wants the best for her, someone who'll really be able to care for Cathlyn in the way he thinks she deserves. 

“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” Deep down, you wonder if it really is so serious that Jungkook feels obligated to stand you up. But it’s fair, she needs her best friend when she’s having a bad time. The fact that her best friend is your boyfriend is a coincidence you can’t be mad about. 

“I’ll be back before dinner and I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He’s already standing up, his arms on both of your sides as he crouches to give you a quick peck goodbye. 

The door closes shut before you can even utter a reply, and his steps echo on the hallway, getting further away every second, until you’re left in complete silence. 

In the quietness of the apartment, you instantly feel out of place, unwelcomed by the inanimate objects surrounding you. Seconds turn into minutes, the ticking of the clock being the only sense of time you have left. You don’t want to grab your phone, avoiding the inevitable feeling of disappointment that’ll take over you if there are no texts from Jungkook waiting in your notifications.

How stupid is what you’re doing? How desperate? Waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the home of the woman that seems to be his priority? You know you shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially since he's already told you that she’s just his best friend. But it’s still hard. 

The back of your eyes burn as tears threaten to come out, blurring your vision just as you hear a key turn, heavy steps entering the home you’re not supposed to be in. 

 ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Mingyu knew he'd find you at his apartment.  

Jungkook texted him that he had an emergency and had to leave in a rush. And Mingyu knows what “emergency” really means in that context. It means Jungkook rushed over to Cathlyn's at the first sign that she was feeling off, and he wanted to hide it from him so he wouldn’t have to hear the same reprimand again. 

What Mingyu didn’t expect was to find you on the verge of crying on his couch, scattering to find any form of tissue paper somewhere inside your bag. 

You both freeze, looking at each other for about half a second before rushing to greet. You pretend you weren’t crying, and he acts as if he didn’t notice. Mingyu utters a quiet hello as you mumble some kind of apology for being there, and then he locks up in his bedroom as usual. 

His friend put him in an awkward situation once again. Mingyu doesn’t want to get to know you more than he already does. He knows you're on a different major and that’s enough, because one day, in the near future, it’s going to be another girl walking through the door instead of you, and he’ll never see you again.

He tried a few times to stay friendly, but no one really wants to stay in contact with someone so close to the man that broke their heart. And he gets it. That's why he stopped trying all together. 

Mingyu would usually come home from work, put on his headphones, and spend a few hours on his computer until his stomach urges him to eat something. But for this particular afternoon he’s been put in, he skips the headphones in case you need something, or at least until Jungkook comes back, which he isn’t even sure is going to happen. 

A project for work distracts him for a good while, organizing different stats and numbers on the excel sheet his boss sent him earlier in the day. He almost forgets you’re on the other side of the wall. Almost. 

If he loses his focus on his computer screen, he can hear when you move around on the couch. What can you possibly be doing? Is what he asks himself at any noise that reaches his ears, but there’s never an answer. Until something alerts him that you’re not doing well. The same sniffle he heard days ago as you were watching a movie with Jungkook echoes against the walls of his bedroom.

You’ve been trying hard not to make any sounds that may disturb Mingyu, as you assumed he was busy by the way you could hear the non-stop clicking of his keyboard from where you were sitting. But your mind seemed to have other plans, so much so that you lost control of the cascade of tears brimming from your eyes. 

In between everything, you miss the sound of a door opening and steps getting closer to you. Mingyu comes into view as you’re wiping away tears with the back of your hand, and you can’t pretend he didn’t see you this time. 

He sits by your side in silence, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say, but also because he can’t just leave you alone in this state. He feels responsible in a way.

“Is he with…” Are the first words that come out of his mouth after seconds of dead silence. 

“He didn’t tell you?” You look up at him to find him staring into the wall. He shakes his head, glancing at your slightly blotchy face before looking down. 

“He just told me you'd be here, but I figured.” Your body relaxes the tiniest bit. Good, at least you’re not an unannounced guest. 

“She had a fight with her boyfriend.” You explain, more frustrated than understanding. 

“Right.” He simply replies. 

Both of you sit there, fixed on your spots, too aware of the other. Mingyu realizes you’ve stopped crying, maybe because you don’t want to cry in front of him, but at least your breaths became less deep than before. 

A growl from your stomach reverberates through the room, and you flush in embarrassment. 

“You can–” he coughs before continuing, “you’re here often, you can help yourself if you’re hungry, it’s no big deal.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle, trying to conceal the humiliation, “but he said he didn’t have anything. That’s why we went out. And I can’t really cook, so.” 

Never in the past weeks would you have thought you’d be sharing embarrassing details about you with your boyfriend’s cold roommate, but life has a funny way of turning things around. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s no way you can’t do the basics.” His body turns, now facing you as he takes an interest in your not so fun fact. 

“I’m not lying! I can’t even make scrambled eggs.” You hide your face behind your hands, and you immediately hear Mingyu laughing as the dent beside you on the couch disappears. 

“C’mon, I’ll teach you. I happen to be a great cook.” Your stomach growls again, and Mingyu looks back at you as he walks towards his kitchen, leaving you no choice but to follow him. 

Mingyu’s not thinking about this exchange with you too much.

Yes, he’s doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn’t, as this will inevitably make you both closer and he will not be able to turn back to his cold self again. But he couldn’t just go on with his day knowing you were having a bad one, and even worse, knowing you were crying because of his friend.

He had to do something, and if that something is becoming your friend for the afternoon, then so be it.

“Grab the egg carton with his name on it.” You chuckle as you follow his instructions, “and his milk too, why not.” If he left you stranded, the least you can do to get back at him is use his stuff and not Mingyu’s. 

Between laughs and Mingyu indicating instructions like he was teaching a 5-year-old to cook, time passes, you forget why you were at the apartment in the first place, and you end up with a fine plate of scrambled eggs that doesn't taste bad at all. 

“I told you it wasn’t that hard.” Mingyu sits in front of you on the rounded table as you share the food. 

“Well, I’ll let you know if your teaching lasts until I have to cook alone.” You chuckle and avoid his stare, realizing your words sounded much friendlier than you intended. 

Back in the living room, Mingyu’s ringtone disrupts your conversation, and his sigh alerts you that he might already know who’s calling. He gets up with another sigh, throwing you a knowing look before going to answer Jungkook’s call. 

You appreciate his effort to make you feel better, and when he doesn’t ask Jungkook any questions over the phone, only replying with yeahs and okays to whatever he’s telling him, you understand that Jungkook’s not coming back, and whatever he’s telling Mingyu will just make you feel worse. 

Before Mingyu comes back, you do the dishes that you used and get your stuff together. The decision to leave has already been made. 

“Leaving already?” He appears at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the edge of the door like a statue. 

“I know he’s not coming back. I’m sorry, I should’ve left earlier, I didn’t mean to be a bother.” It’s the first time you’ve addressed that feeling you have that you constantly bother him, and it’s kind of freeing. 

“You’re not a bother.” A man of few words, Mingyu feels like he meant a lot more with that simple statement than just dismissing your apology. 

His blank reply doesn’t feel forced, not like he only said what you wanted to hear. No. He said it automatically, not thinking much about it, and it took a heavy load off your shoulders. 

“Still, I should–” You’re now standing right in front of him, looking up at his face as he doesn’t realize he’s in your way. 

“Right, sorry.” Mingyu rushes to get out of your way, stumbling against his own feet as he walks backwards to go get his keys. “Do you need a ride? I could–” 

“Oh, thank you, but it’s okay. I’m meeting a friend at a restaurant close by.” A warmness spreads on your cheeks at his offer. “Do you happen to know which way to go? It’s supposed to be a few blocks from here.” 

To redirect his attention away from you, you show him the address of the restaurant on your phone screen. You frequent the neighborhood on a weekly basis, but the blocks tend to mix up, as the buildings look too similar to each other. Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, trying to remember the names of the streets around his place. 

“I think it’s three blocks to the right, and then two to the left.” He doesn’t sound very convinced, but you trust you’d be able to tell if he’s sending you the wrong way, so you take his word. 

Even after denying him, Mingyu still accompanies you downstairs, and you politely say goodbye to each other at the entrance before separating. 

The sun sets on the horizon, the golden hue painting the streets beautifully as you walk. ‘Third block to the right, then turn left,’ you mentally repeat, trying to concentrate on the directions as well as you try to find a street sign that'll tell you if you’re going the right way. 

As you reach the second block to the left, where Mingyu implied the restaurant should be at, your phone vibrates inside your purse. The unknown caller doesn’t give up while you contemplate whether to pick up or let it go to voice-mail, but something in the back of your mind urges you to answer. So you do. 

“Who is this?” In case that another telemarketer got a hold of your phone number, you try to sound annoyed. 

“It’s Mingyu, sorry,” his deep voice sounds the tiniest bit robotic due to the poor service, “I realized I sent you the wrong way. You have to turn right instead of left.” 

“Oh,” you chuckle as your eyes read the street number you’re at, “thank you.” You don’t tell him you could’ve figured it out on your own, a tiny smile appearing on your face at his gesture. 

“I should’ve warned you that I’m terrible with directions.” His breathy chuckle reaches your ear at the same time as a metal ruffling sound. Was he heading out to find you in case you didn’t pick up? 

“No worries.” Your mind is blank, as the two things you’re most awkward at doing are getting combined in one: phone calls and talking to Mingyu. “How did you get my number?” 

“I asked Jungkook for it just now.” That feels weird for some reason, but you toss that feeling away, trying not to overthink about it. “You okay?” 

“Yep! Heading that way now! Thank you! Bye.” You abruptly hang up on him, the only way you thought to end the awkward conversation. 

Your heart rate escalates, pumping hard like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you go the correct way now. Whatever you do, your mind still manages to replay what just happened over and over again, until you’re standing in front of the restaurant hostess.

Walking towards the table you see Nayeon sitting at, the idea of Mingyu having your number saved makes the back of your neck tingle with nervousness, and you can't shake the feeling even as you greet your friend and she starts telling you about her day.

Maybe you’re giving it way too much thought. It’s just the excitement of finally feeling like you’re growing closer to your boyfriend’s friends. Nothing more.

There's been a noticeable shift in the awkwardness of your “friendship" with Mingyu. You didn’t become best friends overnight, but at least he stopped fleeting away from you anytime you'd be over at their apartment, and wouldn’t deliberately choose the spot furthest from you at any group gathering. 

As you and Jungkook step out of his car and walk over to the front door for the costume party a classmate of his was throwing, you can only take a deep breath and hope your extroverted self appears after a few drinks, and that Mingyu doesn’t decide he hates you again, because he’ll be the only other person you know at the party. 

Not much of a partier yourself, you’re just trying, for him. Trying to join your boyfriend in what he likes, especially after he showed interest in you being there with him by inviting you. 

The loud music can be heard even with the door closed, and Jungkook texts his friend to come pick them up, because ringing the bell clearly won’t do anything. 

“Hi man! Sorry for making you both wait.” A tall blonde man who you’re sure is named Jackson welcomes you in, giving Jungkook a man hug before looking you up and down and asking. “What did you guys come as?” 

“I’m a firefighter dude! And she’s...” Jungkook looks at you waiting for your answer, not even trying to remember the name of the character you’re dressed up as.

“Mavis, from Hotel Transylvania!” You smile as Jackson finally lets you in, and you can see in his expression that he has no idea who you’re talking about when you walk past him. 

As soon as you cross the door, it is a relief to find Jungkook’s whole friend group there, sitting occupying the entire couch for themselves, only one big body missing from the ensemble. 

Jungkook only takes his hand off you to greet his friends one by one, and makes them promise to save you seats while you go to the kitchen to find something to drink.

It hasn’t been long since the party started, but the crowded house is already filled with that dense air mixed with the smell of sweat, and the sticky bodies make it harder for you two to advance into the kitchen.

Part of you is relieved that Mingyu’s nowhere to be seen, if he’s even at the party. Sure, you’re getting along now, but being around him is still stiff and awkward. Maybe you can use this opportunity to try and get close to Jungkook’s other friends. 

Sitting between him and other two strangers that squeezed themselves on the far end of the couch, that plan is quickly scrapped. It’s possible Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re too far away to be included in any conversation, he wouldn’t do it on purpose, but you have no will to tell him. Not when his body is fully turned away from you as he talks to Cathlyn and the guy she's dating, Yugyeom.

The music's too loud for their voices to travel backwards and let you hear, but judging by Jungkook’s menacing body next to yours, he doesn't seem to be liking the conversation. He didn't talk much about Yugyeom, that name being new to you as Jungkook’s hadn't even mentioned him before. And from what you know, he and Cathlyn have been having some problems for the past few weeks, so it's normal for her best friend to dislike him.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Mingyu thinks of himself as somewhat of a good friend. Sure, he may have some faults and he fucks up every now and then, as everyone does, but whenever his friends need him, he’s there. He covers for Jungkook at school, listens to his girl problems as any friend would do, hates whoever he hates, and he’d never break that friendship over any random girl. That said, he’s still a man, and he has eyes. 

When he comes back from the patio after catching up with some old friends he bumped into, he first lays eyes on the striking yellow costume Jungkook’s wearing. But as he follows the bright color, he sees you sitting by his friend's side, his arm wrapped around you but giving you no attention as you drink from an almost empty cup. 

It's no surprise to him that Jungkook's too enthusiastically talking with Cathlyn instead of any other friend, or instead of dancing and enjoying the party. What shocks Mingyu is how blatantly he’s ignoring you, sitting so pretty by his side. 

Yeah, Mingyu can admit he finds you pretty. He might be a good friend, but he’s not blind, and denying it would just make him stupid. Any guy with a brain should be lining up for a chance to talk to you, getting lucky to be the ones you spare a glance to. Instead, you’re sitting with an arm around you and being ignored by its owner. It could be that he’s gulping down his fourth drink already, but he might even go as far as saying you’re his type. But that’s about as far as it could possibly go. You’re pretty, nice, and in love with his best friend. Well, maybe not in love yet, but you like him enough to put up with his shit. And Mingyu’s not interested. He can’t be.

A smile forces itself on your face as your eyes catch his across the room. The most polite way to acknowledge his presence without trying to interact with him further.

Mingyu nods your way and drives his eyes elsewhere. It’s not like he wanted you to do anything else, and even if he wanted to go up and chat with you, he couldn’t have fit in between you and the people on your other side crushing your free arm. 

So, he stays there, standing against a wall on the only free hallway –in which there aren’t any people because Jackson threatened anyone who dared to step within a two feet radius of his bedroom, watching the scene progress before his eyes.

Where his friend has a reputation of being a heartthrob, a player, or a heartbreaker, Mingyu’s always thought of as Jungkook’s serious and mean friend. A bad school reputation is the least of his priorities, and he doesn’t care to change how people he doesn’t care about think of him. It’s not like he’s not enjoying the party, he just prefers to stand alone and drink. If that paints him as a boring guy, so be it. He tries scanning the room to find a friend to catch up with, but it's pointless, only the bright yellow costume makes itself visible. 

It's mostly a blur of bodies messily dancing to 2000’s pop songs inside that room, but Mingyu could recognize his best friend's silhouette if he was miles away and 90% blind. Your costume contrasts with Jungkook's in a way that even drunk Mingyu realizes it’s you who's being dragged onto the “dancefloor". 

He sees you get loose as his friend's hands wrap around your waist and move your bodies in sync. It seems that every single light in the house is on despite it being a party, and you’re in the center of his line of sight, constantly and too easily catching his attention. 

What he doesn’t see, however, are your constant complaints about dancing, appearing as flirty whispers to anyone who wasn't listening. And after he takes his eyes off of you two to find a glass of cold water, you’re back again to your original place on the couch, this time with much more space around you. 

“Not much of a dancer?” His feet directed Mingyu to where you sat almost instinctively. There’s finally room to sit down so he’s going to take the opportunity before somebody else does. 

“Only when I’m in the mood.” Your stare’s lost somewhere in the room, paying attention to your drunk boyfriend dancing with his best friend. 

“I see.” You both sit awkwardly, body facing front and eyes focused on the same view. 

“Cool costume, by the way. I love Hotel Transylvania.” Mingyu manages to fill in the gaps of the heavy silence. 

“Thank you! You’re the only one that recognized me.” A small smile appears despite your bad mood. 

“People here lack basic culture.” A simple joke followed by awkward laughs from the both of you, the atmosphere doesn’t help to ease the tension of your interaction. 

“I wanted Jungkook to dress up as Johnny.” You have to stretch your neck to Mingyu’s side so he can hear you above the loud music. 

“That would’ve been cute.” Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say. It’s been a common occurrence for him to go blank when talking to you. 

“I guess he’s not a fan of matching costumes.” You try your best to continue the conversation, not really caring whether he’s interested or not. The little alcohol in your system won’t let you fall on an awkward silence again. 

“He probably got tired of them after so many years.” 

You freeze. 

“What do you mean?” 

Mingyu realizes he just fucked up. All those drinks he had before you came, and that one after, finally brought him to the stage where his mouth gets loose and he starts blurring out things he shouldn’t. 

“Uh–, I mean, Cathlyn used to force him to do it for halloween.” Force. 

For the record, Mingyu's not a liar. He might be loyal to his friend, not wanting to put him in bad situations, but he’s not going to go above and beyond to protect an already weak relationship. So, he picks a word that’s going to save Jungkook’s ass, but still saying part of the truth. 

“Right.” If you caught on to his deliberate choice of words, you don’t show it to him. 

 ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

It’s pointless to get mad at your boyfriend for such a meaningless piece of information. Every relationship is different, and you shouldn’t be comparing yours to a much older one. Their bond’s just different! It doesn’t have anything to do with you if Jungkook didn’t want to do stupid matching costumes. 

Still, you’re glad Mingyu slipped and gave away the truth, and you appreciate his effort to make it sound less bad. 

Jungkook gives you no time to ponder on what to do though, as he stumbles his way back to you, so drunk he can’t regulate his strength and falls hard on the couch. 

“My heead hit the back of the c-couch with my head.” Jungkook pouts and slurs his words. 

“Ow, baby, you’re really drunk.” Mingyu’s eyes pierce through your back, and a wave of self-consciousness takes over you. “Should we go home?” 

Jungkook’s cheeks feel warm in your hands as you try to get him to look at you, but his drunk mind can only concentrate on one thing at a time, and for the time being, his eyes are focused on Yugyeom’s hands groping Cathlyn's ass shamelessly as they dance. 

“I don’t feel so good.” He only says, his drunk stare having a hard time straying away from that scene as he gets up and stumbles his way out the house.

Mingyu runs after Jungkook just behind you, and manages to catch him before he faceplants on the damp grass outside. 

“Where did we leave my car?” Jungkook asks no one in particular, disoriented from his almost-fall. “Wait, you’re not my girlfriend!” His eyes go wide as he realizes who was helping him and tries to escape. 

“I’m here, babe.” Before he manages to, you wrap your arm around his other shoulder, leaving him no choice but to be embraced by yours and Mingyu’s hold so he doesn’t hurt himself again. 

Now that you’re outside, with no music blasting at full volume, no people around pushing you constantly, and breathing fresh air, you’re too aware of your surroundings. Or more specifically, how Mingyu’s arm and yours touch behind Jungkook’s back. 

It's a weird way to break the ice of skin to skin contact in a friendship, but maybe it’s what you need to end the lingering awkwardness that surrounds your interactions once and for all. 

“I saw you drinking.” You scold Mingyu after you two lay Jungkook down on the back seat and he turns to find his way back to his car. 

“I’m not drunk anymore.” He mutters just before he trips with his own foot. “Okay. I’ll crash on the back seat for a while and then I’ll go home.” 

“I’ll drive you.” Mingyu's silence as he thinks of a polite way to turn your offer down only eggs you further. “I’m going there anyways.” 

“I-I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” He fiddles with his keys, avoiding your eyes. 

“Of what? Me? His car?” Mingyu hesitates, the gears in his brain visibly turning.

“I don’t know.” It’s quiet, his response, and no matter how cute and defenseless he looks when he’s drunk, you don’t really have time to wait. 

“I’m offering.” You deadpan, but try to flash a small smile so his drunk brain doesn’t understand your hurriedness as anger. “You’re clearly still drunk, c’mon, don’t make me have to drag you.”

Realizing there’s no way out of this other than listening to you, Mingyu caves in and gets on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. “You wouldn’t be able to drag me anyways.” 

Of course, you can't push an over six-foot-tall gym bro even if you use all possible bodily strength you have. "Hell yeah I can!” Your teasing stare meets his, and you know he got what he wanted by pushing your buttons. 

"I’d love to see you try.” 

An indescribable feeling completely shuts down the workings of every organ inside you. It could be what he said, but it’s just a common phrase to tease a friend. It could be his eyes that refuse to leave yours. Or it could be the silver of a smirk that appears as you hold your breath. Whatever it is, you push it down, hide it on the very back of your mind and put up ten walls to disguise as a simple and normal response to teasing.

“We should-” 

“I don’t like him.” The drunken backseat passenger you had forgotten about interrupts you. 

“Who?” The distraction allows you to break eye contact with Mingyu. A believable excuse to put a stop to whatever was happening.

“That guy she was with.” Jungkook looks like he’s talking to himself, his eyes closed as if he wanted to fall asleep and unaware of who he's actually talking to. 

“Cathlyn? Her boyfriend?” Mingyu intercepts so you wouldn’t have to ask the awkward questions, already knowing where this conversation’s going. “Yugyeom?”

“Ugh, don't say his name.” Mingyu’s instinct tells him to see your reaction, to check if you realize what Jungkook means by all of this, and especially if it hurts you. “He has a douchebag face.”

You chuckle at his pouty statement, but deep down his words pierce a surface cut on your denying heart. It’s gone as fast as it came, but it was there, and your hands automatically started the car, urging you to start driving like nothing happened.

Ever since the evening started, Mingyu knew Jungkook wasn't going to have a good time. Not since opening the door to the bar that revealed Yugyeom there with Cathlyn.

“Why is he here?” Jungkook muttered under his breath, annoyed, on the verge of being angry.

“She's allowed to invite her boyfriend. Just like you invited your girlfriend.” Is all Mingyu replied.

Jungkook has been in his life ever since he can remember. When their first tooth fell out, when they schemed behind their parents to figure out if Santa was real, when he got his first bicycle and Jungkook laughed in his face when he fell and scraped his knee, when they met Cathlyn in high school and Jungkook’s eyes shined brighter than ever, when they went to prom and lost their virginities on the same night, and when they got accepted to the same college and joined the same classes. Every memory Mingyu has, it’s always Jungkook by his side. He can't mess with that peace, no matter how violently he wants to tell his friend to stop playing with girls’ hearts and realize he’ll be much happier if he owned up to his true feelings.

So, he resorts to trying to make Jungkook connect the dots himself by telling him harsh enough truths. It’s a work in progress.

In the few hours you’ve all been at the bar’s pool table, Mingyu hasn’t said a word. He's been sitting alone at one table on the side, seeing his friends sucking at playing and actually having fun.

With the excuse of being tired and simply enjoying watching each round, he took the opportunity to be temporarily invisible. With all of them busy, he can look at you all he wants, smile to himself when you miss your shot, and pretend to be drinking from his half empty glass.

There’s not much more he can do. Whatever he thinks he feels, whatever he thinks of you, it’s wrong. That’s why, at that moment, he prefers the loneliness of his table. The crude reality punishing him in real time is enough.

Doesn’t matter if you’re on the same team as Jungkook or not, your attention is always focused on him. You search for his touch, his eyes, crave his attention on you. But the more drunk his friend gets, the more competitive he gets, and the little patience he had with your lack of pool skills is quickly dissipating.

Another round finishes, with the both of you losing to Cathlyn and Yugyeom again, and it’s more than obvious that Jungkook’s annoyed. When your opponents excuse themselves to the bar to get more drinks, you try playing on your own and see an opportunity to try and get Jungkook in a good mood again.

“I swear I know where to hit it! My arms just won’t cooperate.” A chuckle escapes during your lighthearted shout.

Jungkook sighs at your missed shot, your pout having no effect as he’s trying to conceal his annoyance. “Which one are you thinking?” He only asks.

“The red one, close to the middle?” You point to it, waiting for any reaction, but he just waits for you to continue. “If I hit it a little to the right, I think it can go inside the left corner hole.” Bodily coordination may not be your strong suit, but you’ve played enough online pool that your brain’s trained to draw the imaginary angles.

The main idea was telling Jungkook your theory, him realizing you actually have an idea of how to play the game, and finally teaching you how to get a hold of the cue stick correctly.

“You have to do it like this.” Jungkook takes the cue from your hands and takes your place, ushering you to the side to watch as he takes the shot. “Your index and middle fingers serve to place the tip of the stick where you want it.”

“But I-” You were right, and the ball enters exactly where you said it would, but you can’t chant victory. Not when his attention shifts to a heated argument just meters away from you.

In the second it takes you to focus on what’s happening, your eyes land on Yugyeom stomping out of the bar, a crying Cathlyn left behind. You don’t even have to check if Jungkook’s still by your side, as he soon enough appears with an arm around her shoulders in an intent to console her.

When he starts getting the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and heads to walk out the door, you realize the comforting session won’t be quick. But why would it be? His best friend just had a screaming fight with her boyfriend in public. It makes total sense that he’d want to take her out to have some fresh air and a little more privacy than inside the full bar.

“If I knew the night would be like this, I would’ve stayed home resting for next week.” Your body falls on the chair next to where Mingyu’s been sitting in silence. His flat expression rapidly makes you uncomfortable, like you just crossed a line. “Shit, they’re your friends, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav–”

“No, you’re right.” He interrupts you, with a tone that implies you must've taken the words right out of him. “I get having troubles, God knows I've seen them go through stuff, but we're allowed to be tired of it.”

Between his cold exterior and sometimes unfriendly choice of words, Mingyu's surprisingly capable of understanding other people's feelings.

“Has this been happening a lot recently?” You don't care to sound like a gossip. “Her fighting with her boyfriend, I mean.”

Mingyu sighs, eyes wandering to the door through which both of his friends just stepped out of. “Let’s just say, it’s been a regular occurrence.”

“Well, let’s not let other people’s problems ruin the fun.” You decide out loud. You’ve been having fun since you got here, regardless of your boyfriend’s bad mood, and you’re not going to let anything ruin your last night out before the busy week you have ahead. “Do you want another drink?” You down the last sip of what Jungkook was drinking.

“Oh, actually, I’m saving to pay for gas for the trip we have next week. I promised to drive, so.” Mingyu explains, too apologetic for simply refusing a drink. “You’re coming right? It’s a congress that our college’s doing.”

“Of course I’m coming,” maybe you should be offended that he doesn’t know, but it’s not his fault, “I’m the one giving the presentation.”

“Wait, seriously?” Mingyu’s eyes go wide, in slight shock as well as in embarrassment. “I knew you had a big thing coming up, but I didn’t think it was that! How did I not know?”

“Maybe Jungkook forgot to tell you. You know how he is…” Mingyu nods at your statement, but the answer brewing in his mind gets cut short by the glass door opening once again.

As if he was summoned, Jungkook re enters the bar alone, quickly lets you know he'll wait outside for Cathlyn's uber with her, and leaves again without sparing you another glance.

Silence fills the void between Mingyu and you, only murmurs from the people around the bar manage to make it not unbearable. Awkward again, you never seem to have a normal conversation with Mingyu without feeling some type of way. Jungkook interrupting seemingly added a layer of tension very hard to dissipate.

“I’m gonna… practice playing.” You aren’t the best at handling awkward silences, so you stand up with that excuse. “I’m so bad at it! I think the stick does the opposite of what I want on purpose.”

Mingyu chuckles behind you, following you to the pool table to watch up close. “You’re not that bad.” You look at him dead in the eyes, head tilting to the side with scepticism. “I’ve been watching you play! You just need to learn how to get into position correctly.”

Your arms cross in front of your chest, deciding if what Mingyu’s saying is in any way true, or if he’s just trying to make you feel better. He takes the cue laying on the table, accidentally knocking a few balls away from their places in the process.

“Show me how you’d do it.” As he hands the pool stick to you, warm smile and standing tall facing you, you feel secure he won’t tease you if you’re awful.

“Okay, but don’t you dare mock me.” The lighthearted threat makes him chuckle again, and your fingers tremble grabbing the stick from his hand. “This is my usual.”

You mentally cringe at yourself, but you push through it and lean your chest forward, hovering over the table, setting the tip of the stick between your fingers and analyzing which ball to hit.

“I see where things might go wrong.” His voice sounds closer with each word, but it's not enough to prepare you to feel his chest against your back, his arms embracing you to guide your hand where he wants to. “Your hand’s too close to the end of the stick. You’re not in full control of it.”

When he places his hand over yours, helping you slide it up the cue, you’re sure your whole body’s covered in goosebumps. Your heart accelerates to unimaginable speeds, about to jump out of your chest as Mingyu’s breath fans on the back of your neck.

“I think we can get the blue striped one,” your mouth blurts out faster than your brain can think, “If I manage to hit the white a little to the left, I can go right and push it into the middle hole.” You try to play off the unprecedented effects Mingyu has over you, forcing yourself to get your mind back in game mode.

He doesn’t let go of his hold on your hand, his arm grazing yours even more closely. “Are you sure? That one seems like a long shot.” You can hear his smirk through his teasing words.

“Just help me hit it there.” Your head turns just barely to the side, finding his face much closer than you imagined, and your eyes roll before going back to the table, trying to mask the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks. “I know I’m right.”

“Relax a bit. It’s close to the hole, so you don't need to hit it too hard.” Mingyu extends his other arm over the table, helping you position the tip to hit exactly where you told him to. You don't dare move, his cheek brushing against your temple freezing you in place momentarily.

When you feel his hands tighten over yours, taking control of the stick with your fingers tangling with his, your arms fall limp, letting him shoot the shot. With the tiniest push, the barest tense of his muscles all around you, both your arms move the cue forward and hit the white ball.

The both of you smile as the striped ball falls in the hole you said it would, relaxing against one another before realizing just how close you really are.

“I told you, I was right.” You chuckle away from him, using cue in your hands as a barrier.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted your skills.” Maybe it’s the drink he was stalling to finish until you approached him, but Mingyu’s more relaxed with you tonight, a little more prone to smiling than usual.

“Babe?” But Jungkook’s voice quickly wipes it off his face. “Let’s get going, wait for me outside.”

“Wait!” You get off Jungkook’s hold, almost offended that he thinks he can drag you away at his will. “I was finally getting a hang of it. Mingyu’s a better teacher than you, you know.” You try to joke to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere, but it doesn’t work.

“I’m really tired, babe. And I promised I’d take you home, so, please?” Jungkook retorts, face turned your way, but his eyes are on his roommate.

The staring contest between the two men doesn’t stop, an indecipherable friction you don’t really want to find out the meaning behind.

“O…kay,” there isn’t really an out where the three of you will be happy, so you just accept Jungkook’s petition to leave, “bye Mingyu.”

You walk away, your hand in the air wishing for Jungkook to take it and come after you.

Mingyu begins to grab his stuff, assuming the both of you will be quickly out the door by the time he’s done paying his tab, but it seems the night is not over for him yet.

Jungkook grabs him by the arm and turns him around so they’re face to face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What the hell man?” Mingyu shoves the other’s hand away, a hunch telling him his friend’s anger has something to do with you.

“I leave for a minute and you’re all flirty with my girl.” Jungkook’s always been a jealous man, but Mingyu can’t help but sigh at the accusation.

Still, Mingyu can’t lie and say he wasn’t flirting. He can’t say he didn’t love the way you were blushing and squirming under him. And he can’t say that it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“I was entertaining her because you left.” He retaliates with a part of the truth. “It’s getting old man, you can’t just leave her to go after Cathlyn all the time.”

“You’re back with that again.” Jungkook throws his arms in the air, easily irritated by the topic. “You know what? I’m tired of this.” As the confrontation he was looking for didn’t turn out the way he wanted to, Jungkook begins walking away, “I’m leaving, we’re leaving.”

“You never want to talk about it, but you know it’s wrong.” Mingyu adds, a little louder this time. “You gotta stop.”

“Why are you so worried?” Getting more frustrated by the second, Jungkook barely turns, not fully facing Mingyu. “You never cared about it before.”

“C’mon man, I’ve always noticed.” How awful of a person he is. Accomplice to his best friend breaking girl after girl’s hearts, it’s true that he never cared this strongly about Jungkook’s extracurricular activities. Even though he always tried to make Jungkook realize the truth by himself, for his own good, Mingyu can admit, to himself at least, that now he has an added, selfish reason to want his friend’s behavior to come to an end.

“It’s my life. When I need an opinion, I’ll ask for it.” With that, Jungkook finally leaves, getting out the door to where you’re waiting in the cold.

Mingyu wasn’t done with the conversation. There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to say that it’s your life too. Jungkook's messed up feelings were affecting the people around him too, especially every girl he dates to forget. Especially you. But he just couldn’t keep pushing it, not without the truth coming to the light.

Mingyu’s reputation of being too serious, or even heartless sometimes, wasn't born out of nothing. He's aware of his resting bitch face, of the way he bolts in and out of class and the way he's never the first choice for group projects in the classes none of his friends attend. If he cared what other people thought of him, maybe it'd hurt. But he has enough friends, friends who like him the way he is, and doesn't go to college to expand his contact list.

Going to university, to him, was exclusively a way for him to learn more about his likes and interests. He goes to his classes and focuses maybe a little too much, but it’s how he lives his days, how the hours pass until he has to go to work. That is, until you came into his life unprovoked, and disorganized his sharp and efficient lifestyle.

He never crossed paths with you on campus before, and if he were to run into you after the first time he met you, he would've probably ignored you and scurried to his building like a flash. But today, he unconsciously looked around, hoping to catch even a glimpse of your figure coming out of your major’s building. He hoped you’d see him and smile at him as you walked his way to make useless small talk. But you didn’t, of course you didn't, and as soon as he sat down on his usual seat in his favorite class, he realized. He’s fucked.

For the first time in his life, the numbers on the chalkboard didn't make any sense, the words coming out of his favorite professor's mouth sounded like a mumble of pure nonsense. His mind couldn't focus, diving into the memory of your sweet smile next to his ear. Or the shivers your body graced him with as his hands purposely covered yours on the cue stick. His hand would grab his pen to try and write a single sentence, and the feeling of your fingers barely interlaced with his would overwhelm him.

What’s worse than pining after your best friend’s girl? As of the moment, Mingyu has no answer. There’s nothing he can really do either, besides accept you’re in a sort of happy relationship. He can’t take you aside and say ‘hey, you know your boyfriend? My friend? Yeah, so I have a theory that he might be in love with his girl best friend, sorry!’ Even thinking of doing so puts a bad taste in his mouth.

He's aware that, currently, he's at least top5 worst friends in the world. And he's not looking to end your relationship and get bumped up to the top1. It's decided. He'll just ignore whatever feelings are bubbling on the pit of his stomach until they disappear!

Easier said than done, because nothing he does seems to get you out of his mind. And the vivid reminder that he’s nothing more than someone you have to get along with is screaming at him everywhere around his home.

The four walls of his bedroom imprison him, suffocate him with the thought of you. He is a bad friend. He does want you. He does resent Jungkook for keeping you his. But if he broke up with you, would Mingyu ever see you again? Would he ever get the chance to see the heat visibly rushing to your cheeks as he walked closer to you?

Mingyu hates himself. He hates himself for getting turned on at the memory of your body heat against him, shivering at his closeness but not pulling away, letting him wrap himself around you, even if the both of you knew he shouldn't. He needs to drive his mind elsewhere.

