d e v o n
Misplaced Lens Cap
blake kathryn
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Discoholic 🪩
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Kiana Khansmith
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almost home
JVL
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
sheepfilms
One Nice Bug Per Day
tannertan36
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
bliss lane
pixel skylines
seen from Türkiye
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@teaxtease
tea | 19 🏳️🌈 woc | nsfw/smau blog | masterlist
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OUUUUU SHIT barefaced yeosang is my weakness nobody talk to me please omg fuck
ATEEZ YEOSANG as YOUR BF
ft. overly freaked out reader!
pairing: bf!yeosang x freaked out gf!reader
genre: crack, mature
notes: first post in a while kinda nervous 😟
choi3an
i’m literally gonna eat him THIS IS AN INSANE PICTURE
SILVER | fem!mingi x fem!yunho
.⋆♱
There was always something about her that made Mingi’s head spin. Maybe it was the way she dressed, the short ruffled skirts and silk, lace camis. Or maybe it was her perfume, her floral scents mixed with the shea butter lotion she rubbed on her arms every day.
Mingi always inhaled deeply when she hugged her, burrowing her nose in her friend’s shoulder.
She felt desperate.
The sort of whimsical desire that made her contemplate if any other relationship she’d ever had was real.
To be in love with your best friend. It was the simultaneous feeling of that extreme rush of excitement that all came crashing down in that deep-seated sense of dread that came with lying to the person you loved the most.
“Ahh! I love you!” It made Mingi’s stomach drop every time she said it. Yunho’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. She pulled back, the dainty gold chain hanging from her wrist. She held the charm that dangled off gingerly between her fingers.
It was a pigeon. It’s border lined with gold, specks of green and purple down its back. Mingi never understood her fascination with the bird. But she didn’t have to. The reasoning didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she loved the charm.
And that Mingi got to see her smile.
.⋆♱
“I like your necklace,” Mingi watched the gold crucifix hanging down from her neck. It swayed against her skin as she adjusted herself on the couch, head landing on Mingi’s shoulder. It was small, not even the size of her fingertip. She pressed her thumb to it, covering it completely.
She fucking hated the thing. It was boring. Obvious. A simple reminder of things they’d lost.
“Oh, thank you. My mom bought it for me.” Yunho pulled the blanket over both of them, pulling her legs up from the floor and laying them over Mingi’s lap. “I think she’s worried about me.”
Mingi pressed her thumb down harder on the cross.
“Worried? About what?”
She’s doing everything she can to focus, but the weight of Yunho’s head on her shoulders, the scent of her shampoo to close to her face, the softness of her voice, it's all Mingi can think about.
Yunho sighs, “I think she thinks that…that I’m gonna stop going to church, too.” She places her hand over Mingi’s, thumb caressing her knuckles. Holding it right over her heart.
Mingi wants to scream, to curse Mrs. Jeong out, tell her that Yunho was free to make her own decisions, be her own person. It hadn’t even been a year since Mingi had come out and stopped attending their church. As much as she'd fantasized about Yunho doing the same, it simply wasn't the reality.
“Right.” She pressed her lips into a line. “She’s scared I’m gonna corrupt you?” Mingi laughs, but it’s tight. Uncomfortable.
Yunho doesn’t laugh. “No,” she sighs. It’s heavier than it should be. “Actually, I told her we weren’t friends anymore.”
Mingi drops the necklace from her hand like it burns, and Yunho sits up straighter, head lifting from Mingi’s shoulder. She lets go of Mingi's hand
“You what?”
“Oh I,” she pauses, brows pinched together in confusion, “I told her we stopped being friends. Like a year ago.”
“Right,” Mingi scoots away from her on the couch, giving everything in her power not to look at the look on Yunho’s face—the sad, kicked puppy who can do no wrong. “When I came out.”
Yunho nods, like that would make any of this feel better. Less like a stab to the chest. “Yeah.”
“Why?” Mingi’s blinking away tears now.
She bites her lip, trying the quell the awkward tension that’s forming in Mingi’s living room. “Well, she was just asking a lot of questions. Like if you were dating someone or if you were still going to church. I didn’t want to air out your stuff.” She grabs the crucifix on pure instinct. “And I didn’t want her to think I’m gay...so it was just easier.”
“God forbid she thinks you’re gay…”
“Mingi, please—”
Yunho crawls toward her on the couch, and every bone in Mingi’s body tells her to move.
But she doesn’t.
That soft hand caresses her cheek, thumb wiping away a stray tear. “You know how my mom is,” her voice is a whisper.
“She used to love me,” it breaks Mingi's heart to say it out loud. “She told me that she couldn’t wait to see me grow up. And get married. Start a family.”
“I know,” she wraps her arms around Mingi’s waist, hugging her and laying her head back on Mingi’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
They sit there for a beat. Listening to the sounds of their own heartbeats together for a moment.
Mingi’s fingers find the necklace again as she strokes Yunho's hair. “Does she know how you lost the first one?”
Yunho flinches.
She hadn’t thought about that night in a long time. Even though Mingi thought about it every fucking night.
.⋆♱
But she remembers. The soft, fullness of Mingi’s lips on hers. The way Mingi had pulled back, laughing at how badly she needed Chapstick before leaning back in. She’d moaned into Mingi’s mouth simply from the strength of the hands on her waist.
It was the summer after their senior year. Church camp. Their last summer together before college.
Yunho had broken up with her boyfriend the week before.
Mingi had stolen a bottle of Tito’s from her parents.
They’d snuck plastic cups from the cafeteria and crept out of their cabin in the middle of the night, down to the lake. They'd sat on the dock for hours. Talking. Drinking. Drinking. Crying. Drinking some more.
Mingi had held Yunho, letting her sob into her arms. She’d wiped her tears, kissing her on the forehead.
“One day you’ll get the love you deserve, Yuyu.
“I promise.”
Something had clicked for Yunho in that moment. Her lips were on Mingi’s before she even realized what she was doing.
It all felt so right. Their lips pressed together. Mingi’s strong hand tangled in her hair, not pulling, just resting. Holding their faces together. Her other hand rested on the back of her neck, Yunho felt it warm against her skin. She tasted like nothing but alcohol, but it was sweeter than anything she’d ever experienced.
She kept her hands in her lap, folded tightly, short fingernails digging into the backs of her hands.
When they’d pulled apart, Mingi’s hand caught on the chain of the silver crucifix, yanking it off. The chain snapped, and they both watched as it landed on the dock.
But neither of them moved when it slid between the panels of the wood and dropped into the water.
Mingi picked up Yunho's hand, thumb tracing her bare wrist.
“I think you look prettier in silver, anyway.”
the best birthday party you've ever been to, even if you still don't know the birthday girl
🎤︎︎ wooyoung x fem!reader | college au series, part 12/? 🎤︎︎ 18+ | 8.6k words | reader is the host of a sex podcast, wooyoung is a frat boy whore, yunho is an angel sent from heaven above, Park Jihyo | smut minors dni, closet lesbo sex, dirty talk, oral sex f!receiving, i dont think i have to tag anything else. i literally have been writing since 11 am and i want everyone to pick up on a Certain Thing so bad
“I’M NERVOUS. WHY ARE YOU not nervous? What if they start talking about Unscripted? How do I act normal? How do you act normal?”
You sigh, closing the car door behind you, thanking the driver one last time. Yunjin’s asked about thirty different versions of the same questions all the way to the Penny, and you don’t have any more answers for her.
“If you can’t answer, then don’t say anything.”
“But Sannie knows I’ve been listening,” she whines, head dipping backward as she follows behind you with a steady stride. “He’s gonna want to know my thoughts and feelings.”
“Then keep it vague,” you shrug. “Say what you think without saying too much. Just enough to keep him entertained.”
She smacks her teeth, heels scruffing against the pavement. “You’re a good liar, not me. Clearly.” You whip your head around to narrow your eyes at her. Shades covering her eyes, she grins, “Am I wrong?”
“No,” you huff. “But you’re either mad at me or you’re not. Don’t drag it out.”
She whines again, the vodka on her tongue already speaking for her, “I’m not mad at you, I’m sorry. It’s just fucking crazy and I’m scared I’m gonna slip up.”
You come to a full stop at the entrance, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re not gonna slip up because you’re my best friend and you love me and you’d hate yourself if you ruined my life.”
She nods. “Yes. Yes to all of that. You’re right.”
“Okay,” you nod, assured, then rip the front door to the Penny open.
Immediately you’re hit with the scents of grease and liquor, bright music pounding through the dimly lit bar. The small tables were put away again, replaced with taller ones, they premeditated the standing room needed tonight. And thank fucking god, because once again, the Lucky Penny is packed.
There’s streamers, balloons, a banner for whoever the fuck’s birthday it is. You think Jihyo invited all of you to get bodies into the bar, even if the Penny is usually packed on weekends anyway, they rarely have any issues getting people inside.
You and Yunjin decided to match again, different versions of the same outfit, long pants on your legs, heels on your feet. You have on a white, high-necked top while hers is low-cut and black, your jewelry even complimented one another. Your shades are on your head instead of over your eyes, she insists that you get at least one picture with them on.
You spent the second half of yesterday together, once again discussing the technicalities of Unscripted, how you’ve managed to keep a double life for so long. You answered all her questions, broke down stories, told her every little secret she wanted to know. By the end of it she came to the conclusion that even though you kept so much from her, it’s kinda cool that it’s you. She lives with a micro-celebrity. Her words.
It’s strange, liberating, in a way, that someone knows. Terrifying, but freeing that there’s a person who knows all of you, the secrets, the voice, the humor, all of it. Thank god it’s Yunjin.
“I see them,” Yunjin says from behind you, pointing towards the back of the bar. You follow her line of sight, spotting San, Yunho, Mingi, Jongho. “Should we get a drink first?”
“Should we get a drink and find the girls first?” you counter. “We’re here for someone’s birthday. Whose is it again?”
“Mina,” Yunjin reminds you. “Jihyo’s friend, I think they’ve been friends for a long time, I don't know. Let’s go to the bar.”
You follow behind her after she skirts in front of you, leaving her wrist for you to grab as she pulls you into the mob of people. You should be used to it by now, swimming through the horde of people gathered in layers around the bar, but getting pushed and shoved while you’re also pushing and shoving just to get a fucking drink is too aggravating to be considered regular.
