t

new to this, just wanna share my writings and thoughts 22 svt nct

[wonuwonder]

hi i'm t :)

she/her - libra - 22 - masterlist

i’m currently only writing for seventeen’s wonwoo, seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin

requests? open! can have 18+ topics if you're of age, keep in mind i only write fem reader x member, i don't have full guidelines cuz i'm lazy but check these ! and send through

don't be shy to interact w me cuz i'm chatty af lmao, and i love to read what you think about my works! x

[goldenhourology]

SLACKING OFF.

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader

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

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

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

word count: 19.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there was Wonwoo to save the day yet again.

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

You [10:58 AM]: I screwed up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: Crap.

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

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

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Listen.

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

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: I’m sorry.

You [9:51 AM]: Wow

Jeon Wonwoo [9:51 AM]: What?

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

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

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

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

You [10:01 AM]: Okay, you’re forgiven

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

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

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

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

Even if, per chance, he thought this was a date … you’d eventually have to let him down easy. It probably wasn’t in your best interest to date someone like Jeon Wonwoo, but you’d also closed yourself off from love for far too long. It wasn’t that you didn’t get lonely – you did, very much, especially on late nights where it was just you and your favorite vibrator – but it was just … scary. Opening yourself up. Losing just a small semblance of control. You weren’t even sure you could physically allow yourself to do that after being alone for so long. 

Your heart had been tucked away so many years ago, locked inside a box, and then in another box, and so on. With the final lock being so complicated that only someone who knew the last four of your social security number could answer. No one was opening up that box. Your heart was safe from the outside world.

You were independent, reliant on only yourself, and you liked it that way.

Once he had gotten both your coffees, he sat down next to you at a hightop table, folding his winter coat over the back of his chair. He had managed to remember your latte order and it tasted perfect. Your eyes flitted up, ogling him for a moment. When you’re not under the fluorescent lights of the office, Wonwoo was … attractive. To say the least. Maybe he always had been and you were too blind to see it. Maybe his face was perpetually hidden by his monitor.

His hair was tousled in the way that it looked effortless, even if he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed. He had a tendency to wear sweater vests with white t-shirts underneath, or button-downs with jeans. But it was only when he showed off his forearms that you realized he was surprisingly built underneath his oversized clothes. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. You liked his glasses too; they always sat on the edge of his nose. A thin line was etched into both lenses, suggesting age, but they framed his face well.

Yeah, you thought to yourself, he is handsome.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, knocking you out of your stupor.

You blinked and looked down at your coffee, removing the lid. “Oh, I … uh … good question.”

“Listen,” he started, eyes flickering to his hands, “I’m really sorry about what I said –”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“– And I understand if you want to go to HR about this –”

You shook your head. “Wait, what? Why would I do that?”

He glanced around, until finally, his eyes were on you again. And suddenly, you were wondering if his eyes were dark brown or the color of cinnamon. “Isn’t that what any rational person would do?”

He had you stumped there. If this were a different situation … you probably would do that. “I’m not going to tell HR about this, Wonwoo. You apologized and said you didn’t mean it. I have to trust that.” And you didn’t trust lightly – hardly at all – but something about Wonwoo made you feel like it could be easy with him.

“We all have shit days,” you added, taking a sip of the scalding hot latte. “You have a ton of stuff on your plate. Doesn’t give you an excuse for what you did, but we all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean. I have so many things to organize throughout the day, and sometimes it gets the better of me. Remember when I had book that last minute trip for our CEO and I was on the phone for hours with Delta and Suzanne in finance had the nerve to start bothering me about some invoice? I lost it on her for a straight minute.”

“Oh, my god, yeah,” he chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory resurfaced. “Her eyes almost came out of her skull at your reaction. To be fair … Suzanne needs to be knocked down a peg sometimes. She always blames IT when she can’t get into her email, but it’s because she’s constantly typing her password with one letter off.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Your hand hit the tabletop a few times as you let your workplace personality fade in front of your coworker. “Those new IT interns don’t know what’s coming once Suzanne comes for them,” you joked.

“The IT interns don’t know anything. Period.” He jabbed his finger onto the table. “I mean, they’re interns, but it takes so much time to train them. If I have to teach them JavaScript one more time …”

“Say it, Jeon Wonwoo,” you egged him on, a chuckle filtering at the end. “What will happen if you have to teach those good for nothing interns JavaScript?”

A slow smile made it’s way onto Wonwoo’s face, and … damn, you were actually a really cool person. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll tell you what will happen …”

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: Did you bring lunch today?

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: I just found this new cafe down the street and was thinking about grabbing something there in a few. Did you wanna come?

You [12:14 PM]: Do you think they have a chicken salad sandwich on the menu

Jeon Wonwoo [12:15 PM]: I can only assume so?