Locking in to work in front of his computer, trying to scare away the sturdiness building up in his jeans, it might become the first time he wishes it was his day to go to the office. The front door of the apartment opens, rushed steps and messy, wet, breaths echoing against every thin wall that surrounds him. The reminder that what he deeply wants, it's not, and should never be his.

Working from home has never been so much of a curse.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Jungkook grips at your sides, his body flushing against you and pressing you further into the couch. The near desperate way his lips roam over yours has you gasping for air, but he doesn’t relent, hands making a mess of your hair as he hopes you give him the satisfaction he craves for.

He grinds his hips against yours with determination, and you press against him trying to give him what he’s hopelessly looking for. But no matter what you do, he goes in for more, your bodies getting more and more out of sync.

You try to give him what he wants, emitting sounds of a satisfaction you're nowhere near feeling. His mouth moves to the side of your neck, leaving marks you're not sure you want.

The white door, now in your line of sight, calls for your attention. You shouldn’t be thinking about other people while you have a man in between your legs doing everything to feel any type of pleasure. But if the yellow light sneaking below the closed door alerts you of something, is that the person at the back of your mind is probably right there, behind the dangerously thin cardboard the architects of the building call a wall.

“Isn't Mingyu gonna hear?” The choked up question comes out in a whisper, in fear, in panic. And the mention of his name speeds up your heart rate far more than your current activity.

Jungkook barely cares about your worry. “He's gaming.”

You know gaming implies wearing noise canceling headphones and tuning out of the real world. But is he really? 

“I don't know, babe, shouldn't we check?” It sounds stupid to even ask. Check? Knock on his door to very politely ask him if he can hear you having sex?

“He's not gonna hear,” Jungkook sighs, finally looking you in the eyes to answer, “and I wouldn't care if he did. He has to know you're mine.”

There's a speck of disdain behind his words, behind the weirdly possessive statement he just made. It leaves you more breathless than ever.

“What are you talking about?” You don't know what kind of egotistical manly fight they have going on, men friendships are not exactly your expertise, but it can't be about something you're aware of.

“Don't tell me you don't see it.” Jungkook hasn't gotten up from on top of you, but his hands on the sides of your waist tighten a bit more after your question.

“I don't know what you mean.” You chuckle in an intent to ease up the newly tense atmosphere. You didn’t mean to make it about him. “He's your friend, you shouldn't be jealous.”

“And you shouldn’t be talking about another man while you're under me.” Jungkook retorts, half angry, half still turned on. It's a weird mix. One that doesn't let you reply to correct yourself.

Jungkook lowers down to your mouth once again, kissing you fervently to make you forget about anyone else. And you decide to let go. He’s here, your bodies tangled together and your loose clothing crumbled up your torsos to feel each other’s skins. You shouldn’t doubt that, in that moment, he wants you.

You drift away into the feeling of his lips against yours, both hands cupping his jaw to relax the hurried pace he’s setting. His hands under your t-shirt feel good, like he knows what he’s doing, like he knows how women like to be touched, and it helps. It helps free your mind of everything else.

Still, you’re careful of the sounds that leave your lips. You let Jungkook’s tongue slip inside and dance with yours, muffling any soft moans you don’t get to restrain. He searches for something, his hips angling with yours to feel some kind of friction. If he keeps moving like that, you’ll be in the mood in no time.

A ringtone coming from the back pocket of Jungkook’s jeans disrupts the quiet setting. You stiffen under him, but he doesn't let his mood come down. You're grateful when he grabs his phone to decline the call and puts it on the end table in a rush, finding your body with his hands once again.

It's like, for the first time, he's prioritizing the time he planned to spend with you. He searches for your touch like nothing happened and you're the only thing he's thinking about.

“Just let it go to voice-mail.” Your hoarse voice surprises you, echoing over a new call. Jungkook doesn’t respond, not stopping the trail of kisses up your neck until your lips are against each other again.

But a call comes in again, and he groans against your mouth, trying to ignore it, letting the default ringtone soundtrack your activities until it stops on its own. It’s awkward, but he doesn’t stop kissing you and wraps your legs around him, trying to make you forget.

By the fourth call, you're both annoyed, and Jungkook reluctantly gets up from on top of you to check who's bothering him so much. The caller gives up just when he gets the phone in his hand, but from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of him opening his texts. You don’t mean to spy on him, not wanting to be a controlling girlfriend that needs to know everything her boyfriend's doing, but it’d be nice to simply… get told.

The clicking sounds of his fingers typing on the small screen of his phone are about to send you straight to a mental hospital. Why's he typing so fast? So insistent? Is he mad? He's not telling you anything, as if he forgot he was just kissing you out of breath.

“Did something happen?” You dare ask, even if deep down, you know the answer is clear as day. You know who’s the only one capable of making him drop everything in a heartbeat. “Is Cathlyn okay?”

“She needs me.” Is all he replies. Cold. Decided.

“What do you mean?” The question manages to mask the anger brewing inside you. For now. But you need an explanation. How many times can you put up with the same situation until you blow up? He can’t expect you to be all right with being stood up constantly.

“Yugyeom broke up with her.” He explains without looking at you, like that’s enough of an excuse.

“She always needs you when you’re with me.” Bitterness bleeds through your mumble. It doesn’t feel good. You should understand that best friends need each other. But why are you never on the receiving end of his undivided attention?

“You can’t expect me not to care when she’s going through something. She’s my best friend. She goes first. Always.”

His words are like a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter. The explicit revelation that his priorities are carved on stone. There's silence as he realizes what he said, and neither of you dare speak up.

Your lungs expand but no air gets inside, and your throat threatens to close as your body prepares to start shedding tears. “Why make plans with me if you're just gonna sprint her way at any sign of trouble?” You can’t stop them. “You’re supposed to be with me.”

Tears cascade down your face, quiet sobs getting in the way of your pathetic pleads. Covering your face from the outside world, you shrink in place, giving in to the crying as Jungkook kneels in front of you.

“Baby, I'm sorry.” His now soft voice barely reaches you over your sobs. “I know I haven't been very present.”

“No, you haven't.” His hands carefully withdraw yours from your probably blotched face.

“I promise you,” Jungkook makes the effort to look you in the eyes, “after this, I’ll be better. I'll make it up to you.”

He tries. But you, convinced or not of his willingness to fulfill the promise, don't want him to leave. It's not about the fight, or the sex, or even him. If he leaves, it cements you as the second option. If it was about winners or losers, you'd lose.

“Stay.” It comes out so quiet you're afraid he didn't hear you.

But he did.

“I can't.”

Silence again. Deafening silence as you look at each other with different thoughts racing through your brains. He decided. There's nothing to be done.

Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes it tight in an attempt to bring you comfort. He thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks he'll be able to nurse his best friend's heart and then come running back to you after.

At your silence, he stands up, reaching for his coat hanging on the hallway before sparing you one last look and heading out.

The soft click of the door closing behind him breaks you a little more inside. The couch, no longer warm with the weight of two bodies, feels empty, too big for you to fill.

Bare, exposed, you let yourself be vulnerable only for him to cut you off and leave you there, with your feelings blurting out of you in the form of tears and sobs. The undecorated walls judge you as you cry your eyes out. Is there something you can do that’ll make him like you more? You already try so hard, you’re just not… her.

When the white door opens to reveal the other man of the house, you're not surprised. Of course he was there, and of course he heard everything. Your luck wouldn't let you escape this situation without throwing a more embarrassing one at your hands.

It took Mingyu all of two seconds to realize what was happening. His headphones in the grip of his hand are proof that he did not want to hear what you two were doing, he just didn’t get to put them on. He may be a bad friend, but he's not one to invade someone's privacy.

That's why it took him a bit more time to decide to step out of his room. Would you let him be there for you? Would you be too embarrassed? You shouldn’t be, he thinks. It’s not your fault.

At one point, he got used to Jungkook abandoning his fleeting girlfriends at the first notification from his best friend that popped up. Mingyu never did anything for the girls, and they usually left after a few minutes. Maybe that's why most of them didn't like him. He didn't care, and they always cut ties with everything Jungkook related after the break up, so why would he?

He shouldn't be doing anything. Caring that you're crying alone in the middle of his living room goes against every rule he imposed onto himself. He should be cleansing his mind of you, stepping away from the weird not-friendship you two developed and going back to focusing on the things that matter. He shouldn’t let you climb up that list.

But as soon as he heard his roommate standing up and leaving, the itch at the back of his brain started screaming at him to do something. How can he step back and do nothing? He can’t be indifferent this time. Unfortunately, he does care. Unfortunately, every sob and quiet sniffle tugs at his heart and urges him to be there for you, to come out and try to be there for you as best he can.

The sight of you, even if it's not something he hadn't seen before, breaks him. Making yourself as little as possible, with your clothes wrinkled and your hair a mess, you let him sit by your side, the cold couch caving under him as he settles at a good enough distance that he’s close enough to feel him beside you, but not sticking to your side inappropriately.

The silence with him is a more understanding one. It’s not the first time he’s seen you cry, but you don’t dare say anything. Is there even something to say? You didn't argue, Jungkook didn't run away angry at you, he didn't tell you he hates you and wishes you were somebody else, yet, you feel as if he did something worse. Empty yet full of self deprecating thoughts you wouldn't voice out to the best psychologist on the planet. You couldn’t tell Mingyu even if you wanted to.

A hand, warm and firm, places just above your knee. It’s soft, careful, an innocent touch to understand that he’s there for you. The gesture is oddly comforting, and you allow yourself to feel everything. The embarrassment, the disappointment, the hurt, knowing Mingyu won't judge you for it.

“It’s not your fault.” Mingyu claims, his voice overpowering your racing thoughts.

Maybe it’s the way he says it so sincerely, but you break down even more. Your hands cover your face once again, bending down until your forehead touches your knees. Mingyu’s hand frees itself from the cage you created. He’s definitely had enough of your crying for the night by now. He tried to help and you repay him by dropping half your weight onto his hand and continue crying? If he leaves too, you wouldn’t blame him.

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

Your heart stops for a second, taking in your closeness and the reason behind it, and what he said about his close friend. Your head lays against Mingyu’s shoulder almost on its own, and he keeps you there, even if your tears start staining his shirt.

“He wasn’t like this before.” Your voice breaks trying to defend the you of the past, and the arm behind you stiffens before you feel his hand hold onto your other shoulder for comfort. “They warned me, and I didn’t listen.”

He shouldn’t be the one to tell you. Mingyu knows that. But you’re so broken, crumbling against him like there’s nothing else you can do, that he almost lets the truth slip out. It’s on the tip of his tongue, the thing that’ll break you even more. But he can’t allow himself to do it.

So, he stays silent, offering a place for you to let out all your feelings. Whatever you need to feel better, even if it’s just a little.

Mingyu doesn’t know how much time passes, or what you’re thinking, but he can feel how your breathing regulates with every second. Eventually, your sniffles become rarer and rarer, you straighten your posture and, unfortunately for him, step away from his hold.

“I’m sorry, I–” You can’t look him in the eyes, taken aback by the realization of what happened, guilt making you trip over your words, “I shouldn’t have–”

Getting up and gathering your things is the only thing you can think of doing. Whatever solace you found in his arms is now gone, replaced by an awkwardness you don’t know how to handle. Mingyu’s eyes bore holes on your back as you pick up your things that fell down when you first entered the apartment without care.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu’s gentle words help you relax, but the need to get out of the apartment is stronger. “You can stay, I don’t want you to leave while being upset.”

“I can’t be here, Mingyu.” You don’t mean to sound so hostile, but everywhere you look is a reminder of how pathetic you just were. It’s pushing you away.

“Is there anything I can do?” Mingyu hovers around you, not wanting to scare you away. He’ll do whatever you ask him to. “Anything.”

“I– I just want to be alone.” You walk yourself to the door, too tired to think about how you feel about everything that happened. Too busy to consider anything else. “I have to get ready for tomorrow.”

“Right, it’s tomorrow.” He’d forgotten about the college thing. Your college thing. He was so busy pretending to mind his own business and hiding from his feelings that he forgot you have your own life too. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Thank you…” Your hand rests on the door handle, hesitating leaving Mingyu after he helped you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your lips tight in the best smile you can manage, in an attempt to not seem mad at him.

“We’ll pick you up in the morning.” Mingyu announces, even if he knows you planned to come on your own.

“There’s no need for that.” You let out a sad, airy chuckle that squeezes Mingyu’s heart.

“No, We’ll–” he starts, but corrects himself, “I’ll pick you up. It’s not up to discussion. You, focus on resting.”

Mingyu takes the decision for you and opens the door himself, both of you ignoring the tingling at the touch of your hands. A quiet mumble goodbye is all you manage to say before going for the elevator. And Mingyu stays at the door until he’s sure the elevator’s going down.

The scorching mid-day sun heated the car so much you can’t rest against it. A few feet ahead, the guys stand in line at the convenience store at the gas station, with mainly energy drinks in hand and a few sandwiches. After driving the entire morning, everyone collectively decided to stop for a while for a bit of leg stretching and to recharge for more hours of driving.

It’s been a weird day from the start.

Mingyu picked you up like he promised, and even made sure you didn’t dare take an uber to their home by texting you they were on the way too early in the morning. You were about to open the uber app when he texted.

You barely got any sleep during the night, your brain switching from replaying the evening at Jungkook’s place and revising for the presentation. You rested so little, yet the usually soothing hum of the car isn’t helping you sleep, choosing to focus on everyone’s voice.

Since you opened your eyes, after tossing and turning all night, you didn’t let yourself think about anything that wasn’t the presentation. When to pause, how much to wave your hands in the air. It worked to an extent. But hearing Jungkook sitting by your side making the effort to talk to Cathlyn, who was sitting in the passenger seat while Mingyu was driving, almost made you go insane.

The only reason you’re alone waiting while the rest of them shop is because you insisted. No, you don’t need to go to the bathroom. No, you don’t want anything specific to eat. No, you don’t need to walk it out. Just in need of a little bit of peace. And Jungkook let you be. He’s been pretending nothing happened the previous night, and you’re glad he’s not forcing you to voice out your thoughts.

The bell above the store’s door chimes as everyone leaves altogether. Instinctively, you reach for the passenger’s door, as the idea was for Mingyu and Jungkook to switch seats so Mingyu can take a rest from driving, but a voice reaches you before you get the chance to open the car.

“Is it okay if I stay there?” Cathlyn runs over to you with a pack of chips in hand.

“Shotgun again?” Jungkook appears behind her, a sly smile on his face before he rounds the car to open the trunk.

She giggles at him but turns her attention back to you when she notices your silence and questioning look. “I’m sorry, I just get really dizzy in the backseat.”

Giving up on reality is easier than fighting it. You’re not going to be the one to deny the poor girl who just got broken up with. Sure, sit with your best friend, laugh with him and ignore the rest of the world outside your bubble. Who cares? “Sure, I don’t mind.”

The car is not that small, but with Cathlyn’s friend, who you didn’t know was coming on the trip until you were in front of the car on the street by your building, you end up between her and Mingyu in the backseat.

Feeling him by your side wakes up flashbacks from the previous night. But if before he was warm and comforting, he’s now rigid in place, looking out the window as the car gets back on the road. You don’t know what you expected, or why you feel a hint of disappointment at the pit of your stomach, but there’s nothing you can really do. You aren’t giving him many chances to be friendly with you either.

For a moment, you’re thankful for the cease in conversation, when Jungkook turns up the volume of the radio and random pop hits start entrancing everyone in the car into listening quietly. Cathlyn and her friend, who they call Mel, bob their heads to the song in sync without realizing, and it’s peaceful.

But then, the next song plays, and the two people sitting in the front part of the car collectively gasp. Mingyu shifts on your side, and you know he recognized what they did too.

“This is the song that–” Cathlyn starts, but they both laugh before she can finish explaining.

“He really hated you for that.” The only reason Jungkook’s eyes are on the road is because he’s driving, because if he weren’t, you’re sure he’d be laughing his ass off with Cathlyn.

“He hated me before too!” She slaps his shoulder before erupting into laughter again. “For no reason may I add.”

All three of you in the backseat just stare at them, listening, waiting for one of them to think of telling the anecdote. Your instincts want nothing more than to look at Mingyu, side eye him for a little help, but you fight them.

“What did you do?” Mel asks by your side, trying to get the attention from the party in the front.

“Our history teacher hated her in senior year.” Jungkook looks at Mel through the rear-view mirror. “She argued with him almost every day.”

“I can see her doing that.” While her friend chuckles at the bit of the story, Cathlyn still doesn’t turn around, almost exclusively laughing with Jungkook.

“And he threatened to fail me on the last test we had!”

“I keep telling you, there’s no way he would’ve done that.”

“It seemed like a very real threat to me.”

“So, you had to blast this song outside the classroom?”

“I had to make a show out of it!”

As they keep bickering about their senior year, leaving you out of the fun, the air around you becomes as awkward as ever. Mel’s laughing with them, the only one paying real attention to their jabs at each other. Mingyu, on the other hand, looks down as he plays with his fingers. You’re… bored.

The conversation you’re not a part of doesn’t interest you, the music’s no longer loud enough to help you take your mind off everything, and you have at least two more hours of agony.

So you focus on the cars on the road, the ones you pass, the ones that pass you, the grass, the animals, the farms, until your eyes finally close on their own.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

When you open your eyes again, the car’s slowing down, arriving at the motel that’ll house the five of you for the following days. It’s still bright outside, but the slightly orange tones in the sky and your stomach growling indicate the beginning of the evening.

A familiar hard surface below your temple holds your head in place. When exactly you fell asleep is the first question that pops up in your head. The second one answers itself quickly.

“We’re here.” Mingyu’s low voice accompanies his soft grip just above your knee, with a little reminder of the last time it was there.

As you lift your head and stretch your neck until it pops, it hits you. You fell asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder. A whole two hours where you bothered him, again. Made him take care of you, again.

“You should’ve woken me up.” Mingyu shakes his head at your intent of an apology, but you interrupt him before he speaks up, “I’m sure you were uncomfortable.”

“Really, I didn’t mind.” In the background, Cathlyn and Mel excuse themselves out of the car to look for their room in a rush. “I can wash all the drool off my shirt just fine.”

“I do not drool.” The way he chuckles compels you to join him. It’s easy, and the first time you even smiled in the day.

The door to the driver’s seat shuts closed with force, and both you and Mingyu scurry to get out of the car as soon as possible.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook studies you as he hands each of you your bags from the trunk. Cold as ice, he stays silent when Mingyu excuses himself to find their shared room.

“If your plan’s to make me jealous, that’s not gonna cut it.” Jungkook’s voice surprises you from behind, and the frown he wears on his face accompanies the angry tone.

“I didn’t plan anything.” He doesn’t speak to you the whole trip, and now he has the audacity to be mad at you? “But by the looks of it, whatever you think I did, it clearly worked.”

“Already looking for a rebound?” He follows behind you to the entrance of the motel.

“Jungkook, I don’t have time for this.”

You have hours and hours of practice ahead of you, and they might not be enough for your talk to be perfect. He knows the congress is a big deal to you, or at least he should. You can’t be thinking about anything else. Not about him. Not about your relationship with him. Not about Mingyu.

“Are you planning to break up with me?” You’ve never heard him talk like this before. He doesn’t sound hurt, just angry, jealous.

You scoff. “If you keep being an asshole, I might.” The answer blurts out without checking with your brain first. He didn’t expect you to say something back. You didn’t either.

“Fine.” Jungkook crosses his arms, waiting for you to say the words you’re not even sure you want to utter. “Do it.”

“Look, I can’t deal with this right now.” You take a deep breath, trying to think clearly, to not do anything impulsively. “You’re mad and I’m stressed. It’s not the best time.”

“Are you saying you’ll do it tomorrow?”

“What? I’m not saying anything, Jungkook, stop.” Your bag’s heavy on your shoulder as you rack your brain for anything to help you out of this. “Why don’t we take the night off, I’ll practice for tomorrow, you can relax after all the driving, and we’ll have a proper talk tomorrow. Okay?”

Jungkook huffs, mumbling something close to a ‘fine then, bye’ before storming off.

The back of your throat feels dry and hoarse from the hours of speech practice. How to modulate correctly, how to make your voice bigger. It takes a toll on you. 

When you and your friends planned to do the finishing touches the night before the congress, none of you thought you’d be trapped in a tiny motel room for hours, tweaking the words to seem more professional, timing yourselves to fit in the 15 minute time slot, and even going as far as to plan when and how to look at the screen behind you.

Your stomach growls incessantly. You haven’t had anything to eat in hours, besides the simple dinner the three of you had after setting up in your rooms. Seeing every one of you is tired, the girls don’t stop you when you get up and leave the room in search of a vending machine.

Somehow, the balcony has better lighting than your hallway, and you spot a big vending machine just outside your hallway. Picking a snack is not hard when your tummy begs for anything, so you grab the random chip bag you picked and begin to head back when you hear a loud thud and a curse coming from the next hallway.

Judging by which hallway you’re walking into, and the sheer size of the person bending over in pain in front of their door, it’s Mingyu.

“Are you okay?” You rush to help him in any way you can.

Mingyu’s head shoots your way and he curses again. “Shit, it’s you, hi, yeah.” He grunts in between words and tries to stand up straight. “I closed the door right in my hand. It’s no big deal, really. Go rest for tomorrow.”

Even from afar, you could see the sweat stains on the back of his sleeveless t-shirt. His shallow breathing and sweat dripping down his hair and face welcome you as you reach him. It's a sight. His skin glistening under the white hallway lights catches your attention a second longer than it should before it goes back to the cause of his pain.

“You’re bleeding!” Taking a closer look at the hand he’s holding, you see a growing red bubble right under the ring finger’s nail. “Let’s get you inside.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Shut up and go put your hand under running cold water.” After he’s helped you so many times, the least you can do is google what to do when someone has a bubble of blood growing under their nail.

The empty room catches your attention as you read the quick answers your search pulled up. “Jungkook’s not here?”

Looking over to the open bathroom door, Mingyu’s hand is under the running tap like you instructed, but he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. He must know about the fight you two had.

“He went out with some friends that came here too.” He answers before giving up and drying his hand. “It’s not clearing out.”

You should be used to him sitting closely by your side. Your breath shouldn’t quicken and your hands shouldn’t sweat as the bed creaks below him. Actually, you need to stop getting into situations where Mingyu needs to sit beside you. But you can’t help it.

Maybe focusing on his minor injury can help your body relax. “Okay, so, google says it should go away on its own in like… two or three days.” Even if there’s so many questions you have for him that you avoided all day, it’s not the time.

“I'll have to stay with a blood bubble on my finger for days?” His threatening pout lifts your mood quickly.

You chuckle, taking his hand in yours once again. “Does it hurt?” Mingyu shakes his head with a small smile growing in his face, letting you have your way.

Now that he’s calmer than when you found him outside, his fingers relax in your hold as you look for any bruises. His hand that held you and comforted you one too many times, now being taken care of by you. Rushes of warm blood follow where your skin meets his, even the lightest of touches aren't free of his effect on you.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Your mouth betrays you once again, voicing out your thoughts instead of getting through the silence. “Your friends.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” His answer is simple. And you wish it was enough to satiate your curiosity, but you simply can't stop asking questions.

“Nothing more?” You don't know what you expect him to answer. Maybe you're just looking for excuses to keep talking to him, to stay in the momentary bubble that surrounds you every time you’re with him.

“I haven't been… liking him much lately.”

Mingyu's careful with his choice of words. Still believing it’s not his place to talk about what goes on in Jungkook’s life, he can’t not be honest with you, not when you’re so close to him he’s sure you can read every expression on his face.

A drop of sweat drips down the side of his face, training your eyes to follow its way down until it dampens the side of his mouth.

“You're best friends.” A remainder, more to yourself than to him.

“Doesn't mean I have to agree with everything he does.”

Mingyu hopes you understand the meaning behind his words.

You hope he doesn't notice the way your eyes stayed too long on his moving lips before going back to his eyes.

You both hope for things you can't voice out, charging the little space between your stares with electricity. With his hand forgotten in your hold, reading his expression becomes your main task.

None of you dare move, and you know, somehow, that he's waiting for you to do something –anything. What you don't know is what you want.

Your phone chimes in your back pocket just when you part your lips to speak. There's a millisecond, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't watching Mingyu's gaze closely, where his eyes drift down your face. With your lips dry at his attention, you break the spell, letting go of his hand to reach for your phone.

Nayeon asks where you disappeared to, and sends a long chain of suspecting emojis when you tell her who you’re with.

“I–I have to get back.” Getting up from the weak motel bed in a flash, Mingyu's eyes follow you to the door. “Sorry for taking up your time.”

“You gotta stop with that.” He stops you in your tracks, with a soft grip on your wrist to turn you back to him.

“Stop talking like you're a bother.” He doesn't let you dismiss him. “You don't bother me. I wouldn't spend time with you if you did.”

“You didn't use to like me. And now you pity me, that's why you spend time with me.” Even if you'd like to believe otherwise.

“That's not true.” He doesn't let go of you, and you stop aiming to get out the door. “I don't pity you.”

“You never talked to me until you caught me crying that day.” Your head tilts, trying not to seem so serious with your counter argument.

Another text comes through your phone. You shouldn't be wasting time on such an important night. But is it really wasted time if you're spending it with him?

“It wasn't about you.” Mingyu reveals, but it doesn't really clear up your doubts. “I don't like getting to know people I'm not sure will stick around.”

“So, it's true.” You bring your arm out of his grip, a way to protect yourself. “I wasn't supposed to last this long.”

“Look. It's not my place, and I've already gotten too involved.” Mingyu's words fly over you, choosing not to overthink what he means. “Jungkook's shit is Jungkook’s shit, but you can decide what to do too. Don't wait for him to make a decision for you.”

“I'm capable of making my own decisions, Mingyu.” You say, convinced but weary of his tone.

“I know you are. He doesn't.”

The silence is striking, breathtaking, heartstopping. Words don't come up in your brain, an infinite echo of Mingyu's remark rendering you incapable of following a simple order.

“See you tomorrow.” You can only offer him a small smile before finally leaving the room full of him.

The applause almost breaks you down. You can finally take a deep breath. The thing you’ve been preparing for weeks, taking up most of your sleep time and raising the bar for how much stress you can handle, is finally done.

Well, not completely. Your speech is done, yes, but the time for questions begins. Jennie and Nayeon answer everything swiftly as your eyes scan the room for any known faces. You finished the presentation and you can barely catch your breath as your heart tries to slow down, so they take on the most annoying part of the job.

From across the room, behind the people eager to ask their questions with their hands in the air or attentively listen to your friends’ responses, the tall man only looking at you makes your heart stop.

Was he there the whole time? When you speak in a room full of people, you tend to disappear into your own mind, barely registering what surrounds you until your time’s up. He could've just got here, but deep down you know he didn’t. Deep down, you know he’s been there since the start, supporting you without your knowledge.

As a hand on your shoulder starts gently dragging you away from the stand, splitting the way between your connected stares, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. You're done, you can carry on with your life. 

In the hallway just outside where you just spent the most stressful hours of your life, you can hear the next group beginning their presentation, one that luckily you’re not required to be present for. Perks of being in the line up.

Getting out the other door, Mingyu searches for you and finds you walking over to him with the biggest smile adorning your face.

“What did you think?” Your friends’ giggles make it to your ears from behind. Merging the constant teasing you’re the victim of with their infatuation with Mingyu is dangerous, but there really is only one thing in your mind now.

“You talked really well.” The highlight of every word as his eyebrows wiggle with confusion lights a warmth in your belly that spreads across your body into a chuckle.

“You didn’t understand a thing, did you?” 

“I didn’t.” It’s his chuckle, and his smile, and his eyes glimmering, and his chin tilted down to get a better look at you.

Have you ever felt this way before? Easy under someone’s gaze, unafraid of making them feel less intelligent. He’s… genuinely happy for you. Out of all the presentations in the schedule, your subject matter was the least close to his field, yet he chose to listen to your sociology lesson.

“Thank you for coming.” You say before the magic fades. “You–you didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to miss it.” He’s the most genuine he can possibly be.

Mingyu undoubtedly, and selfishly, cares about you. From the sidelines, he saw you getting the opportunity, the toll the preparations were taking on you. He wasn’t going to skip one of the biggest moments of your life after seeing you struggle for so long.

“That makes one of you.” You don’t mean it to sound as spiteful, but the sour taste in your mouth as you realize who isn’t present triggers the resentful tone. “Anyway, I’m not gonna let some asshole ruin my day! We’re going to celebrate with the girls and some guys I have no idea how they managed to make friends with, do you want to come?”

Mingyu doesn't think about what you mean behind your invitation. “Sure, if you want me there.” He’d jump at any chance he got to spend time with you. 

Ever since that night at the pool bar, Mingyu never forgot your willingness to not let one bad moment overshadow an otherwise enjoyable day. A quality he could learn from. That’s why, he also can’t forget about the moments he comforted you, when everything became so overwhelming you had no choice but to let it all out.

“Let’s go then!” Your hand aims to stretch back for him to take, but the little angel on your shoulder wins this round, and you just walk out the hall with Mingyu following you, hand hanging cold by your side.

The evening sky greets you on the outside world, and the fresh air filling your lungs after being trapped inside the suffocating new college is very welcomed by your body.

Following your friends wherever they go, letting them choose which bar or club to go celebrate, you can only smile and silently walk behind them. Mingyu’s towering presence occupies the space to your right. He’s also silent, admiring the new city, letting you have the unspeaking moment you need.

It’s not long before you’re getting into a club with flashing colored lights and loud pop music coming out of the speakers. The sense of accomplishment embodies you whole. One less thing to worry about, one less thing weighing you down. You won't let anyone take the freedom from you.

It’s a carefree night. You let yourself be dragged to the packed dance floor, your friends leading the way amidst all the bodies crowding as they dance out of sync.

Being drunk could never compare to the happiness you feel as you join everyone dancing. You allow the music to take over you, with your hips and limbs coordinating to the rhythm of each song playing, blending into the sea of people.

You don't know when, you don't care how, and with no will to stop, you and Mingyu drift towards each other, the little space and dim atmosphere making it easy to hide everything wrong with what you're doing.

“You're happy.” Mingyu leans down to say to your ear. The only way you could hear him over all the noise.

“I am!” You don't fight the smile growing in your lips, focusing on the way Mingyu's eyes scan your face under the blue lights.

This time, the battle between the little angel and the devil dictating your choices ends with the victory of the mischievous voice that tells you to inch closer to Mingyu.

With the excuse of the loud music, you stand on your tiptoes to reach the side of his face, your lips grazing his ear as you say, “I'm glad you came.”

His hands steady you in place before you lose your balance, holding onto your hips and keeping you in place.

You should swat his hands away. He should stand back from the girl who isn't his. The tension sizzles from the tip of his fingers barely dipping into a bit of uncovered skin and up your body until your chest tightens.

“I'm sure you'd want someone else here.” Even with the scandalous meaning behind his words, you don't ignore the light teasing tone he purposely uses.

“I'm not thinking about him right now.” His eyes search for yours, finding only truth in them.

The people surrounding you, unscrupulously dancing against each other and paying you no mind, sway your bodies from side to side. Neither of you make a move to separate, letting the pushing crowd be the excuse for your closeness. You have the urge to wrap your arms around his neck, but you fight it. Maybe if he was something else, you would.

But the universe would never let you be this careless without some karma waiting for you.

When your gaze reluctantly disconnects from Mingyu's in search for your friends, the sight of two familiar people catches your attention a few meters to the side. You should've known he was with her. That he'd choose her over you even for this.

They're just dancing, and you can't complain about it because you're currently in the arms of another man too. It's just… different. 

Your hands find Mingyu's still on your sides, grabbing them softly to get them off you as your eyes go from the scene you just witnessed to him and then back. Of course, he gets it immediately.

“I can talk to him.” Mingyu has this instinct now, to shield you from having a bad time.

“No, I'll do it. I have a few things in mind to say.” While you appreciate him wanting to help, it’s something you have to do on your own. You can’t shield behind Mingyu any longer.

Making the sacrifice of looking like a psychotic girlfriend, the adrenaline moves your legs forward, no time to think further about what you’re about to do. They don’t see you coming, they probably didn’t even see you with Mingyu before, too sucked into their bubble to notice other people.

“Jungkook.” His shocked expression just confirms your theory. He notices you’re mad quickly, but the wheels turning in his mind, failing to find the reason for your anger, are so visible you can’t control your mouth. “Glad to see you’re having fun.”

“Hi, babe! I didn’t—see you come in!” He leans into the wall behind him for support, body as stiff as ever. “Having a good time?”

“Are you kidding me?” Admittedly, you’re raising your voice a few decibels over the necessary amount, but you’ve never cared less about drawing attention than at this moment. “You really forgot, huh?”

Only then, Jungkook realizes he messed up. It’s not normal to see you angry, especially not at him. “Let’s talk outside, okay? It’s quieter.”

You catch his eyes going back to Cathlyn before he places a hand on your lower back to direct you to the door. Astonishing, really.

“You could make it less obvious, at least.” The harsh cold night wind slaps you even more awake. “I’m not stupid, Jungkook.”

You’re not dressed to be standing outside on the street at this hour. The city’s too windy, making you shiver as if it was the middle of winter. You don’t want to look weak in Jungkook’s eyes, you need to look like you stand your ground. The cold is a mental state anyway, you can fight it.

“You’re not, babe, but what are you talking about? What are you doing here?” His cluelessness does everything but help his situation.

“We’re celebrating that our presentation was a success.” At the news, everything clicks in Jungkook’s mind.

“It was today.” Jungkook reminds himself out loud.

“Of course it was today! Why else do you think we drove all this way?” He has to be a special kind of disengaged and disinterested to selectively wipe his memory like this, you think.

“I’m sorry, baby! So much happened today, and I thought you didn’t want to see me after last night.”

“Don’t use one fight as an excuse. You forgot or you didn’t care. Either way, this was important to me and you didn’t come.”

People passing you on the street side eye the scene you’re making. Jungkook seems to care about being judged, taking in account the way his eyes widen at every raise of your voice.

At his silence, you keep going. “What did Cathlyn fucking need this time? What could have possibly been more important than your girlfriend?” It feels pathetic to call yourself that.

“You have to understand,” his voice becomes tense at the utterance of her name, “she’s my best friend. She means everything to me.”

You’re positive she’s listening to all of this. Hiding behind the club’s door waiting for the chance to come out and comfort her oh so dear best friend. It’s not her fault, but it’s hard not to grow an ill feeling thinking about her.

“Don’t I mean anything? Why get into a relationship with me if you won’t take it seriously? If you’re in love with someone else?”

It’s hard to form an articulated sentence when the anger and the sadness spar in your mind. It’s hard not to feel desperate, a pitiful attempt at making a careless man care about you.

Your gaze trains on the floor, tuning out Jungkook’s lame excuses and not truthful apologies. Without looking at him, and with only the grey sidewalk on sight, it’s like you can think clearly for the first time.

“I’m sorry, baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” It’s just a moment where you let his words register, and it’s the last thing you need to decide.

“No. You won’t.”

Jungkook shuts up instantly. Your gaze doesn’t falter this time, locking into his with your best poker face. You can see every thought passing through his mind, every little reaction he fights to show. He analyzes your expression, looking for another meaning, for any sign that you don’t mean what you said.

“I promise I will, baby, c’mon.”

The thing is, after so many promises, those words coming out of his mouth become meaningless. They’re just empty words he uses to get you to forgive him, he’s not being truthful, he’s just begging so he can feel better with himself.

“No! You won’t! That was your last chance.” It gets clearer and clearer to him what you’re saying.