Yunjin spots Sana and Momo before you do, tugging you forward until you’re in their line of sight, screams and squeals from the two making the crowd part to let you through. Your greetings were the same, shouted in squeals and pitched noises, side hugs and cheek-kisses like you haven’t seen each other in a month.
“You made it!” Sana beams, chocolate brown hair similar to Jen’s down, waved like she went to a salon for a fresh blowout. “Ji will be so happy, she put her whole soul into planning this.”
Your chest warms at another mention of her name, remembering your conversation with Yunho.
“Beer is free tonight,” Momo explains, her grin wide and excited. “We bought two kegs from the Penny. Miller, unforch.” You can’t help your smile, fully amused. She brings her gaze to you, “We should have gotten barrels of vodka and vermouth for you, Martini Girl.”
You shake your head, waving a hand, “I can pretend to be a frat boy for the night, don’t worry about me.”
“Just tell the bartender you’re here for Mina’s party and they’ll hook you up,” Sana adds. “Start chugging, though, two kegs will go quickly. There’s more people here than we thought would show.”
You and Yunjin take the advice quickly, switching spots with Sana and Momo to flag down the bartender, double-fisting to ensure you both end up catching a buzz. You didn’t drive since your car is in the shop, but you still want the twenty-dollar Uber to be worth it. Knowing Yunho, he’ll pay for the Uber ride home.
Wait— can you even assume you’re going home with Yunho anymore? Since you’re no longer exclusive, that means he… He could go home with someone else. You could go home with someone else. You don’t know what feeling is blooming in your chest, but it doesn’t feel right.
You find yourself beelining toward him, feet moving without a second thought, you don’t even tell Yunjin or the other two that you’re leaving. Your beer sways in the two glasses, toppling over the sides as you skip over shoes and slide between pockets of bodies, pushing yourself toward the tall table the four massive men stand at.
Your glasses hitting the table introduce your presence before anyone has noticed you snuck up. Yunho’s head snaps, mid-sentence, brows tied together before his face expands in a beaming smile. “There you are, sunshine.”
Relief washes over you at the sight. He bends down to press his lips to yours, a short peck, soft and sweet, he tastes like beer, like chapstick. Like Yunho.
“Double fisting?” he asks, teasing, eyeing up your two beers. “Planning to get fucked up?”
You snort, “Just ensuring I milk the kegs before they’re tapped.” You greet the rest of the table as Yunjin finally catches up, sliding between San and Jongho, setting her two draft glasses on the table, too.
“Damn,” Jongho says, gaze bouncing between your four glasses taking up half the table, including their own glasses. “Might as well have brought a pitcher over.”
“Can we do that?” Yunjin pops a chocolate brow over her shades. “Is that allowed?”
Mingi asks, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
You’re quick to jump in, “Because the beers are free and a pitcher feels…” Your lips scrunch, brows furrowing, “I don’t know. Feels mooch-y.”
San laughs, “And four beers isn’t?”
“Sana told us to get it before it’s gone!” Yunjin is laughing as she brings her beer up to her lips, taking a deep gulp.
Jongho is about to argue again but Yunho cuts him off, “You go get a pitcher.”
“Yeah,” Yunjin nods, glass hitting the table again. “You go get a pitcher, since you want one so bad.”
Your eyes are bouncing back and forth to each face, smile growing with each interaction, every comeback. Jongho scowls as he moves from the table, no doubt thinking about what a climb it will be to get back up to the bar. At least he brings his beer with him.
“So,” Yunho starts, leaning down to get close to your ear. His breath is hot against your skin, it makes you shiver. “See anyone yet?”
Your cheeks heat up, eyes widening at the question. You take a swig of your beer, hoping the chilled carbonation will cool you off a bit. “No,” you mutter softly, turning your head to face him. His hair is down, curly over his forehead, almost touching his lashes. “I came straight to you.”
His face flattens out, but there’s humor in his pretty eyes. “Boring.”
You smack your teeth with your lips and smack his arm with the back of your hand, a laugh falling out of your open mouth. “Not boring, Jeong Yunho.”
He giggles, goading you, “Come on, it’s your first night of freedom. Start shopping.”
Shopping. You push the memory out as your eyes travel over the crowd, loosing a heavy breath as absolutely fucking no one catches your attention. Not that no one here is attractive– but there’s no one who you’d want one night of really hot, intense fucking with.
You’re pouting as you glance back at Yunho. “I don’t think I’m gonna be good at this.”
“You don’t think so?” His brows sit high, a playful grin on his lips like he knows something you don’t. His chin dips in the direction you were just looking at, “Look again, baby.”
You turn, faces blending together, bodies moving as one until you see her. As if she’s beneath a fucking spotlight, her golden, tanned skin sparkles in the pockets of her cut-out, black mini dress. Her dark hair flows down her back, curled, shiny, so pretty. She looks so fucking sexy your heartbeat picks up in your chest.
You look back at Yunho, cheeks hot, the tips of your ears on fire, “Fuck.”
He laughs with his head tipped backward before he brings his beer up to his lips. “Told you,” he says with a little shrug. “You’ll be just fine. Go talk to her.”
“No!” you whisper, well, more like a whisper-yell. “I can’t go hit on her.”
“Why not?” he’s still smiling as he asks, amused by you. “Fine. Go tell her she did a great job with the party or something.”
“That’s so fucking corny,” you groan, shaking your head as you bring your beer back up to your lips again.
San cuts in from across the table, “What are you two whispering about over there?”
You’ve barely swallowed your gulp of beer before you’re blurting, “Nothing!” Your gaze lands on Yunjin, and her eyes narrow. “Fine,” your lips flatten. “Yunho wants me to go hit on Jihyo.”
The table falls into a confused silence. Mingi breaks it by asking, “You’re gay?”
“Aren’t you two together?” San adds on.
“Like, our Jihyo?” Yunjin adds on, and your head bobbles between the three of them, each question adding another layer of frustration.
All you can do is groan. A pitiful, droning groan, instinctively you bring your beer back up to your lips.
“We’re not exclusive anymore,” Yunho answers for you. “And she has her eye on your Jihyo, yes. Gay question isn’t mine to answer.”
“Mind you, you had all day yesterday to tell me about this,” Yunjin’s eyes are still narrowed at you.
Your cheeks are flaming, hiding beneath your glass of beer. “Baby steps?” you offer with a tiny shrug.
Yunjin sighs, “I’ll take it, I guess.”
The conversation moves on, but your head keeps turning involuntarily, taking small glances at her. She's in heels, her muscled calves flexing each time she moves her body, shifting her stance. Fuck, she looks hot. She always looks hot. She looks especially hot tonight.
When you look back at Yunho, he’s already looking at you. Then his brows raise as if he’s saying you gonna do it, or what? Your lips purse, heartbeat picking up again. You don’t think you’ve ever approached someone with the sole intention of flirting with them in your life.
This past month has been filled with so many firsts for you. What’s one more?
You pick up your beer and chug the rest of it down, it’s screaming all the way down your throat, the taste not wonderful but not unbearable either. It’s the bubbles, the carbonation, but you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, look at Yunho with a determined expression, and nod.
He grins, “That’s my girl.”
“Are you going?” San asks, thick, dark brows wiggling. “Should we give you a pep talk? Act like we’re sending you off to war?”
You try to scowl at him, but your lips curve at the corners. “Go fuck Jen in the bathroom or something.”
“Go fuck Jihyo in the bathroom or something,” he fires back automatically.
“Maybe I will, bitch,” it comes out of your mouth before you can think about it and your palm flies over your mouth, shocked that you just fucking said that. Maybe the Miller gave you a little more than just courage.
San howls with laughter. “Fuck yes, do it.”
Your cheeks are warm, and that definitely wasn’t a pep talk, but for some reason it feels like what you needed. You turn on your heel, breath pushing out of your circled lips shakily as you wipe your sweaty palm on your pant leg. Your other hand holds your other, full beer.
She’s mid-conversation as you approach her, and before speaking, interrupting, you lay your hand softly on her shoulder blade. “Just wanted to say hi.”
She just about fucking screams when she sees you. Forgetting her conversation completely, she throws her arms around you, yelling, “You came! You came! I’m so happy!”
You laugh into her arms, pretending you don’t care about her body pressed against yours, that you didn’t come over here with an ulterior motive. “Of course I did, you invited me.”
She keeps her hands on your shoulders as she pulls away, barely keeping space between you, she’s beaming, her cheeks flushed. You keep catching the gloss on her lips as she barrages you with questions, “How are you? Who are you here with? Is Jen here?”
You point behind you, and her eyes follow. “She’s here, we invited some of the guys we’re friends with.”
“Oh,” her brows furrow as she waves her manicured hand. “They’re already all looking over here.”
Your face drops, you turn your head and scowl in their direction, just to catch them all staring at you. When they catch your expression they all turn away, caught. Guilty. Fuckers.
“Isn’t the blonde one yours?” she asks, brows wiggling. “He’s hot. Tall.”
“He’s not mine,” you blurt, shaking your head. Fuck, this is harder than you thought it’d be. “We’re not exclusive, I’m– I’m fully single.”
“Oh,” she says like this is the most scandalous information she’s ever heard. “My girl who’s committed to being committed is in a non-exclusive relationship? Who are you?”
“I’m me,” you smile, eyes finding the floor for a millisecond. You shrug, “Just… different now. I guess.”
“I’m proud of you,” she nods, one arm that was holding onto your shoulder sliding down to pet your bicep. You physically have to stop yourself from shivering at the contact. She’s taller than you in her heels, looking down at you as she says it, her soft palm brushing your bare skin…
“Thank you,” you murmur, cheeks heating up again. “This place looks great– I– you look great.”
“Yeah?” She beams, taking a step back to look down at her own outfit. “I know it’s Mina’s birthday, but since I planned it I figured I have to look good, too.”
“You do,” you affirm her, looking at her outfit with her, nodding your head. You run a hand through your hair. Why is this so hard? How do you start flirting with a girl who’s your friend? How do you un-friend your friend? How do you even flirt?
Someone grabs at her wrist, a small girl, long, black hair, she’s beaming at her. You can only assume that’s Mina. “Ji! There’s someone I want you to meet!”
Jihyo nods toward her, and then the girl is tugging at her arm, and Jihyo shoots you an apologetic look. “I’ll find you later!”
“Don’t worry about it!” you wave your hand, feeling a pang of disappointment in your gut. Fuck. You absolutely fumbled that. Fuck.