You [12:15 PM]: SOLD

You both go out for more coffees, before and after work. You found yourself excited to wake up early, to meet up with Wonwoo at the coffee shop located in the lobby of your work building. Always getting there before him, you typically ordered two coffees – remembering his order to a T – and when he walked in five minutes late, he promised to buy the next round. You never let him.

You began planning lunches over Slack, discussing what was on special at that cafe he found last month. In fact, you two talked most of the day on Slack. A message from you had once gotten on his nerves, and now … he was eager for it. Eager to hear your thoughts throughout the day, excited to talk about what new dumb question an intern asked him today or to see more pictures of your grandma’s cats.

And Wonwoo … Wonwoo was easier to get along with than you thought. You just had to peel back the layers before he finally got comfortable, and honestly, you could relate. To be fair, you had a few more layers than he did, but he was slowly learning that you were more than what he perceived. After that first coffee, he realized how funny you were, and then a couple lunches later, he learned you were an avid romance and thriller reader – and nothing in between. It wasn’t until last week that he finally cracked you open enough to learn about your love for Elder Scrolls Online. He was sure you were joking at first, but when you clarified how serious you were, he almost fell off his chair.

“I’m not shocked that you play it,” he said over coffee one morning. “What I’m shocked at is that you’d rather play Elder Scrolls Online and not Skyrim.”

“Of course, you would say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I don’t really have an interest in the game universe. I started playing Elder Scrolls Online to relieve stress while applying to colleges, and then I just … didn’t stop.” You shrugged.

Much to his own surprise – even with your take on Skyrim – Wonwoo thoroughly enjoyed your company. It was insane that you both had spent almost two years sitting across from each other before realizing how much you liked each other. Words always left unsaid. Eyes staying glued to computers. It had been a routine for you both that you had never strayed from – until now. So many tech requests over Slack … and now he was actively looking forward to work everyday. To seeing you. To talking with you. 

You.

Jeon Wonwoo realized how much he liked stockings. Specifically, he liked the way you looked in them.

And that’s when things got dangerous.

He started to notice the days you would wear them, and then concluded which day you did laundry. You liked wearing blouses with a pencil skirt and stockings on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Those were now his favorite days. 

Wednesdays you’d wear dress pants and maybe a sweater, whereas on “Casual Fridays,” you were clad in a t-shirt with a cardigan layered and jeans. You always looked nice at the office, but those stocking days … they were getting to him.

Sometimes, he’d watch the way you walked away from your desk – either to the Boss’ office or to the finance department – and he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your legs. You had these stockings that had a slight tear in the back, and he wondered if you realized, or was he just too much of a perverted loser to be the first person to notice? He wanted to purchase a new pair for you. He wanted to replace all your stockings and buy you enough that you could wear them with a skirt everyday, just so he could see you in them.

Maybe he was a loser.

You looked up at him, even in heels, and you had this way of smiling at him that left him questioning why you liked hanging out with him in the first place. His personality couldn’t be that charming to warrant your attention. But you were warm – even when your hands were perpetually cold – and kind, never straying once he was in front of you. And you had this lip gloss that stained your lips magenta and made them shine. Even in the dim fluorescent lights. When his chair turned just slightly and he let his eyes glaze over you, one finger rubbing at his top lip, he couldn’t help but be curious if the gloss had a flavor to it … and then, he’d get distracted by your legs again. And your blouse, and your hair. 

Don’t even get him started on the way you smelled.

Maybe he was a loser. No, he was most definitely a loser. 

It was a Thursday night. Almost 7 PM and you were still at the office. You had plans to go out tonight to celebrate your friend’s new job, but you ended up having to cancel when the Boss placed a stack of paperwork on your desk before leaving the building at promptly 6 o’clock. Why he couldn’t have given you all these invoices and memos hours ago was beyond you, but you weren’t even halfway through this stack and the janitor was now mopping beside you.

When a Slack notification appeared on the side of your monitor, you didn’t even read it before spinning around in your chair. There Wonwoo was, leaning back in his own chair while a progress window ticked on one of his dual monitors. You raised a brow. “I didn’t even hear you over there,” you commented. “Why are you still here?”

“A month or so ago, the IT head told me that we’d soon be transitioning servers, so all of our backups and data need to be transferred over to this new server.” He explained, adjusting his glasses and glancing over at the progress window. It changed from 23% to 24% finished. “Someone had to be the lucky person to stay after hours and make sure it all went smoothly.”

You twirled a pen in your two fingers and crossed your legs. “Oh, that sucks.” Your skirt hiked up a little, and just that small flash of exposed skin had Wonwoo averting his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m assuming you’re still here because of that.” He nodded towards the pile of paper.