You shouldn't have been silently enduring the scraps of his attention he was giving you. Waiting for your growing feelings to be reciprocated by someone who doesn’t respect you. Those feelings, however big or small —you’re not sure, quickly started dissipating at the realization that he simply didn’t care. It wasn’t his memory, or his busy schedule, it was the lack of intention. Care and intention he always showed to someone else.

“Babe…” He sounds like he gave up too, one last pity attempt you know he doesn’t mean.

“We’re done. You never wanted to be with me, and I certainly don’t want to be with you anymore.”

When you start walking away, Jungkook doesn’t stop you, standing where you left him with his eyes lost to the ghostly street.

Realizing the burden he’s been on your life and letting it go finally lets you see clearly. Your night might’ve been ruined, but you’re liberated from that pain. You’re not happy, but you’re not sad either, just walking forward, a new future ahead.

You’ve walked almost two whole blocks, the motel a half block away, when the sound of rushed steps chasing you alerts you. You didn’t think anyone would be coming after you, but you realize who it is right when the figure appears in your line of sight.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu’s breathless, slowing his pace to match yours. He definitely heard everything that happened.

“Yeah, I think so.” Even if you sound convinced, he stays walking with you.

“I’ll walk you inside.” He doesn’t look back, deciding on what to do. But you know he should be making sure his friend is okay. You guess he is, though.

“I'll be fine. You can stay with—”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.” Mingyu interrupts you before you can say the other’s name. “I don't care about him right now.”

Your heart stops for a moment before your brain catches up. All those times Jungkook left you and Mingyu came right to the rescue, when he got annoyed at them in the pool bar, or admitting he didn’t like what Jungkook was “choosing”. Of course he has to know how his best friend and roommate feels about everyone.

“You knew it all this time.” He doesn’t look at you, staring at the distance as he listens closely. “That he’s in love with her.”

“I didn't want to be the one to tell you.”

Your room door’s just one step away now, but you still stop in your tracks at his words. You never thought of his silence as his way to shield you from the truth. You never thought that the initial pity he took on you —even if he denies it, came from a place of hiding something from you.

“He was in love with somebody else while being with me! That’s the kind of thing you need to tell me!” Luckily, the hallway is completely deserted at this hour. You wouldn’t want to make another scene. You’re more aware of everything now, free but raw, as if anything could scar you.

“It wasn't my place!” For a second you understand Mingyu. Imagining him even implying it hurts more than realizing the truth yourself. But it still hurts. You trusted him with your most vulnerable moments, and all that time he hid that he knew the real cause for that pain. “And don't act like you didn't know it too.”

Mingyu’s harsh comment feels like a punch in the gut. There’s no malice in his tone, you’ve come to know him and his tendency to be too direct sometimes, it was just unexpected this time.

But he is right. There were signs everywhere for you to see, signs you turned a blind eye to. It was a thought that often crossed the back of your mind, but you dismissed it before you could think about it further. You were stupid to think you were paranoid and it meant nothing.

“Stop.” You realize you weren't looking at him and shoot your gaze up. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t blame yourself. He’s the asshole and you’re not at fault for believing him.”

“But I shouldn’t have. I thought I was smarter than that, turns out I’m just dumb.” You want to curl up in bed, hide from the judging outside world and forget all about Jungkook and the past few weeks. But not all of it.

“He’s the dumb one for not seeing how great you are.” Mingyu's hand on your shoulder manages to comfort you enough to hold off on the tears. “Are you okay? About breaking it off?”

“I know it was the right choice for me. But I have to assimilate it, I think. Sleep it off”

Mingyu nods in acknowledgement as your hand reaches for the doorknob. As if that was your way of ending the conversation, he turns his body to head out the grimy hallway, because he knows what’s next. You’ll cut off everything related to your now ex, a pack of memories in which he himself is included. This is why he shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. There’s no way you’ll want to be in touch with him after everything.

“Mingyu.” It’s your voice that makes him turn around. Even considering how heartbroken you must be, there’s a slight grin on your face as you think about what to say next. “I didn’t say I wanted to be alone.”

His heart accelerates as if it was miles ahead of the thought process his brain is having a hard time catching up with. Still, beyond whatever he wants and feels, he knows you need some time to think clearly, someone to be there for you regardless of feelings.

At his hesitation, you open the door and look back at him as you enter. It’s a clear invitation, one he accepts immediately.

After closing the door behind him, the unmade bed calls his name and he sits at the edge to take his shoes off as you begin your night routine in front of the bathroom mirror.

“I’m curious about something.” You look cute smothering moisturizing cream all across your face, Mingyu thinks. “Do you think she likes him back?”

He finds it in himself to chuckle. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”

“Look, I won’t be sad about it if I can turn it into a gossip session later. It’s my way of getting over things, so please just indulge me this time.”

You’re looking at him as you tap your face with the pads of your fingers. Mingyu doesn’t see an ounce of sadness in your expression, instead, you’re very serious with what you’re asking. And he won’t argue with that logic, if that’s what it takes to help you forget and spend more time with you.

“She never told me anything.” Your half closed eyes and head turned to the side signal Mingyu to keep talking. “If he confessed, I think she could like him back. They already act like a couple anyway.”

Mingyu realizes he went too far. You don’t say anything, but your shoulders slouch before you grab your pajamas from the nightstand and lock yourself in the bathroom. That was definitely not what you wanted to hear. Shit.

“I hope they can finally realize they’re idiots.” When the door opens to reveal the loose but all too revealing clothes barely covering your body, Mingyu can almost hear all the air in his lungs escaping at once. “Are you getting in bed?”

Maybe it’s his mind playing sick games with him. You can’t possibly be asking him to slip under the covers with you and be calm about it. There’s a lot of things he can calmly face up to. The idea of laying down so close to the person who’s been making a mess of his every thought is not one of those. 

Still, he follows suit with your not so indirect invite. He doesn’t want to make assumptions about you, about the situation, or about what you want, so he lets you take the lead for tonight. Trusting that you’ll show him what you need and believing that he can give it to you.

The both of you lay awkwardly side by side, facing the ceiling deep in thought. Only the breathing sounds and the way your arm grazes against his keep Mingyu’s senses in check. He feels like a highschooler having his first conversation with his crush. He can no longer be the cool, calm self he praised himself to be. So, he resorts to silence.

“Was he always like that? Ending relationships after realizing it’s not what he wants?” You turn in your place, facing him with those doe eyes of yours that always make him fold.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s the girls that break up with him.” He mirrors your position, feeling better at the entire situation when he sees your smile at his comment.

“Good for them.”

There’s something in your gaze that makes Mingyu question if it’s worth it to be loyal to his friend. Though that moral code must’ve been broken already, there’s still a line, no matter how thin, he hasn’t crossed yet. Emphasis on ‘he’, because he can never be sure what’s your next move.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He dares to ask again.

Mingyu’s hyper aware of how close you are. How you shift a bit closer to him as you think your answer. He thought the clothes he was wearing were okay to sleep in, but his bodily temperature keeps rising at the thought of you.

“I still feel a bit stupid.” He can’t stand hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he doesn’t get to argue. You shut his mouth closed, placing your index finger on the center of his lips before he can utter a word. A touch so innocent he immediately feels bad at how electrifying it felt. “My friends warned me that his relationships never lasted. And I guess I wanted to see it for myself. Have the empirical data, if you will.”

He sees your gaze go down from his eyes, and your hand goes down with it to whatever caught your attention. He swallows hard, waiting for just one signal. The chain around his neck tugs at the back, and he realizes you’re inspecting the little charm hanging from it.

“It’s not like I was in love with him.” Every word you say feels like fire on his end. “He was fun at first. That’s what I liked about him.”

You play with Mingyu’s chain like it’s second nature. Like you don’t realize your hand’s dangerously close to his chest, about to feel the beating of his heart growing stronger each second.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” That makes your eyes go up again, eyelashes fluttering so close he could count each one of them.

“I get why you didn’t, you’re a good friend. And I think it was better for me to realize on my own, if that makes you feel any better.” The smile that grows on him matches yours perfectly.

“I don’t know how much of a good friend I am anymore.” The honesty slips out of him under your scanning stare. “I’m here after all, aren’t I?”

Mingyu should feel guilty. He left the bar to go after you without so much of a second thought, leaving his supposed best friend to deal with everything on his own. That’s how much he cares about you. His need for you overflows into every area of his life, making the guilt disappear into the stream of things that don’t matter. You’re not taken anymore. And, deep down, he knows Jungkook’s going to be fine. He doesn’t care about you even a fraction of how much Mingyu does.

He’s still deep in thought when he feels your hand going up the side of his jaw. Your icy fingers contrast against his fiery skin, driving him to lean into your touch. He’d close his eyes and let you do anything you wanted if it wasn’t for the intoxicating force of your gaze.

The irrational part of his brain doesn’t let him stop you as your face gets closer so his. You’re slowly testing the waters, seeing if he’ll back down, but Mingyu’s quicker, and leans down the last millimeters to finally connect.

Your lips melt against his with a soft sigh, and everything stills for a moment. Enveloped with the tenderness of your touch, he feels you hazily pressing further against him, unsurely yearning for more.

But the rational part of his brain, the one that tugs on the last strand of morale he has, retrieves his head from your electrifying kiss.

“We shouldn’t—” Mingyu regrets it instantly at the sight of your saddened eyes. But he knows it’s for the best. He couldn’t live with himself if you weren’t sure.

“You don’t want to?” The way your hand flies away from his personal space almost makes him take it and put it back where it belongs.

“I do.” He sounds desperate. He needs you to understand. “But you should see how you feel when you have a clear mind.”

A thousand thoughts rush through your mind, visibly turning your expression soft again. Mingyu offers his arm for you to lay on, the most outlandish peace offering he can make without losing his mind first.

“Okay.” Your soft voice reverberates up his arm as you lay your head on his relaxed bicep. “Do you want to leave?”

He couldn't begin to imagine any dimension in the multiverse where he'd choose to stay away from the featheriness of your skin against his. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I asked you first.” Your light chuckle heals the worry beginning to creep up on Mingyu. In the future, he'll make sure you never doubt him again.

“I don't want to leave.”

The way your smile keeps making a blank slate of his brain should worry Mingyu. But he's never felt this way before, and if there's a chance, however big or small, that you could feel the same way, he won't go back.

“And I want you to stay.”

The morning sun rays bleed through the flimsy curtain, illuminating the otherwise plain motel room in a golden light. You feel warm all around, wrapped in Mingyu’s arms instead of the bedsheets that sometime along the night seem to have fallen to the floor.

But even in the confinement of Mingyu’s backhug, you feel free. What has been dragging your spirit through the floor finally cut from your life. The previous night’s events faded to a distant memory as soon as you laid your head in Mingyu’s chest and drifted to the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You don’t dare turn in his hold, afraid to wake him up and make him face the day. That’s the one thing you haven’t been able to dust off since you opened your eyes. The guilt.

Maybe for you, cutting Jungkook out of your life was the best decision, but Mingyu was his friend first, and last night, for whatever reason, he chose you. He chose to comfort the whiny girl that dumped his boyfriend instead of his best friend since they were in the womb.

The morning with him feels like sunrises on the beach, like a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day, like being trapped in an infinite bear hug. It feels like hope. And the guilt from wanting it all could consume you whole just like the need for him.

Mingyu must have mind reading superpowers, because his arms tighten around you before the guilt overwhelms you, easily forgetting it all at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

Neither of you say anything, sharing the comfortable silence, relishing being in each other’s arms. You don’t stop him when he tangles his legs with yours, feeling him everywhere from head to toe. You let your hands caress his forearms as they drift dangerously close to your lower belly.

It’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong on some moral level. Borderline evil even. It’s too soon, and you need to understand what you’re feeling before moving forward with whatever this is. This that feels so nice, so right, but so wrong.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to be having the same moral dilemma that’s running around your mind anymore. The hardness you feel pressing against your inner thigh followed by a gasp that spreads goosebumps all across your back confirming your theory.

In the morning haze, in the limbo between days where time doesn’t run and actions don’t have consequences, you give into his infectious desire. The agreement you made the night before flying out the window as soon as a fire ignites all across your body.

You purposely grind against him, the indecent action causing your face to feel even warmer. A low moan gets caught in Mingyu’s throat at the feeling of your ass against his morning wood, one hand gripping your hip to keep you in place.

“What are you doing?” His raspy voice sends another fire down your body, making you squirm in his grip.

“Nothing.” You feign innocence, pretending to straighten your posture but ultimately pressing yourself harder against his chest. “You don't like it?”

The space between your bodies is crushed impossibly tighter until all you can feel are his muscles tensing in his search for you. The barrier you left standing the night before, demolished with little care as he sighs to your ear.

“It's not that, princess,” every bit of skin Mingyu touches works like a button to make you need him more and more, “we should wait.”

You'd agree with him if it wasn't for the elastic of your sleeping shorts stretching to fit his wandering hand. It’s a timid action, one that contradicts his words but only gets encouraged by your gasp. These aren’t the hands that held you close when you were broken, no, these are the ones that felt you shiver pretending to teach you to play pool, the ones that pushed you against him in the dimness of the club. The ones you crave with your whole body.

At your reaction, he drifts further down, playing with the hem of your panties so painfully slow the grip of your hand on his forearm grows stronger with each second he doesn't fully touch you. His lips graze your shoulder, trying to contain himself from kissing every inch he can reach.

When he flattens on your pelvis, pressing you against his faltering hips, you swear your whimper drives him to not so innocently thrust behind you. The room is impossibly hot, but you don’t care, nothing matters other than your need to feel him inside.

Your mouth opens, hoping to work enough to plead for him, but a loud knock on your door startles you both out of the embrace.

If the earth it’s going to swallow you at any point in life, you hope it’s right then and there. Your panties are uncomfortably sticky as your embarrassed gaze connects with Mingyu, the both of you speechless with guilt. The most awkward second ever before another knock echoes into the room.

“Tell Jennie I’ll be out in a second? I promised her we’d go out for breakfast together.”

The embarrassment doesn’t let you look at him a second longer before you lock yourself in the bathroom. Maybe a splash of cold water on your face can help you not look like you just got cockblocked.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

However Mingyu thought his morning would go, the reality was far from his imagination, though it felt far better. He wouldn't mind waking up next to you again, heating up your skin with his touch until you whimper for him.

The sight of you, just woken up and shy at the boldness of what you just did, puts a sheepish smirk on his face. He almost forgets the wrongness of everything. But the decision he made, selfish and long forgotten, quickly comes back to bite him in the ass as he opens the door.

“Wow, this is a nice sight!” Jungkook's face morphs into sarcastic shock as the door reveals a disheveled Mingyu.

“What are you doing here?” In all honesty, Mingyu didn’t think about his friend last night, deep down knowing he wasn’t going to be hurt for long.

“Are you her bodyguard now? I just want to talk about last night.” Jungkook attempts to take half a step into your room, but Mingyu immediately blocks the door.

“It’s not the time to get in my way, man.” The baseless threat doesn’t make Mingyu budge in the slightest, which pisses Jungkook off. The man’s eyes widen after scanning the state of the room. “Did you fuck her?”

“What?” Mingyu can't believe what he's hearing. 

“I asked, Did. You. Fuck. Her?” Speaking each word with clenched teeth, Jungkook's voice bleeds anger.

“Why do you care?”

Jungkook barely lets him finish his question. “So you fucked her.”

The crude language puts a bitter taste in Mingyu's mouth. As if only the sex mattered and not everything else. Not that he comforted you at your weakest, that you opened up your heart to him, that you kissed him so softly he almost passed out. Mingyu can only hope the bathroom door miraculously becomes soundproof.

“Don't pretend to care about her now.” Never in his life has he talked to Jungkook this way, always afraid of what could happen to their friendship if he tried to put some sense into him. Then again, his actions never hurt someone Mingyu actually cared about.

“I bet you couldn’t wait for me to dump her.” The words spit out of Jungkook’s mouth like acid. “Eager to take on my leftovers.”

“Dude, I get that you're mad, but you're getting out of line.” The peacemaker in Mingyu takes over —it’s either that or a punch in the face, and tries to get his friend back in the hallway.

“I’m not mad!” He gasps with a hand to his chest. “Just shocked, that's all. Didn’t even let a day pass.” Venom coats every word he says, justifiably betrayed by the one friend he thought he could always count with.

“I didn’t mean for it to come to this,” Mingyu admits quietly, “I wasn’t supposed to care.”

There’s nothing as Jungkook processes those words. A tense second that becomes an infinite one, a void sucking every apology out of his mouth. Mingyu would pay millions to know what’s going on in his friend’s head. He could always tell what he was feeling even when he shut everyone off. But he was never the one causing his anger.

“I can g—”

“I’ll take the bus home with Cathy.” Is all Jungkook says.

His blank face waits for Mingyu to nod before walking away with no second thoughts. Out of the million outcomes he thought for this conversation, Mingyu never thought he’d be the one left speechless. But they both clearly need some time alone before going back to being roommates, before talking like two grown adults and resolving this.

It’s the sound of a door closing just meters behind him that takes him back to the room, your room.

Mingyu doesn’t know what to do to shield you from the hurt. He’s tired of simply being there to comfort you in the aftermath. He can’t stand the sight before him, your lips turn downwards trying to get a hold of your feelings. He can see it all, the process of all the emotions going through your brain, until your face settles to a serious expression.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Mingyu stays at the threshold of the door, not sure if you’d still want him as company.

“Don’t be. I’m glad I did.” You stay put in place, half a step from the messy bed, looking everywhere but at him. “At least I don’t have to feel guilty anymore.”

Guilt. That’s what he noticed when he gained consciousness and felt you tense in his hold. “About what happened earlier—”

“I’m sorry about that,” you interrupt him in his hesitation, “you said you didn’t want to and I crossed the line.”

“It’s not—” Your lips part in surprise as your eyes fly to his. “I—shit, I don’t want you to think I’m only being nice for something in return.”

“You should be glad I don’t think of you that way.” It’s a weird feel of rejection, the one in your heart as you start picking up your things. A man says he doesn’t want to have sex after rubbing himself against you and fighting with your ex boyfriend. “We should pack, get ready to leave.”

“What do you think of me then?”

Mingyu standing leaning against the doorframe, following your every move with his eyes, makes you stumble upon every possible obstacle on your way. Even with your gaze elsewhere, you can feel him watching your every move.

“I think you’re a good man that lacks a sense of urgency.” Unfortunately, you didn’t bring much stuff on the trip, and you’re getting to the end of things to take your mind off of Mingyu. “Are you going to stare at me all day?”

“I like you.” Mingyu’s sure about a lot of things, but at the weight lifting from his shoulders, the way you stop at his words and how you wait for him to continue, he’s certain he’s never felt like this before. “I’m sorry if that's weird and wrong to say, but I do.”

“I—” There’s no way to describe it, how your mind clears of any reasonable thought the second those words escape Mingyu’s lips.

“You don’t have to say anything. Like I said last night, I want you to figure out how you feel on your own time. I’ll be here, you can count on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His assurance helps. He somehow always knows how to help you, what to say, how to act.

Before you know it, you’re face to face with him, his warmth embracing you as he tilts his head down, waiting for your next move. Your cheek lays softly on his chest after wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly, the only way you have to express your gratitude.

Warm air effortlessly fills your lungs, the scent of him coating every one of your senses as he replicates your hug. His arms feel right around you, as if you were meant to be like this forever, and you relax in his hold.

“Thank you.” Two simple words that mean so much more are the only thing you manage to utter, hoping he'll understand. 

“Always.”

Some girls my friends met at the congress came to town and begged for us to take them to a club Do you want to come? It’s close to my place

As soon as you press send, you throw your phone at your bed on the other side of the room.

It’s been two weeks since the most eventful weekend of your life. Two weeks since you finally stood up for yourself and chose your well being for once. Two weeks since Mingyu started being one of the most important parts of your everyday life.

Those afternoons when he made you wonder if you actually fit in his friend’s life, when the thought of him would cause you an immediate headache, feel like a ghost of the past. You couldn’t imagine not being around him now, not receiving his ominous texts in the middle of the night after he finishes a random project for college that you don’t understand, or not seeing his face after class when he picks you up and  rambles about how good his class was that day.

He promised he’d be there for you, waiting for you to see how you feel about him without expecting anything in return. And every day that passes, the hurt and confusion fades away bit by bit, and a new, stronger, unexplored, feeling grows in your heart.

You don’t know what compelled you to invite Mingyu out of nowhere. You’re fully dressed, about to leave and with your friends already waiting on your building’s front door, but something at the back of your mind itched with a potent need to see him. Your fingers clicked on his contact and texted him before you could realize what you were doing.

It’s not two minutes later that your phone vibrates with a new notification. Your skin crawls with the combined anxiety of wanting to see him but also not wanting to see him at all. The usual two feelings that fight to take over every time you think of him.

You’re quick to run out your apartment before your friends come up and drag you out themselves. With your unlocked phone in hand, Mingyu’s name lights up your screen.

Sure. Text me address. I’ll meet you there.

The simplicity of his texts always makes you chuckle, embarrassingly smitten by his short sentences. You quickly text him the name and address before hopping off the elevator and joining your friends in the cold weather in which you’re not meant to be wearing the club clothing you chose.

You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit you were nervous to see Mingyu. The change came without warning. After getting used to him checking up on you, learning your coffee order and your class schedule, the anticipation started taking over you. Your eyes look for him around campus, your feet flee out of your classroom knowing he’s going to be there waiting for you.

You try to distract yourself when you get too in your mind about it, about him. It’s a difficult new kind of occurrence you’re not sure how to navigate, so you resort to acting nonchalant about it. That’s why, when he arrives and your friends make eyes at you, you don’t let the subject go further than admitting you invited him. It’s a normal thing for people to invite their friends to hang out!

But no matter how hard you try, your eyes don’t stop wandering to the bar, where Mingyu’s forgotten his quest to get another round of drinks and is talking to the most graceful and gorgeous woman alive.

Of course, Mingyu chose tonight of all nights to look like a prince coming to the rescue. A fitted black shirt that even with the lack of light inside the club managed to highlight his build. You almost fainted when he locked eyes with you across the room and smiled walking all the way to you.

And you’d caught that girl’s eyes glued to him when he first entered the club and greeted you all. As soon as he took one step away from you to walk to the bar, the girl unhooked herself from your group and followed him. 

“I wonder what’s taking so long with the drinks," You’re barely processing your words as they leave your mouth. As if you haven’t been policing the interaction since it started.

“Yeah, did he…” Jennie’s voice trails out before she can finish, following the line of sight you basically burned in the air after so many stares. A small smirk flashes through her before she mumbles, “Oh.”

Now there’s four more pairs of eyes witnessing why you’re making a fool out of yourself.

“Guess he found something else to do.” Still digging your own grave, you can’t stop making stupid comments.

Jennie and Nayeon exchange a look you’re too busy to catch, while you make sure your empty drink is still… empty. Yeah, the very interesting plastic cup in your hand. Definitely the most interesting sight you can be staring at. The cheap cocktail you thought could ease out the anxiety, and now that the little effect it had left your body, all you can do is laugh at yourself.

“Who is she anyway?” You didn’t even catch her name before she jumped at the chance to get Mingyu alone.

“We presented right after her.” Your friend’s voice barely reaches you over the loud music, and on top of that, you don’t really care to know much about her anyway.

“Right…”

It’s not a big deal. What else did you expect? That he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you like the last time you were in a club together? That you’d feel him all around you again as he felt you up with everyone watching? Stupid. You got too comfortable, took him for granted, and he got tired.

“Are you okay?” Nayeon materializes by your side, her hand on your arm steering your eyes back to her.

“He can do whatever he wants! I really don’t care.” Seeing how they can always tell what’s going on with you, of course they read through the lines.

The other two girls you came with look confused before they dare to speak up.

“We tried telling her that he was off limits," One says as the other confesses, “We thought you two were together.”

The girls’ confusion only fuels yours. You really didn’t want to think about it further before, just in case, but it gets you wondering. “W—why would you think that?”

“We just saw you talking after you presented," The blonde one giggles before her friend adds. “You guys looked cute!”

How did they get to that conclusion after the simplest interaction? Were you that obviously nervous? Was the prickling of your skin visible when he stood too close by your side? It’s become the norm for you two to act this way, the invisible skinship boundary long broken.

Deep down, you know there’s no reason to doubt him. You want to be weary of him, find one single flaw to use as an excuse to not like him, but it’s pointless. Mingyu’s never proven to be anything other than supportive. He’s been so patient with you, the deeper feelings for him developed almost on their own. No warning.

Even before breaking up with Jungkook, Mingyu was always present. Since that first day he found you crying, he made sure you had company, made sure you didn’t get too in your head and helped you have a good time. He was there for you before you even realized you needed it.

You took him for granted for too long, and now he has a pretty girl in front of him showing clear signs of attraction, all while you get scared texting him.

You've been so stupid, so blind to what you had in front of you, that now you're losing it, seeing it disappearing from your life with your own eyes.

The charged stares you've been sparing them must've made their way into Mingyu’s sixth sense, because he finally unglues his eyes from the girl and connects them with yours. You know you have no right to be jealous, you two are nothing, just two people with a very complicated relationship.

As if he knew everything going through your mind, Mingyu smirks your way. He fucking smirks. The twist of his lips cause a chain reaction from your hanging jaw down to your insides becoming a roller coaster. You barely hear your friends saying they’re going to the restroom, choosing to stay and challenge Mingyu.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

When he got your text inviting him out, Mingyu was sitting on the couch that had seen it all happen. Jungkook, just beside him, easily took a peek at the notification that lit up his friend's mood.

“Is that her?”

Even if they’ve resolved the bad blood between them, Mingyu couldn’t help to hide the reality of his feelings from Jungkook. “Yeah," He told him after replying to your text.

Mingyu could count with one hand the few times you had dared to text him first these past few weeks. Seeing your name pop up, inviting him out, was thrilling.

It's been no secret that every time Mingyu disappeared to go somewhere unannounced, he was going with you. Jungkook knew it, but it was time he encouraged it.

“Dude, if you like each other, I'm not looking to get in between," Jungkook assured with his eyes back to the tv in front of them.

“Isn’t it weird?” Mingyu tested the waters, checking if he was hallucinating the support.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird," Jungkook shrugged, as if it were that simple.

The situation is weird. And maybe it will always be weird.

Mingyu started making up this fantasy in his head, where, in the future, you’ve finally let him in and he can love you the way you deserve. One where you can look back at the past and laugh with that blinding toothy smile of yours, with all the hurt being just a distant memory. But before you two get to that point, Mingyu will make sure nothing gets in the way of your happiness ever again. And he foolishly hopes you find it with him.

“Is she okay?” Jungkook’s question took Mingyu out of his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking if I should apologize or not.”

“She’s fine,” at that moment, Mingyu realized that maybe his best friend is better at hiding how he feels than he thought, “but an apology wouldn’t hurt.”

Having long conversations was never their strong suit, so the topic ended there, with Jungkook deep in thought and Mingyu getting up to change clothes.

Something drove him to try and be more presentable for you. The last time you two went to a club together, he almost gave up everything right then and there. Now that there are no barriers between the two of you, he won’t hold back at your advances, he won’t freeze if you dance close to him. At least that was his initial goal.

When he arrived at the club, Mingyu had to pause as soon as he saw you across the room. The smile you showed your friend after something she said illuminated the whole room, leaving nothing else in front of his eyes but you.

He greeted all your friends as politely as he could without straying his eyes off you. His hand traveled itself onto the small of your back, keeping you intoxicatingly close to him as best he could. And he didn’t want to leave your side, but maybe breathing an air free of your perfume would help him think clearly, he thought.

Talking to one of the girls you were with, Mingyu partly feels bad for already forgetting her name. The overworked bartender’s taking too long to prepare all the drinks, and he has no other choice than to entertain the girl. 

Answering her questions gets harder and harder with the music blasting, and as she places her hand on his arm to get closer to him, Mingyu can feel the interaction being under someone’s scrutinizing eyes.

Is this all in his head? Are you really standing with your arms crossed and the cutest frown ever on your forehead, almost killing the girl in front of him with your stare? The corner of his mouth lifts autonomously at the thought of you not liking him flirting with another person.

He hasn’t seen this side of you, the jealous and slightly possessive one. And even if you’re nothing more than friends, he loves it. He loves the way you squint when you lock eyes, how you shrug when he doesn’t back down. It’s easy for him to excuse himself and walk towards you again.

At the sight of him, you turn your back on Mingyu, pretending to be dancing alone. So, he has no other choice but to stand behind you and ask in your ear. “Something on your mind?”

Your back tenses against his chest, but you don’t move away, allowing Mingyu to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you close. With your friends suddenly nowhere in sight, he interlocks your fingers while in his hold, helping you relax even if you’re still pretending to be mad.

“You took your time.” The initially suffocating sea of people now feels protective, working like a barrier between your bodies pressed tightly together and the outside world. “Having fun?”

“I am now," Mingyu’s lips graze the side of your face as they lit up in another smirk, growing goosebumps all across your body. “How about you?”

Somehow, being like this doesn’t feel weird. You’ve had Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you so many times now that they easily mold to your figure. There really is only one difference, one that none of you dare speak up but washes over your every interaction.

“I was thinking of going home already.” You look down at your hands tangled in one, fearing that Mingyu can notice at any time how butterflies erupt in your stomach at every word he purrs right in your ear. “Not much to do here.”

“I can take you," His choice of words halts your breath, but you remember.

Untangling Mingyu’s hands from yours, you turn around in his arms to face him, regretting instantly as soon as your eyes connect again.

“You should stay. You looked like you were having fun.” That makes Mingyu chuckle, and an embarrassed warmness bursts inside you at the sound.

“I didn’t think you were the jealous type, princess.” And you didn’t think he was the type to tease you in public, but life takes you to unthinkable roads sometimes.

You scoff as an excuse to take your eyes off him for a second. “Jealous, huh? You’re funny.”

In an intent to get away from his menacingly broad body, your hands take the unconscious decision to push his chest away. But you don’t have the true will to do it, or the strength. He’s too big, too muscly for you to move, and he traps your hands against him, against the sheerest shirt ever that lets you feel every muscle tense under your touch.

“I’d like to think I can make a girl laugh sometimes.” He’s all you can see, covering every spot in your vision with his unerasable teasing smirk.

“Yeah, I saw that.” At the roll of your eyes, there’s no denying that you’re jealous anymore. Do you really care if he knows anyway?

“Oh, you did? Controlling.”

“I’m not controlling! You can do whatever you want, I won’t get in your way.” If he wants to flirt with an emotionally available girl after the infinite amount of time he waited for you, you can’t stop him. You’ll take your feelings to the grave.

Something brews in Mingyu’s mind at your rebuttal. “You won’t?”

“No.” 

For the first time in forever, Mingyu willingly unclasps one of his hands from yours, “And if I do this?”

Mingyu’s fingers creep up your neck and get a hold of your chin, titling it up until you have no other choice but to look him in the eye. He waits for your answer, as if you’d ever say no. As soon as you nod, giving him the okay, another smirk is the only warning you get.

Your lips, meant to be pressed against his forever, part with a sigh as Mingyu's arms wrap around your waist. The world around you, with frantic music and people moving at lightspeed, fades to nothing in his embrace. You move along Mingyu’s soft lips naturally, letting your heart convey your feelings through the kiss.

The memory of that last kiss you dared give him all those days ago can’t compare to this one. There’s no hesitation this time, no guilt restraining you from following your true desire. Nothing outside your bubble really matters as your hands travel up his chest to keep his head in place.

His hair feels soft between your fingers as you push yourselves together closer and closer. You never want anything else in life, just kissing and kissing Mingyu until your lungs give out. It’s unfortunate that you can’t.

“Let me take you home," He gasps with your lips just millimeters away.

Your stomach twists and turns with anticipation. “Okay,” barely a whisper accompanies your nod, fearing the way your voice could come out if you said more.

With his hand in yours, walking the moonlit streets in swift steps and giggles, any worries you had slip away with the wind. The feeling of his lips linger on yours every second it passes, every breath you take, every step forward until you stop at an intersection and Mingyu pulls you into him again.

The walk blends between kisses and hand squeezes to check if you’re in a dream or not. You never want to back away from his hold ever again, but as your building materializes in front of you, you're forced to take your hand off the hem of his shirt.

The elevator’s wall hits your back as soon as the automatic doors let you in, barely giving you time to push your floor’s button before Mingyu’s over you again. His mouth takes yours with a hunger that grows every second you’re not inside your apartment. He’s losing control, succumbing to his desires the more you show your want for him.

By some way, your tangled bodies manage to reach your door, though Mingyu’s hands refusing to stop going over your hips and waist are the challenge to overcome. Your fingers tremble trying to turn the key the right way, your nervous system focusing on the lips kissing every inch of the side of your neck he can reach and his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your top.

As soon as you close the door behind you, the reality closes in on you. With Mingyu’s arms wrapping around your waist again, the bag you forgot you were holding dropping onto the floor with a thud, and the bright lights in your apartment making everything clear.

Mingyu notices your sudden hesitation and stands before you, worried eyes studying you, looking for any sign to tell him what's happening in your mind.

“I made you get in a fight with your best friend," Your reminder is like a dagger against the silence.

“Is that what's bothering you?” His eyes find yours and understand immediately. “We're fine,” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “he actually encouraged me to come tonight.”

Your eyes widen with hope, leaning into his touch when he doesn't retrieve his hand from the side of your face. “Did you guys—”

“We talked,” Mingyu's voice explains so softly, one wouldn't think he was just making you gasp with that same mouth on yours, “and I told him he should apologize to you.”

Standing in the middle of your entrance hallway, you feel stupid for even bringing that up. He wouldn't be here with you if he felt guilty. He wouldn't be cupping your face in his hands, making you look up to him to find the glimmer in his eyes outshining every light source in the room.

“And you’re sure about this?” What ‘this’ means, you’re not sure either.

“I've never been more sure about anything.” Your breath hitches at his answer, your body noticeably frozen as you look for a non-existent lie in his eyes. “Maybe we should take things slow, let you figure out what you want.”

Before he can back away from your personal space, you react. “No, no, I want this too. I want you.”

Those words coming out of your mouth combined with your hands gripping his shirt to keep him in place quickly make Mingyu regret his previous statement. You're so close, too close to him, saying you want him with your eyes dark and wide.

Mingyu’s hands stay on you, caressing the side of your face as if he was debating whether to give in and kiss you again or do the rational thing. Yours, instead, find the first button at the end of the all too well fitting shirt Mingyu’s wearing, and start unbuttoning it one by one.

“I should take you out on a real date first," Mingyu maintains with a sigh, but not stopping you in your quest.

“I personally think,” at his unmoving body, you take a step closer, with your hands against his chest not daring to sneak under the welcoming fabric, “we’re past that, don’t you think?”

For a second, Mingyu thinks you’ll be able to feel the rapid beating of his heart, stronger with each second your hands lay on his chest. Rationality is losing the fight against his desire.

“Just making sure this isn’t a rebound situation,” Mingyu blurts, even if he doesn’t really care about it for himself. He’d take whatever you give him.

“You aren’t a rebound. This isn’t a revenge plot.” You think for a second before you continue, “You saw me cry way too many times and were there for me at my weakest. You make me feel seen, wanted, and getting to know you has made my life better in ways I could’ve never imagined.”

Your words go through Mingyu's ears and right into his bloodstream, getting warmer and warmer the closer you get. His hands go down your body, encouraging you to move forward until your chests touch.

“I needed you even before I knew what I needed.” You can sense the tears beginning to build up, but you push through. He has to know. “I know what I want now, and it’s you.”

“If this is a dream, I never wanna wake up,” every word Mingyu says comes with a widening smile.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck with confidence, “I can assure you, it's not.”