You turn back to your friends with regret heavy in your eyes. You take another gulp of beer before deflating into the table, debating guzzling the pitcher Jongho brought back.
“How’d it go?” Yunho asks as soon as you’re back in ear shot. You scowl. His lips flatten. “Can you give me more than just a look?”
You pout. “I barely got to say anything before the birthday girl pulled her away. Damn, I didn’t even say happy birthday.”
“You have all night,” San assures you from across the table.
Mingi cooes, “Oh my god, baby’s first gay-crush.”
You don’t even have the time to roll your eyes before Jongho starts cracking up, “What the fuck did I miss?”
“A lot,” you gruff out, picking up your beer again.
Yunho lowers it before you can bring it up to your lips, “Pace yourself, sunshine. We literally have all night.”
“Damn, no Jihyo and now no beer?” you complain, but your words are playful. “So bossy.”
“You know bossy, and that wasn’t bossy,” he reminds you, voice sliding into that velvety cadence.
Your gut warms. “Don’t start with that or else I’ll really give up on Jihyo.”
His grin is bright, satisfied. “You’re funny tonight.”
“I’m always funny,” you quip, slightly offended.
“I don’t even know how to flirt with her,” you’re talking to the table now. “How do you flirt with a girl who’s your friend?”
Yunjin answers, “You do know she’s super gay, right? Like she fucks with dudes but not nearly as much as women? I don’t think you even have to try that hard, she probably saw you all cute and flustered while you were talking to her.”
If your cheeks get any hotter, you might overheat like a cell phone on a fucking beach. Your elbow lands on the table, palm hitting your forehead. “I’m not cut out for this life.”
The table responds by laughing. The conversation moves on, San talks about the gym, Yunho talks about the really good weed he bought from a guy in his public speaking class, Mingi talks about the girl he slept with last weekend, and Jongho tells him he slept with her the weekend before.
You don’t have anything to add except a joke here and there or laughing along with the table. You can feel the absence of one, you catch yourself scanning the room, looking for a familiar head of black hair and bronzy skin. You don’t see him. You let the thought pass.
Mingi pulls you back to the conversation by asking, “Did you guys listen to the new episode of Unscripted?”
Yunjin’s eyes lift to yours. Your expression doesn’t so much as flicker.
“I listened!” San beams. “I think every single person in this room listened. Who’s side are you guys on?”
Yunho, without missing a beat, answers, “Mister Tall and Dominant.”
Your expression cracks, a smile forcing its way through the mask. He didn’t tell his friends it’s you— well, that it’s him.
Yunjin nods, “Same.” She’s definitely speaking just to add something to the conversation, because you know she’s team Wooyoung.
“What?” San gawks at the table, “Are you shitting me? She’s obviously in love with Mister Piss-Me-Off.”
“No she’s not,” you find yourself arguing. Defensively, too.
San looks at you like you’re ridiculous. “Did you listen to the way she talked about him? It was word vomit, she’s obsessed.”
There’s warning in the hinge of Yunjin’s jaw. You shrug, “I don’t know. I just don’t think it’s that serious. Unscripted fucks a new person every week, let’s be honest with ourselves here.”
“That’s true,” Mingi adds. “Just another fling. Content for the pod.”
“I didn’t even listen,” Jongho reveals, “but everyone keeps fucking talking about it. Who cares who she fucks?”
“We do, apparently,” Yunho adds with a little laugh, picking up his beer again. You should buy him something. Or fuck him really, really good tomorrow.
Yunjin’s body is so tight you think she might explode. “Can we go to the bathroom?” she asks, keeping her voice light, but you can hear the panic lining her tone because you know her.
You nod, sliding from the table, meeting her on the other side before walking with her toward the bathroom. She waits until you’re out of earshot before exploding, “How did you do that? How do you do that? I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack!”
You snort, rolling your eyes, “You did fine, Jen. You’re fine.”
“Does Yunho know?”
“He thinks I submitted the story,” you explain, approaching the neon pink Girls Room sign. The line isn’t too long, you lower your voice as you walk towards the end of it. “He knows it’s about him, but he doesn’t think I’m… Her.”
“How the hell did he figure that out?”
You shrug, “Don’t know, but he came to the conclusion on his own. I just agreed.”
Yunjin sighs. “He’s so fucking smart, but he’s kinda stupid at the same time.”
You giggle. “I don’t think he’s stupid at all, he’s like, one thought process away from putting all the pieces together.”
She presses her back up against the wall, brows furrowed over her shades. “That doesn’t scare you?”
“It does,” you nod. “I don’t know… he’s kind. I trust him. He didn’t tell everyone else the story was about him, I think if he ended up figuring it out, he’d keep it to himself, too.”
Her head tilts. “You don’t think he’d be upset that you kept it from him?”
“I mean, do you think he has a right to?”
Her lips purse, shoulders shrugging. “Maybe.”
You think on it, taking the spot beside her, sighing as you back up against the wall. You turn your head to her, “Do you really think Jihyo saw my flustered-ness as cute?”
She wears a lazy grin as she turns her head to you. “I think you’re cute when you’re flustered, so there’s no way she didn’t.”
Your smile brightens, cheeks warming all over again. It’s too fucking early into the night to break the seal, but you do anyway because the sound of the sinks running makes your bladder feel heavier than it’s ever been.
On the way back to the table, you spot her again. She’s talking to someone else you don’t know, a guy, tall, buff. He’s kinda hot. Her body language is friendly but your stomach jumps in warning, your mind and your legs are in agreement as you part ways with Yunjin to purposely interrupt her conversation this time.
“I found you first,” you say, cutting off whatever this fuckass guy is saying.
Jihyo beams, “And thank god you did.”
The guy pouts, “Why’s it suddenly fuck me?”
Jihyo laughs, smooth and pretty, “Sorry, Johnny.” She introduces the two of you, and then turns her attention fully on you. “Those pants make your legs look so fucking long. Is your top backless?”
You do a little spin, and she whistles. Whistles. Your cheeks are fucking burning when you turn back to her, and you desperately wish you had your beer.
She reads your mind. “Where’s your drink?”
You look at her empty hands. “Where’s yours?”
Her lips tighten in a grin. “Touché, let’s go to the bar.”
She grabs your hand and electricity shoots up your spine, excitement, adrenaline. Is this working? Are you doing it? You can’t tell. Your eyes drop while following behind her, taking in her curves, the way her hips way with every hurried step. She cuts through the layers of people before the bar like she’s the human version of a sword, shoulders back as she tugs you all the way up to the front.
She doesn’t let go of your hand when she gets up to the bar. She swings her upper half over the deep oak, giving you a perfect view of the way her shiny hair glistens under the lighting, how her back arches, ass poking out. She calls over the bartender like he’s working for her.
She orders two shots and two beers. Your brow pops as you lean in almost over her shoulder, “Shots aren’t free, Ji. Just get beers.”
Her head tilts, a tiny smirk on her lips. “I can’t buy you a shot?”
Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “Oh. Yes, you can. Thank you.”
Her smile widens, a tiny laugh falling off her tongue. “You’re so cute.”
Coming from her, you think maybe you don’t want to be cute. Coming from Yunjin, sure, cute is fine, but coming from Jihyo? You want to be as sexy as you think she is. You chew on your bottom lip, your cheeks flame anyway.
The bartender brings your shots and she thanks him, yelling an ‘add it to my tab’ before she hands one to you. It’s clear, vodka, your throat is already burning before a drop has touched your tongue.
“Cheers to new beginnings,” she holds up her plastic shot glass to you. “New beginnings, a new mindset, and freedom that you didn’t have before.”
You tease, “We’re still celebrating my breakup?”
“No, baby,” she shakes her head, smirk still playing on her lips. “I told you that you’re not a passive girl. You’re out of the funk.”
Baby sounds different on her lips now. Heat curls as you clink your plastic shot glass with hers, and shoot the vodka back. You whistle as you slam it back on the bar, sipping the beer that was waiting for you, letting it wash the aftertaste off the back of your throat.
“Fuck, I drink vodka, and taking shots still fucking burns,” you’re wiping off your lips again as you turn back to her, she looks unbothered as ever. “How are you not cringing?”
She shrugs, “I’m older than you. More experience.”
“You’re older than me by one year, Ji,” you almost roll your eyes, smile bending your lips. “How much more experience can you have?”
“A lot,” she says coolly before sipping her beer. “Trust me.”
Are you still talking about vodka? You can’t tell. Heat blooms, and whether it's from her words, the liquor, both, you don’t care.
“Tell me about the guy,” she starts again, still leaning up against the bar. She's holding her glass with two hands, hair off her shoulders, chest on display. She's radiating the same comforting dominance she always has, the one that makes you want to obey without even realizing you’re doing it.
“Yunho?” you question. “The tall, blonde one?”
“The one you’re casually fucking,” she corrects, or points out, you don’t know.
Your legs cross as you lean up against the bar, too. “He’s sweet. He takes care of me.”
She hums, looking you up and down, and doesn’t do a damn thing to hide it. “Do you need to be taken care of?”
“Sometimes,” you answer, feeling the weight of her gaze. “Sometimes not.”
Her smile grows. “Good,” she leans forward a little more, closing some of the distance between you. “Is he taking care of you tonight?”
Your heartbeat picks up, mouth going dry. You sip your beer, and then shake your head. “N-no, he’s not.”
She looks like she’s won, satisfied as hell. “Do you want to dance with me?”
You’re nodding profusely, you don’t even say the word yes before she’s grabbing your hand again and tugging you toward the dance floor.
Wooyoung’s getting real sick of the Lucky Penny. He feels like he’s spending his entire fucking week in the step-above-shithole bar, but maybe he’s just allowing himself be angry at the Penny because the alternative is too damning. It’s been two days and it’s still eating him alive, the way you looked at him in his car, like you never want to speak to him again. He doesn’t know why that hurts the way it does.
He shouldn’t care, oh, he shouldn’t give a flying fuck. But he does, and he fucking hates it.
The way he came home to Yunho with fucking word vomit, getting the entire sequence of events off his chest because he felt guilty. He didn’t even do anything and he felt fucking guilty. The batting cage, the diner, he never should have done any of it knowing that you and Yunho are exclusive. He shouldn’t have let himself get to know you any better, and he sure as hell shouldn’t have let you know him.
But it’s so fucking hard to stop himself when he’s around you. Usually it’s his dick controlling him, and… and– and it still is. He just wants to fuck you. He’s gotten a taste of you, and he’s hungry for the rest.