“No, no, obviously I love being here after hours with you,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone, but it still ignited a short spark of hope within him. (Wonwoo, can you chill the fuck out? He chastised.) “You know the Boss has a penchant for letting invoices pile up. He just so happened to let that pile end up on my desk before he left today. And some of these needed to be filled out …” Your eyes skimmed the first paper on your desk. “Oh, yesterday!”

Wonwoo offered to help you while also keeping watch of his computer – 28% finished – but you insisted you could handle it. “I already bother you enough during work hours,” you said before turning back to your desk. He knew by now that you were simply too stubborn to give up control of the project. Once you had started it yourself, you needed to see it through. He wasn’t sure if you two were close enough that he could be completely honest, that he could tell you that it was fine to let go this independence that you kept on a tight leash. He was willing to help. (God, was he willing.) 

But he chocked it up to telling you once that you were “so fucking stubborn.”

Your reply had come in the form of a swift kick to his knee.

Wonwoo glanced at his monitor. 67% finished.

It was 10 PM and you were just about finished with the paperwork, but you were running on fumes. Just a few memos left and you’d be done. To get you through the next hour, you needed something. So you headed to the break room, suddenly craving some burnt workplace coffee. (What was it about this coffee maker that gave it such a distinct burnt flavor? You’d never know.) After placing the pod of coffee grounds in the slot and filling the water, you pressed the start button, turning around with a huff to see Wonwoo striding into the break room. A crushed, styrofoam coffee cup was clutched in his large hand before he tossed it in the barrel beside you. 

“How’s your transfer going?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Coffee had started to pour from the machine and into your cup.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s at 88% now. Hopefully should be done in the next hour.”

“Me too, if all goes well.” A sigh escaped your lips. “I still have a few more papers to fill out. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, but I haven’t looked through them all yet.”

Wonwoo stepped forward, reaching in the direction of the styrofoam cups. “If you had let me help you –”

You tried sidestepping out of the way to give him some room, but his hand brushed against your arm anyway. Your chin tilted up as your eyes met his, back pressing against the counter. “It wouldn’t have helped,” you finished for him.

His arm paused mid-air, and he looked down at you. Eyes narrowing, he replied, “You’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. You have this desperate need to be in control of everything.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” Your tone took a hard edge. The last thing you wanted right now was to put effort into arguing, but you were tired and already on the edge of a breakdown. “I’ve relied on myself for as long as I can remember. I like being in control. I like being stubborn. If I didn’t do most things myself –”

“You ask me to fix something on your computer at least once a day.”

“That’s different.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, and you noticed then just how close he was. Your chests were practically touching. “Sometimes you do try to figure things out yourself and almost break your hard drive.”

His progress window was probably at 93% finished now. He should head back to his desk, but his feet stayed planted right where they were.

“Why does it matter?” You exhaled loud, your hands slapping against your hips. “Do you want an award or something? You have your way of doing things, and I have mine. I’m not perfect, but I … I like things the way they are.” Change is scary, you thought to yourself, but didn’t dare voice it out loud.

He was so close that he could smell your perfume. The scent of lavender mixed with orange blossoms and vanilla filled his nostrils, swirling around his brain. He could get addicted to this smell, to you. Maybe he already was. When his eyes roamed down to your legs and he saw his favorite pair of stockings on you, he damn near collapsed. In fact, he hadn’t even realized the soft groan had left his lips until your gaze found his, your pretty irises growing wide.

You were just so … captivating.

His hands were on both sides of you, pressing your back further into the counter. Your black coffee steaming and fully abandoned in the coffee machine. He was holding himself back, his knuckles going white with restraint. But he wasn’t like you. He could only keep himself in control for so long. And with you here right now, your perfume surrounding him, your stockings-clad thigh brushing against his leg, your a hand placed on his chest … he was a goner.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, palm still resting on his shirt, “we …”

When your voice trailed off, Wonwoo’s instincts got the better of him. “Please, just …” One hand came up to smooth against your cheek, and he was almost out of breath as he pulled your face to his. “Let me do this.”

He gave you enough time to shove him back, to yell at him, to tell him you didn’t like him in that way. But your neck was craning towards his, and he took that as a sign to crash his lips onto yours. They were softer than he expected, and the taste … your gloss tasted like – well, like nothing. But if he pretended, he could’ve sworn there was a slight cherry aftertaste. His glasses bumped into your nose, but he’d been too overwhelmed to remember to take them off. Mouth moving against yours, his hips crammed you more against the counter, hard enough to leave a bruise on your spine. You didn’t care though. His shoulders were so wide that they shielded you, inviting your body into his, and your fingers fisted into his button-up. Tongues tangled, eager to taste more and more of each other. 

Wonwoo could kiss you forever. You didn’t want him to stop.

But all good things must end. Because when he instinctively placed his leg between yours, he knew this was going too far. Especially because you two were still at work. In the break room.

He instantly removed his leg, his lips breaking from yours. Your eyes connected, the room filled with only the sounds of heavy breathing, before you wiped a trail of spit from your chin.