As if you've been getting chased by your feelings all this time, putting it into words and letting it all out works, and your brain stops racing. You can finally breathe, think, see.

“So, was that a no about the date?” As always, Mingyu manages to make you chuckle again, and it reverberates all across both your bodies. Every shiver of his, you feel, with the minimal skin to skin contact against his barely uncovered chest and the tiniest top you found to put on.

“You can take me on a date another day. Now, I want something else.” You don't know where all this confidence is coming from, but seeing the shock in Mingyu's eyes, it only grows. “You okay with that?”

“I’ll give you anything you want.”

The space between your faces charges with electricity as you take in his words. An unconscious bite on your lower lip pulls his gaze down, egging him to close the space slowly. You almost don’t register his advance, focusing on the part of his lips that were just on yours minutes ago.

There’s nothing more to be said, no invisible walls to tear down, only you and him and the pull between you, pushing you closer until your breaths mix. After all the obstacles you overcame, and the bumps that lead you to where you are now, there’s no more time to waste.

When your heads meet again, your tingling lips mold against Mingyu’s for the thousandth time, worried about nothing and wanting it all. And he doesn’t hold back either. His hands on your waist venture up inside your top, feeling your back tense at his touch as the fabric crumples up, leaving more of you exposed to him.

You can’t hide your craving for him any longer. You follow his rhythm eagerly, making a mess of his hair between your fingers and pushing him further against you. Every touch of his makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your jaw and neck. His hands and lips everywhere.

“Might as well just take this off.” Mingyu’s lips print a smirk on the sensitive skin of your neck before pulling back. You get what he means immediately as he tugs on your top, taking  it off you as soon as you put your arms up.

His hands feel your chest up to his liking, getting to know the places that make you sigh into his mouth. Every touch of his fingers makes that spot light up like fire, and every sound you make encourages Mingyu more and more.

Your hands sneak under his opened shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest directly elicits a groan from Mingyu, making you shiver as you slip the fabric down his arms.

Your living room becomes a cliché mess of scattered clothing before you direct the both of you to your bedroom. You barely have time to drink in Mingyu’s body before you’re falling with your back on the mattress, chest to chest again, bare against one another, free of any fabric in between.

Mingyu slots between your legs effortlessly, a low moan coming from him as his hardening length grinds softly on the crevice between your limbs. His golden skin that was the star of your every dream, finally at your reach, soft and warm under the pads of your fingers.

“Gyu—” Words choke up on your throat as you feel his lips wrapping around one of your nipples.

“You're gorgeous,” His lips against your chest makes you halt your movements, mind focused solely on him, “so pretty, only for me.”

It's almost as if he was talking to himself, but you moan at every compliment, arching your back for more of him. And he loves it. Loves the way you react to the stream of thoughts that run around his brain every time he looks at you.

“Fuck!” The curse leaves you both in unison when Mingyu finds his digits against your core.

“I barely even touched you and you're already ready for me?” Mingyu feels your reaction to his words first hand as a wave of arousal hits you.

“Fuck you,” you gasp and he chuckles, kissing down your torso until he’s facing your core.

“I'll take care of you, don't worry, baby.” His breath fans at your wet folds, so close to where you want him but still teasing you with his fingers.

You’re about to fight back when you feel him teasing at your opening, his eyes entranced by how ready you are for him. All the anticipation, the tension between you from the past weeks, culminating at once at this very moment.

The slickness leaking out of you from all the kissing and groping makes it easy for him to set the pace. Mingyu’s fingers stretch your insides with expertise, as if he learned every spot of yours to touch to have you squirming.

The torturously slow thrusts of his fingers drive you crazy, curling and hitting exactly where you need them before he’s pulling back. You don’t hold your sounds back, your every reaction letting Mingyu know how good he makes you feel.

“That’s it, baby,” His low voice sets fire to the blood rushing through your veins, and your walls clamp harder around his fingers.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the sheets below you, and Mingyu’s other hand has to hold your thighs apart so you don’t close them around his head.

“Mingyu—shit!” His lips leave a trail of breathy kisses on your inner thigh, trying to help you relax and take him in, but ultimately turning you on further. “Gyu, wait.”

“I love that you’re calling me that.” He listens and stops thrusting, leaving his fingers to fully fit inside you.

“I need you.” You’re not embarrassed to say what you want. Not with him.

“But you have me?” He tries to tease, but you’re ahead of him already and immediately correct yourself.

“Inside.” His fingers adjust themselves inside you, almost making you forget what you were asking for. “I need you to fuck me.”

Mingyu chuckles at your neediness, but you know he wants it just as bad. His rock hard length draws your attention as he stands up and retrieves his wet digits from you, leaking and ready to split you in half.

There’s a second of hesitation as he looks at you splayed on the bed, as ready for him as he is for you. You recognize the train of thought going through him and stretch your arm to open the drawer below your nightstand, where you keep condoms just in case.

It’s sinful, the sight of Mingyu rolling down the condom as his eyes rake up and down your body. When he kneels on the mattress, fitting like a glove between your legs, it takes another kiss of his on each of your spent legs for you to realize that what’s happening is real.

Caged between both of his arms, his hands holding his weight on both sides of your head, your legs wrap around his waist and push him inside you, at last.

His length fits inside you, opening up your walls to mold to his shape as you both moan.

Your hips collide as he hits your deepest parts. “Being inside you is gonna kill me.” You can feel the twitching of his cock deep inside you. He paused to let you get used to his size, but the last thing you want to do is wait.

“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t move.”

You’ve learned teasing him works wonders, and as soon as those words leave your lips, he’s complying with what you ask of him. “Whatever my princess wants.”

Whatever thoughts you had, they fade at the drag of his length deliciously making you his with each thrust. Deep and slow, he lets you feel everything he has to give before almost pulling out.

The skin of his back becomes the victim of your scratches, your nails digging into his tense muscles with every grind of his hips. But no matter what you do, how you touch him, how loudly you moan, his pace remains at the same torturing speed.

“Relax, baby.” A hand caresses the side of your face, and you realize you’d shut your eyes closed at the feeling of him pushing inside you.

Mingyu lowers his head, flushing your chests together again as he kisses you softly, matching the pace of his thrusts with his tongue tangling with yours. He drinks every sound you make, as they are only for him, and lowers his hand down your torso until it meets your connected cores.

Your sensitive clit feels like fire under the touch of his fingers, circling around it to help you ease up the tension. “That’s it, baby, taking me so well.”

Everywhere he reaches becomes your new favorite place for him to touch. From your lips, down to your cunt, and all the way inside you, everywhere now has his name written. You’re his.

The pulsing of your walls around him doesn’t cease, becoming quicker and harder the more he continues with the slow pace. Your insides wait for every intoxicating thrust as if starved of him, craving everything he gives you and more.

His lips move on yours, parted and unable to work, mumbling praise you don’t get to hear as every one of your senses focuses on the fire inside you threatening to burst. Mingyu’s hips falter, having trouble thrusting inside you as you tighten impossibly tighter around him.

Your vision turns white as your orgasm explodes without so much as a warning. Your legs tremble around Mingyu’s pistoning hips, thrusting endlessly searching for his release.

Mingyu’s broad body falls limp on you as his length twitches, coming inside the condom with a groan while your walls hug him tight.

You lay under him happily, a smile on your face as you stare at the ceiling. He feels warm all around you, a feeling you could get used to. Mingyu can’t resist it and kisses you again. He’ll take every opportunity he can get to feel your lips on his.

“What's on your mind?” He asks, eyes locking in to yours as he slips out from you before attacking your lips again.

You both smile in the kiss before he stands up to discard the used condom and put his boxers back on. “Just thinking where you can take me on our date.”

He turns around with a glowing smile. “You’re thinking about that already?”

The way he lays down on your bed with you, naturally wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to him, feels like a dream come true.

“Of course, baby, I always think ahead.” You note the way he blushes when you use that nickname on him and snuggle against him.

Listening to Mingyu’s steady breathing and heartbeat under your ear, drifting to sleep has never been easier. 

The smell of freshly grounded coffee fills the air around the café Mingyu picked. A cozy new place, lighted with yellowy light bulbs and with a space designated to read books you can borrow from the shelves covering the walls. It opened a few weeks ago in his neighborhood and he’s been insisting you try it out together since.

You’ve been on countless dates with him already, but you still feel nervous having him sit by your side in the booth. Still get embarrassed when he asks for a big smoothie with two straws for you both.

You don’t see a future where you don’t get nervous around him, but he’s always there. A future without him wouldn’t be life at all. And the best thing is, Mingyu feels the same way.

“Are you sure they’re coming?” You ask as your eyes drift to the glass door for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

“I promise they are!” Minguy takes your jaw in his fingers to make you look at him. “Remember to not say anything about the apartment. He'll as her when he's ready”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, feigning cluelessness, and Mingyu chuckles before giving you a peck.

Detaching your lips is always the hardest chore. But after a few awkward instances where you let your kisses deepen in public, you both decided to control yourselves, even in a secluded booth like the one you’re currently in.

Mingyu’s eyes light up watching the street from the window you’re sitting against, and you turn around to see the people you’ve been waiting for. 

Jungkook and Cathlyn walk inside the store holding hands and with matching smiles on their faces as they greet you. How Mingyu convinced them to go out on a double date with you still astonishes you, but you’re glad everything that happened could finally be put behind you.

It was hard at first, even after Jungkook apologized to you, you didn’t dare go inside their apartment for months until Mingyu moved in with you a few weeks ago.

As soon as they sit in front of you, the plan you’ve been scheming starts. Your eyes lock with Mingyu’s and he instantly realizes what you're about to do, but not even his hand squeezing your thigh under the table can stop you. “So, Jungkook, what are you going to do now that you live in the apartment alone?”

note: it's finally here!!!

thank you all for being so excited this past month and for reading this monster of a fic i somehow came up with.

if you reached the end, just know that i love you, and i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

[solecize]

　⠀　⋆ ˚｡⋆ 　RUMOURS ⠀────⠀(and what they can do for you) 　 ° .

everyone in the industry knows about your messy on-and-off relationship with jungkook, constantly crawling back to one another in a cycle of breakups, silence, and an indestructible connection that nobody else understands. the two of you have gone on "break" and gone no contact for months now, even though it never works. when you're seen at the same party, rumours fly that you and jungkook are back together once again - only, neither of you deny the speculation. the two of you end up disappearing into a private booth for the inevitable reunion, both physically and emotionally tangled up in something that never truly ends.

⋆.˚⠀⠀pairing: idol!jk x idol!reader ⋆.˚⠀⠀content/warnings: pwp (smut with a little plot) (unprotected sex, rough sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, public sex, squirting), established on-and-off relationship, alcohol, dry humping, size kink, grinding on the dancefloor, toxic/possessive relationship vibes, 6.8k words ⋆.˚⠀⠀notes: hi y'all this is just a little one shot i wrote because i had writer's block lol if you squint this is 10000% the through the mist couple (ik ttm crumbs in 2026 is wild), but this still a standalone you don't need to know anything about that fic to have any context. enjoy!!!

jeon jungkook is not a man of a great temper, the kind that explodes all at once in a dazzling display of fireworks. it doesn’t crackle and pop into an anger that bursts in front of your face. his anger simmers and it burns the longer it stirs, whilst enveloping the atmosphere in a dangerous humidity that chokes. it isn’t obvious to the untrained eye - especially amidst the crowded party and flashing lights - but to you, it’s crystal clear.

if you hadn’t broken up just months ago, you wouldn’t need to deny the way his intensity leaves you squeezing your thighs together.

“i’ll be right back,” you murmur to nayoung, who you were previously chatting with at the bar.

there’s little thought behind your actions, but a beating irritation that climbs into your veins when you see the girl cage him in. nobody should stand that close to him. not when you’re several feet away.

nayoung gives you a knowing look when you snatch your drink off the counter - absolutely no hesitation to leave.

she’s been your closest friend for years and so, she’s watched the way you’ve been forever tangled with jeon jungkook with arguably no end in sight. she knows exactly where you’re going and even worse, she knows that there’s no stopping you.

against your better judgment, you push your way through the crowd. the nightclub is closed down for the entire night for jackson’s private event and it’s practically crawling with the who’s who of the korean entertainment industry. it’s a smaller venue and the walls are prone to closing in on you if you aren’t familiar with navigating through the mass. you, however, have been here many times - often with the man in your vision. you’re used to the artificially flavoured clouds that stick to your clothes and the multicoloured lasers hazing your vision.

a few people get out of your way when they see the destination of your walk charged with intention because everyone knows who you’re about to speak to.

they know not to get in your way when it comes to him.

because everyone in the room knows what the two of you are.

the alcohol moves your limbs for you, but you were always going to somehow end up at his side. that’s just how it goes. the beat of the speakers echo each of your careful steps, as you approach with straightened shoulders and an air of confidence that only years being with him have afforded you.

he looks good. he always does, but something about the irritated look in his eye paint such a sexy aura of fierceness. his fist is clenched around his whiskey on the rocks and you watch the way his chest rises with each heavy breath, as the girl in front of him tries to side step into his personal space for the second time. every inhale, you can see the way his muscles tighten against the buttons of his shirt and you can imagine the hard planes underneath your palms. it’s not just the way his black silk shirt is rolled up his forearms and the way his slacks accentuate his muscular thighs.

jungkook’s eyes meet yours like he was looking for them, even though he has no clue that you’re even here. it’s a natural draw, an instinct buried underneath his skin to find you.

the bass booms in your chest, almost like a warning with the way it grows stronger with each step towards him. lights flicker and shine, but your line of sight doesn’t falter. you know exactly where you’re going and nothing will stand in your way. perfume, sweat and smoke curl around you and to your flesh, leaving you with a scrunched up nose.

the girl in front of him still hasn’t gotten the hint. she’s pretty - all legs and fluttering eyelashes. maybe jungkook would go for her in another circumstance, but he’s already nearing his limit with her persistence and with you noticeably approaching, she doesn’t stand a chance.

jungkook says your name, sweet on his tongue, and she whips around to see you, eyes wide.

“you’re supposed to be on tour.”

it’s not like you’re trying to keep tabs on him - you’ve actually been trying your best to push him out of your brain space since your last argument - but all you know is that he’s definitely supposed to be out of the country. you say these words like an accusation, even though jungkook technically owes you nothing.

you aren’t together.

but, the way jungkook holds your stare, it’s as if two puzzle pieces have clicked together like they were always meant to be one.

his lips twitch, as if a smirk dares to turn at the corner, but he fights it. “we have a four day break. our next concert is in osaka.”

he doesn’t explain himself as if he’s caught red handed doing something he shouldn’t be, but it’s a slow drawl that is comfortable. like he’s been waiting to see your pursed lips and clenched jaw.

jungkook’s eyes crawl along your frame from head to toe, from your pretty golden heels to the little black dress that dips just low enough for your cleavage to peak out and your newly dyed blonde hair. you protested against it when you company revealed their plans for your comeback hair, but he seems to be unable to stop staring at it.

he takes his time, too, and heat practically radiates off his gaze. you feel the linger of his appetite warming your skin. his eyes don’t leave yours once. it’s a reunion that feels heavy. not in an anxiety-inducing, breath holding way, but the kind that is careful. too careful, waiting on something to snap any moment now.

the conversation is already charged from the first word - like the air is thick enough to be molasses. the girl’s hand is somehow still on jungkook’s shoulder, but she retracts it quickly when you look at her instead of answering jungkook. it’s almost as if she shrivels down in size from the weight of your glare.

“scram.”

and she does. the girl leaves nearly instantly at your one word, even abandoning her drink in the wake.

jungkook’s shoulders visibly relax and he leans back on the wall, arms folded across his chest when he does so. you can tell that he’s pleased with your quick attitude, even maybe amused with it.

he’s still staring at you and it burns into your flesh. the half smirk is still pressed on his lips. he’s always liked it when you showed a bit of a possessive side, especially when you aren’t supposed to be together right now.

in a room so loud - booming with music and laughter - there’s just silence between the two of you.

you haven’t seen him in almost two months. it’s the longest that you’ve been on a “break” - or whatever this is. you can tell that neither of you are done with each other, not with the way your fingers itch to grab him by the shirt or the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips at the sight of you.

the two of you are never really done.

you don’t know if it’s possible for you and jungkook to ever be done.

jungkook curls a finger towards you, slow and mocking. you send him a glare and he doesn’t move. so, you step towards him, close enough to actually have a conversation amidst the noise of the nightclub, and his scent instantly fills your sense. you smell the intoxicating musk of his cologne, the cigarettes that he smoked earlier, and the whiskey on his breath.

there’s static between your bodies, a buzz that nearly has you falling.

he finally speaks. “didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” he says gruffly, finally letting that smirk come through.

without a doubt, jungkook is lying. you always show up for this party every year. so does he. at least you walked in here with the weight of knowing who you would be running into.

you point a manicured finger at his chest, dragging it down the fabric and feel his breath hitch, even just for a second.

“yes, you did,” you accuse, not backing down against the intensity of his eyes. you look up at him with a certain tense defiance.

you don’t notice it right away, but both you and jungkook begin in lean in towards each other. it’s unconscious and feels right. you hate that.

“why’d you come over here?” jungkook asks, voice low.

he’s inches away from you now. you think you could crumble if it weren’t for the liquor in your system.

you roll your eyes and stick your thumb in the direction of where that girl scurried off to. “was just trying to save your ass. you blow a fuse and it’s fuel for miss thing over there to a submit a blind item about you being a dick.”

jungkook snorts, obviously not believing a word. his company protected him well and he never had anything to worry about. you of all people know this, from the amount of dispatch articles attached to his name and yours that have gone unpublished. he’s a lot of things, but he’s always shielded you from that stuff in your world.

his eyes bear into yours, trying to coax any further argument from you and when you remain silent, he places a hand on your hip. it’s hot and burns through the fabric of your flimsy dress.

of course, you don’t move.

he comes even closer, if that’s possible, and his breath tickles your ear. “it’s cute.”

“the fuck is cute?”

“the way you act like you don’t care,” jungkook answers simply and he doesn’t miss the way your muscles stiffen at his actions.

it feels like the entire room is trying to not stare at the two of you in the corner of the dancefloor. you should be there with your friends, drinking and laughing with them. instead, you’ve willingly crossed the venue with fire in your tracks just to go up to your. . .ex? you don’t think you can call jungkook that. it’s complicated and it seems like it will always be.

they all know. your relationship is one of the best kept secrets in the industry and maybe that’s why that girl didn’t hesitate to get the hell out of there as soon as she saw the look on your face. in a way, it’s a wash of relief and you hate admitting that.

you hate admitting that you, in fact, want everyone to know.

you try your best to hold your glare, but it’s difficult. jungkook chuckles and pulls away, but his hand remains on your hip. you watch him talk a long sip from his drink, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs and the way his eyes never leave yours.

“you look good.” jungkook speaks again and his statement runs shivers down your spine because he means it. the way he can’t stop looking at you, touching you. he feels it, too - arguments be damned. “been busy, huh?”

“something like that,” you answer and you keep it short. you have been busy. part of the reason why you think you’ve been so successful at keeping jungkook away isn’t just the fact that’s been out of the country, but the way your company is working you to the bone for the preparation of your new album.

despite your reply, jungkook is visibly distracted. it’s like he’s not even listening to you. his other hand finds your hip as well and he tugs you towards him.

you nearly stumble, steadying yourself with a hand on his chest. his chuckle is dark when you find yourself in a compromising situation, pressed up so closely against him.

“thanks, baby."

it’s unclear if he’s thanking you for warding that girl from earlier away or if he’s thanking you for being the one to cross the invisible line first.

someone calls your name from the other side of the bar, one of your friends. you both curse and thank the air, unsure of what would happen next if you two stayed like that.

then, like nothing, he lets go. you do the same, surprised at how you avoid stumbling when you step back.

the interaction not only leaves you dazed, but angry. to make matters worse, everywhere you go for the rest of the night, everyone asks you about jungkook. it’s hard not to notice when it’s the two of you. it seems like those around you are convinced that you’ve gotten back together - yet, neither of you correct them.

it doesn’t take long for news to spread. someone spoke to someone who saw you shooing that girl away from jungkook. someone else noticed the two of you conversing in the moments that followed. even with the drinks that enter your system, you’re hyper aware of the looks you’re being given. the feeling crawls underneath your skin, but for some reason, you’re not bothered.

you may even thrive on it.

closer to the second hour of the party, you’re on the dancefloor with your sunglasses perched on your nose. even with the dimmed surroundings, you keep them on and you notice the double takes quickly. your friends dance around you and you move your body to the beat of the music, but you’re focused on one thing. hiding behind the shades allows you to watch jungkook on the other side of the nightclub.

he’s with eunwoo and yugyeom at the bar, head tilted back as he laughs at something the boys joke about.

“so, you guys are back together.”

jungkook doesn’t even flinch at the question. his two friends are staring at him with puzzled expressions, as he waves the bartender over for another round.

“oh, are we?” jungkook lazily chuckles, not offering anything more than that.

the worst part is that his friends can’t even tell what the truth is. keeping up with his relationship with you is like whiplash. jungkook doesn’t play about you either, so his boys know not to prod or comment too much into it.

even when you guys aren’t “together,” jungkook makes it known that nobody gets to speak about you a certain way.

he even likes it a little, knowing that everyone is talking about the two of you. everyone is assuming that you’re back together and jungkook, being the possessive bastard he is, doesn’t correct them once.

the nightclub is hot and full of life, growing only busier as the hours go on. amidst a daze of bright strobes and pulsating walls. when jungkook looks up, he spots you instantly on the dancefloor. it’s always been a bit of an uncanny talent of his, the way he’s able to find you in a crowded room instantly. you have your sunglasses on, sipping on a drink, and even then, he just knows that you’re staring at him.

fuck, you look good.

he watches you wrap your pretty lips around your straw, swaying to the music in that sinfully tight dress. the sight rallies something in his chest, remembering the last time he was able to taste you. he can’t even remember what that last argument was even about, not when you’re sitting there looking like an angel. jungkook especially loves the bored demeanour you put on, the way you don’t spare anyone a glance.

you turn your head all of a sudden and his suspicions are confirmed - you were just watching him. a grin spreads across jungkook’s face, as he quickly downs the next shot and claps his friends on the back.

“i’ll be back,” jungkook suddenly announces, not even looking back. “. . . or not.”

he doesn’t hear much of what they say, only some whoops that indicate that they know exactly where he’s going. he can’t hold back much longer.

you know he’s there before he even has to announce himself.

your friends’ movements falter for just a split second, but enough for you to notice. before you can say anything, you feel a presence looming behind you and a whiff of jungkook’s cologne. without thinking, you back into his body and his hands fly to your waist.

at this point, your heart is beating like an army marching.

“we’re gonna go back for some more drinks,” nayoung suddenly yells over the music, offering to take your glass.

you hand it over, along with your sunglasses, and like the wind, they’re gone.

when the girls leave, jungkook pulls you even closer to his chest amidst the frantic atmosphere of the club. the crowd even tightens around the two of you, providing you little breathing room. you’re pressed up all the way against him and your arm snakes up, as you place your hand around the back of jungkook’s head.

it’s too natural, the way you two wordlessly begin swaying with one another and melting into one. nothing needed to be said at all.

he leans close to your ear, breath tickling in a low voice.

“did i wait too long to come over this time?” jungkook asks, almost mockingly. like he knows that the two of you were going to end up like this, entwined as one, no matter how the night was going to go.

you swallow hard, your usual confidence trembling for the first time under the sensual lax in his voice.

“no clue what you’re talking about,” you reply back, even though you both know better.

his arms are so strong around your body, now circling around your torso. with a gasp, you unconsciously push your ass against him, too familiar with this position. jungkook groans, the vibration rumbling in his chest when he feels you press into him. the two of you continue to grind against one another to the thrumming beat of the music, slow and unhurried.

you dance against one another like you’re the only ones in the room, getting lost in the touch of your bodies and the heat radiating off of it. jungkook grips your hips tigher, guiding the way your ass moves in against his already half hard dick. your body is under some sort of spell, raking your nails against jungkook’s skin lightly - just enough to make him feel it, but not leave marks.

yet.

he spins you around and you bite back another undignified sound, as you steady yourself by grabbing his muscular arms. when you look up through your eyelashes, lids heavy, his eyes are darkened and you know that look all too well.

“this isn’t right,” you mutter, as if you’re doing anything to stop him.

he chuckles without regret, leaning into your ear once again. you take a sharp inhale of air when his teeth graze the outer shell, like he’s personally testing you.

“when has that ever stopped us?”

jungkook’s hands slide down, shamelessly pulling you even closer by the ass. you obey without any objection, now closer than ever against his body.

the two of you aren’t supposed to be doing this. the last time you saw each other, you screamed at one another and you told jungkook you never wanted to see him again.

but, of course, that’s what happened the last time, too. and the time before that. only to end up crawling right back to each other, seeking the same familiar passion and heat.

you and jungkook have always belonged to one another. maybe you always will.

“you know where you belong,” you hum and he doesn’t argue once. he even groans at your words.

jungkook replies without hesitation. “nobody fucking does it like you, sweetheart.” his voice is rough, as you tangle your fingers in his hair.

you can feel stares burning into your skin, but none of that matters.

the song changes to a sensual r&b track, only egging jungkook on further. your movements are leisured - despite your initial words, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. you both match the slow drum of the song, as you squeeze your eyes shut and let yourself feel nothing but his hands on you. the air in the room has somehow gotten blistering, like a fever has fallen on you and you’re all but dissolving into jungkook’s burning hunger. each small movement to the music is too in sync, like you’re one.

your head tilts back slightly and jungkook takes the opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck. you whine, feeling the way he teases you - nipping at the sweat-slicked flesh and running a filthy line up to your jaw with his tongue.

you grab a fistful of his shirt, trying to steady your breath. instead, you end up accidentally pressing your tits into his chest and jungkook growls into your skin. his grip on your hips have become steel.

he leans back into your ear with a demand more than a question. “i think that’s enough, don’t you.” jungkook rasps out and you can tell that he’s also struggling.

hearing the pure need in his voice boosts your ego and you’re not afraid to admit it. you smirk, pulling back - only to grab jungkook by the chin and bring him just inches away from your lips. he doesn’t lurch forward, completely under your control. he won’t move unless you give him permission, eyes pleading for your word.

it’s almost pathetic. he towers over you, holding your body like a lifeline, and he’s still waiting for your approval.

you smirk wider. “beg.” is all you say and all you have to say. jungkook folds near instantly when you use that tone on him.

“please, baby.”

as you suspected, that’s all it takes.

there aren’t too many people lounging around in the semi-private booth and all of his friends clear out when jungkook barks at them to go dance or something. the plush, red velvet couches hide behind silk drapes, usually pulled partially closed for some privacy. he drags you to the second floor of the club where these booths are, hand gripped tight around your wrist when he does so. you’ve always liked it when jungkook takes the lead like this, almost providing no room for you to quip your usual sarcastic remarks - not when he has that look in his eye.

“you guys can come back later,” jungkook gruffly says, leaving no room for argument.

they aren’t even surprised when they notice you standing behind jungkook, as he still holds onto you. maybe it’s true - everyone tonight spread the news of seeing you and jungkook near one another and began telling anyone who will listen that you’re back together.

you even give a little lazy wave as they leave, amusing his friends.

when it’s just the two of you now, jungkook yanks you into the confines of the booth. he tugs at the curtains, causing them to fly close and making sure that the message is clear: the two of you are not to be bothered.

you make yourself comfortable when he does so, crossing your leg over the other. there’s so many bottles laid out in the table before you and when you grab a glass and the azul, jungkook suddenly stops you by saying your name.

“nah,” he says, sauntering over to you.

you raise an eyebrow, as he takes the tequila from you. then, he grabs your jaw softly and you know what he wants you to do.

“open up, baby.”

with a smouldering gaze, jungkook watches you open your mouth wide - those glossy lips looking so plush and soft. you don’t break eye contact with jungkook either, waiting like a good girl for his next move.

you tilt your head back and he pours the liquor straight into your mouth. you swallow it all, eyes still fixed on him when you do so. the alcohol burns down your throat and the warmth spreads throughout your body, igniting something in your stomach. it lingers in your cheeks and your eyelashes flutter when he stops.

a drop of tequila is missed - maybe even deliberately on his part - trailing down your chin and to your neck.

jungkook doesn’t hesitate. he sits down on the couch next to you and heaves you onto his lap, straddling him. your dress has ridden up, the lace of your black panties exposed to the cool air and he squeezes the flesh just underneath it. you moan at the sudden movement, even louder when he sucks at the column of your throat and licks at the tequila sticking to your skin.

“fuck, i missed this.” the words fall out of your mouth before either you or your pride could stop yourself.

he makes his way up with his hot tongue, sucking lightly into the flesh and tasting the alcohol combined with the saltiness of your skin. your legs, now perched on either side of his thighs, tremble from the sensation. his clothed erection is more prominent now that your core hovers just above the tent, until you finally lower yourself. when your bodies connect, you both let out a groan.

“been waiting to touch you again for so long,” he admits, teeth gritted together.

jungkook holds your smaller frame against his strong body and he’s always loved the way he completely envelopes you. his thick thighs that you ride until you’re seeing stars, his huge hands wrapped around your throat, the way his arm completely cradles you in a headlock when he fucks you from behind.

“want you to fuck me until i forget my own name -”

at this point, he can’t hold back any longer.

jungkook withdraws his mouth only to press it against yours in a bruising kiss. your lips connect and the crackling sensation leaves you more lightheaded than the liquor did - it’s sloppy, angry, and almost feels like a fight. each time jungkook sucks on your tongue, you reward him with a roll of your hips against his cock.

it’s a messy kiss, a disgusting one. you run your tongue over his lip ring and teasingly bring it in between your teeth, tugging slightly. when you do that, a string of saliva connects your lips with his and you both moan at the sight, until he captures your lips all over again.

by the time you pull away again, your lips are swollen and your gloss is all over jungkook’s reddened mouth. both of your mouths just ghost over each other, the shared air dizzying and tense as you’re so close, yet not touching.

“ - gonna fuck you until you only know my name,” jungkook pants, as your hand fly to unbutton his shirt.

you make quick work of it, as he hikes your dress up even further. a harsh slap falls on your ass and you jerk up slightly with a moan, only worsening the damp spot in your panties. when you straighten up, jungkook attaches his lips to the valley of your breasts, tugging the material of your dress down when he does so.

“god, you’re an angel,” he growls against your skin. you’re too fucking beautiful and he never fails to fall under your spell, like some sort of witchcraft. you hold a certain power over him and you both know it, the way jungkook has always been utterly mesmerized by you.

your tits fall out of the top and he finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the bud. he’s obsessed with them, the other one is cupped by his hands, pinching the sensitive area until you’re left writhing in his lap.

“koo - god, suck hard like that again -” you squeak, back arching into his touch.

he grazes his teeth around the bud, causing you to squirm even more, and he has to release your tit with an obscene pop. the smear of his saliva sticks to your puffy skin.

“- fuck, quit moving like that,” jungkook shakily warns, suddenly clutching your hips and stopping you from moving. “gonna make me cum in my pants, swear to god.”

you grin wickedly, but your triumph doesn’t last long. jungkook brings two of his fingers into his mouth and widens his thighs so that your legs open up for him. at this point, your dress is bunched up all the way to your waist and your stockings have ripped.

“p-please,” you whisper, the desire unwavering in your pleading. all of your walls crumble when he has you in this position, as you remember to finish unbuttoning his shirt.

you pull away at his dress shirt, exposing his bare chest. the sight leaves you clenching around nothing - the way the bass of the speakers still vibrate on the walls and the chatter of the party guests drift into the semi-private booth. you’re only barely separated away from the rest of the club, that flimsy curtain doing little when you’re spread out nice and pretty for jungkook on this couch.

“god, that’s my slut,” he croons, his fingers now grazing the sopping fabric over your folds. “looking like such a mess - you’re gonna let me fuck you here, when anyone can walk in?”

he’s always known how to set you off. he looks at you like he knows it, too - an searing frenzy at the surface.

“i need it - ah - always needed it,” you gasp aloud, trying to grind your pussy into his hand.

“bet you’d let me fuck you anywhere,” he says darkly and you can’t even disagree.

jungkook clenches his jaw, hard. he could devour this sight. you do look like a mess. your dress is barely on anymore, just some fabric around your waist when your entire ass is out and he lazily draws circles on your exposed nipples. you’re holding onto him for dear life, but jungkook is no better.

his chest rises with uneven breaths, his dress shirt open all the way to reveal his sculpted muscles and the trace of his abs. his cock strains painfully against his pants and although his strong thighs balance your body on top of him, he’s a second away from losing control.

which, he does.

you both hear the tear of the fabric when jungkook roughly rips your panties off of you - just the way you like it. he’s always had this habit and kisses you on the forehead after it’s all said and done, promising to buy you five new pairs. he does it without warning and without breaking eye contact, slipping it into his damn pocket when he’s done.

“oh my god,” you whimpers, finally feeling him.

he drags two fingers past your walls, just easing them in to see how ready you are. a smirk appears on his lips when he feels how soaked you are.

jungkook licks his lips. “that’s what i fuckin’ thought,” he breathes, feeling your heat. “so tight - you sure you want my cock?”

you don’t answer with words, especially not with the way he’s moving so damn slowly. you try to sink deeper down onto his fingers, but jungkook makes sure to pull a little bit away. so, instead, you begin unbuckling his belt.

he doesn’t protest and shifts you off his lap, just enough to pull down both his pants and briefs. his thick cock springs free, slapping the underside of his exposed stomach. a bead of precum is visible on his angry, red tip and you wrap your pretty hand around the length. you only get a few strokes in, about to lean down, before jungkook suddenly stops you.

“want you now,” he grunts, placing you back on his lap. “i’ll get that pretty little mouth next time.”

next time. you don’t even protest because even though this is supposed to be a “break,” you both know that it’s about to end. neither of you can resist the mangetism that’s brought you together. this always happens and usually ends like this - with jungkook fucking your brains out, no matter where you are.

you sigh at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your pussy, just on the outside. you smear your slick arousal all over, teasing slightly.

jungkook isn’t impressed. he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging hard enough for you to hiss and for tears to appear at your eyes. the worst part is that he feels you clenching on the length of his cock when he does so.

“what did i say?”

“you want me now,” you breathe heavily, biting your swollen lip.

he hums in approval, especially when you finally line yourself up with the tip of his cock.

“this what you wanted?” you ask, eyes open and he can see that there’s nothing but sinful desire swirling in them. you’re a goner for him and he’s gone for you, too.

jungkook nods wordlessly and you finally sink down onto his throbbing cock, inch by inch. he gasps at the feeling of your tight walls, swallowing him whole.

“fuck,” he mutters. “two. fucking. months -”

and it’s two months too long. neither of you could even defend such time apart, not when jungkook is so close to burying himself to the hilt. your walls flutter around his thickness and the stretch leaves your legs trembling.

“- too long,” you whimper, finally taking his cock all the way.

the both of you gasp at the same time, when jungkook bottoms out. you have to still for a moment and jungkook knows the drill, letting you get comfortable first.

then, you move.

you move slowly at first, your breasts bouncing with each careful motion. jungkook grinds his teeth together, as one hand find your waist again and help you guide your movements. the other moves to your clit, thumb lazily rubbing circles into it and you moan jungkook’s name when he does so, feeling the way you loosen with each wave of arousal it sends to your bloodstreams.

“nobody makes me feel this good,” you breathe huskily into his ear as you bounce on his cock, setting a rhythm.

“yeah?” jungkook grunts, the words taking over his body as he snaps his hips up harshly.

you cry out, letting jungkook fuck into you like that. he takes control, gripping you tight as he slams his cock into your pussy. you hold onto his shoulder, looking down to watch the way his thickness disappears into your wet heat.