He has to tell himself that with every pretty face that looks at him inside the Penny. Every wink, every longing stare, every fuckable face he sees he has to remind himself that the only reason you’re on his mind is because he’d rather fuck you.
He didn’t mean to be late tonight. Every outfit in his closet didn’t seem appropriate, and by the time he was on the fifth outfit he almost yelled out in frustration because when the fuck has he ever cared about his outfit? No one in the Penny is looking at his goddamn outfit. Every woman whose eyes land on him is thinking he’s sexy, or they’ve heard he’s great in bed and they’re wondering if it’s true, every woman is debating if they’ll have a chance to find out, tonight. And they won’t. None of them will fucking know because you’re suddenly a drug, a fucking poison he accidentally injected into his veins.
It’s disgusting. He needs to get drunk.
He approaches the bar, slams his card on the oak. The bartender tells him something about a keg, he orders whiskey on the fucking rocks. He’s not drinking draft Miller fucking Lite tonight.
“Oh no,” Sana approaches him, a glass of beer in one hand. She looks pretty, hair tied back, showing enough skin that usually would make Wooyoung want to find out what the rest looks like. “It’s gotten worse. What’s wrong with you?”
He takes a swig of whiskey, doesn’t cringe as it burns its way down. “Nothing,” he answers. Short, definitely not sweet.
“Should you be here with an attitude like that?” she asks, brows raised. “Drinking hard liquor, of all things?”
He gives her a blank stare. “I don’t have an attitude.”
“Let me ask you something, then,” she stands a little straighter. “If I asked you to fuck me in the bathroom right now, would you do it?”
“I just got here,” he answers, voice flat. “Can you ask me after I’ve made my rounds? Scouted the rest?”
She laughs, but it’s hollow. “Glad to find out the whore is still in there. For a second, I thought you were upset about a girl.”
He gives her a look, eyes hard, brows flat. His jaw clenches as he swallows down some more whiskey. “I’ll never be upset about a girl, Sana. You know that.”
She looks at him sideways like she doesn’t really believe him. “Whatever you have going on, you better fix it real quick. No one wants a miserable man drinking hard fucking liquor at a birthday party.”
She turns on her heel, miniskirt dancing on her hips as she disappears into the crowd. Something tight within his chest unwinds as her words sink in. She’s right. Anger isn’t a fucking party favor. He sighs, more so pushes whatever he can get out from his chest, hoping it’s all the frustration and confusion that’s bottled up inside him.
He rolls his shoulders before walking through the crowd, ignoring the eyes, saying hi here and there to those who say hi to him, he spots San before anyone else. He doesn’t know how he recognized him, he’s currently mauling Yunjin’s face off, standing beside a tall table filled with a half-filled pitcher of beer and eight tall glasses. Some empty, some full, some half-empty.
Mingi and Jongho are talking, clearly trying to ignore the way San’s basically having sex in the middle of the bar. He approaches the two, “Not watching the show?”
“That’s something only someone like you would enjoy,” Jongho grins, clasping Wooyoung’s hand.
Mingi does the same before adding, “Are you about to?”
“Not in the mood,” Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders. “Who else is here?”
Jongho points toward Yunho, who’s standing a foot behind Wooyoung. His brows furrow, “The fuck is he doing?”
“Go find out,” Mingi says, full of amusement.
Wooyoung’s brows furrow, but he walks up to Yunho anyway, curious. He’s facing the dance floor, Wooyoung follows his line of sight, squinting as he tries to find what the older man is looking at.
His stomach drops when he sees it. You’re… you’re kissing someone. You’re kissing a girl. You’re kissing the only fucking girl in that goddamn friend group that he hasn’t fucked. Yunho might have to pick his jaw up from the floor.
“You’re– you’re watching this?” Wooyoung’s voice is shakier than he wants it to be.
Yunho smiles. “I’m about to stop, it feels weird to watch. They just started making out.”
Wooyoung doesn’t understand. His mind is moving a mile a fucking minute. He asks, “You’re okay with that?”
Yunho finally looks at him, and he’s wearing a prideful smile. “Of course I’m okay with it.” Wooyoung blinks at him. Once, twice. Yunho laughs like he can’t help it. “We’re not exclusive anymore.”
Wooyoung’s jaw might be on the floor again. “Are you serious?”
Yunho nods, “Sorry it didn’t happen before she tried to kiss you.”
Wooyoung’s face drops, and so does his stomach. You told him?
He starts, guilt lining his tone, “Yun–”
“Don’t apologize,” Yunho shakes his head. “We’re cool.”
Wooyoung nods, and his eyes betray him as they lead out to the dance floor again. He doesn’t even fucking know her name, but your hands are on her cheeks, her hands on your waist, no– one hand is on your waist, the other is on your ass, squeezing it. You’re kissing her like you can’t get enough of her, like there isn’t a single part of you that’s second-guessing it, like you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything.
He swallows. He can feel the whiskey at the bottom of his stomach, heavy, leaden. You’re– you’re kissing someone else. You’re kissing a fucking girl. You just ended exclusivity with Yunho and you’re kissing someone fucking else?
He turns, walking past Yunho, past Mingi, Jongho, past San and Yunjin who look like they don’t even need air to breathe anymore. He sets the half-full glass of whiskey on the table, and announces to anyone who can fucking hear him, “I’m leaving.”
Jongho calls from behind him, “You just fucking got here!”
Wooyoung ignores him, then ignores every other person who tries to get his attention before he leaves the Lucky Penny.
Jihyo kisses you differently than Yunho kisses you. Different from Wooyoung. From Yeonjun. She kisses you like she’s trying to prove something, no, like she wants you to prove something. Like there’s still a part of you shielded, a part of you that’s begging to be released, and she wants to be the one to pull it out of you. Where her hands go, you arch into her touch. When her tongue pries your lips open, you let her explore until it evokes a soft moan from the back of your throat. When your hands finally find her cheeks, when one drops to her waist, her soft sigh makes your brain short-circuit.
You made her make a noise. A sound. Of pleasure. You did that.
Your eyes open in surprise just to see her lips parted, her head tipped back, her spine bent toward you. The sight of someone else swimming in a haze of pleasure has never been so fucking beautiful. It’s sheer instinct to kiss her again, harder this time, your tongue pushing past her lips, your hands on her hips, needing more of her.
You’ve imagined this a thousand times, usually alone, in your bed, sometime around twilight. You’ve imagined her, her face blown out with pleasure, dark eyes heavy with arousal, and in each and every daydream, you’ve been the reason why. You didn’t think it could feel this good, even just from some fucking kissing, to make someone else feel good.
Her nails dig into the fabric of your pants, sinking into your skin beneath. You hiss into her mouth and she smiles into the kiss, “What is this, baby?”
“What?” you ask, brain cloudy, consumed with lust.
“Are we just gonna make out on the dance floor?” she asks, then her teeth grab onto your bottom lip, biting soft enough to tease. “Or do I get more of you?”
Her chest presses against yours, your brows furrow, jaw cracking open. “You– you want more?”
“Are you kidding me?” she asks with a little laugh, and even that makes your gut churn with heat. “Do you want more?”
“I–” you’re panting, breaths layered. “Yes– yeah, I want– yes.”
Her grin turns to a nasty smirk, “Come.”
She tugs on your hand, pulling you through the crowd, and your eyes drift over the heads to your left. He’s exactly where you left him, with Mingi, with Jongho, they’re laughing about something. Like he can feel your gaze, his head turns, meeting your eye. He smiles, and it’s so fucking full of warmth that it eases something inside you that you didn’t realize needed to be eased.
You’re smiling, too, as Jihyo tugs you through the crowd, turning a corner around the entrance to the bathrooms, tugging on the bronze door handle to what looks like a coat closet. Or a supply closet.
You don’t have time to decipher which, because as soon as she gets you inside the closet, she has you pinned to the door. Her lips are on yours again, sloppier, like her restraint is running thin, you hear the door lock before her hands push your hips into the door.
Your hands fly to her hair, fingers tangling at the nape of her neck, tugging ever so slightly. Her neck bends backward with a sharp sound, and you follow, attaching your lips again because even a fucking second without it is too long.
Her hands slide up your waist, cupping over your chest, squeezing your boobs through your bra. Your hips twitch, canting forward, the tips of your tongues still touching.
“This your first time?” she asks, panting. “With a girl?”
You nod, voice breathy and layered, “Yeah.” She smiles wide, her eyes flaring. You laugh a little, “What?”
“You should be happy it’s me,” she whispers, huskier now. Her hands slide down to your hips, one hand coming to the center to toy with the button to your pants.
“Yeah?” There’s cockiness in your tone, from a part of yourself that you haven’t cracked open yet. It’s dark in the closet, the light seeping through the bottom of the door lighting her face from below. “You wanna take care of me?”
“Do you need to be taken care of?” she asks again, head tilting. One of her fingers slips into the waistband of your pants, tugging them toward her.
You don’t. You want to show her that you don’t.
One hand slides around her waist, turning her swiftly until her back is pressed up against the door. She laughs, and it’s arrogant as hell, “You wanna take care of me?”
“I can take care of you,” you murmur, now the words feel less foreign on your tongue. You think of the sound she made earlier, the soft noise of pleasure you pulled from her. You want to hear it again.
The way her grin beams with pride only makes you kiss her harder, more confidence in your hands, pressing into the skin you can feel in the cutouts of her dress. She hooks a leg around you and you slot one leg between hers, pressing exactly where you know she needs it.
She gasps, her manicured nails finding your shoulders, her hips immediately grinding up against your pant leg. You dip your head under her jawline, leaving open-mouthed kisses down her neck as her hips work against your thigh.
One hand finds her ass as you murmur, “Yes.” She moans and a surge of heat boils through your blood, especially as her head dips back. It thuds against the door, giving you access to her neck. Your lips suck at the spot where her neck meets her chest, just above her collarbone.
She moans a little louder, mumbling a choked out ‘fuck’ as she works up a rhythm against your thigh. You can feel the heat, the wetness seeping through, you want to clench your thighs together. You want to feel it. You want to taste it.
Your hands slide up her waist, fingers settling over her chest, squeezing. She squeaks out another moan, one of her hands tugging at your roots, making you moan, too.
You tug at her straps, sliding them down her arms until she gets herself free. You reach behind her, two hands working the clasp of her bra until you pull it off of her, throwing it on the floor.
Fuck. “You’re so fucking sexy, Ji, oh my god.”