“y-yeah, you’re so deep -” you squeak raggedly, his cock making you feel so full. “filling me up, oh god.”

“how the hell are you this wet and still so tight -” jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed as he loses himself in the sweet slick of your cunt. “- messy girl.”

he knows just how to drive into you, moving your legs and angling them just right until he slams into the spot he’s looking for. he doesn’t give a damn that they’re just inside a booth, on some couches that don’t belong to you. you mewl as his cock finds your g-spot, as you uncontrollably gush all over. the wetness coats his pants that aren’t even fully off, the velvet of the couch, and on your own legs.

“more, oh, you make me feel so good,” you choke on your own moans, tears prickling at your eyes again.

feeling a knot in your stomach form, you dig your nails into his chest, surely hard enough to leave crescent moon shaped imprints into his skin, but it only spurs jungkook on.

“yeah?” he breathes out. “bet you tried to move on with some losers that couldn’t fuck you like this.”

“g-god, they weren’t even close to you,” you admit heatedly, a shiver running up your spine.

it’s not a secret that either of you go and try to find new people when you’re on these “breaks,” but it’s clear that none of that ever matters. not when you end up bouncing on jungkook’s cock one way or another.

your confession makes jungkook pound into you harder and you’re so close now. he grabs you by the hair again, pulling you in for a searing kiss. you only let go when you breathlessly gasp into his lips after you feel his thumb circling your clit again.

he suddenly lifts you off his lap and you’re about to whine at the loss of his cock stuffing you full, until he bends you over so that your hands and knees are on the couch. you arch your back perfectly, ass wiggling in the air as he slams into you again in one fluid motion.

“jungkook - koo, i need you to -”

“- i know, baby,” he coos, reading your mind and wrapping his other hand around your throat. “take it like a good girl.”

you moan loud, not caring if people walking past the booth can clearly make out what the two of you are doing. the new angle is even deeper and you’re so damn close. he harsly lands a slap on your ass, gritting his teeth when the fat of it jiggles.

the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills your ears, as he continues muttering filthy things into your ear.

“every girl i fucked,” jungkook is panting as he also feels his release near. “i always imagined it was you underneath me.”

shit.

you’re babbling jungkook’s name now, completely drunk on his cock, and teetering over the edge.

he continues, voice full of nothing but lust. “couldn’t even cum unless i imagined it was these perfect tits -” jungkook pinches one of your nipples. “ - that it was your tight little body bent over, that it was your pretty mouth i was fucking - god, you’re mine.”

with those last words, you see fucking stars. your climax washes over you like a tidal wave, completely shattering your vision. you cum with a shout, nearly collapsing, but jungkook holds your body up as he pounds into you. your eyes are screwed shut as you continue sputtering jungkook’s name, your legs going weak, but you still meet his pace.

“ - yeah, keep throwing that ass back like that, i’m gonna -” he trembles, his rhythm turning frantic and uneven.

“please, i need you to fill me up so bad, i need it, i need it -” your begging words are filthy and you’re completely dazed, your walls still clenching and fluttering around jungkook.

he can’t last long. his hand moves from your throat to your hair, roughly tugging you backwards until you turn your head for a messy kiss, muffling jungkook’s cry as he spills deep into you with one last sharp thrust.

you feel the warm release fucked deep inside you, as you milk him completely. both of your movements slowly falter, as you catch your breath and come back to earth.

neither of you say anything - you never have to. jungkook kisses your spine like he always used to and just like that, everything is back to normal.

whatever your “normal” is. all you know is that jungkook isn’t going anywhere and neither are you, at least not any time soon. that’s how it goes.

he slowly pulls out and you whimper at the loss of contact. you’re about to stand up, but jungkook places his hand at the small of your back, arching you again just so that he can spread your ass cheeks and watch his release drip down your puffy folds.

“my favourite sight in the world,” he mutters and before you can respond, he’s buried in his face into your pussy from behind.

you bite back a whimper as jungkook cleans up his cum with his tongue. the mix of your releases is like candy on his mouth. you both know that you need to get the hell out of the booth, though, as much as you would love to grind your pussy on his face longer.

when he pulls away and you straighten up, you both look a mess. his hair sticks up in every direction possible, shirt wrinkled and like you, his lips are reddened. your makeup is ruined and you have marks all over your body. once the two of you open up these curtains, even with the darkened atmosphere of the club, everyone can tell what the two of you were up to.

but, that’s not what matters to you right now.

what matters is the way jungkook zips your dress right back up for you, touch gentle. the way you button his shirt back up for him. there’s a silent understanding of what’s happened here - an understanding of that pathetic pull that you two have on one another.

“guess we made the rumours come true,” you mutter, pouring the both of you another drink for good measure before you step out.

jungkook chuckles lowly, his arm snaking around your waist. “i really did miss you,” he murmurs.

“missed you, too. always.”

after taking a shot, you feel enough courage to tear away the curtain. the two of you step back into the party without a single care in the world, not when your hands are intertwined. the boom of the music greets you once again, as you drag jungkook back into the crowd of the club under vibrant lights and the daze of the night. when you do, you realize that there’s something silver gleaming under the lights - his matching bracelet for you. your own is stacked in between other bangles and chains on your wrist, but it’s still there. never taken off because you knew.

of course, you both knew. there was no doubt that you’d end up here again, so there was no point in taking them off. that’s how it always goes.

[aeristudios]

Just The Tip

ꨄ︎ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Seungcheol is quite needy this morning. Will you give in? ꨄ︎ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: husband!Seungcheol x f.reader ꨄ︎ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, smut, a lil fluff, 18+ ꨄ︎ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (missionary, riding), nail digging, overstimulation, clit stimulation ꨄ︎ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.8K words ꨄ︎ 𝐀𝐍: Randomly thought about Seungcheol begging for it randomly this weekend and I needed to write it haha. Thank you @hannieoftheyear for looking at this so quickly. Love youuuuu <3

“Come on, baby—”

“No, Cheol. I have to go to work, and I cannot be late again.”

“Just the tip, please—”

“Cheol.”

It’s one of those mornings when your husband, Seungcheol, can’t keep his hands off you. It started early this morning when he woke you up with kisses before your alarm went off five minutes later. Not wanting to risk being late, you slipped out of bed and ran into the shower, hoping it would stop his antics. But then you catch him watching you as you dry off, discreetly palming himself under the blanket. You feel him creep up on you as you’re bent over, rubbing your body with your favorite lotion that leaves you smelling divine. You throw him a look in the mirror, watching him gaze at you with a mix of love and lust.

“It’s not happening, sir,” you warn, turning to face him. “I can’t be late to work today.”

“Why?” He raises his brows. “Do you have an important meeting today?”

“No,” you say carefully, acutely aware that you are still naked. “I just don’t want to be late today.”

You are putting up a brave front, stepping around him and into the closet. His hand brushes against your hips on the way, and tiny jolts of excitement spread throughout your body. Despite you saying no, your body says the opposite, your insides practically screaming to let him put in said tip. It doesn't help that Seungcheol looks the sexiest in the mornings, with his sleepy look and slightly disheveled hair. You imagine your fingers running through it, tugging it tightly while you kiss his perfect lips, riding him—

“Ahem.”

Snapping out of your reverie, you glance at Seungcheol before praying your perfume and body mist. He saunters toward you, his hands caressing your hips as his lips grace your neck. Your breath hitches involuntarily, your body betraying you as it reacts to his touch. He knows what he is doing, and you want to give in, but you must stay strong and stick to the schedule.

“Seungcheol,” you softly murmur, attempting to free yourself from him gently. “Not now.”

His fingers sneak lower, flirting with your bikini line. You turn, squinting your eyes at him before successfully unwrapping his hands around you and walking away. You had to leave for your own sake, because if you stayed a minute more, he would have you bent over the bathroom counter, again.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting it,” Seungcheol’s voice carries from the closet. “I know you’re thinking about it.”

A slow smirk plays on your lips, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the vivid imagery playing in your head. Your body tingles with excitement and lust, thinking of the last time he suggested ‘just the tip.’ You hear shuffling in the closet, and you pretend to look busy, digging for something imaginary to deter Seungcheol on his conquest. Unfortunately for you, when you turn around, Seungcheol is shirtless, twirling the matching set of bra and panties you had set out for today. He has a mischievous glint in his eye that makes you gulp. God, you are in trouble.

“Are you looking for these?” Seungcheol asks, feigning innocence.

“Possibly…” your voice trails off, squinting your eyes at him. “Not sure how you ended up with them.”

“Maybe I wanted to help you get dressed, since you don’t want to be late and all.”

You scoff, moving towards him and attempting to grab your undergarments. “I’m a big girl,” you roll your eyes. “I can dress myself.”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol nods in agreement. “But wouldn’t it be so much quicker if you had help?”

You raise your brow at him, aware of the game he is trying to play. You watch him lower himself to his knees, lifting your leg and sliding your panties through it. His eyes are pleading, practically begging for what he wants. He licks his bottom lip at the sight of your naked center, a small sigh escaping his lips. Heat surges through you like a blue flame, your cunt undoubtedly wet and craving his tongue.

“Stop,” you murmur, locking your gaze with his. “You know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” Seungheol teases, kissing your inner thigh. “Tell me.”

“Don’t be coy with me,” you say with a resigned sigh. Looking at the time displayed on your digital clock, you gently grab his chin with your fingers. “Do it before I change my mind.”

“With pleasure, baby.”

His tongue graces your folds, tasting and playing with your clit in ways that make you gasp, clutching onto his hair. He doesn’t break his contact with you, carnal lust taking over him as he hums in your pussy. Pleasure courses through your body at the littlest movements, your hips slowly riding his tongue.

Seungcheol grips your thighs tighter, and he delves deeper, slurping and moaning sounds echoing in the room. The vibrations of his lips make you twitch, gripping his hair tighter. “Fuck, Cheol,” you grit your teeth, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.

“You look divine on my tongue, baby,” he murmurs, not letting up. “Give me more.”

With renewed vigor, Seungcheol slips two fingers inside of you, and you see heaven. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue flattening against your clit as he thrusts into you relentlessly. You’re coming undone, legs shaking as his name spills from your lips like a mantra. You make the mistake of looking down, his lips and cheeks covered with your nectar, and it sends you over the edge, screaming colorful obscenities as you fall into an abyss of pleasure.

Seungcheol is earnest, lapping up everything you offer him, gripping you tighter until your legs give out, your bed being your saving grace as you fall back. He chuckles, licking his lips incessantly as your wetness is spread all over his face. Mind fuzzy from the pleasure, you lie back on the bed, your sheets giving you a soft, cool reprieve to the hot sensation spreading all over your body.

“Are you okay, love?”

You make a minimal effort to lift yourself, studying your husband as he licks his lips, completely satisfied.

“I am… a puddle,” you burst into a giggle, in disbelief. “I can’t believe I let you rope me into that.”

“I can be creative,” Seungcheol gloats, running his fingers through his hair. The bed creaks as he climbs on, towering over you and kissing you deeply. You’re in a daze, his lips and your taste on his tongue putting you in a trance. You feel strung out, overflowing with a lust that only your husband can fix, and it doesn’t help that his tip is poking at your entrance through his boxers.

“So,” he clears his throat, drawing lines across your chest. “Did I earn it?”

You throw him a look before letting out a silvery laugh. Seungcheol, ever the pleaser since you first met him, will always make sure he does a good job. “I think you managed.”

Seungcheol looks at you, surprised, amusement etched on his face. “Managed?”

“Yes. Managed,” you tease him. “You could always be better.”

You roar into laughter as Seungcheol lifts your legs, shoving down his sweats and his large cock springing free. He taps it on your clit, oversensitivity and pleasure shooting through your thighs. Your nails dug into his arm in retaliation, a fire burning your belly as you crave to be fucked.

“Just the tip?” He asks, sliding slowly into your wetness. Your fingers cling to your sheets, your eyes rolling back as his girthy cock goes in inch by inch. You shouldn’t have teased him, you know this, because now he has you where he wants you, just as he planned.

“More than the tip,” you purr, accepting the inevitable. “All of it.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into you, fucking you without mercy. His strokes are long, deep, the kind that fill you up with joy and leave you with tears in your eyes. He pulls you closer, tasting your skin as your nails dig deeper into his back. Your walls spasm around him, loving every minute of the dick he is dropping off, for sure punishment for your teasing earlier.

“Fuck,” you rasp, feeling your peak reaching once more. “You feel so fucking good.”

You feel him grin against your neck, hitting you with a final stroke before lifting you and turning you over. He scurries to the baseboard, beckoning for him to come to him, wiggling his glistening cock. You crawl over to him happily, climbing over and sinking on him slowly, both groaning in unified satisfaction.

“Come here,” Seungcheol mutters, pulling you closer. “Give me your lips.”

His kiss is gratifying, your tongues interwining with another as you ride him, bouncing on his cock the way he likes it. Your pussy gushes as he fucks back, his fingers rubbing your clit vigorously like he owns it. Hit with a shock of pleasure that courses through your veins, you increase the pace and pull his hair, chasing your second orgasm. As if he read your mind, he pounds into you harder, taking your nipple and sucking on it fervently.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you whimper, everything turning white.”Don’t stop.”

“Never, baby,” he grunts. “Give it to me.”

It comes sharp and quick, your legs shuddering and your moans throaty and wet. You cling to Seungcheol as he talks you through it, whispering songs of praise and peppering you with kisses. His thrusts become rigid, signaling his own release as he lets out a loud guttural moan, your walls still pulsating as he empties himself into you. Relishing in each other, you still, your hearts beating as one, as he caresses your back. Love can’t describe what you feel.

“Are you still going to go in?” Seungcheol asks, drawing lines along your back. “Stay home and make it a 3-day weekend.”

Chuckling in the crook of his neck, you gaze at him, kissing him softly. “This was all a part of your plan, huh? Fuck me good and leave me too tired to move?”

Seungcheol peals into laughter, caressing your cheek. “And if it was?”

You lock eyes with him, a knowing look on your face as you lift off him slowly. “Do you remember the last time you begged for ‘just the tip?’” You point at the nightstand, your finger directed at a shiny baby monitor on display next to your wedding portrait.

“So?” Seungcheol shrugs with a smug look. “We can always have another.”

You shake your head with laughter, making your escape before you give him any ideas. A baby’s cry is heard through the monitor, and your heart pangs with guilt. The sunlight shines through the blinds, casting a soft glow that promises a peaceful day. You silently laugh, your shoulders shaking heavily as it dawns on you that at the end, Seungcheol is going to get what he wants.

“Babe? I’m staying home.”

taglist: @asasilentreader @shadowkoo @gyupremacy @superpietom @cheolifyme @livelaughloveseventeen @lovelylonelinesssvt @j3nnch3ls3a @emilliereads @woo-wonwoo @midariiii @ateez-atiny380 @fairwanda @hongyinujiang @gyublues @vwintershire @junnhuisworld

[straylightdream]

say yes?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rich!choi seungcheol x f.reader, the reader also used to be in love with wonwoo

When it comes to your friend group it’s clear you’re in an extremely different tax bracket. Things get complicated when you drunkenly marry Seungcheol after he tells you he wants to take care of you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, smut, romance, angst

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol au, married in vegas au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.5k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking, blacking out, cussing, lots of emotions, and being confused about feelings.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: soft dom choel, multiple sex scenes, consensual drunk sex, unprotected sex, sex in the shower, fooling around in the bath, clit play, breast/nipple play, fingering, multiple positions, creampie, big dick seungcheol, dirty talk, nicknames: pinky, baby, sweetheart (hers) cheol (his)

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+

𝐚𝐧: I couldn’t have written this story without @aeristudios. They were literally here for every step of this story. Thank you @orbitondgtl & @hanniehaeo for beta reading this one.

🎧: delicate - taylor swift | snooze - sza | sacrifice- mariah the scientist | just for me - pinkpantheress

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

There are times when you realize that you and your friend group are in different tax brackets. All of the boys in your friend group have different types of jobs. Soonyoung owns a dance studio, Joshua is a producer, Jeonghan and Mingyu work at Seungcheol‘s company, which he started up when he was twenty. Wonwoo works a tech job with Minghao. Then there is you, working as a freelance writer. A struggling freelance writer at that.

When the money is good for you, things are great, but recently, you can't find work to save your life, and you’ve had to dip into your savings to get by. It’s safe to say that recently things have been quite tough for you.

Sitting in Seungcheol's expensive penthouse with a beautiful view of the city, you’re next to Wonwoo, listening to the rest of the boys go on about what the plan should be for Seungcheol's upcoming birthday. He’s turning thirty, and the boys have been talking about the possibility of a trip to celebrate.

“I say we just commit to finally doing a group Vegas trip.” Jeonghan chimed in. He and Soonyoung have been trying to plan a Vegas trip for years at this point.

“Really, Vegas?” Minghao seems unamused by this idea.

“That could be fun. Could you guys all swing, missing some work for this?” Seungcheol asked.

“I mean, technically, you're mine and Jeonghan's boss.” Mingyu laughs.

All the boys agree to go other than Wonwoo, who is traveling for a work trip that week. When they all turn your attention to you, you wish you could disappear. There is absolutely no way you can afford a trip right now. It’s been over a month since you had a job. You shouldn’t be doing anything lavish.

“I probably shouldn’t travel. I’m trying to lock down a few jobs.”

Seungcheol's eyes lock on yours, and he stares at you intently. He’s always had this ability to easily read you. Setting his beer on the counter, he reaches for his phone in his pocket. You watch as he starts typing away on his keyboard.

Your phone buzzes, and you instantly know he’s texting you.

From cheol 🍒: just go on the trip.

From pinky: I wish I could, but money is tight with the lack of jobs I’m getting.

From cheol 🍒: literally just agree to going and I’ll pay for you. You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll give you a credit card and you can swipe away and pretend the money is coming from a magical account.

From pinky: that’s insane.

He sets his phone down and gives you a smile across the room. “Okay, let’s figure out who is rooming with who. Jeonghan and Shua together. Hao and Mingyu, and then Soonyoung and Pinky.”

“I thought Pinky didn’t agree.” Joshua chimes in. It used to embarrass you, that your nickname refers to the time the wind blew your skirt up and flashed all the boys your pink panties. It’s been over ten years now, and the nickname doesn’t faze you anymore.

“Pinky is going. Right?” He gives you a look, letting you know you can’t say no.

“I’ll go—“ You know this is an absolutely insane idea.

“Good luck. Let me know how this goes.” Wonwoo laughed beside you.

-

Arriving in Vegas feels like an absolute whirlwind. You barely have time to settle in before the boys are dragging you around.

Jeonghan had the absolutely insane idea that the whole group had to be in a bar when it was officially Seungcheol’s birthday . That would be great if you haven’t been drinking for literally hours.

Your hand was gripping Soonyoung’s as he led you towards the bar. He’s talking to the bartender as you attempt to fix this dress that is way too short for your liking.

Looking over where your friend group is, you see Seungcheol watching you. The moment Soonyoung has drinks, he leads you back to the bar, holding his own drink and one for the birthday boy.

As soon as you're close to the group, Jeonghan grabs your arm, moving you closer to the birthday boy. Holding out Seungcheol’s jack and coke he gives you a smile, pressing his lips to your forehead for a quick kiss. This isn't something out of the ordinary, as the entire friend group tends to lack personal boundaries.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” Seungcheol’s hand lingers on your lower back. Standing next to you, he leans down and says, “You look really pretty.” Being – for the most part – one of the only girls in this friend group, it’s not unusual for the boys to compliment you. The way he says it feels different though.

“You look pretty good yourself, birthday boy.” He gives you a crooked smile.

“Let me buy your next drink.”

“I didn’t buy my last one, Soonyoung did.”

“Just let me buy it.”

“But it’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be spending money on drinks.“

“It may be my birthday, but I want to take care of you.” You can hear Joshua and Jeonghan arguing about something in the distance, but all you can fully focus on is the way Seungcheol is staring at you.

“Cheol—“

“Pinky?”

“You don’t need to take care of me. I should be buying you drinks.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet. Without another thought, he pulls out a black metal card and hands it to you. The cold metal hits your hand before you can even argue with him, a clear indication of how wealthy Seungcheol actually is.

“Why are you giving me your card?”

“Because, the whole time we’re here in Vegas, I want you to just use it. Like I said before, pretend it’s coming out of your bank account if it makes you feel better.”

Maybe he’s right, clearly he does have too much money. Why on earth would he freely hand you his black card and just tell you to spend his money?

“Here, time for shots.” Jeonghan comes over holding a tray of what looks like tequila shots.

“Not now Hannie.” You try to wave him off. Before you can say anything else, he holds a tequila shot to your lips.

“Be a good girl and take the shot for Cheol’s birthday.”

You glance over at Seungcheol, who grabs a shot and holds it up to his own lips.

The golden liquid burns as it slides down your throat. You’ve been here an hour, and this is the third shot Jeonghan has passed out. It’s not that you're a light weight, but the amount of alcohol you’re being given will definitely have your judgement feeling cloudy before you know it.

“Cheol, chug your drink and then get on the dance floor with me and Pinky.” Soonyoung pulls you away from Seungcheol before you can even argue with him. You shoved his credit card into your bra to keep it safe.

You aren’t even able to object as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor. Looking back, you find Minghao following behind.

The music is loud, and it’s so crowded you’re pressed against Soonyoung. He turns you around so your back is plastered to his front. It isn’t unusual for you to end up on the dance floor with these two.

Soonyoung rolls his hips with yours to the beat of the music. Looking over, you watch as a random pretty girl has found her way into Minghao’s arms.

You feel Soonyoung release you, and before you can turn around to question him, another body is pressed up to you. A large hand rests on your stomach, rolling your body back against him. There is no way Soonyoung would let a random man dance with you, this has to be one of the boys.

“Do you mind if I take Soonyoung‘s spot?” Seungcheol's husky voice rings in your ear. This is just the man you preferred to be dancing with.

“No.” You say loud enough for him to hear over the loud music.

One hand stays resting on your stomach while the other rests on your hip. His thumb drags over the side of your thong, pressing against the tight fabric of your dress.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol in your system or the feeling of Seungcheol's body against yours that makes your head spin.

“Cheol—“ you practically moan, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

“I can see why Soonyoung likes dancing with you.”

Pulling away from him, you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His body is pressed up against yours. You’re straddling his thigh as you move to the beat of the music.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He leans down so his nose is brushing yours. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes—“ the moment the word leaves your mouth, his lips crash into yours. One hand grips your hip while the other rests on your ass, pulling you closer to him. It’s been so long since you had properly kissed anyone. The feeling of his pouty lips against yours is enough to leave you feeling drunk on lust.

Pulling away, he whispered against your lips, “I have wanted you for so long.” Without another word, you lean in, crashing your lips to his. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him close to you. His strong thigh is between your legs as you grind against him. Your lips fight for dominance, everything around you fading away.

He pulls back and gives you a grin. “I shouldn’t kiss you like this in public.“

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t keep my hands to myself when we kiss like that.”

Mingyu and Soonyoung walk towards you, pulling you away from your moment. Soonyoung grabs your hand, pulling you away from Seungcheol. “Come on, Hannie got more shots.”

The more shots they’re able to pour in your mouth, the hazier things get. The liquid courage has you thinking with a one track mind. All you can think about is an equally drunk Seungcheol.

Leaning against the wall in the club, Seungcheol has you caged in with his arms on either side of your head.

He’s leaving a sea of kisses across your neck up to your jaw. “We should get married.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m just crazy about you.” He peppers your jaw with kisses.

“We can’t get married.”

“Lovebirds, you’re being a little too intense.” Jeonghan teased, pulling Seungcheol away from you.

“You’re just jealous, Hannie.” Seungcheol leans in to kiss you again.

“Come on, loverboy.” He grabs Seungcheol, pulling him away from you.

Leaning against the way you watch as Mingyu pours straight from the bottle into the birthday boy's mouth.

Joshua walks over to you and reaches up, wiping away your smeared lipgloss. “Are you good?” You’ve always been close with him. He’s always one of the first to check on you.

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna leave with Cheol.” There is no way you can just leave this club, go back to your hotel room with Soonyoung, and pretend this never happened.

“Can’t say I’m shocked. Just make sure you use a condom.”

“Shua—” You whine.

“I’m not judging you, just be safe.” He kisses the top of your head before sending Seungcheol back towards you. “I’m serious, use a condom.” He pats Seungcheol on the back.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you walk up to Seungcheol. “Can we please get out of here?” This club feels too crowded, and you just want to be alone with the man you can’t stop kissing.

Hand in hand, he leads you out of the club. He pushes you up against the wall, hidden away from prying eyes. His lips are all over your neck, and his hand is under your tight dress, toying with your thong. It’s taking everything in him to not slide his finger right into your tight core, right out there in the open.

“I want you so bad—” You moan, closing your eyes.

“I will give you anything you could possibly want.”

The last thing you remember is Seungcheol pulling you away from the wall.

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Bright morning light peaking through the curtains wakes you up. You’re an absolute idiot for not closing the curtains fully, even in your drunken state.

You quite possibly woke up with one of the worst hangovers of your life. The pounding in your head mixed with the feeling of nausea is unbearable. If you manage to survive getting out of bed, you quite possibly might kill Jeonghan for pouring too many shots of tequila down your throat.

Closing your eyes tighter, you move further into the bed. Something blocks you when you've barely nestled under the blankets. It bounces back when you push it aside, and when you finally turn around, you see Seungcheol. A lot of him. Your heart practically jumps out of your chest at the sight of him barely covered by a thin white sheet. That same sheet is doing nothing to hide his morning wood.

You remember kissing Seungcheol at the club while Jeonghan egged you on, and your heated makeout session as he pulled you away from the club. You even remember him putting his hand up your dress. You don’t remember anything that happened in this room, or what led you both to be naked. The dark marks across his neck are a clear indicator more than just innocent sleeping took place. You have reason to believe those marks were left by you.

You pull away from him as quietly as you can. Luckily, you’re in his room, so you could probably sneak out without him noticing. The issue is what happens when you get to your room you share with Soonyoung. You can barely slip away underneath the blankets before he pulls you close.

“Stop trying to run away. Just cuddle with me.” He mumbles, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Seungcheol—”

“Baby, just stay in bed. My head hurts, and cuddling with you will fix it.”

“Baby?” You relax, letting him pull you closer to him. Lying on your side, he pulls your leg up so it’s resting on his stomach. He hasn’t bothered responding to your confusion about your new nickname.

“You’ve never called me baby before.”

“Well, you weren’t my wife before.” You must be hearing things. There is no way he just called you his wife. It feels as if an ice cold bucket of water was poured on you.

“Wife?”

“We got married?”

He knits his brows together. “Pinky, remember I told you I wanna take care of you?"

“I didn’t think you were serious about actually putting a ring on my finger.”

“Speaking of rings. I wanna get you a proper nice ring after I have some caffeine and food, and then possibly give you a reminder about our time in this bed.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Seungcheol—“

“Pinky, before you freak out, just think about the pros of us being married. I can give you a list if you want.” He’s absolutely insane. He can’t actually think randomly getting married in Vegas is a good idea. He has more money in his bank account than you’ll probably ever be worth.

“Why would you actually want to marry me?” You pull away from him.

“I have liked you since college. Long before I saw your cute pink panties. I have more money than I could ever need. I want to take care of you. You work so hard, and I don’t want you to stress about money. I think we’re a good pair. You can’t tell me you don’t have feelings for me.” Seungcheol is laying all his cards out on the table. He’s wanted you for as long as he can remember. This is one shot at trying to fully be with you. Who cares if you skipped a couple major steps and just married you.

“Cheol—“

“Do you not like me?” His face falls a little.

“I obviously like you. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have made out with you. It’s just… people are going to assume I’m a gold digger, or you’re my sugar daddy.”

“I can be your sugar daddy if you want me to be.”

“I’m being serious. This whole thing is crazy.”

He sits up. Reaching over, he rested his hand on your cheek. “It might be crazy, but I like you, and I know we could fall in love so easily if you gave us a real shot. We can pretend we’re just dating if you want. But I would prefer we go all in.”

Well, he’s clearly insane, and you might be too because suddenly his idea isn’t sounding so crazy. ”What does all in include?”

He gives you a gummy smile, “you move in with me, and we live as husband and wife. That means we can kiss and do all the things married people do.”

“Cheol, this is crazy.”

“I know, but let’s just see where this goes.”

“Okay—“

“How about we shower and then go get breakfast, and then I’ll get you a nice ring.” He pulls away the covers, revealing his very naked body. He stands up completely unfazed by the fact that he’s naked.

“Shower?”

“Yeah, I need to shower, and you probably want to shower, and I think we should save water and do it together.”

He walks off to the huge en-suite bathroom he has. You never got to fully look around this suite he booked while you were sober. Before going out, he met everyone at Jeonghan and Joshua’s room. This hotel is definitely too expensive for you. But for the boys, this is nothing.

Right now is the time to be brave. Seungcheol told you he wants to stay married and act like a married couple. If he’s your husband, you should have absolutely no issue joining him in the shower.

Walking into the large white and marble bathroom, you’re greeted by the sight of Seungcheol standing behind the glass. Your eyes are drawn to his very large length, that is basically hard.

“Is my wife going to join me?” He turns to his back and is facing you. Your eyes go to his olive tree tattoo. You remember him getting it Anytime you’ve gone to the pool or seen him shirtless you’ve always wanted to trace it.

Walking towards the shower you slide open the door and step inside. This shower is so big it could probably fit five people. The shower head is above you. Seungcheol steps aside, he’s still under the water but it gives you room.

“Can I kiss you again?” He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him.

“Yes.”

The first time his lips touch yours it’s slow, as if he's testing the waters. Your hand rests on his chest. His hand rests on the back of your head, holding you close to him. His lips move against yours as if he needs you to breathe.

“I couldn’t believe it when you actually agreed to marry me.” He says with his lips against yours. “I would have married you years ago if you would have said yes.” He moves you backwards and your back hits the cold tile behind you.

“You didn’t think about maybe just asking me out on a date?” You say between feather light kisses against his lips.

“I have wanted to ask you out since college. There were a few things that complicated it. One being I was worried about our friend group, another one being that I thought Wonwoo liked you.”

He kind of hit the nail on the head with Wonwoo being brought up. Wonwoo didn't necessarily like you, but you had a good five years when you thought you were in love with him. Turns out time heals a broken heart and you let go of your feelings for him long ago. Wonwoo and you are still very close, you just don’t pine after him like you used to.

“Cheol—“

“You don't have to explain anything to me. Just promise me you’ll give us a shot.”

“I’ll give us a shot, but you don’t want you to worry about Wonwoo.”

“I’m not worried about Wonwoo now. I talked to him before we left and he told me not to worry about him.” Why on earth would he ask Wonwoo about what’s going on?

“Why did you talk to him?”

“My only birthday wish was, I was finally going to ask you to be mine. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on his toes.” He caged you against the shower wall. “This is the perfect way to spend the morning on my birthday.”

Wrapping your around his neck, you pull him closer to you. “Are you really serious about wanting to be married?”

“One hundred percent. Let me take care of you, baby.”

“I could get used to you calling me that.”

He crashed his lips into yours for a searing kiss. No man has ever kissed you quite like he has. The way his lips move against yours it’s almost as if he’s kissing you like he needs you to breathe.

Reaching down you take his already hardened length in your hand. You can’t lie, you're a little ache between your legs from your wedding night that you don’t fully remember. The size of him alone in your hand, you know it’s gonna take a little while for your body to adjust to him.

His nose rests against yours. A low moan passes his lips as you stroke his velvety length.

“How do you like this?”

“Focus on the head.” He groans.

His hand dips down and he starts playing with your clit, before dipping two fingers into your wet core. “Fuck—“ He moans.

“Cheol—“

“I need to get a condom.” He pulls his hands away from you.

Reaching for his hand you stop him from leaving the shower. The idea of feeling him raw right now turns you on even more..

“I’m on birth control.”

He looks at you with a surprised look playing across his face. “Are you sure?”

“I’m clean. It’s been a year since I’ve had sex with anyone other than my own hand or my vibrator.” That’s definitely embarrassing to admit, but if anyone should know this information it should be your husband.

“I’m clean too. I haven’t had sex in like three months.”

“If you want we can go bare.”

“Where do you want me to finish?”

You let out a little chuckle at this question. “Inside?”

“Okay.” He steps towards you again. “Can you turn around baby?”

Your hands are placed on the cold tile, you arched your back. Looking over your shoulder you watch as he pumps his large length. “We’ll go slow. You said our first time I’m in your words, fucking massive.”

“I trust you to take care of me.”

True to his word he ever so slowly pushed into you. As he bottomed out he gave you time to adjust. His hand gently rubbed your back helping you to relax. The stretching feeling slowly starts to dissipate into a feeling of pleasure.

“You can move. Can you play with my clit while you do?”

“Of course.”

His thrusts are slow but deep. He’s hitting places inside of you, you aren’t quite sure another man has ever reached. Reaching around his fingers rub your clit. Pushing your hips back, you meet his thrust. One of his hands grips your hip tightly,leaving finger print shaped bruises in his wake. With each drag of his cock he seems to brush a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

“Cheol—“ His name comes out as a broken moan.

“Such a good girl.” You could get used to him speaking to you like that. You’ve never been one for dirty talk or pet names, but with him you can’t seem to get enough of it.

“So big.”

“You’re so tight, it’s like you were made for me.”

Pushing your hips back harder, you’re chasing your release that is getting closer and closer. Squeezing your eyes closed you concentrate on the filling of his hands on your clit.

The dam breaks as a white hot wave hits you. A slur of curse words and his name pour from your lips. Your walls contract around his massive length. Your arms start to give out as you start to fall forward. Without even thinking he grabs your hips keeping you from falling.

“Baby, I’m close.” His thrusts are sloppy as he holds you up. He slams your butt against his pelvis as he fills you to the brim, painting your walls with his milky release.

“Can you put your hands back on the wall?”

Even in your dazed state you listen to his request. Your hands are on the cold title wall holding yourself up.

Slowly he pulls out of you, watching as his cum slowly leaks out. He never necessarily had a creampie kink, but seeing you like this might have changed something inside of him. He’s not sure if he could ever wear a condom with you again, after seeing you like this.

“Fuck that was good.” You mumble resting your cheek against the shower wall.

“I need to clean you up.” He reaches for an unused washcloth hanging on the wall.

After an intense round of shower sex, Seungcheol takes his time washing your body, and washing your hair. Once the water is off he even dries you off before wrapping you in an expensive white fluffy robe.

Seungcheol ordered room service. They quickly brought up coffee and pastries.

Thank god you’re sitting in bed wrapped up in a robe and not still naked. The door opens and Jeonghan barges in. Seungcheol doesn’t seem fazed that he’s practically naked wearing only a towel resting low on his hips.

“Soonyoung said you didn’t come back to the room. I had a feeling this is where I would find you.” The grin Jeonghan is wearing is enough of a sign that he’s enjoying this.

“Jeonghan, why are you here?” Seungcheol turns around and starts going through his suitcase.

“I’m making sure you’re both alive and well. Soonyoung was a little concerned about where his roommate ended up sleeping.”

“Well, you found us and were alive. You and the boys do whatever you want today. I’m going to spend the day with Pinky and go shopping.”

“Dude it’s your birthday, don’t you want to have a birthday dinner?”

He looks over at you. He’s trying to figure out if you want to go to dinner with all the boys. “Sure. Can you book us a reservation in the private room at the sushi place downstairs?”

“Sure.” Jeonghan looks over at you giving you a knowing glance.

“Have fun, lovebirds,” he practically sings walking out.

After finally getting rid of Jeonghan, Seungcheol takes you to your room to get ready. Luckily Soonyoung is nowhere to be seen. You weren’t ready to face any of the other boys quite yet. Dressed in a sundress and a pair of sandals he takes you down to the lobby where he has a car waiting for you.

He’s made the decision to go shopping for rings before eating lunch. Arriving at the Bellagio hotel, he takes you by the hand leading you straight to Tiffany and Co. You quite literally can’t afford anywhere like this before in your life.

The moment you enter the store a sales associate walks up and asks if you need any help.

“We’re here for an engagement ring, and wedding bands for each of us.”

You can’t even say anything. You're just shocked this is even real. Everything in this room is absolutely out of your budget.

You’re immediately led off to a private room. Silently you sit there next to Seungcheol as a bunch of rings are placed in front of you.

“Any specific shape in mind?” The sales lady asked.

“No.” When you dreamed about getting married as a teen you never got to the point of imagining a wedding ring.

“Baby, don’t worry about the price. Just pick what you think is perfect for you.” Seungcheol whispers in your ear.

“Are you getting married soon?” She asked.

“We’re actually already married but I want her to have a proper engagement and wedding ring.”

The amount of sparkling diamonds on the tray in front of you, is worth probably more than you will ever make in your lifetime. Your eyes are instantly drawn to a beautiful teardrop shaped diamond. It’s on the smaller side which is perfect for you.

Picking it up, you slide it on your finger. Instantly you know, this is the ring. Glancing over at Seungcheol you find him intently watching you. “Do you think that’s the one, baby?” Him calling you baby still makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“If it’s not too much, yes.”

“We’ll take that one, and can we see the wedding bands for her and myself.”

Within moments all the engagement rings are gone and instantly a sea of wedding bands are in front of both of you. Your eyes flash over to a v shaped diamond encrusted ring that would match your tear dropped shaped ring perfectly. Without even thinking you point, the one that caught your eye.

Seungcheol picks it up and slides it onto your finger. He grabs the engagement rings and puts them on with it. Instantly something tells you that this is your ring.

“I think I just watched you light up at the sight of these.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“We’ll take these two.” He says before you can even protest.

“Seungcheol, how much are those?

“I told you it doesn’t matter. You’re my wife and I want to spoil you.”

Seungcheol picks a beautiful platinum wedding band with diamonds scattered around it. When it’s time to check out, you try your hardest not to see the total, but unfortunately you see the total is close to thirty thousand and you instantly feel sick. The idea of him dropping that much money instantly is insane.

Luckily your wedding ring set you picked is perfectly your size. Seungcheol wastes no time putting it on your finger.

After ring shopping he takes you out to brunch at a beautiful restaurant. He’s talking to you all about a business trip coming up and asking if you would be interested in traveling with him for now on. How are you supposed to say no to something like this?

“Cheol, I was thinking maybe we should wait until we tell the boys all about our marriage? and hold off on wearing our rings. I was thinking maybe telling them and Wonwoo all together.” You don’t want one of the boys telling Wonwoo. This is definitely something you should tell him.

“If that’s what you want to do. Would you like me to keep your rings safe until then?”

“Yes please. Maybe tonight I should sleep in my room with Soonyoung so the boys don’t push too much.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’m saying this now, on the flight home you’re riding next to me. Mingyu can sit with Soonyoung.”

“Okay.”

Seungcheol's entire birthday was spent with you. After lunch you went shopping, where he not only bought himself some clothes, but he also had no issues pulling out his fancy black card to buy you a dress he thought would look beautiful on you.

Heading back to your own hotel room you find Soonyoung getting ready.

“Well, well, well. Look at who finally decided to show up.” He teases you, grabbing his belt off the bed.

“Sorry I was a little preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied by Cheol’s dick?”

Soonyoung has never been one to sugar coat things with you.

“I’m not kissing and telling.”

“I’ve heard he’s pretty big. I’m shocked you’re still walking.”

“Soonyoung, shut up.” You grab a decorative pillow and throw it at him. He quickly dodges it and gives you a huge smile.

“Damn you’re feisty. I thought getting some good dick would make you chill out.”

Oh if only he knew what getting ‘good dick’ had led to.

“I’m going to change my shoes and then we should head downstairs.”

Arriving at the restaurant you show up just as Seungcheol arrives with Jeonghan and Joshua. Minghao and Mingyu arrive shortly after. This sushi restaurant is absolutely gorgeous.

The host leads you back to a private room where you have a private chef. There aren’t any food menus passed around, only a cocktail menu. The chef starts making omakase style sushi for the group.

This is the nicest sushi dinner you have ever had. The boys are having a great time, each with a ton of delicious sushi and drinking. Jeonghan ran off to the bar and paid for a huge bottle of sake. He comes back into the room and starts pouring liquor straight into everyone's mouth.

You’re sitting across from Seungcheol watching him have a great time. Seeing him happy instantly makes you happy.

The moment the check comes, Seungcheol pulls out his black card before anyone could argue. Before the waiter could get out of the room Jeonghan rushes up and swaps the cards.

Jeonghan hands the card back to Seungcheol. “You pay me too much to do my job. This is the least I could do for my best friend.”

The two of them have been best friends since freshman year of college when they were roommates. Jeonghan was there every step of the way of Seungcheol creating his company. It was inevitable that Jeonghan would work for him and make bank alongside him.

The night comes to a close and the group is heading off to the elevators. You and Seungcheol are walking in the back of the pack. He keeps intentionally bumping you, and giving you knowing looks.

He gives you a quick kiss before anyone can see. The way he’s looking at you, gives you butterflies.

Parting ways everyone to head off to their own room, you head off with Soonyoung. You’re getting ready to shower before you get a text.

from cheol 🍒: Goodnight baby

from wifey 💕: Goodnight my husband 💗

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The last four days after returning home have been an absolute whirlwind. Seungcheol immediately hired people to pack up your things and move you into your now shared penthouse.

As soon as you returned home you had to take a trip to Seungcheol’s bank, so you could be added onto all his accounts. Reluctantly you took all the fancy debit and credit cards he gave you.

This whole situation doesn’t feel real. According to Seungcheol, the black card that is now in your name can be used for anything you want.

Today is the first day things feel slightly normal. You’ve been working all day on a freelance assignment you were able to get. Seungcheol has been at the office all afternoon. You don’t expect him home until just before the boys are coming over for game night. It’s going to take some getting used to living in this huge penthouse.

The door opens and Seungcheol walks in carrying too many designer shopping bags. You instantly know he went on a shopping spree for you.

“Cheol, what did you get?” You close your laptop and look at your husband.

“I got you some new clothes, a purse that I saw because it made me think of you. Some things that are more selfishly for me.”

“What did you get for yourself?” He sets one of the bags on the counter and pulls out some very expensive looking lingerie. You can’t help but smile. “So you saw that and thought of me?”

“Yes. There is also a pretty dress I got for you to wear tonight.”

Something deep down inside of you told you, telling Wonwoo wasn’t going to be easy. Having this game night with the intention of telling the boys about your marriage suddenly feels tacky and wrong.

-

Dressed in a beautiful flowy yellow dress Seungcheol bought you as a gift. You should feel beautiful and happy, but you aren’t. You’re anxious and feel nauseous. It feels weird that Seungcheol had no issue dropping all this money on a designer dress and shoes for you to wear tonight.

Taking a deep breath you walk out of the bathroom and find Seungcheol standing in front of the mirror fixing up his hair. He looks so handsome.

“You look gorgeous.” He says the moment his eyes lock on you through the mirror.

“Thank you for the dress.”

Turning around he steps towards you. His dark eyes slowly travel up and down your body. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. “We need to go shopping and get you more dresses like this. You look absolutely breathtaking.”

“You’re just saying that because it makes my boobs look big.” The moment you put this dress on you saw how crazy it made your chest look.

“That's just a bonus, but you look absolutely beautiful.”

He reaches out holding your hand. “If you want to keep our marriage on the down low we can.”

This isn’t a secret you can keep to yourself. You don’t want to lie to your friends about what is going on between you and Seungcheol. If you agreed to stay married that definitely means everyone should know you’re married.

“You and I both know you are going to call me your wife and confuse people sooner rather than later.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“You rarely call me Pinky anymore. You seem to be quite fond of baby and your wife.”

The boys start showing up one by one. Wonwoo comes over pretty early on. You’re chatting in the kitchen together. He’s drinking a beer, while you’re sipping on a glass of wine. Wonwoo is telling you about his work trip. He asked about the Vegas trip. You dance around telling him about what has unfolded between you and Seungcheol.

“How drunk did everyone get it?”

“I don’t even remember everything from Cheol‘s party at the club.”

You don’t think you have ever gotten that drunk in your life. Even at crazy college parties, you never got nearly that drunk.

“Damn. I missed black out drunk Pinky?” Wonwoo lets out a laugh.

“I would prefer I never black out again.”

“I don’t blame you. I wish I could have gone. You all seemed like you had an amazing trip.”

“Wonwoo and Pinky get in here.” Soonyoung yells from the living room.

Game night is already as chaotic as it tends to be. It’s not a game night if Jeonghan isn’t trying to find a way to cheat. Him and Joshua are being absolute menaces like they normally are together. You’re sitting on the couch next to Seungcheol.

Jeonghan is attempting to cheat to win.

“Pinky, you’re just jealous you’re losing like always.”

You know Jeonghan is joking, he’s always loved to tease you. The problem is you can feel how annoyed Seungcheol is.

“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way.” The moment the word wife leaves his mouth it feels as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

“Whoa wait, what?” Jeonghan looks extremely confused, along with the rest of the room.

Suddenly the room goes dead silent for what feels like a lifetime. Seungcheol stares at you with wide eyes. Looking past your husband you see Wonwoo standing next to Joshua. The look of confusion on his face morphs into hurt.

“You guys actually got married?”’Jeonghan asked the question clearly the whole room wanted to ask.

“Yeah we got married. We’re fully together now.” Seungcheol says. You’re left sitting there silently in shock.

“We thought you two just got drunk and fucked.” Soonyoung chimes in.

Wonwoo looks at Soonyoung and then walks off towards the kitchen. This is not how you wanted him to find out. Hell this isn’t how you wanted any of them to find out.

“We got married.” Seungcheol squeezes your hand.

“Did you move in here?” Joshua asked.

“Yeah, she moved in.”

“What about your lease?” Joshua is asking the same questions you asked.

“It’s over in four months and Seungcheol is helping me with it.”

Jeonghan barks out a laugh. “You two are actually insane, but for some reason I think this is a good idea.”

Stepping away from Seungcheol, he releases your hand. Walking away from everyone, you head off to the kitchen where you find Wonwoo leaning against the counter.

“Wonwoo—“

“What were you thinking? Pinky you’re smarter than this.”

“We were drunk and it just happened.”

Taking his glasses off he rubs his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “Are you guys going to get this annulled?" He puts his glasses back on.

“No, we're going to stay married.”

The look on his face isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen before. He’s never looked this sad or disappointed when he’s with you. “You’re insane, you can’t think this is a good idea. You’ve never even dated each other and now suddenly you’re married.”

Wonwoo is bringing to the surface all the little insecurities you’ve had about being married suddenly.

“I know it’s crazy, but I think this is a good idea. Seungcheol has liked me for a while, and I can’t lie, I've had feelings for him.”

He barks out a laugh. “That’s fucking fantastic. I’m so glad you talked about your feelings. Maybe try dating before just jumping into being married.”

That hurt so much more than you thought it would. Wonwoo’s reaction is worse than you could have imagined.

“Wonwoo, you’re being mean.”

“No, I’m being real. You and Cheol are in some honeymoon lalaland and not realizing this is absolutely insane.”

“We talked about this and we think it’s a good idea.”

The shame that takes over you, knowing that one reason Seungcheol wants to be married to you is so he can support and take care of you.

“I can’t stand here and lie to you, and say this is a good idea.” He pushes himself off the counter. “I’m going to head out.”

“You’re really just going to leave?” Tears brim your eyes as you try your hardest not to cry.

“Yes.”

“Wonwoo why are you acting like this?”

“Because if I would have gone on this trip, none of this would have happened.”

The feeling of an ice cold bucket of water being dumped on you makes the room fall dead silent. Wonwoo stands there looking defeated and tears are now sliding down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s fine, I should leave.” Without saying another word Wonwoo walks out of your new home. He doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, he just leaves. The worst part of it all, is now you’re both hurt and you’re not quite sure you can ever fix things between you.

The tears don’t stop falling. How are you supposed to just walk back out there where all your friends are and act like nothing happened. Leaning against the counter you push away your tears.

Looking up you find Seungcheol walking towards you. “Baby what happened?” He rested his hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Wonwoo said we’re crazy and said we should annul this.” Closing your eyes you try and stop the tears from falling.

“We might be crazy, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting this, from wanting you.”

“I want this.” You lean up towards him. He leans in, resting his nose against yours. “I want you.”

“Don’t let Wonwoo upset you. He’ll come around.”

“I need to stop crying. I don’t need the boys knowing about my fight with Wonwoo.”

He leans in pressing his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “Mingyu left to go talk to him. He kind of stormed out, but none of the boys will judge you. Just go back out there and act like nothing happened.”

Seungcheol was right, walking back to the living room the remaining boys acted like nothing happened. Soonyoung is more interested in seeing your very expensive ring that Seungcheol bought you in Vegas.

“I can’t believe you were just sharing a room with me pretending you weren’t married.”

“Cut me some slack, we were trying to navigate this.”

Soonyoung nudges your shoulder. “I thought you had seemed happier since the club that night. Now it makes sense. Clearly our beloved Cheol is treating you right in more ways than one.” He raises his eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Soonyoung—“

“Fine, don't have to talk about it. But I want you to know if being married to Seungcheol makes you happy, I fully support you guys.”

The night comes to a close and the boys head out leaving you alone with your husband. Seungcheol finds you in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine. That conversation with Wonwoo was so much harder than you expected it to be.

Seungcheol comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach. He rested his head on your shoulder. “Baby—”

“Cheol?”

“How about we take a bath together and then let me take care of you.”

“Okay.”

Seungcheol en-suite bathroom is double the size of yours in your small one bedroom apartment. There is a standalone large shower, and bathtub that can comfortably fit two people. The bath is filled with vanilla scented water and lots of bubbles. Seungcheol is sitting with his back against the edge and you’re lounging between his legs.

Silently you play with the bubbles in front of you. Seungcheol is focused on you. He can tell how upset you are. He knows your conversation with Wonwoo hurt your feelings. Anyone who knows you, knows how close you and Wonwoo are. He’s pretty sure you and Wonwoo have never even had an argument.

“I like you so much.” He says capturing your attention. His hand rests on your soft stomach, kneading the flesh. His hand dips lower, his finger dips between your folds. Slowly his finger starts toying with your sensitive clit. “Relax and let me take care of you.”

It’s only been a week and somehow Seungcheol knows all the right places to touch to make you fall apart instantly.

Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Rolling your head back against his shoulder, you moan loudly. “You’re so good for me.” He whispered against your ear. “Let’s get you out of here and move this to our bed.”

Seungcheol referring to things in his home as yours still feels strange.

Laying on the bed with a sea of expensive high thread cotton sheets surrounding you. Your legs are spread. Your husband is sitting on his knees slowly thrusting into you over and over again.

“You feel so good.” He moans.

His hand rests on your mound. His thumb is rubbing circles on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

When you’re like this with Seungcheol nothing else seems to matter. You aren’t thinking about your fight with Wonwoo. You aren’t thinking about money. The only thing you can think about is how he’s making you feel.

His pace is slow and deep. Your body is learning to adapt to the sheer size of your husband’s cock.

The closer you get to your orgasm washing over you, the closer you want him. Your reach for him. All you can do is moan his name. Instantly he knows what you want. His body hovers over you, caging you in. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. Rolling his hips into you, his pelvis keeps brushing your clit, pushing you closer and closer.

The moment the knot in your stomach snaps you find your release moaning his name like a prayer. His own release follows. Echoing sounds of low moans and broken words pass his lips. He fills you to the brim and stills hovering over you. He doesn’t move, he just leans down and kisses you repeatedly.

“I’m so happy you’re my wife.” He said against your lips.

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Wonwoo. Every time you contemplate texting him and asking him to talk, you end up chickening out.

During this time you have been trying so hard to get used to your new life. Luckily you were finally able to secure a few new writing jobs. Things in your professional life finally seem to be going in the right direction.

Your week days are filled with hanging out in the kitchen in your makeshift office, while Seungcheol goes into work.

Things with your new married life are taking a little bit to get used to. You aren’t quite sure you’ll ever be able to properly comprehend how much money Seungcheol truly makes. The amount of money Seungcheol has no issue dropping on you is absolutely absurd. This whole sharing his bank account situation is still rubbing you the wrong way.

Standing in the grocery store you’re pushing the cart listening to Soonyoung tell you all about his date. After one single date he’s basically already in love with this girl.

At the check out you watch the total slowly go up. Without even thinking you go to grab your own credit card. One that’s for an account not attached to your husband’s.

Before you can tap your card you see Soonyoung give you a look. “Why aren’t you using his credit card?”

“I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, but you aren’t just buying groceries for yourself now. They’re for him too, and he’s going to be pissed if he realizes you spent your own personal money on him.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab the black metal card Seungcheol gave you. “I hate this. This whole thing makes me feel like he’s my sugar daddy.”

“Pinky, he can’t be your sugar daddy when he’s literally your husband. He wants to support his wife. It’s his job. For the love of god, just let him spend money on you.”

After grocery shopping with Soonyoung you head home and put everything away. The whole time you’re alone with your thoughts you think about reaching out to Wonwoo. It’s eating away at you, that your friendship might be over because of your marriage. Even though you miss Wonwoo, you can’t bring yourself to give up your marriage to make him happy.

Another thing that can’t seem to leave your mind is the whole spending Seungcheol money situation. It doesn’t leave your mind the entire day.

After a long day at work Seungcheol asked if you would go out to dinner with him. Sitting in another expensive restaurant, you look at the menu, your eyes about bulge out of your head at the prices. Looking up at Seungcheol he’s scrolling through his phone.

“Cheol, this place is expensive.”

“It's fine, just order whatever you want.”

The waitress comes back around. Seungcheol orders a bottle of wine and an expensive steak. She turns to you.

“I’ll take the house salad.”

“Is that all?” She takes the menu from your hands.

“Yes.”

Seungcheol hands over his menu and tilts his head at you. “Why did you only order an appetizer salad?”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Baby, I told you money isn’t an issue.”

“I’m aware, but to me this place is too expensive.”

He opens his mouth to speak and instantly closes it. There is a long beat of silence as you just stare at each other.

“How was work?” You’re trying your hardest to change the subject.

“It was fine. Some clients came in and I had Jeonghan and Mingyu handle it. I was thinking about taking some time off, so we could celebrate being married just the two of us.”

“How long?”

“Maybe a week.”

The waitress comes over with a bottle of wine and silently pours each of you a glass.

“Before you go, can my wife please order the salmon risotto?”

You go to open your mouth and he sends you a look basically letting you know not to complain.

Reaching for the glass of wine, you bite your tongue. You want to tell him to stop spending money on you, but you know this is a fight.

The rest of dinner is quiet. You don’t complain about the money, just sit there making small talk with him. The moment the check comes you blankly stare at the table. You don’t want to know how much the bill is. You know the sound of his metal black card hitting the check book.

He stands up and takes your hand leading you out towards the valet. Seungcheol can tell something is wrong. You might not have been married very long, but you’ve been friends for over a decade. He knows how to read you like an open book. He’s well aware he’s upset you.

Arriving home the elevator ride is just as quiet as the car ride home. Seungcheol knows you need to talk before going to bed.

He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water while you head off to the bedroom. Walking back into the bedroom he finds you putting on your pajamas.

“Pinky?”

“Yes?” You turn to face him.

“If you’re going to yell at me, can you please do it now?”

A heavy sigh passes your lips. Sitting on the edge of the bed. “Cheol I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to yell at you. I wish you would realize how jarring all of this is for me.” He stands in front of you and silently listens to what you have to say. “I went from struggling to get writing jobs and living from paycheck to paycheck to this. It’s insane you have no problem dropping thousands on me. I’m not used to this luxury lifestyle you live.”

“I make so much money, I’m happy I finally have someone to spend it on.”

“That’s nice, but this whole lifestyle doesn’t feel real to me. It makes me uncomfortable just throwing your card around like it’s nothing. I want you to be my husband, not my sugar daddy.”

“I’ll try and tone it down. Just understand that occasionally I’m going to want to spoil you.”

“We need to find a middle ground.”

“I’ll try to calm down with the money.” He stepped closer to you. Putting his hand under your chin he tilts your head up. He drags his thumb across your bottom lip. “I don’t want to upset you. My goal as your husband is to support you emotionally and to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“I do.”

Leaning down he presses his lips to yours. You honestly don’t want to fight with him. This conversation could change a lot of things. You hope that he truly understands.

A few days passed and Seungcheol decided to take a week off of work to spend time as a properly married couple. On the first day he asked if you wanted to take a vacation somewhere and you immediately shut that down.

You’re on day three and after taking a trip to the museum and getting lunch, you’re laying on the couch together watching a movie. He just placed an order for your favorite Thai food place.

He’s laying on his back with you resting between his legs. “How do you feel about eventually having a proper wedding?”

You’ve definitely thought about this a few times.

“I’m not opposed to it.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. I would like to properly marry you in front of our friends and families.”

You want to stay married but it oddly feels too soon to be thinking about this. “Maybe we should wait a little while to plan this.”

“Okay.” He’s a little sad you clearly don't want to do this now, but he’s trying to be understanding.

“When do we have a proper wedding can it not be super expensive?”

“It can be whatever you want it to be. You can have full reign planning it.” He doesn’t care how his wedding looks as long as you’re the one walking down the aisle towards him. He pined after you for years. All he cares about is you’re finally his.

“Is Soonyoung going to be your man of honor?”

You’ve known Soonyoung since you were sixteen. He’s been your best friend ever since. It would be weird if he wasn’t your man of honor.

“Yes. Is your best man Jeonghan?” You lace your fingers with his. Gently squeezing his hand.

“I think he would kill me in my sleep if I picked someone else.”

“He would make me a widow if you hurt his feelings like that.”

“I have to make sure I don’t die on you.” He brings your hands up to his lips and presses a kiss to the top of your hand. “I’m enjoying being home and getting to spend time with you.”

“This has been nice.” You’ve known Seungcheol for a decade, but this feels like you’re getting to know each other on a romantic and more intimate level.

Soon your take out arrives and you spend the evening eating dinner and enjoying each other's company. As night falls you’re tangled up in your sheets. Laying on your stomach with a pillow under your hips. Seungcheol is on his knees straddling your legs. He pushes his hips into yours at a slow and deep pace. This angle has his hitting spots inside of you that have never been reached.

Your fingers grip the sheet. Closing your eyes you moan his name. He’s stretching you out in the best way possible. Leaning down he presses a trail of open mouth kisses across your spine.

“Fuck—“

“You feel so good.” He moans.

Lifting your hips, you push them back slightly to meet his thrust. Sex with your husband is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

“Baby.” His moans are intoxicating.

“I’m— cl-close.” He’s practically made you a rambling mess.

“Cum for me.”

He picks up his pace helping both of you chase your highs. Squeezing your eyes closed your high washes over you like a white hot wave. He gets two more thrust in before he slams his lips into your butt hitting his own high. He feels you to the brim with his milky white release.

Pulling out of you, he watches intently as his release leaks out of you.

Jumping off the bed he cleans up the mess he made before crawling into bed with you. Pulling you close to him your head rests on his chest as he gently rubs your side. It’s not long before sleep finds both of you.

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You’ve been married for two months and things are finally starting to feel normal. Seungcheol has chilled out after practically throwing money at you.

It’s been a long day for you. You lucked out and found a new writing job that pays well. You’ve spent all day trying to finish as much as possible whileSeungcheol’s been at the office all day. The moment he gets home he immediately finds you in your bedroom working on writing. You’ve made yourself cozy on the bed with your lap desk and a cup of tea.

“Jeonghan is hosting a game night tonight.” He says walking across the bedroom towards you.

You close your laptop, setting it on your nightstand. “Is everyone going to be there?” It’s been a while since your whole friend group has hung out. Things have been a little office since everyone found out about your marriage.

“That’s what I’m being told.”

“Does that include Wonwoo?”

He leans against the dresser and lets out a heavy sigh. He knows that this whole Wonwoo situation is eating away at you. He’s never liked seeing you sad, and knowing that you’re hurt right now makes him want to fix this.

“Probably not.”

“It’s safe to say I ruined our friend group.”

“You didn’t ruin the friend group. You aren’t the only one who is to blame here. He’s not just upset with you.”

“I hate this.”

“Pinky, can I ask you something?” He has a feeling he already knows the answer to this, but it’s going to eat away at him if he doesn’t ask you.

“Yeah?”

“I know Wonwoo liked you, but did you also like him?” His question caught you off guard. What the hell did he mean? Wonwoo liked you too?

“At one point I’m pretty sure I was in love with him, it was one-sided though.” This is the first time you’re admitting out loud you were in love with Wonwoo.

The look on Seungcheol's face hurts. His normal bright eyes have sadness behind him. “Pinky—“ He thought everyone knew Wonwoo was in love with you. “Wonwoo liked you.”

You’re giving him a look he can’t even explain. You look like he just told you the worst news possible. “Oh—“

“It seems half the group knew about your feelings and the other half knew about his. Maybe that’s why so many people were confused about us getting together.”

“Wonwoo liked me?” Suddenly it feels like the glass floor below you shattered. How on earth did you not realize that he liked you back.

“Yeah.”

“ I just feel so confused. I thought when I was in love with him it was one-sided.” Your eyes brim with tears.

“I’m sorry—“ He whispers, watching as your tears slide down your cheek.

“I think I should go.” You push yourself off the bed.

“Pinky—“

“Cheol, I’m confused and I need space.” Walking off to the closet, grab the closest duffle bag you can find.

Closing his eyes he tries his hardest not to cry. Walking over to the bed he sits there silently watching you pack a bag to leave him. Everything is suddenly crumbling and he doesn't know what to say or do to fix it.

When your bag is finally packed you don’t kiss him goodbye. He follows you to the front door. Before you can leave he grabs your hand.

“I’m begging you not to give up on us. I know this is confusing and I’m sorry about everything. Just please give us a chance.”

“I’m going to stay with either Soonyoung or Joshua.” Those are the last words out of your mouth before you walk out of the door.

Game night is essentially canceled. Soonyoung and Joshua rush to meet up with you, so you aren’t alone.

Jeonghan, Minghao, and Mingyu go to the bar with a very upset Seungcheol. The only way he’ll get through the night is if he drinks enough to forget. He knew when you found out about Wonwoo you might take it badly, but he didn’t expect for you to confess you were basically in love with Wonwoo before you got married.

Sitting on Soonyoung’s couch you cry your eyes out telling the boys about what happened. You embarrassingly cry about your missed connection with Wonwoo.

Your mind can’t seem to let go of the thought that you could have been with Wonwoo. You told yourself over a year ago you got over him. You finally moved on and weren’t in love anymore. Why did Seungcheol admitting Wonwoo returned feelings suddenly break your heart? Things with Seungcheol are good, why are you questioning if you should stay married?

Soonyoung holds you close as you cry. “Pinky, I think you should stay here. You and Seungcheol can work this out. But I think you need to figure out what you feel for Wonwoo.”

“Soonyoung is right, I think you need to navigate your feelings for Wonwoo. From what you have said, you were in love with him. Cheol basically gave you emotional whiplash confirming Wonwoo had feelings for you.”

Week one, it feels like a breakup. You find yourself trapped in Soonyoung's guest room at your own volition. You've cried on and off for days. You only leave the room when Soonyoung or Joshua drags you out.

Seungcheol isn't fairing much better. He's found himself at the bottom of a bottle, attempting to drink away his pain. He feels guilty for how everything unfolded between you.

Week three, you're back to working nonstop on writing assignments. You've just thrown yourself into work. You're back to living paycheck to paycheck. You've offered to pay Soonyoung rent for taking up his guest room, but every time he refuses to take any of your money.

This week Seungcheol stopped by Soonyoung's studio to attempt to check on you.

"Cheol why are you here?"

Soonyoung wasn't expecting to see him. Since your "break up" or more so "break" the friend group has been in a state of disarray. Things have seemed to split between everyone. Wonwoo is only speaking to Mingyu. Seungcheol is only seeing Mingyu, Minghao and Jeonghan. You're living with Soonyoung and only seeing him and Joshua. Everyone is aware Jeonghan and Joshua are still seeing each other. The only details Seungcheol has received regarding about you are the things Jeonghan has shared.

"I'm here to see how my wife is doing." Seungcheol sounds like a broken man. He's experienced heartbreak before, but this feels so different.

"Cheol, she's clearly hurt and confused." Soonyoung has done and will do anything to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from the man you've fallen in love with.

"I hate this." Seungcheol sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair.

"Do you think I like this? She's miserable, and clearly you're miserable."

"How is work going for her?" He knows you've gone back to picking up a ton of writing jobs. He's also very aware you haven't been using any of his cards he's given you. He hates that you're going to be struggling to get by again.

"She's always working. She's always on her laptop writing." Soonyoung knows he needs to let Seungcheol know at least some of what is going on with you.

"Are you charging her for rent?"

Soonyoung barks out a bitter laugh. "Fuck you, Cheol. You know I would never ask her for money."

Seungcheol looks down feeling ashamed he even asked. This whole situation is a mess, things feel so tense between him and Soonyoung now. "I'm sorry I asked. I came here to offer you money for taking her in."

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. "Dude she's not a burden. She's fine, she can stay with me as long as she wants."

"God, I just want her back." Seungcheol sighs.

"Yeah, I know Cheol. You just need to give her space. She'll come back to you when she's ready.”

“What if she's never ready?"

"She will be. So give her space."

A month and half in, you still can't kick the aching feeling in your chest. Joshua finally convinced you to have a movie night with him and Soonyoung. You're caught off guard when you find Jeonghan standing in Joshua's kitchen.

"Pinky." Jeonghan smiles the moment he sees you.

"Hannie." Your eyes brim with tears instantly. You've missed him so much.

Jeonghan steps closer to you and pulls you into a hug. You haven’t been seeing all the boys, but you know you've probably destroyed the whole friend group.

Jeonghan releases you and kisses your forehead. "I was tired of you avoiding me. I had to force Shua to let me crash your movie night."

Reaching up you push away your tears that have fallen.

"Pinky, why are you crying?"

"I miss you. I miss what our friend group used to be. I miss—" you want to say your husband's name desperately. You've missed him nonstop since the moment you walked out of your home you had shared.

"We miss you too." He reaches down, brushing away your tears. "He misses you like crazy. He asks me every day if I have heard from you."

Hearing Jeonghan mention Seungcheol makes your chest squeeze. "I miss him too. I'm just still confused."

"That's okay, Pinky."

"Can you tell him I say hi?"

"Of course."

Two months in Seungcheol has reached his breaking point. He's aware his marriage might be over, but even if it is, he wants you to fix things with Wonwoo.

Swallowing his pride he goes to see Wonwoo. He hasn't seen Wonwoo in four months, since that night everyone found out about your marriage. Wonwoo and Mingyu have lived together since college. Mingyu was kind enough to let him know Wonwoo is home.

Knocking on the front door he holds his breath waiting. The door opens, and Wonwoo stares at him looking confused.

"Why are you here?" Wonwoo finally speaks.

"I'm assuming you know Pinky and I are on a break?"

Wonwoo holds the door open and steps aside for Seungcheol to walk in. He walks over and sits on the couch that's placed under the window. Seungcheol sits on the chair across from the couch.

"I know about your break. Mingyu let me know." Wonwoo is just as torn up about your friendship. He's devastated at how things unfolded between the two of you that night. He can still see the way you looked at him.

"That doesn't tell me why you're here Cheol."

"Did Mingyu tell you what happened between us?"

"Nope." He didn't ask any questions. He honestly didn't feel comfortable knowing what happened.

"Well I always knew you were in love with her, but I didn't realize she loved you."

Wonwoo's eyes go wide. He feels like he's been punched in the gut. "What?"

Seungcheol lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands up and down his face. "I didn't realize you both had feelings for each other and it's clear, Pinky has unresolved feelings for you."

"Cheol, I didn't know."

"I know. If I had known— even though I love her Wonwoo, I don't think I would have made a move on her. I thought you were the only one with feelings for her." His voice is shaky, and he sounds as if he's about to fall apart at any moment.

This whole situation is a god damn mess. "Cheol, she doesn't love me anymore. She wouldn't have married you if she did."

"I keep trying to tell myself that."

Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he sits them down on the couch next to him. He pinches his nose taking a deep breath. "What do you want from this conversation?"

Seungcheol isn't sure why he fully came here. To be honest he just wants you and Wonwoo to fix things between you in one way or another. If he loses you to Wonwoo, it might break his heart, but he'll be okay one day if he knows you're happy.

"I just want you back in Pinky's life. I don't care if she picks you, I just want you to be there for her."

Wonwoo leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. "You really love her don't you."

"Wonwoo, I love her so fucking much."

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The front door opens and you hear footsteps approaching. Looking up you find Wonwoo standing there. God you’ve missed seeing him.

He sat down at the table across from you. He paused for a moment. “Your husband came and talked to me. I think he’s right. We should talk. I’m sorry about how things ended last time we talked. ”

“What?” Closing your laptop you knit your brows at him.

“He told me that you’re torn up over not talking to me.”

It's been six months since you last saw him, and the sight of him sitting front of you makes you want to cry.

“Wonwoo, this whole thing is a mess.”

“He also told me that he informed you that I was basically in love with you.”

“I had no clue." There is a twisting feeling in your stomach.

“It’s okay, I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I always just assumed you were in love with Cheol.” It's clear you were oblivious to the affection both boys had for you.

“This whole situation is complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Wonwoo, my brain can’t process the fact I’m fucking married and now I’m finding out you were in love with me.”

“Did you still love me when you went to Vegas?” He asks calmly.

“No.”

“Then why does it matter?”

“Because what if we're supposed to be together?”

It’s the what ifs that are now eating you alive.

“But we aren’t, so why does it matter?”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because you’re literally married, and it’s clear Seungcheol is in love with you. You might not want to admit it, but you love him now.” He reaches out, taking your hand.

“Wonwoo—“

“Do you actually want to be with me? Do you want to give up everything you’ve built with him?”

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what we used to feel.”

“I’m scared of what I have with him. The whole thing has felt like a whirlwind, and we haven’t done anything in the correct order.”

“Don’t be scared. If I didn’t think Seungcheol was good for you, I would have kept pushing for you to end your marriage.”

“It would have been so much easier if we dated first.”

“Then tell him you want to date, before you go back to acting like a married couple. Tell him you need space of your own.”

"Wonwoo."

"Yeah, Pinky?"

"I missed you so much." You can't help but cry.

Wonwoo stands up and walks over to you. He holds his hand out. You grab it as you stand up. Without even thinking you wrap your arms around him holding him close. You cry as he holds you. His large hand runs up and down your back, soothing you.

"Wonwoo how do I fix things with him?"

He pulls away a little. Before leaning anything he leans down and kisses your forehead. "I think it's time you go home to your husband."

˚₊‧꒰ა ⁠♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Soonyoung helps you pack up your stuff and Jeonghan offers to give you a ride to your home you share with Seungcheol. Pulling into the parking garage Jeonghan glances over at you. What if it's been too long and Seungcheol has decided he no longer wants you back.

"Pinky?"

"Huh?"