“Please,” she whimpers. Whimpers. You think you might have moaned again at the sound. “I wanna see you, too.”
You untie your top at the back of your neck, letting it fall over the front of your pants until it pools at your hips. You don’t give her a chance to compliment you back, kissing her again, and her hips pick back up the rhythm against your thigh, harder this time.
“Shit, Ji,” you choke out, grabbing at the hem of her dress, tugging it upward, watching how she drags her panty-clad cunt over your thigh. “Yes, use me, fuck.”
“Want you,” she mutters, thick with arousal. “Want more. Mouth, fingers, I don’t care.”
Her panties, thin, black and lacy, you slide your palm underneath the waistband, greeted with a thick wetness, so much fucking wetness that you gasp.
“Holy shit, you’re wet,” you marvel.
She giggles, throwing her head back against the door again. “All for you, baby. You wanna taste it?”
Keeping your eyes on her, you pull your hand from her panties, and bring your fingers to your mouth. Tangy sweet, her brows knit together at the sight of you shoving your fingers past your lips, tasting her, enjoying her.
“Sweet,” you tease, and her hips jerk at the word. You want more. You want to taste all the wetness that's built up for you.
Sinking down to your knees, she watches as you reach up for her panties, slowly dragging them down her toned, muscled legs. “Tell me…” you trail off, searching for the words. “Tell me if you like it. Okay?”
“You know what to do,” she assures you, nodding. “But I’ll tell you, baby.”
You throw her leg over her shoulder, fingers dancing over her soft skin, feeling the dips of her muscles as your lips press small kisses toward the apex of her thighs. Her breathing grows labored, her hips twitching toward you.
You finally look at her core, glistening even under the darkness of the closet. You curse under your breath at the sight, so fucking beautiful, you’re throbbing, your own hips twitching, trying to get some kind of friction in your pants.
Like a dog to a fucking bone, you bring your lips to her core, pressing one soft, steady kiss to her clit. She hisses, one hand flying to your hair and you welcome it as your tongue pokes out from between your lips, tasting her from bottom to top.
Her moan is soft, coated in relief. It gives you a little more confidence, massaging your tongue against her clit, her fingers tightening in your roots as a sharp, gasped moan tumbles off her tongue.
“Yes,” she moans out, hips twitching into your tongue. “Just like that.”
You look upward, taking in her tight brows, her parted, glossy lips. She’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying you.
One hand stays on her thigh over your shoulder, the other holds the skin just above her knee. You keep your tongue flat as she grinds herself against it, head tilting backward as she chokes out a heavy, “Fu–uck.”
Your brows tie together, a moan falling past your lips. You wrap your lips around her clit, sucking, and you feel her spine go rigid, you can hear her toes curl against the leather of her sole, the heel poking at your back. Her hips stutter, jaw clenched like she was too aware of the noise she’s making.
“Let me hear you,” you break away to say quickly, fast enough that you barely register that the words feel familiar. “Fuck whoever else hears.”
“Uh-huh,” she’s nodding as you dive back into her core again, tongue lapping at her folds, flicking at her clit in a steady rhythm.
“Holy shit,” she gasps out. “Fuck, fuck, keep doing that.”
You do, you will your head into stillness, a wall that she can fuck herself against. Her hips roll, using your head for purchase as she uses you, uses your face, your tongue.
You can feel it, the tremor in her legs, how her hips start to lose rhythm. You keep it instead, never faltering, watching as her mouth stretches wider, as her brows tie further together. She’s close.
Feeling, knowing she’s almost there is enough to keep your body a rock, you want to watch her come undone. Her moans heighten in pitch, breaking up in staccato until her breath gets caught in her chest, and then she starts to shake.
She cries out your name as she comes, fingers tightening in your hair like she might rip it out of your head, but you don’t fucking care. You eat her through it, letting her shake and convulse on your face, you lick up every last drop.
“Easy,” she finally says, breathing labored, letting go of your head. She collapses into the door, chest heaving as you sit back into your thighs, running a hand through your hair, too aware of the sweat gliding down your spine.
After a minute of just breathing, she starts to laugh. You blink at her before a smile curves your lips, and then you start laughing, too.
“I didn’t even know you liked girls,” she says, fixing her panties into place. “I’m learning so much about you tonight.”
The grin you give her is lazy, your head tilting, falling onto your shoulder. You wipe at your wet chin, “I’ve always liked girls, you’ve just always known me with a boyfriend.”
She’s shaking her head as she picks her bra up from the floor. “He’s a demon.” She’s clipping it behind her back as she asks, “Can I take care of you now?”
Your head tilts to the other side, thinking. You don’t really need more, you already got what you wanted, and the satisfaction of making her come on your face is enough. And it’s strange, different in a way you can’t pick apart, that you chose this, and you got it. And Jihyo’s still your friend.
Your grin is coy, “I don’t really know how to say no, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, or think I don’t want you or something. But I’m kinda good.”
Her brows raise as she crouches down into her calves, almost eye level with you in her heels. She smiles like she’s amused, “You’re kinda good?”
You laugh, grabbing for your straps, attempting to tie them around the back of your neck. “Not that I don’t… I don’t know. I’m tired.”
“I’m sure you are,” she drawls, amused. “You just ate pussy for the first time and did an incredible fucking job.”
Your cheeks warm. “You enjoyed it?”
“I came, did I not?” Her brows raise before she stands up again, moving around you to help you tie your top at the back of your neck again. She presses a kiss to the top of your head after finishing off the knot, “You’re like… I don’t know. Different than you were with the demon. I really am proud of you.”
You tilt your head backward to see her, and she’s just as beautiful upside down. “You think so?”
“In a good way,” she nods. “You’re more comfortable in your skin. Confident. It looks good on you.”
You beam, “Thanks, Ji.”
“Come on,” she stands up straight again, reaching for your hand. “I’m hosting, people are gonna start to notice I left to fuck one of my friends in a closet.”
You erupt into laughter as she pulls you up, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t believe you just did that. You can, actually, because you chose to do it. You can’t wait to tell Yunho.
When you leave the closet again, everything feels brighter. It's almost as if the music is turned back on, or someone fucked with the dimness of the lighting, you aren’t sure. She keeps your fingers locked until you spot Yunho again, letting you go with a kiss to your cheek and a whispered ‘love you’ in your ear.
Your cheeks are warm again as you approach Yunho, “You’re lucky you made it, the Uber’s out front.”
You gasp, “You would have left me?”
Yunho beams. “No, silly. I would’ve sent Yunjin and San home, absolutely, but I would have stayed for you.”
“Good,” you lean into him as you sort through the mass of bodies, following behind Yunjin and San who were somehow still making out. They take a step, kiss, take a step, kiss. You look up at Yunho, “Has it been that way all night?”
“He owes me for it,” Yunho says nonchalantly. “That’s all I’m saying.”
You laugh, then you notice your purse over his shoulder, poking into your back. It warms you all over, you think this might have actually been the best day of your life. The most affirming day of your life. Almost as if you’re really one with Unscripted. You might be getting closer.
“Did you have fun?” he asks when you get outside, while San and Yunjin, then Mingi and Jongho pile into the minivan Uber.
You nod, “I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
“I can’t wait to hear,” he says, letting you climb into the car first, then following behind you.
You think Yunjin might’ve sat on San’s lap the entire ride home. You think they might have done more in the backseat besides makeout, but you didn’t look. Ignorance is bliss.
You’re still in that state of bliss as you walk through the front door of his frat, climbing all the way up the stairs, and collapsing in Yunho’s bed as soon as it’s in sight.
Yunho closes the door behind him, “Oh, she tired you out, huh?”
“I think I tired her out,” you turn your head so you can see him, smirking at him.
He undresses himself quickly, yawning, back arching in a stretch as his pants pool at his ankles. You kick all your clothes off, too, your pants, your top.
When you climb into bed together, you lay on opposite sides, but neither of you feel the distance. And then you tell him everything, every detail, until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore.
masterlist 🍬
i’m horny i’m horny i’m horny.
the fact that two gay people fucked in a closet of all places is killing me.
but the PARALLELS. holy shit. when the scene started becoming familiar, i literally stood up from my bed. i don’t even know what to say. you took an incredible direction with this scene!!! wow. i’m horny and also really touched by the mc’s growth (???). i’m laughing at the fact that jihyo is the one person wooyoung didn’t get to fuck LMAOOO
anyway! can’t wait for wooyoung to stop avoiding his issues. yunho is so supportive and so sexy but at the same time i’m like please he’s my friend…. IDK IM SO READY!!! FOR ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING.
[𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙴𝚉]𝙿𝙾𝚅: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 ’𝚋𝚛𝚘’ 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
𝙿𝚝.𝟷 𝙿𝚝. 𝟸 𝙿𝚝. 𝟹 𝙿𝚝. 𝟺
𝚋𝚏!𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚏!𝚢𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢, 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢!!!!
guys....