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah, I broke his heart leaving. What if he's decided he doesn't want me back?"

Jeonghan reaches over unbuckling your seatbelt. "Don't be dumb Pinky, he clearly still wants you. He wouldn't have sent Wonwoo to you if he didn't."

Taking a deep breath you open the door. Jeonghan walks to the back and grabs your two duffle bags. He helps you carry your stuff into the elevator and walks down the hall to the door of the penthouse.

Standing at the door, you pause, it's been two months, should you knock or just walk in? Jeonghan doesn't let you get lost in your thoughts. He puts in the door code and walks in.

Seungcheol is standing in the kitchen when you enter.

"Cheol, I brought your wife back." Jeonghan can't help but smile.

You awkwardly wave, "hi, Cheol."

"Hi, baby." Him calling you baby instantly makes you smile. Jeonghan takes your back from you and heads off the master bedroom. You and Seungcheol don't say anything for a moment. It's almost as if you're both waiting for your time alone so you can talk.

Jeonghan comes back into the entry way. "I'm going to leave you guys alone. I'm going to go get dinner with Shua."

The front door locks and Seungcheol holds out his hand. Without even thinking you take his hand. He leads you off to the dining room. He pulls out a chair and you sit down. He sits down across from you. This all feels so weird.

You break the screaming silence that has formed between you. "Wonwoo came to see me."

"I know."

"He told me it shouldn't matter that we had a missed connection. I wasn't in love with him when we got married, and even if I'm afraid to admit it, I'm in love with you."

Seungcheol can't help but smile at the fact you're admitting you love him. "You love me?"

"Yeah I do, and because I love you, it shouldn't matter that I missed what could have been between me and Wonwoo."

Seungcheol reaches across the table and laces his fingers with yours. "Pinky, I love you, and I haven't stopped, even while you were gone."

"That's good, because I want to work on our marriage."

He squeezes your hand. "You wanna stay married?"

"Yeah I do."

He can't help it when his eyes brim with tears. When he sent Wonwoo to see you, he had given up all hope that things would stay the same with you two. "I missed you so much, baby."

"I missed you too."

Seungcheol stands up and you do the same. He walks over to you, and pulls you into his chest. Pulling back you look up at him. Without a second thought he crashes his lips into yours for a desperate kiss. He hasn't seen you in months and every part of his body and soul has craved you. He never wants to go even a day without talking to you.

Pulling away a little he smiles down at you. "I have a request."

"What's that baby?" He'll do anything you could possibly ask him to.

"We can still be married, but can we act like we're dating. I feel like we skipped so many steps and I want to experience what it's like to date you."

He gives you a big smile. "We can absolutely do that."

Ten months later you find yourself preparing to walk down the aisle for an official wedding with your husband. Things have gone back to normal with your friend group. This time when you're getting married all your family and friends are here.

Your bridal party consists of Soonyoung as your man of honor. The rest of your bridal party is a mix of Minghao's girlfriend, Joshua, and your cousin. Seungcheol's best man is obviously Jeonghan, he was very serious when he threatened to make you a widow when Seungcheol joked about picking someone else with him. His groomsmen are Mingyu, Minghao, and Wonwoo.

Wonwoo managed to sneak off and met up with you, Soonyoung and Joshua. All three boys doted on you telling you on and on about how beautiful you look.

Walking down the aisle you immediately cry at the sight of Seungcheol waiting for you. Your wedding is everything you've ever dreamed of. It's not some crazy lavish event, it's the perfect wedding for you. The one expensive Seungcheol fought you on, was paying for the dress of your dreams.

Your vows are perfect, Seungcheol lights up as he's told to kiss the bride. Your kiss is dramatic, he dips you, kissing you in a grand fashion. Friends and family cheer applauding.

The reception feels like a blur. It's the perfect party, Seungcheol made a big deal about multiple open bars, and having it in a big venue for all your friends and family to party.

The ceiling above the dance floor is draped in sparkling twinkle lights. The song you picked for your first dance plays. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as you sway to the beat of the music. There isn’t some grand choreo, it’s just the two of you lost in the moment in the middle of the dance floor. All eyes are on you, but the only thing you can focus on is Seungcheol.

"I love you," He says just loud enough for you to say.

"I love you too."

You might have had an untraditional start, but the only thing that matters is you ended up here.

[belovedgyu]

better together || choi seungcheol

⚬ pairing: choi seungcheol x fem! reader ⚬ word count: 8k ⚬ genres: uni au, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, v romantic (might be one of my fav things ive written in a while) ⚬ warnings: mentions of food, spice/nsfw mentions and smut - filth, filth filth, minor spit play, spanking, they fawk sideways lol and other mature themes MDNI credits to @strangergraphics for the beautiful dividers as always <3

<3 synopsis: you take one for the team when you allow your friend to bail on you last minute for a date with her dream guy thinking that playing cupid might amass you at least some good karma - not knowing that the said good karma comes with a loaded bank balance, buff arms and wearing a merch of your favorite band.

<3 songs recommended - better together by jack johnson - kingston by faye webster (!!!) - everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears - cruel summer by taylor swift

author's note: part of my valentine's day event, lmk if you'd want to be tagged :) p.s. - all these fics come with a lil letter hehe, here's one for u!

seungcheol's love letter for @nerdycheol and to whoever is reading.

dear you, you and i both know the pleasure of a good company more than anyone. it is how we fall in love, don't we? spending time with the ones we love— doing fun things sometimes and just existing in the silent presence the others. This valentine's, i promise to make sure that every moment, when it comes to us, counts. Let me choose you in the small ways…in unhurried conversations, in drives that lead nowhere, in hours that slip by unnoticed because we were together. Not because you need me, but because love, at its gentlest, is two people deciding not to rush past each other.

yours in every moment that you need me, and even more in the ones that you don't,

cheol <3

"So sorry babe," Keira extends a freshly brewed cup of latte with a flower-heart foam design on top towards you. Her smile is painfully soft and her cheeks pinched with pink embarrassment as she offers, sheepishly, "This one's on the house."

"Kei, I told you, don't feel apologetic!" You wave your hand frantically, accepting the cup full of sugary, frothy goodness made by your friend.

You try to pay for the coffee, but Keira does not relent. Somehow, you manage to slip a five dollar bill in the tips jar.

You take a quick sip of the beverage, smiling and nodding at Keira who disappears to the back to prepare the next orders, before grabbing a bunch of napkins and leaving the campus coffee-house with your lab-partner Fiona.

Beside you, Fiona scrunches her brows in confusion. "What was that about?"

"Nothing much," you inform her, "I won these tickets at this giveaway last month, it's for this new girl-group Kei and I are obsessed with, 'Lunaris'. We were planning on going together but she has a date with Mingyu that night."

Fiona huffs, "Well, that sucks… what are you going to do now?"

"I'm thinking of selling them online because I just can't find someone to go with me." You shrug, acting like it doesn't hurt. But the way you quickly sip the scalding concoction of fine-ground coffee and coconut sugar, it is enough for Fiona to see that you're trying your best not to pout at this situation.

"Oh honey…I know how much you love that group."

"I do," you sigh, adjusting your bag bulging with Ethics notes over your shoulder. "But I love Keira too and I don't want her to feel more guilty than she already is by complaining about it. I want her to have fun on their first date."

Fiona nods in agreement for she, just like the rest of the campus, doesn't know anything about the elusive barista of the coffee house apart from her very publicly known crush on Kim Mingyu. She has seen how Keira's world tips over in his direction every time he is around or how just last term, when he walked into the coffee-house and complimented the espresso she made for him, Keira's cheeks gave the strawberries on her apron a run for their money. She can see just why Keira would give up going to a concert with her friend over a date with someone she has been pining over for years now.

At the same time, she can't help but feel bad for you.

"Why don't you sell just one of the tickets instead of selling them both?" Fiona suggests, beaming like a light-bulb just flipped in her head, "that way, you'll have someone to go with you!"

"Uhh…I don't know how I feel about going to a concert with a stranger, Fi." You grimace.

Fiona clucks her tongue, incredulous and annoyed, "Dude, you go to concerts to befriend strangers over your shared interests. That's the whole point of them."

You gnaw at your lower lip, giving her suggestion a thought as the classroom around you begins filling up with students. The coffee cup in your hand isn't hot to touch anymore as you bring it to your lips, letting the sweet steam settle over your nose. It is almost Valentine's and though you never care for things of the nature, it wouldn't be so bad to at least try to meet somebody new in this blossoming month of pink hearts and red roses.

Just before the professor walks in and as the TA starts handing out the day's worksheets, you pull your phone out to put a story on your public account: "Hey! I got a spare ticket for the Lunaris concert next weekend. Anyone interested? Please DM!! :)"

You place your phone screen-side down on the table for the next two hours and pray to the Gods of the internet's mockery and mirth that the story you just posted doesn't come across as too miserable to the viewers.

No one texts you the entire day the story is up and you're beginning to lose hope. Seriously? Does no one have good music taste anymore?

You watch the story disappear in front of your very eyes at the same lecture the next day, not sure on what should you be more dejected over—the fact that you couldn't convince any one of your two-thousand odd followers to go with you or the fact that you're too proud to post another story about selling two tickets now.

Maybe you should just let it go and allow the two seats remain empty at the arena. You squash down the ridiculous thought of one of the girls of the band noticing and feeling sad about the vacant seats at the show—but you do file in the possibility of that happening…and it saddens you enough that your breathing turns a little emptier.

You tuck your chin over your folded palms, thinking hard about what to do with the two nosebleeds seats at the concert of your beloved group that might go to waste.

Sighing, you flip through your notes mindlessly. You're never one to check your screen in between lectures, but today, there's this queasiness in you that is making it harder and harder for you to focus. You grip the pages more firmly.

Focus, you tell yourself, you will figure something out.

But there's only so much determination that you can harbor in your humble body, so when your Professor goes on another tangent about how the words of Nietzsche are relevant to some profound experience of hers on her recent trip to Indonesia, you give up and scroll through your texts.

Surprisingly, there's a new message from an unknown sender that popped up on your screen some ten minutes ago. You tap it open.

Unknown: Hi! I am sorry if I am too late but a buddy told me you were selling tickets to the Lunaris concert and gave me your number…is the offer still up?

You stare at the text, wondering if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Why didn't this person DM you on Instagram? What friend?

Doesn't matter, you decide.

Because there is a person in your DMs, who—by the grammar and the syntax — seems human and a decent one at that (apologies and all).

'hi :) i am not selling the ticket, i just happen to have a free, spare one and…' you begin to type out before backspacing through it in a go.

What the fuck? You can definitely extort this situation in your advantage…whoever this is clearly has no idea that your tickets are free!

You type out a new message instead.

You: hello :) You: yes, the offer is still up but a few others have reached out to me so idk for how long 😬

The reply comes almost instantly

Unknown: Oh, is that so? Unknown: Well, it's totally your call but I would love to attend the concert, truly. I'm ready to give you whatever you ask for!

You: OMG u seem like such a big fan! You: well, i'm not asking for much, just what the ticket costed me, yk >.<

Unknown: And that would be…?

You bite your lip hard, quickly opening a google tab to research how much does a Lunaris ticket costs on average.

And then, you add fifty dollars to it.

You: Just around $300 dollars :)

You feel stupid once you hit send, three-hundred dollars for nose-bleeds, really?

But it seems like the person texting you isn't the sharpest tool in the shed either, at least if you judge the said sharpness by his prompt reply.

Unknown: Awesome, I'm ready to pay right now.

Woah.

For a moment, a sense of guilt grips you. Should you really be taking advantage of someone like this?

The next text you receive helps answer that question.

Unknown: It's Choi Seungcheol btw.

Now, you regret not asking for more.

Choi Seungcheol, arguably the richest brat on the campus, is apparently a Lunaris super-fan.

Now you're not someone who fancies drawing boxes around people. But the idea of him—all Rolex studded wrists and Ralph Lauren sweaters—swaying bright pink banners at Lunaris or dancing in their glittery crowd while belting the words 'caught you glancin across the room! my heart's a rocket baby watch it zoom!' is almost an AI- generated sloppy image in your head.

You try to bite your lips, waiting outside your dorm where he said he'd meet you to pick you up an hour before the concert. As January overturns into the month of shared cups of cocoa and sappy rom-coms, the wind carries the last hush of winter shyly, almost as if it conspires with the seasons to push couples further closer to each other's body heat. You shiver even with a jacket on.

Well, to be fair, it's not much of a jacket, just another layer of faux leather with a careful length and fit to show off the deliberate neckline of your very backless, bright yellow top. But at least you have your denims on, so no frosty knees for you tonight.

You wait some more, tapping your heels impatiently against the gravel and feeling slightly disrespected at his three-minute delay. You're about to send him a scathing text in a tone that you've only reserved for Uber drivers who complicate directions for you when the unmistakable whirring of a sleek engine and polished wheels rolling smooth over the asphalt catches your attention.

You recognize the black Bentley of the college's heartthrob and instantly perk up, already imagining the sigh you're going to let out once the warmth of his car cushions your bare skin. He slows down in front of you and you wait to see what expensive sweater in what shade of navy or black will greet you when the door opens.

But he surprises you by getting out of the driver seat in a pink hoodie unzipped to show the white tshirt that beams with the logo of Lunaris peeking underneath. He walks towards you with a cheery smile, reaching to open the door for you and just when he's about to say something, you beat him to it.

"You have their merch!" you almost shout, an accusing finger pointed at the logo on his chest.

"Uh, yeah," he answers you like you just offended him big time.

This guy just spent three-hundred dollars on a single nosebleed seat for the concert, what's thirty more for a t-shirt?

Still, you gape. "Woah, so you are actually a real fan."

He pauses for a moment, still holding his car door open for you as he blinks, incredulous.

"Why else would I be here practically skipping over my own feet?"

"I don't know man," you shrug, "for all I know, you could be pranking the sad lonely girl who has no one to go to a concert with."

You slip into his passenger seat, immediately feeling cozier than you do in your dorm bed when the soft leather of it presses against your thighs.

"Wait, didn't you say there were people lining up in your DMs for those tickets?" Seungcheol immediately catches your slip-up.

You pretend that the Google Maps on your phone are collapsing and etching new paths right in front of your eyes to avoid looking at him. But your cheeks heat up, your ears ringing a little with a jingle that goes 'uh-oh' again and again.

You recover quickly, buckling your seatbelt in, "I mean…people asked. 'Lining up' is a strong phrase."

He hums, clearly unconvinced, but doesn't push it. Instead, he pulls your door shut and circles back to the driver's seat, hoodie strings bouncing as he goes and you realize that they have little pink pom-poms attached to the ends of them. Ridiculous.

When he settles behind the wheel, he shoots you a sideways glance, lips twitching.

"So," he says, starting the engine, "I'm assuming I ranked above these 'people' who asked?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Don't flatter yourself too much, I only chose you because you were practically begging me to."

"Fair." He hums, "I can't help it, I'm too fond of them."

"You're too rich too…if you're such a fan, why couldn't you afford the tickets yourself?" You feel like you're gaining an upper hand in this game of 'aha, I caught you!' that the two of you have been subconsciously playing.

Seungcheol hitches for a moment. "Well I was busy with….stuff, and the tickets always sell out at the speed of light."

"Fair." You mimic him, somewhat satisfied by his answer yet still not fully convinced.

All of this seems too good to be true—his eagerness to grab the obviously over-priced tickets, his insistence on driving with you, his…paraphernalia…which honestly seems too performative the more you look at it.

Maybe he's just too much of an honest fan and that's what irks you more because you've followed the girls since their debut and you're yet to acquire one of their merch. Meanwhile Mr. Rich Guy beside you already has his scent mingled in one.

So not only does he have the goodies, he has the passion too?

The rest of the drive, you quiz Seungcheol on everything Lunaris. You start off small, 'Favorite album? Why?' before quickly picking up heat with the 'what composer of theirs do they not work with anymore? What was the beef?'

And much to your dismay, he gets them all right.

Fuck.

You're so jealous of him—of his stupid car, of its sleek leather seats, of the expensive oak-moss scent that infiltrates your senses, of the shirt on his chest…By the time you reach the concert venue, you've already hatched a plan of robbing him tonight if he pisses you off once more.

The bass thumps loud outside, making you feel the vibrations on your very seats as Seungcheol parks the car. You can see the bright, neon-pink beams flashing in arches as the line outside begins to thicken. You try to gulp down the nerves that are bunching up in your throat, trying to focus more on the mellow orange of the setting sun more than the metal bars of the high stage that are visible to you.

The same stage that will soon be occupied by Vee, Katie, Lucy, Tia and Madz—the girls you've only ever obsessed and giggled over on screen.

You will be seeing them live today…in front of your own eyes…breathing the same air of the same arena while watching the same sunset—NO. You squeeze your eyes shut, realizing you're so unprepared for this.

"Excited?" Seungcheol's annoyingly cheery voice disrupts this surreal moment of epiphany for you.

"Cheol," you whisper, staring off in a distance as though you've been shell-shocked. "Turn the car back."

The guy beside you hitches, killing the engine off with broken movements.

"What?" He frowns, "Are you for real?"

"I can't face them…I can't—" Your grip your knees, squeezing your eyes shut again. The material of your jeans turns damp under your sweaty palms.

"Oh come on!" You can hear the pout in his voice, "don't be like this now."

"You don't get it," you shake your head, debating dramatically running a hand through your hair but then deciding against it because it did take you a whole hour to style it a certain away. You choose to scratch your forehead instead. "This is like…this is like ordering the extra hot ramen at Ichiran…you wanted it, but now you're scared you can't handle the heat."

"Uh, okay…wow, fascinating metaphor—"

"Simile."

"Yeah, that. But also, come on now, you've been looking forward to this for months."

"I know," you whine, pushing your face into your hands, "this is too real."

You know you're being unreasonable because the more you hesitate here, the more the crowd grows outside. But you're thankful that Seungcheol doesn't mention it, and that he doesn't get impatient with you. Rather, he reaches forward to caress your shoulder, not sensually, not to indicate hurry, but with this strange softness that does help you ease a bit.

"Would it feel better if I hold your hand through it?" He offers.

You don't know if it will, but what's the harm in trying?

You peer up at him through your lashes when you whisper, embarrassingly slow. "Would you mind the fact that my palms are sweatier than a marathon runner's armpits right now?"

He looks at you, his lips stretched thin as he considers your words with this expression of utmost seriousness. You think he's about to calling you disgusting or scoot as far as you as possible when he removes his hand from your shoulder. But, the very next moment, he reaches forward in the car's glove box and pulls out something in his other hand, then, he grabs your palm and beams that disarming smile at you, "Well, good thing I got tissues."

You'd be lying if you said that for a brief moment, you hadn't absolutely despised Keira when she showed up at your dorm with a tray of muffins and a sorry smile a week ago. As happy as you were helping her choose the perfect red dress for her date, you couldn't brush off the feeling that you'd be happier had you been helping her pick out an outfit for your concert date instead.

Though now, after two whole hours of jumping and dancing with Seungcheol as he holds your hand tight, the weight of his fingers so steady and secure around your clammy palm, you don't feel the lack of your girl friend's presence even a bit.

Your seats are too far from the stage to a point that even the projector is a small, square screen flashing unclear images of the girls on stage. But you don't mull over that…because when you scream along with the lyrics, Seungcheol screams too—equally unashamed when both of yours' voices crack on the high notes.

At one point, he lifts the lightstick you purchased just outside the venue so enthusiastically that it nearly smacks you in the forehead, and you laugh so hard that you almost miss the opening of your favorite song. Almost.

Because as soon as it comes on, Seungcheol quickly reminds you to focus and pulls his phone out to take several videos of that segment. You too, take a small video, just one clip of him singing 'caught you glancin across the room! my heart's a rocket baby watch it zoom!' with the pom-poms on his hoodie-strings bopping along with the chorus.

Somewhere between the sixth song and the confetti cannons, you realize something quietly important…you're not as opposed to the company of a random rich kid of your campus as much as you thought you were. Right now, you're not the self proclaimed lonely girl scamming people to spend the valentine's week with her. Right now, he's not the stupid super-fan with a shitload of money in his hand walking straight into your trap. You're both just there. Two bodies singing and dancing—sometimes in sync, sometimes offensively off tune and slamming into each others only to break into random fits of giggles. And despite all the odd circumstances that led to this evening, you find yourself not wanting to change it, even in the slightest bit.

The two of you also make friends with the people around you, especially when the official set-list is over and you're about to leave after half the encore to avoid traffic.

"Oh my God, your boyfriend is so sweet!" A girl from your left remarks, her face as flushed as yours from all the dancing and jumping as you wait for Seungcheol to get you another water-bottle. "Mine kept on scrolling through his phone throughout the concert."

"He's not my—" You begin, only to be interrupted by the said assumed boyfriend returning with a bottle of water and another full of juice.

"Hey, hold this." He hands you the drinks before shimmying off his hoodie and wrapping it over you.

You almost protest it, but the warmth that engulfs you is so calming that it slows your entire blood-flow down. A deep sigh escapes your lips, you hadn't realized how harsh the evening gusts had been on your skin until he cocooned you into his loaned-out comfort. His pink hoodie is unimaginably gentle on your skin, just like how he has been throughout today. You wordlessly slip your hands into it and he automatically reaches for your half-covered fingers when you're done, leading you out of the venue while making sure no one bumps into you in the dazed, spent crowd.

You don't know why you agree when he asks if you want to get some fast-food in the drive-through of a local diner—you don't even feel hungry!

But when he hands you the large strawberry milkshake, topped with thick cream and infused with fresh crushed berries along with a giant bag of greasy fries and burgers after thanking the server, you find yourself ripping the largest chunks of the meaty delicacy with your teeth over and over again without even chewing the mouthful.

The watery ketchup smears your fingers and the corner of your mouth, bothering you a little. You frown at the discomfort, too lazy to put the food down and do something about it. But Seungcheol notices it, because he shakes his head with a small laugh while you blabber on and on about your favorite segments of the show, and reaches forward with a napkin to dab your skin clean.

You let him, thinking it's such a small, kind gesture. But the moment his fingers leave the corner of your lips, you find yourself craving the press of them more than anything you've ever wanted before.

You're sipping the last of your milkshake, eating the whipped cream and fruit with a spoon when he gives in to your request of playing the videos he took of the concert.

To your surprise, all of them are of you instead of the performers on stage.

You whine about it, telling him how stupid and ugly you look screaming with your eyes popping out of your skull in each one of them. He ignores you, insisting that it's cute before playing the next one.

"You know," you say, running your finger inside the cup to collect the cream off its side and pop it into your mouth, "I never pegged you for a Lunaris fan."

He pockets his phone back into his pocket, "Well, I never pegged you for a scammer, but here we are."

Your finger jerks inside your mouth, your nail digging into your tongue at the embarrassment of being caught. Shyly, you slip it out. "You knew?"

He sighs, turning the radio up just slightly as if this isn't the point where he's about to kick you out of his car or at least demand his money back.

But he only smiles, his eyes shining soft under the moonlight. "Come on, I'm not that dense. Those seats were horrendous."

"Why did you play along?"

You're gaping now, your breaths a little shallow like that of a sly cat that has just been caught stealing off a feast.

Seungcheol only chuckles, reaching forward with his thumb to wipe something off your bottom lip. The whipped cream. He then brings it to his own mouth, sucking the sweetness off of it before answering.

"Because I wanted to."

"That's not an answer," you insist, "Why?"

Seungcheol takes a deep breath, looking down as he briefly rubs the back of his neck. "Would you think it's weird if I said that it's cause I wanted to be with you?"

You blink at him, brain buffering like it's just been handed a pop-quiz you absolutely did not study for.

"Be with me?" you repeat, dumbly, because those words are so unbelievably dreamy that they need a second lap to make sense.

He nods innocently, eagerly. There's a nervous smile tugging at his lips now, preventing it from growing too much or dropping altogether.

"I've liked you…for quite some time now." He leans closer, voice quiter, more sincere now. "I've seen you around the campus—in the library when you're studying with a single earbud in; at the coffee-house when you're complaining to the barista about having to study ethics as a computer-science major even though you're the one who enrolled in that class in the first place. You're too present, yet too elusive."

He didn't look up at first, but when he did, it hit you—that honest softness in his eyes. That unmistakable honesty of his words. You notice the slight tremble in his bottom lip when he licks it or how his voice shakes ever so slightly around your name, almost as if he's carefully choosing what words to associate with the idea of you.

"I always find my attention drifting towards you, even when I'm surrounded by people." He says, "and I felt like I knew so much about you already, but didn't know you at all. So when the opportunity presented itself, I took it without any complains."

When he watches you intently, you realize just how flustered you are to function. Your mouth is ajar and your lashes can't hold still—like if you blinked enough, this dizzying haze will clear up and you'll wake up from some dream without him, without the music that is still humming in your bones, without the sweetness that is still coating your tongue.

But this evening is real.

He is real.

The clasp of his hand over yours and how easily your fingers slotted against his own, this confession—unhurried and deep, like the calmest ocean…it is all real.

"You could've…you could've just approached me on campus if you wanted to know me." You say, biting your cheek when you realize just how fleeting and stupid that response is to his heartfelt revelation.

He smiles slowly. "I could, but then I wouldn't have gotten the chance to dance with you, scream those stupid words with you…I wouldn't have choked on confetti while you laughed, patting me on the back."

You stifle a laughter at the memory of that.

"Be honest, Cheol, do you even like Lunaris?"

He leans back, putting some distance between you both like he's afraid you might swat him.

"Hadn't even heard about them before your story."

You gasp, "Seriously? You…you learned all those facts about them, their discography—"

"All in three days," he affirms, "yep. Though I did have a little help from someone."

"So you endured all that, just to spend some time with me?"

You can't help the moisture that is beginning to form behind your lids. Thankfully, it's not something you can't sniffle away, but your nose does turn pink.

"I endured all that just to spend some quality time with you," he corrects you, reaching forward to boop your blushing nose, "and see you get all pink when you're flustered and overwhelmed."

For some time, neither of you speaks. The silence between you doesn't feel heavy with tension, but saturated with the heady presence of all that has been said. You allow it to seep into your skull, making you lightheaded.

Before you even know it, the space between the two of you begins growing shorter and shorter, almost like the world is folding in on you two.

Or maybe you're just leaning in.

Just when the song on the radio changes to Kingston by Faye Webster, your lips collide in tandem with the first romantic dip of the song.

You kiss Seungcheol to the sweet honesty of the words 'the day that I met you, I started dreaming'. His lips brush against yours in a practiced rhythm, coaxing you with sweet kisses to open up more. And when you do, he angles his mouth deeper to taste the lingering sweetness of the milkshake on your tongue. One of his hands stations at your waist, actively pulling you towards him while the other cradles your face, his thumb drawing circles over the little hearts you had drawn with your eyeliner on your cheekbones for the concert.

Your own fingers are lost in the thick, midnight tresses of his hair, tugging at it simply because you enjoy the sounds he makes into your mouth when you do that.

One of the windows is cracked open to let the fresh air in. Yet, the air around you grows hotter and damper with need the more you part yourself open for him to ravage.

It's almost steam—his breath on your face. There's these waves of heat, pulsating and unfurling inside of you and making you want to take all your clothes off. You begin by shimmying off his hoodie first, your jacket soon follows suit—all while you make sure to keep your lips on him. That's how eager…no, that's how hungry you are for him.

His fingers shiver when they skim over the naked expanse of your back and he groans in your mouth at the sheer sexiness of your form as you press yourself into him more and more over the console.

Your chest crushes against his rock-hard one when he lets loose over his self-control and just tug you closer to him, his fingers no longer shy as they dig deep into your flesh with possession. When he sucks at your bottom lip, you feel an answering tug in your nipples. There's a burning sensation in your lower belly, pooling all the way down to your core each time he grunts your name between the kisses and presses sloppy ones over your jaw, your neck, your cheek…any skin that he can find.

Your entire body is aching for his touch, the pain of it all making your core weep as you begin squirming at the growing wetness between your legs.

Like a true sadist, he chooses that exact moment to break the kiss, pulling apart from a gasping, writhing mess that is your swollen, flushed body.

"We can't…not here, not like this." He says and you immediately pout, trying to give him your glassiest, most pleading eyes. He winces at the sight, adding quickly, "My place?"

You're too disoriented to form a coherent thought, so you just nod.

Throughout the ten minute drive from the diner's parking lot to his house, there's a million things that you want to tell him. 'I don't always sleep with guys on the first date itself' being top of that list. But the intensity of that kiss, that sweet torture of it, has rendered your thoughts groundless.

You feel like all your words are floating in an abyss somewhere inside of you, bursting into little heart-shaped explosions of his name the more his knuckles brush your thigh when he shifts the gear or when you inhale and with it, in comes the lingering scent of him on your lips.

When he parks his car and opens your door, pulling you into his arms in a swift tug and making you secure your legs around his waist while his lips press soft, reverent kisses all across your collarbones, you feel like you don't need to do any explaining to him. That he wouldn't think any different of you even if you sleep with him tonight. Besides, the anguish in every inch of your body begging to be sated by his addicting touch blurs the rules of modern dating in your mind.

He somehow manages to push both of yours entangled bodies inside his house, kicking the door shut with his heavy boot while you whimper in his mouth, sucking in short, ragged breaths.

"Just hang on baby," he says when you whine for the n-th time like you can't believe he didn't take you right there on the floor by his front-door.

His fingers slip inside the back-pockets of your jeans and he pulls you further in while taking you up the stairs. It's only a single layer that is decreased between his fingers and your skin, but it makes you burn nonetheless.

"You're such a fucking mess already," he coos, biting down hard on your skin, "what am I gonna do with you?"

"Fuck me, perhaps?" You grab his face, letting your nails dig deep into his jaw as you make out with him.

He presses you against a wall to let you cool that heat off, but the more you grind on the growing tent in his jeans, the more it riles you up.

"Oh I will fuck you," he promises, "thoroughly, at that."

Seungcheol doesn't even care shutting the door of his bedroom. He simply pushes you down onto his mattress and leans down as if sucked in by your gravity.

For a few moments, he doesn't kiss you or touch you, just watches you with wild, blown out eyes as if you're some miracle personified with twitching limbs and soaked, swollen lips.

He watches just how beautiful your hair looks sprawled on his light blue sheets which only looks like the vast stretch of the dawn sky under your sun. How your fluttering fingers graze his body with just the soft tips of them like the first of sunlight kissing Earth.

The thin strap of your slinky top has already slipped off one of your shoulders, almost revealing the soft curve of your breast to his hungry eyes. You dig your hips deeper into his mattress one moment but then in the next one, you're arching up to him…you just can't stop writhing.

And that wrecked state of you is a sight for sore eyes. His sore eyes.

He lets his eyes sweep across your skin as it glows with a gossamer silver sheen of the moonlight streaming in from his open window one last time.

You look ethereal, you look celestial, you look divine.

Even in the dark of this night, you—with all your gilded beauty—are nothing less than a: "Ray of sunshine." he mumbles, not caring for how dumb and cheeky that sounds. "You're like the first ray of sunshine…elevating everything you touch."

With that, he dives in to capture your lips again. This time, the kiss is short-lived, but no less passionate. In fact, when he leaves your lips with a wet smack, you feel the room spin around you. He travels lower, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses on your skin as he goes. One of his palms takes advantage of it when you arch off the bed as he licks your naval, and he slips it under your spine to undo the sole knot keeping your racy top in place, the fingers of his free hand are already working on buttons of your jeans.

As he slides the fabric off your legs, you help him out by discarding your top before tugging at the hem of his t-shirt—the one with the smiling faces of all members of Lunaris who just saw you get naked.

He pulls it off for you, taking his sweet time to run his fingers through his disheveled hair to allow you to gawk at the hard ridges of his abs.

"Fuck…you're gorgeous." You admit, more to yourself than to him.

"I work hard," he laughs, but you don't miss the underlying gratitude in it.

Your fingers trace the defined lines, feeling how his taut muscles flex under his skin. In return, he crushes your nipple a tad too hard between his fingers and his thumb.

"Ow!" you squeal, smacking at his chest. That only motivates him to grab both of your soft mounds, give them a generous squeeze before teasing them with his tongue in alternative motions until you're pulling at his hair, begging for mercy.

He grants you some pity, but only for a few short-lived moments because the very next, he's gripping your hips on either sides and flipping you over in one, swift motion.

"S-Seungcheol…" you stutter, stabilizing your balance on one arm and pushing your tousled hair off your face with the other as he adjusts your knees to a width of his liking.

He admires your form when you're arching by running his eager palms all over the vulnerable expanse of your stretched body. Then, he squeezes your waist almost as if searing his claim on you.

Who could've predicted that the guy blushing as he confessed his crush for you in his car after spending the whole evening dancing to the cheesiest pop-songs would be this bossy in bed?

But Seungcheol is brimming with dominance—you feel it in the weight of his calloused palms as he adjusts you like you're a toy, his toy. You feel that dominance, that claim, in the cold of his metal chain which pools over the back of your neck when he leans in to push your hair to a side and kiss your temple. You feel it in his words when he guides you to let him put a pillow under your hips.

"You're so hot baby," he says, his knuckles running against the curve of your spine, "spread out and bent over, all open for me. Look at you, dripping already."

A nervous quiver jolts through your entire body when he rips your panties open.

"Oops," he chuckles, "you ruined them so much I figured you wouldn't need them after all."

Despite all the gloss that he ruined and spread all over them, your lips feel too dry. The duality of the boy you're surrendering all your control to is already nerve-wrecking, so the fact that you can't see his face to at least predict what he's about to do next…is devastating.

"Cheol…" you beg. For what? You don't know.

"Yes, baby?" he replies, his lips hovering above your spine. He places a kiss there, soft and wet, before proceeding to kiss you between your shoulders.

"I'm cold," you whisper, unable to suppress your shivers anymore.

"Then let me warm you up, my ray." He says, shortening the earlier nickname he had given you with such stricken reverence.

You brace yourself by digging your nails into your arms for the inevitable pressure of this position. But that force never comes, what you feel instead is something far worse—the wet warmth of his tongue licking at your weeping folds from behind and a guttural moan that follows like he just couldn't help it.

"Cheol!" You yelp, doubling over.

You instinctively try to squeeze your legs shut, your knees and hips digging harder over the mattress. But with his strong grip over your thighs, he keeps you open for his ministrations. He eats you out like a savage man, sucking at your bundle of nerves and spitting at your fluttering hole before diving in to lick it clean.

Your head swims at not just the sheer intensity of pleasure, but also the shame that comes along with the awareness of just how vulnerable you are to him. Surrendered and taken. Too open, too visible.

Tears begin streaming down your face as you find yourself reveling in this shame and wanting more of it, rather than hiding away. You press your hot face deep into the mattress, just as he presses his own harder against your cunt. He's practically making out with your nether lips, his tongue flirting with your sensitive nub, his teeth grazing at the soft flesh of your thighs from behind. You feel his nose nudge against your opening, and it is a sensation unlike anything you've felt before.

"You're doing good babe," he pants, not even bothering removing his lips away from you as he makes you arch more, "such a pretty little thing…so sweet."

His tongue rubs circles over your clit while his palms grip the flesh of your ass to spread your folds open for him. It doesn't take much for you to start bucking against the pillow he put under you. And when one of his punishing hands come down hard over the supple curve of your ass to spank you, you scream into the bed, spasming as you come undone on his tongue.

He continues to suck the sweet nectar out of you until your knees threaten to give out. And when they do, he doesn't force you back up. Your chest heaves as you manage to turn around on your side, the pillow still tangled between your thighs that feel like jello while your upper body weighs down heavy with need for his touch as you watch him wipe the glistening evidence of what just happened from his lips with the back of his palm.

"Ready for round two?" He smirks, beginning to unbuckle his belt.

You're too enamored by the sight of him undressing to register what he just said. When he's stripped bare of his denims and his boxers, and all the hard, enormous length of him is visible for your wide eyes, he gives your thigh a harsh slap. "I asked you a question."

You suck in a sharp breath at the delicious sting, not knowing what the question was but nodding regardless. You'd do just about anything for him at this point.

He nods, tearing on a silver plastic wrapper with his teeth and rolling a condom over himself.

"Good," He says, holding you still on your side when you begin to turn over on your back, "no, stay like this."

Your brows knit in confusion only to arch up in surprise when he lifts one of your legs, kisses your ankle before throwing it over his shoulder and begins nudging himself against your hole. If you felt like the earlier position was an overwhelmingly vulnerable one, this one makes it seem modest and shy.

You mumble a quick thanks to God for the biweekly Yoga classes you still remember to take even during your busy schedules.

You're stretched out open for him as he slots his entire body between your legs at an angle that allows you no room to clench them shut. The back of your thigh feels soft against his chiseled abdomen and you try to focus on that sensory pleasure instead of the maddening split you feel at your apex when he begins pushing in.

"Seungcheol," you sob, and he isn't even fully in.

By the time he's flush against you, your knuckles are turning white clutching the duvet. His breathing is sharp and uneven, the grunts that he tries his best to suppress slip out regardless as you flutter around him.

"God, you're tight." He says, "tell me that I'm not hurting you…please baby."

"You're not," you quickly shake your head, gasping for air and so stuffed full, "please, just move."

"Sure 'bout that?" He asks, slipping out regardless, slowly…too slowly.

"Yesss!" you hiss, your head limping back when he only moves out halfway before slamming back in.

He repeats that motion a few times—slow and deep, just to get you used to the position, to his size and the power that his body exerts over yours.

Once the tension of your body fades and you feel moulded enough against him, he picks the pace up. His strokes grow longer and more angled as he hunts for your sweet spot with careful, calculated motions of his hips. One of his hands remains clutching your trembling leg and he occasionally places kisses against your calf. His other one travels down to fondle your neglected breasts, pinching them, squeezing them when they bounce wild each time he gets too harsh.

Throughout it all, you continue blubbering his name like a broken record, sometimes tugging at your own hair, sometimes gripping onto his forearm as he plays with your body.

His knees bracket your tilted body, keeping you in place as he dives deeper and deeper and when after a particularly thrust you jerk like you are some naked wire with electric shots zapping across every single inch of your wet body, he knows he has hit jackpot.

"This one? This one right here?" He taunts as he continues to abuse that spot to see more of that same wide-eyed, limp mouthed reaction from you.

And you do give him just that, over and over again until you feel all sensations shrinking inside your body into a little ball of lust and heat in your lower belly.

His fingers move from your breasts to grip your neck as he begins plummeting inside you, sensing your release close. Bending forward, and nearly folding you in half, he chokes you lightly, making stars explode behind your eyes with all this cruel overstimulation.

You scream out so loud that you can't even recognize it comes from you when you burst around him in waves, spasming and clenching around him over and over until it subsides. He rocks your body gently, guiding you a little down from your high by letting your listless leg fall off his shoulder.

He remains inside you though, and as fucked out as you are, you don't miss the hardness that remains thrust inside you.

"Seungcheol, please just cum." You cry, squeezing him the best you can.

He laughs that low smoky laugh that undoes you all over again as he jokes, "we really need to work on that stamina."

"I will…k—AH" He jerks his hips against you at that exact moment, plunging in and out of you deeper and more mercilessly than before. You instantly wound your legs around his hips.

He grips your face with a single palm and squishes your cheeks together until your lips pucker up and just before you think he's going to kiss you, he spits. Shocked as you are, you feel your lips part on their own accord, letting it slip in but his tongue is chasing you down, sucking his own spit back from your mouth.

He continues fucking you—raw, hard and deep, making you arch off the bed and scream so loud that the neighbours who weren't familiar with him would sure know his name now.

He pushes two fingers deep in your mouth, "I love the sounds you make baby," he pants, "but we gotta…we gotta…argh!"

He doesn't get to finish that because his own release catches up to him. His movements turn jittery and sharp as he bucks wild against you, almost crushing you with his weight as he empties himself inside of you. You press your tears and sweat streaked face deeper into his neck, hugging him from under his arms and smoothing over the angry scratches that you didn't even realize your nails left on his back when he was fucking you like an animal.

The more he swells and slumps against you, the more you feel the aftermath of this night lighting up your chest.

You wait for the regret to peek its ugly head from behind your conscience like it always does after every rash decision. But as Seungcheol recovers, helping you settle down better with a warmth bath, gentle aftercare and just the mellow presence of him, you find yourself grounding more and more in the belief that this night, and all the scheming that followed, were some of the best decisions you've ever taken.

You're wearing nothing but his Lunaris t-shirt from earlier when you feel his arm tighten around your waist during the middle of this very long night. He keeps on placing little, fleeting kisses over the crown of your head—that's how you know he's as much awake as you are. But clearly, not for long because rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek lulls you deeper and deeper into the waiting arms of a long, comforting slumber.

Right before you knock out cold, you mumble, half muffled into his chest. "Cheol?"

"Mhmm?"

You breathe in the scent of soap of his fresh sheets. "I don't do this often."

"Do what, Ray?" he asks.

You tilt your head, just enough for him to see your droopy eyes, your pouty lips. "Scam people…then sleep with them on the first date."

He can't help but laugh at how adorable you look, trying your best to keep your eyes and heart open for him to see that deep down buried between whatever chaos you've showed him, you're indeed, a good person.

"I know baby," he agrees, brushing your hair that is still a little wet from his shower off your face, "guess I'm just prone to being scammed and getting fucked on first dates."

You snicker, stealing another kiss from him in the dark before surrendering to sleep.

The next time you see Keira, she's getting off her shift from the coffeehouse with her new boyfriend in tow holding her bag. She's saying something to him, deliberately slowing her words down because of her tendency to talk fast when she's nervous, or excited, or both—and he's listening to her, with all the patience and attention in the world.

You somehow manage to wriggle out of the stronghold of your own boyfriend, who whines at the loss of your body from between his hands and lips.

"Cheol, stay." you order him over your shoulder before jogging up to the couple and when you reach them, though your friend is clearly the excited one to see you, you instead reach to pat the shoulders of her boyfriend like a bro.

"Thanks for taking her out the day before Valentine's day, Mingyu." You tell the guy whose confused gaze oscillates between you and his girlfriend laughing beside you. Yet, you continue, even when he has no context, "I really owe you a big one."

"Uh…cool, I guess?" He smiles at you, puzzled, before turning to his girlfriend, "but babe, wasn't our first date on the—"

"The details don't matter, baby." The speed at which Keira replies with that jittery smile is almost too quick—even for a fast-talker like her.

But you choose to brush it off, too happy to worry over little details lately. You extend your palm towards Mingyu in a businesslike manner, "I mean it, Kim. Feel free to reach out to me whenever you need my help."

Mingyu laughs, not because anything is humorous, but because he doesn't know how else to react to the bizarreness of this situation. Yet, he concedes, shaking your hand as formally as he can—briefly, because all of a sudden, he is slipping his hand out of your grip and stepping a little away from you when he spots someone behind you.

You roll your eyes, you don't even have to turn around to see what's going on.

"Cheol, are you glaring at him?" You ask.

"Yeah." Comes the disgruntled reply.

"Well, are you planning to stop glaring at him?"

"Not really."

"Do you want me to ask Keira to go to the next concert with me?"

"But Ray—"

"I think we should get going," Keira butts in, tugging at the sleeves of her boyfriend's sweatshirt and pulling him away.

You don't miss it though, the knowing smile she throws towards Seungcheol and that's all it takes for you to start wondering about the loophole of this entire story—

How the hell did Seungcheol get your number!?

fanboy in the streets sextoy in the sheets ;)

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𝔄𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔰 𝔒𝔫𝔩𝔶 || San x reader

♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Single father San x nanny reader ♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You’ve spent months fighting the undeniable magnetic pull between you and Mr. Choi — the unfairly handsome single father whose house you live in as the nanny for his twins. His heated stares linger longer with each passing day, thickening the air with unspoken desire that makes you blush and touch yourself in bed at night when you think about him. Your twisted game of cat and mouse might have continued indefinitely, if you hadn’t accidentally caught him in the shower one day — hot water streaming over his body as he stroked himself slowly, your dirty panties pressed tightly to his face. A full scene for the unholy hour ♡ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢: Smut, Dilf!Au, Domestic! AU, Reader x Single father ♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 5.4k ♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: dom!Dilf San, Soft!reader, impregnation kink, breeding kink, cum play, pussy rubbing, pet names, dirty talk, hand job, praise kink, milking, masturbation, size kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cock milking, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more. ♡ net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity ♡ 𝔄|𝔑: Well, my sugar bunnies, I didn't plan on writing a full-length, but that's what happened. This is also unedited, so please be gentle with me. I don't usually post rough drafts this rough, but I promised you a full scene for this one, and I really won't be able to edit it anytime soon, at least for the next two weeks, and I don't want my bunnies to get bored. So, I hope you have lots of fun with soft, but perverted dilf San who spends all his free time thinking about how badly he wants to breed his children's nanny. ♡ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 at the end of the post. ♡ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔶 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 - check for more

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖉 - Your love makes all this possible

Single fatherhood had been grinding San down to the marrow lately, the weight of it crushing him from the moment the sun clawed over the horizon until it bled out behind the city skyline. Work dragged him out before the twins even stirred and spat him back home long after the house had gone dark, so bone-weary he could barely peel off his suit, let alone chase the kind of filthy, desperate release his body had been screaming for.

And then you stepped into the storm — his quiet miracle, his soft-eyed salvation, the one calm heartbeat in the chaos of his life with two wild toddlers. You’d been here for months now, and San didn’t know how he’d survived without you. The house finally felt like a home again instead of a battlefield, and for the first time in forever he could actually draw a full breath without it catching in his throat.

The change had crept in so gradually he almost missed it at first. Mornings where the twins’ laughter no longer grated against his frayed nerves but instead wrapped around him like something warm and safe. Evenings when he came home to the soft glow of lights and the faint scent of dinner waiting instead of cold silence and scattered toys.

Little by little, the constant knot of exhaustion in his chest began to loosen, replaced by something far more dangerous — a slow, heated awareness of the way you moved through his space with such effortless grace. The gentle curve of your smile when one of the boys reached for you, the way your voice softened into something tender and melodic as you soothed them, the quiet competence that made his once-chaotic world feel steady again. Each small moment settled deeper under his skin, stirring embers he had long since buried beneath layers of fatigue and responsibility.

The hunger started as a low, dangerous thrum beneath his skin, something San almost convinced himself was just exhaustion.

At first he only noticed the safe, practical things: how the twins fell instantly silent the moment you cradled them against the soft swell of your chest, how a steaming meal always waited on the counter no matter how late he dragged himself through the door, how the entire house had shifted from a cold, sterile battlefield into something warm, lived-in, and quietly welcoming. San told himself the way his gaze clung to the generous curve of your ass when you bent to gather a scattered toy was nothing more than bone-deep fatigue. The way his cock gave a slow, heavy throb when your soft, genuine laugh drifted across the room at one of the boys’ babbling nonsense was simply the natural response of a man who hadn’t lost himself inside warm, willing heat in over a year.

But the thrum grew louder. Deeper. Hungrier.

And then San started having dreams. Filthy, sweat-soaked, vividly colored dreams that tore him from sleep with his cock rigid and leaking against his stomach, sheets tangled around his thighs like silken bonds, your name already spilling from his lips in a broken whisper.

In one he had you on your knees beneath his office desk during a late-night video call, those wide, innocent eyes gazing up at him while your plush lips stretched wide around the thick, veined length of his cock. He’d twist his fingers into your hair, continue speaking in that calm, authoritative CEO tone, hips rolling in unhurried, possessive strokes while you drooled and whimpered around him, mascara painting dark, messy trails down your flushed cheeks. He’d empty himself down your throat mid-sentence, thick, copious streams and you’d swallow every drop like the perfect, greedy little slut he knew you could be.

He’d wake with his boxers drenched, heart hammering against his ribs, and barely reach the shower, fisting himself with harsh, desperate strokes that never truly eased the gnawing hunger.

The daytime fantasies were even crueler. They ambushed him when he was least prepared.

During yet another endless conference call he’d find his mind drifting, painting you on your knees beneath the oak table in his home office. Eager fingers would tug down his zipper with practiced hunger, that warm, velvet mouth sinking down until the swollen head nudged the back of your throat. While San fought to keep his voice steady and professional for the camera, your tongue would swirl slowly and obscene around the sensitive tip, cheeks hollowing with each deliberate suck, those soft, needy hums vibrating straight through his heavy sac. He’d grip the edge of the desk until his knuckles paled, biting back the urge to moan your name in front of his entire team.

The mere fantasy was enough to make his cock swell and throb insistently against the tight confines of his slacks; he’d have to mute the call, press his palm firmly over the aching bulge, and sink his teeth into the inside of his cheek until the meeting dragged to its end.

And then there were the real moments — the ones that turned restraint into the sweetest, most exquisite torture.

Watching you with the twins always unraveled the last fragile threads of San’s control.

God, the way you played with them — so gentle, so effortlessly tender, every gesture radiating that soft, glowing maternal warmth that sent his his blood boiling hotter than it should.

You’d sink gracefully to the floor in those tiny sleep shorts that rode high on the smooth, plush stretch of your thighs, letting the boys clamber all over you, their delighted giggles muffled against the soft, tempting curve of your chest. San would linger in the doorway, pretending to check his phone, but his eyes stayed riveted on the way your thin tank top stretched tight across those full, heavy breasts whenever you reached for a toy, the way your nipples would pebble into tight, begging peaks the instant the cool air from the vent whispered over them.

In his mind the scene shifted instantly — you softer, rounder, belly beautifully swollen and radiant with his child, those same breasts full and heavy from milk, dark damp circles blooming across the fabric because you were too lost in caring for his family to notice or care.

San’d imagine you settled on the couch, cradling one of the little ones to your breast while he watched from across the room, his cock straining painfully against his pants at the sight. He was the one who had given you that lush, fertile glow. He was the one who had fucked you so thoroughly the night before that you’d still be walking with that delicious, sated waddle the next day, inner thighs slick with the evidence of how he completely claimed a pretty, sweet nanny.

That particular domestic fantasy slammed into him like a freight train on a random Tuesday.

He’d come home early for once and found you in the kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his old, oversized shirts draped loosely over your shorts, humming softly while you stirred something fragrant on the stove. The twins were napping upstairs. Golden late-afternoon light spilled through the windows, bathing everything in a hazy, golden warmth, and for one dangerous, heart-stopping second San let himself imagine you as his completely — his sweet little wifey, wearing only a tiny apron knotted around your waist, full breasts completely bare and swaying gently with every movement, nipples stiff from the cool air.

That soft, puffy little cunt of yours still glistening and swollen from the thick, creamy load he’d pumped into you that morning, slow, shiny trails of his seed tracing lazy paths down your inner thighs while you cooked dinner for your family like the perfect, depraved little housewife you were born to be.

San’d step up behind you, bend you over the counter, and sink back inside that warm, welcoming heat — deep and unhurried, no rush, no tiny voices to interrupt, just the wet, obscene sounds of your slick walls stretching around every thick inch while he pressed open-mouthed kisses of your neck and whispered how fucking exquisite you looked carrying his baby again.

He’d almost done it that day. Almost pressed the heavy, aching length of his cock against the soft, plush curve of your ass and let you feel exactly how desperately hard the thought made him.

Instead San’d cleared his throat, thanked you for dinner in that low, strained rasp, and vanished into his office to fist his throbbing shaft furiously into a tissue, teeth sunk deep into his knuckles so the broken moan of your name wouldn’t echo through the quiet house.

The tension had been thickening for weeks now, slow and merciless, like warm honey spreading beneath his skin until every breath felt too tight, too heavy.

Every accidental brush of your fingers when you passed him coffee. Every time you breathed “Mr. Choi” in that sweet, slightly breathless voice that shot straight to his balls. Every night he came home to find you curled on the couch with one of the twins fast asleep on your chest, your hand stroking the boy’s back so gently while you scrolled on your phone.

San would freeze in the dark hallway, cock pulsing painfully against the front of his slacks, wondering how it would feel to replace that soft little hand with his own — bigger, rougher, calloused from years of barely holding on, sliding under your shirt to cup the warm, full weight of your breast while he fucked you slow and deep, letting you feel every swollen vein, every heavy throb, every inch of the thick cock you’d been secretly aching for.

He was losing the battle.

And today was his first real day off in forever; he was finished pretending.

The twins had drifted off without a single protest, their soft breathing the only sound left in the house. Blissful silence wrapped around everything like a secret. San stood in his bedroom, towel slung dangerously low on his hips, dark hair still damp and tousled from the light sheen of sweat earned chasing the boys across the yard earlier. His cock was already half-hard, thickening against the soft fabric just from the memory of you laughing on the grass, cheeks flushed a delicate pink, shirt riding up to bare that tempting strip of smooth skin along your stomach.

He needed release. Badly. He needed to curl his fingers around his aching length and stroke himself senseless to thoughts of you until the gnawing hunger finally eased.

He padded barefoot into the bathroom, the heavy glass door clicking shut behind him like a promise sealed in steam. Hot water roared to life beneath his fingertips, thick clouds already curling lazily around the marble walls and turning the air with something heavy, intimate, almost sacred in its sinfulness.

And there they were — draped over the edge of the tub like the universe had decided to gift him the most obscene temptation imaginable.

Your pale pink lace panties from yesterday. Still faintly damp. Still carrying that faint, intoxicating trace of your sweet, musky warmth.

San’s breath caught sharply in his throat. His cock surged to full, rigid hardness so violently his vision blurred at the edges. He didn’t hesitate for a single second.

He stepped beneath the scalding cascade of water, snatched the delicate scrap of lace, and pressed the ruined fabric straight to his face, inhaling like a man starved for weeks. The heady essence of you flooded his senses - creamy-sweet and warm and unmistakably feminine, laced with that soft whisper of laundry detergent, and his mind short-circuited completely.

“Fuck…” A low, broken groan escaped from San's lips, the sound reverberating against the wet fabric.

He curled his fist tightly around the thick, veined length of his cock and began stroking it in long, deliberate movements, which made the ridges of his sculpted abdomen flex and his heavy scrotum draw up tightly against his body. Scorching water poured down the broad expanse of his chest, tracing every defined line of muscle, every sharp cut of his hips, making the veins along his forearm stand proud as he pumped himself harder, slower, savoring the deep, pulsing ache.

San ground the lace more firmly against his nose and mouth, tongue tracing lazy, greedy paths over the spot where your arousal had dried, sucking the delicate fabric between his lips as though he could truly taste the warm, dripping heat of your pretty little pussy for real.

The fantasy slammed into him again, vivid and merciless.

You stood there in nothing but that tiny apron, bent over the kitchen table, back arched like an offering, thighs spread wide and trembling with anticipation. That soft, swollen cunt of yours glistened invitingly, puffy lips parted and already leaking slow, creamy trails from the thick load he’d pumped deep inside you that morning. He’d grip your hips with firm, possessive hands, push in deep and unhurried, letting you feel every heavy, veined inch stretch your fluttering walls open while your full tits swayed heavily beneath you, nipples tight and begging for his mouth, his fingers, his teeth.

The image burned behind his closed eyelids, vivid and merciless, every detail sharpened by weeks of pent-up hunger. San could almost hear the wet, obscene sounds your body would make around him — the slick slide of skin on skin, your soft gasps turning into broken whimpers as he rocked into you with that slow, deliberate rhythm, claiming you right there in the golden afternoon light while dinner simmered forgotten on the stove. He could almost feel the way your walls would clench and flutter around his thick length, milking him, pulling him deeper, your voice whispering his name like the perfect, depraved little wifey you were meant to be.

He was so lost in it, so completely fucking gone in his sweet fantasy, that he didn’t hear the soft creak of the bathroom door opening.

The house was blissfully, dangerously quiet for once.

The twins, those tiny whirlwinds with San’s dimpled smile and endless fire — had finally surrendered to their afternoon nap after tearing through the backyard like miniature storms. You’d tucked them in with their favorite blankets, brushed soft kisses across their foreheads, and slipped from the nursery on silent feet, heart still fluttering from the way Mr. Choi had looked at you over breakfast.

Just a glance, really, those dark feline eyes lingering a heartbeat too long as you leaned down to wipe jam from one little cheek, but it had been enough to make your thighs press together beneath the kitchen table, a treacherous warmth already blooming low in your belly.

Mr. Choi San. Your boss. The single father who somehow balanced being the most devoted dad in the world with the kind of devastating, fuckable presence that ruined your panties every single day. Lately, the air between you had thickened into something electric, something alive and crackling every time your fingers brushed when handing him his coffee or when he thanked you in that low, velvet rasp that always sounded like a filthy promise wrapped in perfect politeness.

The two of you had fallen into an easy, dangerously comfortable rhythm. The twins adored you, Mr. Choi was kind and respectful, the pay was generous, and you could almost convince yourself you were content, if not for the slow, simmering heat that had thickened between you like warm, sticky honey, sweet and impossible to ignore.

It started with stolen glances and grew into something far hungrier. You felt it in the treacherous slickness that bloomed between your thighs whenever he was near: every accidental brush in the narrow hallway when his clean, masculine scent made your breath hitch; the way his gaze dragged slowly over your body a second too long when you bent to gather toys or chased the boys across the living room in those tiny shorts.

You pretended it wasn’t there, but the air always sparked when your hands touched or when you caught yourself staring too hard at the way his gray sweatpants hung obscenely low on his hips in the mornings, the soft fabric doing nothing to hide the heavy outline beneath.

Today was different. His first real day off in forever. No work. No schedule. Just him, finally home, finally able to breathe.

You’d heard the shower start twenty minutes ago, the low, steady rush of water through the old pipes, the faint metallic clink of the glass door sliding shut. You should have stayed downstairs. Folded laundry. Prepped dinner. Anything but what you were doing now: creeping down the upstairs hallway like a thief in your own skin, drawn by some invisible, irresistible thread you couldn’t name and didn’t want to fight.

The bathroom door wasn’t fully closed.

Just a careless crack. A single tempting inch left open because San had been distracted when he stepped inside. You told yourself you were only checking if he needed anything, fresh towels, maybe, or a glass of water. But the second you reached the door, you froze, breath catching in your throat.

Steam curled out in lazy, fragrant tendrils, carrying the rich, woodsy scent of his body wash that always made your head spin whenever he passed you in the narrow hallway. And there, through that narrow gap, was San.

Naked. Gorgeous. Leaning back against the cool tiled wall beneath the scorching spray, one of his broad palms pressed against his face, the other wrapped around the thick, heavy length of his cock. Water cascaded down his body in glistening rivers — tracing the sharp cut of his collarbones, the defined ridges of his abs that flexed with every slow, deliberate stroke, the deep V of his hips melting into to where he was touching himself.

God, he was bigger than you’d ever dared imagine in your filthiest late-night fantasies. Thick, veined, flushed a deep, furious shade at the swollen tip where beads of precum mixed with the falling water. His hand moved with lazy, confident glides, long and firm from base to crown, thumb sweeping over the sensitive slit on every upward pass, twisting just enough at the head to make his powerful thighs tense and quiver.

His head was tipped back, lips parted on a silent breath, dark hair plastered to his forehead in wet strands. A low, guttural groan rumbled from deep in his chest as when he removed his hand from his face and instead slid down to cup the heavy weight of his balls, rolling them slowly, tugging with gentle pressure. The sound shot straight between your legs like a spark to dry tinder.

But it wasn’t just him.

Now, you could see it, draped over his face. pressed tight against his nose and mouth like he was drowning in your scent, were your panties.

Your dirty panties. The pale pink lace pair you’d worn yesterday. The ones you’d peeled off after a long, frustrating day of chasing the twins and trying desperately not to stare at the way Mr. Choi’s work slacks hugged his perfect ass. You’d left them draped over the tub after your own shower last night, meaning to grab them this morning but forgetting in the breakfast rush. Now they were soaked — partly from the shower spray, mostly from the way San was grinding his face into the crotch, eyes squeezed shut, breathing you in like a man on the verge of starvation.

“Fuck… you smell so fucking good.” Mr. Choi muttered, voice wrecked and low, barely audible over the steady rush of water. His tongue dragged a slow, obscene stripe along the ruined fabric where your arousal had dried. “My little nanny’s been soaked for me… haven’t you, chagiya?”

Your knees nearly buckled. Heat flooded your face, your chest, your dripping core. Your hand flew to your mouth to stifle the whimper clawing its way up your throat, but your other hand traitorous, desperate — slid down your stomach, under the waistband of your loose sleep shorts, and straight into your panties. You were drenched. Embarrassingly, shamefully drenched. Two fingers parted your slick, swollen folds and began circling your throbbing clit, matching the lazy rhythm of San’s hand on his cock without you even meaning to.

You could see it in the way his strokes turned faster, sloppier, almost frantic — each slick drag of his fist desperate and uncontrolled. His breathing fractured into broken, ragged gasps that echoed off the wet tiles like a filthy confession. One hand gripped the thick base of his cock hard, squeezing viciously at the root as if he could wring out a few more precious seconds of torment, while his other hand rose to his face again, crushing your panties tighter against it.

His nose buried deep into the soaked fabric, right where your swollen clit would have pulsed hot and needy against his tongue if you were spread open for him — thighs trembling, dripping pussy offered like a gift he was dying to devour. The scent of you filled his lungs with every greedy inhale, driving him closer to the brink, until his hips jerked helplessly and that low, wrecked moan slipped from his lips like a prayer.

You thrust your fingers faster and deeper into your soaked pussy, chasing that blinding edge with shameless hunger. Your thumb rubbed frantic, desperate circles over your throbbing little clit, each slick swirl sending white-hot sparks racing up your spine. The wet, filthy sounds of your own dripping arousal—obscene, greedy, soaked—filled your ears, loud and shameless even over the steady roar of the shower cascading down your trembling body.

Your thighs shook violently, muscles clenching and quivering as pleasure coiled tighter, threatening to shatter you. Your free hand braced hard against the doorframe, nails digging deep into the wood until faint crescent marks bloomed across it, the only thing keeping you upright while your legs threatened to buckle beneath the relentless ache.

San’s head dropped forward, forehead pressing to the cool tile as he fucked his fist with brutal, unrelenting need.

“Gonna come… fuck, gonna paint these pretty little panties and make you wear my mess for the rest of the day…” His voice cracked into a deep, animalistic groan that reverberated off the wet tiles like a filthy promise.

His cock jerked violently in his grip. In one swift, desperate motion he yanked your soaked panties from his face and held the delicate lace open like a filthy offering right in front of his throbbing length. Then he was coming—hard.

Thick, heavy ropes of cum erupted in pulsing jets, splattering the inside of your lace, flooding the delicate fabric with creamy white streaks that dripped slowly down the soaked material, mixing with the shower spray and the faint, lingering trace of your own dried slick.

The sight of Mr. Choi, your perfect golden-hearted boss, marking your dirty little secret with his hot, messy load while he moaned your name like a broken prayer, sent you spiraling over the edge right along with him. Your greedy cunt clenched viciously around your fingers as a silent, shattering orgasm tore through you, so violent your vision whited out for a heartbeat. You rode the waves against the doorframe, biting down hard on your knuckle to choke back the cry, legs shaking like the floor had vanished beneath you.

For one long, suspended moment the only sounds were the shower still pounding and the ragged breathing of two people burning alive on opposite sides of the same cracked door, completely unaware of each other.

San slowly lowered your ruined panties, staring at the obscene, sticky mess he’d made with dark, satisfied eyes. A lazy, wicked little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thumbed a thick streak of his own cum across the lace, spreading it slowly, deliberately, like he was claiming every single thread.

The house was quiet for once—blissfully, dangerously quiet.

And the tension that had been building for months was finally, finally about to snap.

The shower was still running, hot water beating down like a second, frantic heartbeat against his skin, but San wasn’t finished. Not even close.

His first release had torn through him like lightning—thick ropes of cum painting your panties white and filthy where he’d held them open like a sacred, filthy trophy. He’d growled your name under his breath, hips jerking, heavy sac pulsing as he emptied himself in shuddering waves. But the moment the last drop left him, the ache only sharpened, twisted deeper inside his veins like a drug he couldn’t quit. His cock stayed rock-hard, flushed a dark, furious shade, still twitching against the carved lines of his abs like it refused to be denied.

“Fuck… not enough.” San growled, voice low and shattered, raw with need.

He slid down the slick tiled wall until his knees met the wet floor with a heavy thud. Water streamed over the broad expanse of his shoulders, tracing every deep groove along his spine, pooling around his powerful thighs as he knelt there like a man utterly possessed. One hand slammed against the shower wall for balance, veins standing proud along his forearm, while the other curled back around his oversensitive length—still slick with his own release and the endless spray. He gave one slow, testing glide and hissed sharply at the burning sting of overstimulation, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

He tossed your ruined panties onto the shower floor in front of him. They landed with a wet slap, cum-streaked lace fanned open like an invitation, and San stared at them as if they were you—spread wide, waiting, glistening just for him. His hips rolled forward, driving into the tight tunnel of his fist with long, deliberate strokes.

The motion was pure obscenity: powerful ass clenching and releasing with every thrust, thick muscles in his glutes and thighs rippling beneath glistening skin. Rivulets raced down his back, catching on every sculpted line—broad shoulders, tapered waist, the tempting dimples at the base of his spine that vanished into the cleft of that perfect, firm ass. He looked like living, luxurious depravity, like a private performance crafted to ruin whoever was lucky enough to witness it. Every snap of his hips made his thick cock disappear completely into his fist, only to reappear slick and throbbing, the swollen head angry and already weeping fresh beads of precum.

“Goddamn… look at you.” He muttered, eyes half-lidded and dark, staring at the panties like they could whisper back. His voice dropped lower, that velvet growl turning downright filthy. “Such a pretty little nanny… always so gentle and warm with my boys. Bet you’d feel even sweeter bent over my kitchen table, huh? Tiny apron tied around your waist, nothing else. Tits bare and heavy for me… leaking warm milk while I fuck another baby deep into this fertile little belly.”

His strokes quickened, wet sounds echoing off the tiles—obscene, rhythmic, addictive. He was gone now, hips snapping with increasing force, ass bouncing with every powerful drive into his hand. The fantasy poured from him in a hungry, broken stream, each filthy word dripping with raw, possessive hunger.

“Fuck, yes, just like that, my little wife.” San growled, voice wrecked and dripping with raw hunger. “Spread those soft thighs wider for me. Let Daddy see how swollen and greedy your pretty cunt gets after I’ve filled you so full.”

His free hand left the shower wall just long enough to cup his heavy balls, tugging them downward with a firm, possessive squeeze, rolling the sensitive weight in his palm while his hips kept driving into his fist with long, filthy strokes.

“You’d look so fucking exquisite like that… cooking dinner with my cum still trickling down your smooth thighs. Belly rounded and glowing, tits swaying heavy with every step. I’d take you right there—slow and deep, make you feel every thick, veined inch stretching that tight, fluttering hole wide open.”

You were still frozen outside the cracked door, heart hammering so loudly you were sure it would give you away. Your hand had slipped back inside your shorts, fingers buried deep in your soaked, fluttering heat, pumping in quick, desperate little thrusts that mirrored the sinful roll of his hips. You felt shameless, spying like a desperate little pervert from the shadows, cheeks burning, thighs quivering—but you couldn’t stop. Not when he was painting pictures like that, each word sinking straight into your dripping core.

San’s head tipped forward, water streaming off his dark hair in shining trails, and then the switch happened. His saturi slipped out thick and low, that rough drawl wrapping every syllable in pure, filthy hometown heat.

“Jagiya… my little wif.” He rasped, voice cracking as he fucked his fist faster, the words melting together in that thick, rolling accent. “Your tight little cunt… clenching so fucking perfect around Daddy’s cock.” The syllables blurred into half-moaned, half-growled promises of breeding you deep, claiming you completely, making you his forever. “Cum for me… gonna make you my wife… take every last drop of my cum deep inside that greedy little hole…”

You bit your lip until it bled, fingers curling hard against that spongy spot inside your dripping heat, thumb grinding frantic circles over your swollen clit. The coil inside you wound tighter, tighter—your free hand braced white-knuckled on the doorframe, knees shaking so violently you were sure they’d give out.

San’s thrusts turned wild and erratic, hips snapping with raw power, ass flexing in tight, powerful waves that sent water spraying across the tiles. Every muscle in his body gleamed—abs contracting sharply, veins bulging along his forearms as he braced and fucked and completely lost himself.

“Fuck…gonna cum again, gonna fill you up, wife…gonna…ah, shit!”

His head snapped back against the tile with a wet thud, eyes rolling white as a long, broken moan tore from his throat and echoed off the walls like a dark, possessive claim. His cock jerked violently in his grip, shooting thick, creamy ropes of cum across your discarded panties again — splattering the delicate lace, the wet floor, even the tiled wall in heavy, pulsing jets while he kept stroking through every last spurt, milking himself mercilessly until his powerful body shuddered and trembled with the raw force of it.

At the exact same moment, you shattered too — hard, silent, devastating. Your cunt clamped down around your fingers like a vice, a hot gush of wetness soaking straight through your shorts as your vision whited out completely. You biting down hard on your knuckle until it throbbed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming, shattering intensity.

The second it passed, panic crashed over you like ice water.

You yanked your hand free, spun on trembling legs, and fled down the hallway as quietly as you could — bare feet silent on the carpet, heart hammering so loudly you were terrified it would betray you. You didn’t dare look back. You slipped into your bedroom, shut the door with the softest click, and leaned back against it, chest heaving, thighs slick and shaking uncontrollably.

Nothing would ever be the same. You both knew it.

Inside the bathroom, San stayed on his knees for another long, breathless minute, water still pouring over the broad, glistening planes of his shoulders. His cock gave one last weak twitch in his hand before he finally released it. A slow, dangerous smirk curved his lips as he reached down and picked up your thoroughly ruined panties — now twice as filthy, heavy and dripping with his warm cum and the shower spray.

He brought them to his face one last time, inhaling deep and slow, savoring the intoxicating mix of your scent and his, then folded the soaked lace carefully in his fist.

“Oh, baby…” he murmured to the empty room, voice still husky and dark with promise. “You have no idea what you just started.”

He shut off the water, stepped out, and wrapped a towel low around his waist — your panties clutched tight in his other hand like a filthy little secret he had every intention of keeping.

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @ghostlovesworld @i-love-ateez @mingisprincesss @vampscan @peachygiku @vampqueen777 @miyaluvvsyou @stay-tiny-things @moondanse94 @thyvessel

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part III @yyaurii @infrenchexit @sanniesbum @jaxyy219 @lostxxgirl @m1sss1mp @manipulatedstars @cotton-candycloudz @kienhawon @flowerxsin @londonbridges01 @fluffyyongbokie @sang-09 @hobarihope @sanniesaur @luvbit3z @sanriomilk @s4erin @sanhwalvr @mallielovssyou @slytherinslays @your-bloodbag @cherricola-star @passionandsuga @hwasangel @yyaurii @nevermoreraven1 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @unholywriters @mortal-advocate @heiswan @ninalove323 @freckl ypotato @staytinyluva @xcallmetaniax @julessworldduh @gayforbobandothers @jujusreader @onysmamas @lady-haitani @zzhengyu @scardorosht @lucyspage @vairytalier @fics-on9024