'BAD' 260704
260704
Hi!! I read your switch!ateez agenda and now I’m desperate for servicedom! Sannie
oh TRUST i have multiple drafts of this. i wanna hear ur thoughts pls tell me more!!! like more specific things u might look for ?? i love seeing my inbox full of ideas
teaser for my upcoming san fic... (yes, fic) 😅😅👀👀👀👀🫣🫣🫣
reply to be tagged hahahaha.... 😳😳😳
comment if you're EXCITED, like if you're CRAZY, reblog if you're HUNGRY
💤 anon here <3
switch yeosang agenda 💆 im saying 🤞
can i share my switchteez agenda…
hongjoong has a heavy lean towards dominance. but if you can get him under you his whimpers are CRAZY. he’d try it out if you liked it! doesn’t take himself too seriously when he’s the one underneath. kinda embarrassed, actually. it might be a little awkward the first few times, but helping him decompress by taking the lead easily becomes something to look forward to. he will put you in your place if he feels you’re overdoing it, though. sorry.
seonghwa is a huge service dom. like he’s finishing just from eating you out. your pleasure to him is what matters most, and he’s gentle even when you ask him to be rougher. probably tries to be strict, but he crumbles so easily when it comes to you. he could lean into submission for sure. he enjoys watching you learn how to pull the strings. it’s just always a mind-blowing experience, no matter who’s doing what. that mouth on him is too good.
yunho would try submitting just for fun and end up liking it a lot more than expected. you bring it up and he’s like “haha sure”. fully expects that he’s gonna have to end up flipping you over. ends up breathless and kinda shy about it. in a ‘i just discovered something new about myself’ way. but he’d still prefer to call the shots most of the time. sorry again.
yeosang switch. he’s just overly eager to please. so he can either have you in a tight headlock from behind or be shaking as you deny him. so dynamic. malleable to whatever you want him to be. but he groans just the same no matter what. yum!
san is also a service dom. even in his dirty talk, he’s centering how you feel and what you want. he’d be so down to let you take charge, if you brought it up to him. but you’d have to ease him into it a little. vulnerability is huge for him regarding intimacy. trust is really important too, so that aspect really does it for him. like handing over full control to you is so sentimental that it turns him on. he slips into it so easily afterwards, he begs so pretty. yeah.
mingi’s just easy asf for you. he likes his hands on you as much as he enjoys your hands on him. he just loves having all your attention, regardless of the power dynamic. you could switch ten times in an hour without missing a beat. by the time you’re done, you don’t even remember who brought the handcuffs and who wore them or what day it is, really.
wooyoung can take any role from any position, genuinely. he’d try anything at least once and he would not make a big deal out of disliking something new. like oh, well, now you know, and you move on. zero shame. but shove your fingers in his mouth and spit at him, he likes it just because it’s you. he’s probably the most experimental member. so he encourages you to bring all your curiosity to your intimacy. he’ll have crazy requests too. everything’s just so easy and carefree that telling him you wanna try slapping him feels like discussing the weather. “could i slap you?” is met with a “how hard?” no further questions asked.
jongho prefers to have control. manhandling you is his favorite thing ever. you MIGHT get a little control if you’re with him for a while. don’t expect full on agreement the first few times you bring it up. he might laugh a little, but if you genuinely want to try, he’ll reluctantly give in. he’s just a little scared of vulnerability. but he also enjoys it a little more than he expected. will probably not admit it. you need to be really subtle if you try to spontaneously turn the tables. he’s just so focused on you that being submissive to him feels selfish. lots of trust and communication needed.
YEOSANG GOLDEN HOUR : Part.5 Jacket Making Film
Yeah.
YEOSANG GOLDEN HOUR : Part.5 Jacket Making Film
at least you know how to jump a car now
🎤︎︎ wooyoung x fem!reader | college au, mini-series, part 11/? 🎤︎︎ 18+ | 5.8k words | reader is the host of a sex podcast, wooyoung is a frat boy whore, yunho is actually the only man ever. i lied
“NO.”
She readjusts herself on the couch, knees pressed into the cushions, standing on them with her hands braced on the back. Taking a physical breath, tone relaying what she already knows, she says, “I’m gonna give you one more chance to be honest with me. Is it you?”
You’re frozen, standing before your now closed door, heart beating out of your fucking chest. You blink, swallowing once, twice. You can trust her. Can you? She seems angry. Is she angry?
In a whisper, you answer, “Yes.”
She covers her mouth with one hand, chocolate brows tying together above wide eyes. “Oh my god. You’re— do you have any idea what people are saying about you?” You nod, timid, body still tight. She rips her hand from her mouth while putting the pieces together, “How fucking long— I don’t even understand— you don’t sing.”
“I don’t sing,” you repeat, still whispering because you don’t trust your voice at any other volume.
Still holding onto the back of the couch, she lowers herself until she’s sitting on her calves, eyes still wide, jaw still slacked. She looks up at you and there’s a ghost of a frown on her lips, her voice shaky as she realizes, “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie,” you’re quick to defend. “I just didn’t tell you.”
Your name falls from her lips coated in disappointment. “You deliberately kept it from me.”
Disappointment is worse than anger. “I kept it from everyone, Jen.”
“I’m not everyone!” she nearly whimpers, her voice cracking, strained. “This is a whole side of you I don’t know, this is— this is like a whole half of you that I know nothing about! Do you know how many episodes I listened to before I even recognized your voice?”
Your bottom lip quivers, jaw hinged tight. Her words are like an arrow through your fucking chest.
“I only realized because you told a story about me. I recognized my own story on my best friend’s secret fucking podcast,” she doesn’t move as she seethes, like she’s frozen in place, too. Your heart wrenches with guilt. “Don’t you think maybe you should have asked me, maybe run it past me that this exists before posting my story online?”
You’re nodding, fumbling over your words. “I’m sorry, that’s why it’s anonymous—”
“I don’t care!” she yells, standing up off the couch. “I know it’s me, and now I know it’s you.”
Panic surges through you with force. “Please— Jen, please don’t tell anyone.”
She stares at you, arms flat at her sides, face twisted in heartbreak. You almost open your mouth again, ready to beg, but she cuts it off by asking, “You don’t trust me, do you?”
You shake your head. “Of course I—”
Her voice raises again, “You didn’t trust me with your secret, and now you don’t trust me to keep it. You think I’d expose you after you created an entire double life based on fucking anonymity?”
A double life. Is that really what Unscripted is? A different half of you? Another person detached from yourself, your own personality? Is anything about her, you? Is anything about you, her?
You try a step forward. “I trust you, Jen. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice cracks again, shoulders slumping, face going round. This is so much fucking worse than anger. The sadness, the disappointment… She feels betrayed.
Your lips part, a strained, guilty noise forcing its way through. You can’t form any words, you don’t know what the fuck you could possibly say to make any of this better.
Words you’ve said too often lately, you find them inside you again, “I don’t know.”
Now, it just sounds pathetic. A sorry fucking excuse for lying to, for hurting your best friend, your roommate, your sister. But you don’t have a reason; you knew she wouldn’t judge you, you knew she wouldn’t tell anyone, and yet you still didn’t tell her. You don’t know why.
“You don’t know?” she repeats, like she didn’t hear you the first time. “You’ve spent months strategically hiding this from me, and you don’t know why?”
Your lips quiver, eyes stinging, chest growing tight. She sees it, but she holds her ground, “Were you ever going to tell me?”
You don’t trust your voice, so you shake your head. You could have gone your entire life without anyone knowing you’re the face behind the name, the voice behind the stories, the advice, the vulgarity. Tears fall.
She shakes her head like she can’t choose which words she wants to say first. She looks at the floor. “We live together, we share everything. You know everything about me.” She looks up again, nose twitching with what you’re sure is tears trapped in her chest, “You trusted hundreds— maybe thousands of people with personal, sensitive information I don’t know about you. How is that fair?”
“They don’t know who I am, Jen,” you blurt, your voice coated in a cry. You still haven’t moved from the door, there’s too much space between you, and it feels wider with each exchange.
“I do!” she finally shouts, pointing at her chest, a single tear falling down her cheek. “I know you and I fucking love you, what are you so scared of? That I’m not going to love you anymore because you make up stories on a podcast?”
“I don’t make them up,” your voice drops in defense. “They’re all true, at least a piece of them is, even if they didn’t happen to me.”
She laughs, but it’s hollow, you can hear the congestion in her sinuses. “That’s what you took from that? You think I’m calling you a liar?”
“No—”
“Do you even understand why I’m upset?” she shouts, patience thinning. “We’ve known each other for years! I thought I knew you down to the fucking bone, and you hid something this— this huge from me. This is huge, the episode you posted today, everyone is talking about it!”
“I know!” you shout back, taking another step forward. “I know they’re talking about it and I’m terrified! I didn’t mean for this to happen—”
“Who are they?” Her voice is suddenly calm again as she brings the heel of her palm up to her nose. “I know the tall one is Yunho, who’s the other one?”
You pause, heart dropping. You don’t want to tell her. You have no choice but to fucking tell her. You think your heart might fall out of your ass fully as you mumble, “Wooyoung.”
She blinks at you. “Wooyoung? Like, Jung Wooyoung? Black hair? Whore? The one I’ve slept with? That Jung Wooyoung?” Embarrassed, terrified of what her response will be, all you can do is nod. Her palms hit her forehead as she circles the coffee table, pacing. She stops again when she’s facing you, piecing it together, “So Tall is Yunho, PMO is Wooyoung. You asked Wooyoung for sex advice about Yunho because you had sex with Wooyoung.”
“No,” you answer with certainty. “I haven’t had sex with Wooyoung.”
“What?” Her hands find her forehead again. “You said you trust him, that he knows you or whatever. Fuck, I fucking knew something was weird with you two at the Penny. What the fuck did you do?”
You look down at his hoodie still on your body, you remember everything you said to him fifteen fucking minutes ago. What did you do? Too much. Too much to come back from.
Yunjin looks too, apparently. “Whose hoodie is that?” Your head snaps up, mouth going dry. “I recognize that fucking hoodie, he– what did you do?”
As if it’s instinct, you drop your shit at the small table beside the door and rip the fucking hoodie over your head, throwing it to the floor like it’s on fire. It feels criminal to be wearing it, like he’s in the room with you, sharing your defeat. She watches it fall to the floor then looks back at you, then to the hoodie again like she’s buffering, trying to put pieces that you still haven’t given her together.
“Why him?” she mutters from across the room. “Why does he know you? Why does he get to know things I don’t?”
“He doesn’t know about Unscripted,” you mutter just as quietly, chest rising and falling with every single nerve beneath your skin.
“We’ll circle back to Unscripted,” she’s quick to fire back. “Trust me. Right now, I want you to tell me why Jung Wooyoung knows things about you that I don’t.”
You hate the words that you swear you can taste now, “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” she argues, voice edged with frustration. “Tell me. Or is this something else you can’t trust me with?”
“I don’t fucking know!” your voice raises, strained because you fucking mean it. “I don’t tell him anything, I asked him for advice about Yeonjun and now he knows things about me. I don’t sit down and tell him my fucking secrets, he just— when he says things about me, they’re right.”
“It started with Yeonjun?” Her eyes widen, hands flying to her roots again. “What the fuck? How long has this– I don’t even know what the fuck to call it. When did you hook up?”
“The night you took me out to get over Yeonjun,” you answer without a second thought. “He found out– whatever, we hooked up in a random bedroom. We didn’t have sex, though.”
Her brows are knitted together. “Then what did you do?”
“I– he– did you listen to the episode about overstimulation?”
Her face drops. “That was him?”
You nod, bringing your hands up to rub at your face, the words falling from your lips like water now, “That was right before Yunho, and like, literally right before Yunho. And since Yunho, him and I have been weird until I asked him for advice at the Penny, now we’re normal again and he picked me up from work because my car died and then he took me to a batting cage and a diner and then I told him I want to kiss him–”
“What?” she interrupts you, blinking rapidly. “What? Tonight?”
Your voice heightens in pitch, “Like, maybe fifteen minutes ago?”
“What the fuck,” her palm covers her mouth again. “What the fuck?”
“I didn’t kiss him,” you whisper, cheeks heating all over again. “He said he couldn’t do that to Yunho.”
“Wooyoung said no,” she repeats like she can’t fucking believe it. You nod. “I can’t believe you were the one– since I’ve met you– what the fuck is going on?”
“Wooyoung!” you finally yell. “Ever since I met him my life has been derailed. He knows me, but the more he knows me the less I know me, like he can see through me, I- I can’t explain it.”
She gets quiet before she says your name, it sounds pitiful, like she feels bad for you. Your stomach fucking hurts.
“Come sit down,” she says calmly, pointing to the couch.
You blink at her, “Jen–”
“Sit down or I swear to god,” she cuts you off, voice stern. You jump into movement, feet carrying you toward the couch as she commands, “You’re telling me everything and you’re going to be honest.”
You’re nervous as you sit on the farthest cushion, knees pinned together, fingers curling into the plush beneath you. “What about Unscripted?”
“I didn’t forget about it,” she sits on the other side of the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. “But my best friend who has always been in a committed relationship is acting really out of character right now and I need to know why.”
You run your fingers through your hair as you sink into the couch, your heart split in two. But you tell her, you tell her every single detail, from the night you met Wooyoung to the night you brought Yunho home to what happened before you walked through the door to your apartment.
“Do you remember the night you found out about Yeonjun? The basket?” she asks when you finally finish, as if she’s been sitting on the question. You nod. “I asked you if he saw you, if he made you feel special.”
“He didn’t, he never did, I know that–”
“He seems like he does,” she dips her chin. “Wooyoung.”
“Yunho sees me,” you argue. “Yunho is good to me. I’m fucked up for wanting Wooyoung like that.”
“No you’re not,” she quickly argues. “I mean, I don’t think you’re fucked up. It's instinct. You were together the whole night, it makes sense.”
Your voice goes quiet, “He was right, though.”
“Yes, and you didn’t kiss him,” her upper body moves like she’s telling you the obvious. “You didn’t act on the impulse.”
“Because he stopped me,” you laugh a little on the words. “If he had kissed me, I would have fucked him, Jen.” Yunjin stays quiet, thinking, chewing on her bottom lip. Your head dips backward, “Fuck, I should tell him, shouldn’t I?”
“Yunho?” She asks.
“Yes,” you sigh. “It’s not fair if he’s committed to me and that’s all it takes for me to jump some other guy’s bones.”
Yunjin snorts, “I don’t think this is just some other guy, babe, but I get what you’re saying.” Her lips scrunch to one side, “Do you even want to be committed to Yunho? Do you want to be committed to anyone right now?”
Your chest feels hollow. “I don’t know.” She nods like she was expecting that answer. “Isn’t that bad?” You lean forward a little. “I don’t– that’s not me.”
“Why can’t it be you?” She shrugs. “You’ve been in a relationship for almost all of your adult life, you don’t even know what it means to fuck around.”
“I don’t want to fuck around–”
“You sure?” she teases, a playful smile on her lips. “It sounds to me like you’re dying to fuck around, especially with Woo–”
“What’s he like?” you cut her off. Purposely. “In bed. Is it valid that everyone wants him?”
Her lips scrunch again, “Hate to break it to you, but yeah. Absolutely. Like, two-hundred percent–”
“Okay,” you cut her off again. “I get it.”
“This is all I wanted, by the way,” her voice is low again, serious.
Your brows tie together. “Huh?”
“With Yeonjun, when you finally let me in I felt like I understood you a little better. I love you, I want to know all of the things that make you, you.”
You frown, heart cracking in two all fucking over again. “I’m sorry, Jen.”
“And just to reassure you, I won’t tell anyone that you’re Unscripted,” she sits up a little, pushing herself up by the cushions. “But I will say that the more you say, the easier it is to connect you. How the fuck do you even sound like that? You barely sound like yourself.”
“I tweak it a little,” you grin. “Just a pinch, and it’s worked for me so far.” After another pause, your face rounds out as you say, “Thank you for keeping my secret. I’ll be more careful.”
“Sannie would lose his fucking mind if he knew,” she shakes her head, laughing a little. “Like, lose his fucking mind. Yunho, too. How do you keep a straight face?”
You shrug. “I do what I have to.”
“Scary,” her head tilts away from you. “You’re scary.”
“Prepared,” you correct her, holding up a finger. “If you’re gonna keep your identity a secret, you have to be prepared to defend that secret with your life.” Her eyes thin out, and your returning smile is coy. “My bad. I'm referring to everyone else now.”
The sun is fucking hot. Morning sun is different from evening sun, the air feels clearer, drier, the UV feels ripe, especially if there’s no breeze. There’s not a lick of wind brushing past you as you skip from your stairs into Yunho’s car, heart beating a mile a fucking minute, the sun stripping you as raw as you feel.
Yunjin knows, and she doesn’t hate you. Yunjin knows, and she still loves you. It should be enough to have you feeling on top of the world, relieved, light. But it’s not enough, and you don’t feel even the slightest bit relieved, because there’s more. You almost don’t believe that you have problems bigger than someone finding out you’re Unscripted, at one point you didn’t think it was possible.
You give him your cheek when you get into his car, but he doesn’t back from it, he doesn’t mind at all. He presses his lips softly into your skin, “Morning, sunshine.”
You can barely muster a smile. “Morning,” you mutter, giving him a one-over. Blonde hair pushed back, comfortable clothes on his body, that sliver of skin out to play like it always fucking is. Damn.
“Do you want to get coffee or something before we go?” he asks, already reversing his car out of the parking space right in front of your apartment.
You shake your head, hands sitting politely in your lap, “No, I’m okay. I had coffee already.”
“O-kay,” he hums, pulling out of your development, onto the main road. He looks at you from his peripherals as he asks, “Are you mad at me for not answering last night?”
“What?” you ask, abruptly. “No, oh my god, of course not.”
“Just checking,” he says casually, his head shaking a little. The silence you fall back into is palpable. You’re acting weird. You’re acting fucking guilty and you know it. You try to relax, stretching out your legs, your arms, you try to let your body deflate into his passenger seat. You think you might look like a drunk baby instead, trying to take up as much space as you can.
The drive seems infinitely longer than it usually is because you can’t get your head on straight. You’re paranoid, guilty, you know Yunho can feel that there’s something off but you can’t bring yourself to fucking speak.
Hey, just so you know, I wanted to kiss Wooyoung last night.
Before you do this favor for me, I want to tell you that I wanted to fuck your friend last night.
You shouldn’t have ever entered exclusivity with me because I’m a fucking mess.
You sigh. He feels it as he pulls into the parking lot of the gym, parking his car in the spot right next to your car. You think of last night, Wooyoung in this exact parking space, you screaming at him to unlock the door under a blanket of rain.
You never deserved Yunho to begin with.
“Can I ask you something?” Yunho asks, turning his key in the ignition, engine going dead. You nod, sitting up a little, heart knocking against your breastplate. “Did you submit a story to Unscripted?”
You blink. “What?”
He tugs on the handle of his door, climbing out of the driver’s seat. You do the same, keeping your eyes on him the entire time. He talks as he walks up to your car, popping the hood, “Her newest episode is going viral, and it just… sounds familiar.”
You lean your backside up against the passenger side door, “How does it sound familiar?”
He ducks to give you a flat stare around your car’s hood. “Mister Tall and Dominant? Asked him to be more dominant, and he did it as soon as she brought it up?”
You reach for ignorance, at least for a little while longer. “That could be anyone, Yunho. Why do you think it’s you?”
“Because the other guy is Wooyoung,” he says, bringing his attention back under the hood. You feel like your fucking world has been swept from under your feet. How does he know that? What does he know? How is the conclusion that you submitted something to Unscripted, and not that you’re fucking Unscripted?
“He–” you start, already stumbling over your words. “Are you crazy?”
“He told me you asked him for advice, sunshine,” he sing-songs from under your hood. “He told me about last night, too. The batting cages, the diner. Can you grab the bag from my backseat?”
You’re on autopilot as you grab what looks like a black toolbox– tool bag from his backseat, talking as you lay it over the side of your car, in reach for him to go through it. “What else did he tell you?”
Yunho looks up at you. “What else is there to say?”
“Nothing,” you answer immediately. “There’s nothing else. Do you know what’s wrong with my car?”
“Not yet,” he shakes his head, lips scrunching to one side. “I’m gonna try to jump it. Do you know how to jump a car?” You shake your head no, and he smacks his teeth. “We’re fixing that today.”
He digs into the toolbag, grabbing what looks like a power bank, two thick cables. He holds them up to you, “Red and black.” You nod, moving beside him so you can see what he sees. He points into the guts of your car, “That’s your battery.”
You lean forward a little, and he lowers his finger so you can see exactly what he’s pointing at. “Plus sign, red cable,” he explains, then hands the cable-clamp thingy to you. Your brows furrow. “Attach it,” he says like you’ve done this a million fucking times.
“I’m not gonna blow up my car, right?” you ask, holding the cable-clamp thing like it’s an explosive.
He laughs, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t let that happen, baby.”
You squeeze the clamp, attaching it where he showed you. You look up at him for reassurance, “Is that okay?”
“Perfect,” he says, then holds up the black clamp.
You pop a brow, “Negative?”
“Close,” his head tilts as he sticks the clamp somewhere else in the guts of your car. “Ground point, unpainted piece of metal or a part of the engine so you don’t blow your car up.”
Your lips make the shape before you say the word, “Oh.”
“Try to start it for me,” he says, and you nod, grabbing your keys from his car before slotting yourself in your own driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition. The dash lights up, but the only sound your car makes is a big fat fucking click.
“One more time,” you hear him over the hood, so you try again. You’re going to hear the clicking in your fucking dreams tonight. You deflate, groaning as he gathers the cables back into his bag, closing the hood. “This is out of my area of expertise, I fear.”
Your top lip lifts, “But you’re Handy Manny.”
He throws the bag back in his backseat, “Sorry, sunshine. I’ll call a tow truck for you.”
You don’t answer because he’s already in fix-it-mode, his phone in his hand, pacing with the other hand on his hip up on the curb while you watch from your driver’s seat. It’s unbearably hot, but you’re too guilty to care. You just let him teach you how to jump a fucking car while you tried to kiss his friend last night.
You tilt your head, watching him. He turns, meeting your eye through the pocket between your windshield and your open door, eyes focused. It’s unbearable. You blurt, “I tried to kiss Wooyoung last night.”
He holds up a finger. Your jaw drops. He points to his ear and mouths I’m on the phone.
“Hi, yeah, I need a tow, please,” he looks up at the sky as he speaks, and you actually genuinely wish you could fucking disappear. You sink further into the seat, running your hands over your face, into your hair, knees spreading. You wish your brain wasn’t so fucking complicated. You wish you never tried to fuck Yeonjun in Wooyoung’s bedroom.
“Sorry, they’ll be here within the hour,” he says, sounding refreshed as he hangs over your open door, arms crossed over the top of it. “So, you tried to kiss Wooyoung?”
You lower your hands, face blank. “Yes, last night.”
“Hm,” his head tilts. “He left that part out.”
“He said no,” you’re immediately defending him, defending yourself through him. “I didn’t kiss him.”
“But you wanted to,” his brows furrow from above the door.
You look at your lap, guilty. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says simply.
Your head snaps upward, brows tied together. “Okay?”
He shrugs. “Do you want me to be mad at you?”
“Kinda,” you shrug, bewildered at the answer. “We’re exclusive and I tried to fuck your friend.”
His brows raise, “You said kiss.”
“I did say kiss,” your lips tighten. “I meant kiss.”
He watches you for a second, eyes dancing to the floorboard beneath you, your steering wheel, the pile of shit in your passenger seat. Finally, he asks, “Do you still want to be exclusive?”
You speak before you can think, “I like you, Yun–”
He grins. “Not what I asked.”
Your lips flatten. “I don’t know.”
He nods, “Okay.”
“Oh my god,” you gruff out, the heels of your palms finding your bare eyes. “Can you please say something else?”
He huffs a laugh, “What do you want me to say? We aren’t dating, we’re exclusively sleeping together.”
“I know,” you basically whine. “But what happens if we aren’t? I like you.”
“I like you, too,” he nods. “It’s not like I’m going to hate you forever if we aren’t exclusive, sunshine. Did you think I’d throw a fit? Call you a cheater?”
Even Unscripted is a fucking cheater. The tips of your ears run hot, “Yeah, kinda.”
He walks around the car door, bending down into his calves beside the floorboard. “I didn’t start this thinking we were gonna get married. You’ve had four boyfriends in total in your entire life. I like you, but I’m not the type to stop someone from doing what they want to do.”
“But you–” you argue. “You’re not hurt at all?”
His head tilts, exposing his teeth in a way that says well, maybe. “I wouldn’t say hurt, but I wouldn’t say I’m emotionless, either. Mingi will be excited.”
Your jaw drops, a punched laugh escaping you. “You’re thinking about Mingi right now?”
He grins, “I think about Mingi often.”
“Have you ever been exclusive with him?” Yunho makes a show of shaking his head no. You deflate into your seat again, “I don’t understand that. Sleeping with someone without having… attachments. The security that they’re into you.”
His brows furrow, “Isn’t sleeping with someone confirmation enough that they like you?”
“No,” you answer quickly. “I mean, like, they’ll wake up tomorrow and still like you.”
“Have sexual attraction and romantic attraction always gone hand-in-hand with you?” he asks, and it’s honest. You nod. His face flattens out. “Have you ever wanted to fuck someone just to fuck them?”
Your lips scrunch as you look up at the roof of your car, thinking. You’re shaking your head as you respond, “No.”
He pops a brow, “Really?”
“No!” you say through a laugh. “I mean it. You know I’ve only had sex with long-term boyfriends, you’re the only exception.”
“And I’m flattered, but you’ve never seen someone walking down the street and just wanted to bang ‘em? Didn’t even want to learn their name?”
“No,” you say with a little more certainty. “The romantic aspect… It's part of it for me. The attraction.”
“So you have to really like someone in order to fuck them?” he asks, clarifying. You nod. His brows furrow, “But you don’t have to date them in order to fuck them.”
“What?” you ask, brows tied together. “No–”
“So you wanted me to be your boyfriend,” he assumes, brows raising. “That night at the party when we kissed, you were thinking in your head, ‘I’m gonna make Yunho my boyfriend’.”
“Don’t talk about yourself in third person, it’s weird.” His head tilts, face flat. You release an aggravated sigh, “Fine, no, I wasn’t thinking that about you. I wanted to sleep with you.”
He grins, “So everything you just said was a lie, basically.”
“I’m confused!” you argue, poking a flip flop at his knee. “I don’t know what I do. I don’t know!”
He laughs, smacking your foot away from him. “Okay, think of someone you want to fuck. Someone who’s not Wooyoung.” Your hands hit your face so hard they clap. He’s laughing again as he reaches up for your hands, pulling them off your face as he sits on the floorboard of your car. “I’m serious, sunshine. Think of someone that you’ve never imagined yourself dating. Someone you’re really, really attracted to, and want just one solid night of really hot, intense fucking.”
Oh, your face is on fucking fire, but you think. You think hard. You think of every single man you’ve ever met, all the guys on campus, the ones that go to your gym, none of them have ever piqued your interest enough to want a solid night of really hot, intense fucking.
But there is someone you’ve wondered about. Someone who gets the back of your neck prickling with sweat whenever you’re around them.
The answer comes naturally, “Jihyo.”
His brows raise. He chokes on a laugh, “Jihyo? Park Jihyo? Friends with Momo, Sana….?”
You nod, “Yes, that Jihyo.”
He pops a brow, “Huh.”
“What?” you immediately press, sitting up a little. “What’s wrong with Jihyo?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting you to– I wasn’t expecting a woman.”
“Are you homophobic when you literally stick your dick up Mingi’s ass?”
His face goes flat again. “Did you seriously just ask me that?” You giggle. “Okay, Jihyo. Do you want to date Jihyo?”
Your head tilts, eyes dancing around your car again, “I’ve never thought about it.”
“Well, don’t start now,” he says like you’re fucking ridiculous. “Have you thought about fucking her?”
You finally meet his eye again, shrugging. “Once or twice.”
“So everything you just said was bullshit, basically,” he says like he’s caught you, a smirk playing on his lips like this is the most amusing thing he’s ever encountered.
You gasp. “No, it was not bullshit. I like Jihyo, she’s my friend.”
Yunho leans in like he’s telling you a secret, “Have you ever even kissed a girl?”
Your top lip lifts, “Yes, I've kissed Jen!”
“I mean, like, seriously,” he explains with his hands. “I really didn’t take you as fruity.”
“Maybe you have a shit gaydar,” you counter, arms crossing over your chest.
“We’re getting off topic,” he shakes his head. “Would you survive if you had sex with Jihyo tomorrow and she didn’t call you after? Didn’t ask you to be her girlfriend?”
You shrug, “I don’t know.”
“I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend,” he counters.
“But we talked about exclusivity the next morning,” you fire back.
“But what if I didn’t bring it up? Would you have fucked me again?”
Your lips scrunch, cheeks heating up. “Yeah.” Yunho gives you a look like you’re trying to bullshit a bullshitter. You moan a noise of aggravation, “It’s different, Yunho. I knew you liked me before I slept with you.”
He shrugs, “Jihyo likes you.”
“Jihyo likes me as a friend,” you raise a finger between you.
He lowers it back down again, wrapping his palm around your finger. “Have you ever asked?” You barely get your no out before he’s sighing. “What are you scared of, sunshine?”
You’re tired of that question. And people asking you what you want. And any other fucking question that you don’t know the answer to.
“Being exclusive with someone doesn’t mean they won’t hurt you, baby.” He’s still holding your fingers as he says it, frowning. “And I know you know that already.”
First Wooyoung, and now Yunho? Your body sags, head drooping forward like the weight of his words sat directly on your back. Is this the aftermath? The mark Yeonjun left on your soul? You thought you were moving on, pushing forward, that Yunho was the very physical proof of your growth. It hurts to know it’s still not enough, that there’s embers left of the fire Yeonjun lit. But Yunho’s right. Wooyoung was fucking right, too, just like he always fucking is.
You look up again, eyes cloudy, face bent up in a frown. “How do I fix that?”
The smile he gives you is soft, comforting. “You don’t need to fix it, baby. I just wish you would live.”
You pout. “Does this mean we’re breaking up?”
His grin widens, a chuckle falling past his lips. “Is break-up the term to use here? Are you asking if we can still be friends? Still sleep together? What are you asking me, sunshine?”
You shrug, “I don’t know. What are my options?”
He runs two hands over his face, laughing into his palms. “Jesus Christ, you’re a piece of fucking work.”
“In a good way?”
He shakes his head before his palms find his lap. “Do you want to keep seeing me?”
“Of course I do,” you answer, that’s a no-brainer.
“Do you want to keep fucking me?”
You blink at him, slowly nodding before you quietly mumble, “Yes.”
“Do you still like me?”
You nod profusely, “Yes, I like you a lot.”
“Then why would we stop seeing each other?” he asks, his voice light. He reaches forward, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “We like each other, the sex is great, there’s no reason to stop.”
“But if you…” you start, then trail off. A little firmer, you ask, “But if you sleep with other people, are you still going to like me?”
His face softens. “Of course I will.”
You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “This is scary.”
“Then I’ll show you that it’s not,” he answers, reassurance lining his words.
Almost a whisper, coated in fucking anxiety, you ask, “Can you kiss me?”
Without a word, without a second of fucking debate he’s reaching forward, palms swallowing your cheeks like they always do as he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft, just a peck of a kiss before he splits your lips, reassuring you of every word he just said, letting you feel that he’s still here, he still wants you, even if you aren’t fully his.
He wants you to experience freedom. He wants you to be happy. He wants you to start living your life the way the raw, unshielded fucking part of you wants to live it. Everyone wants you to, apparently.
“Be careful,” he whispers into your mouth, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “If you keep going, the tow-truck guy is gonna catch us fucking in the backseat.”
All you do is laugh, and kiss him harder.
masterlist 🍬
“Because the other guy is Wooyoung,” he says, bringing his attention back under the hood. You feel like your fucking world has been swept from under your feet.
FUCK. i literally gasped and woke my dog up. amazing chapter. bi4bi realness. incredible make up with jen. i breathed too many sighs of relief.