Wonwoo’s head spun behind him. Thank god, there was no CCTV camera by the coffee maker.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: Good morning.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: I shouldn’t have done that last night.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:10 AM]: Still friends?

You [9:14 AM]: We probably shouldn’t be talking about this on Slack

You [9:15 AM]: Here’s my number: 855-777-0821

You [9:18 AM]: But yes friends :D

Wonwoo did not want to be just friends. But he was utterly terrified of what you would say if he voiced that. You had kissed him back, yes, but … hadn’t you agreed to be friends far too quickly? You had both hung out post-kiss – he liked to call this period of time A.T.K. (after the kiss) – and you didn’t seem to be ruminating on it like he was. Of course, he didn’t know what you were thinking, and you could be so hard to read sometimes when your layers weren’t stripped back enough. But …

Could it really have meant nothing to you?

If that were the case, he didn’t know how it was possible for you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss even if he tried. When he saw you the next day – Friday, January 9, A.T.K. – the first thing he noticed was your lip gloss and all he wanted was to have it smeared over his mouth again. He noticed the way your hair fell over your shoulder, remembering how soft the strands felt when his fingers had slipped between them. He noticed that you were wearing those jeans that hugged your ass just right, and – god, now he was wishing that he had touched more than just your cheek. Wonwoo wanted to touch you everywhere. And vice versa. He didn’t care if your hands were constantly freezing or if they were dry during the winter. He wanted you to touch him however you pleased. He wanted to grab you and kiss you and hold those cold hands in his warm ones –

Oh, my god. He had a boner. At work. Just the mere memory of a kiss had him shifting himself in his pants underneath his desk, hoping no one noticed.

Eventually, he stood up, trying to keep a casual hand over the bulge in his pants as he fast walked to the bathroom. Nobody batted an eye, but you did steal a glance over at him once his back was turned. Your brow raised at the way he was practically sprinting for the elevator, not realizing that he was heading for the second floor restrooms. He must be excited for something. Probably a package, you thought before turning back to your computer.

Wonwoo felt like he could finally breathe once he was inside a stall. He rested his head against the cool tile wall, feeling the ache start to settle in his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. What 28-year-old gets a boner from a kiss? You had him acting like a goddamn teenager.

What had you done to him? Just one kiss and he was completely under your spell.

(Or maybe he’d been this way all along.)

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on his jeans as he finally pulled himself out of his jeans, stroking from base to tip. Thankfully, no one was in the bathroom. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. The last thing he ever wanted was to be that guy who jacked off in the bathroom. But you had to wear those goddamn jeans –

Wonwoo wasn’t good at hiding his feelings, but he was doing a pretty good job even as this was killing him inside. He wasn’t like you; he found it hard to restrain himself, to ignore everything that was bubbling up inside him. He could feel himself cracking. What would be the thing that finally broke him?

The answer was simple: alcohol.

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: Dude lol. Why’d you run away from your desk like that

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: I think you could win the Olympics with that kind of sprint!

Jeon Wonwoo [11:39 AM]: Don’t ask.

Lee Seokmin [11:40 AM]: Alrighty then ;)

Lee Seokmin [11:41 AM]: On another note … you free next Thursday? My buddy in the marketing department, Josh, finally has a night off from his kid so we were thinking of getting a group together for drinks after work. Interested?

The last thing you ever expected was to be invited to drinks with Seokmin and some of the managers in marketing, but Wonwoo said you should come. “In fact,” he had clarified, “you should come so I don’t have to deal with DK’s drunk antics all night.” Who were you to deprive him of your presence when he was that desperate? Plus, there was a nice girl in marketing that was also invited; maybe tonight was the night to befriend her.

But the marketing people knew how to party. You were only halfway through your second beer whereas the rest of your group was on their fourth. And three tequila shots deep. Wonwoo, seemingly, had an affinity for tequila, unlike yourself. He was able to throw them back like it was nothing; he didn’t even need a chaser. When Seokmin had requested they all get a fourth, he was met with a round of cheers, and even Wonwoo – quiet, introverted Wonwoo – threw his hands up with excitement. You placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Are you sure about that?”

Wonwoo felt his whole body freeze when your hot breath reached his ear. A pale, pink flush appeared on his cheeks, but you chocked it up to how drunk he was. Eventually, he waved away your worry with his hand. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine. Hey, how about I get you another beer?”

“Are you even coherent enough to get me another –”

“HEY! Bartender! Can I get one more of these?!” He shouted, waving your empty glass in the air. “Oh, and more tequila!”

Seokmin slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, laughing along with him. As you made friends with the rest of the marketing department, you found yourself glancing at Wonwoo every so often. His cheeks were so rosy now, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. To be fair though, everyone in this dive bar seemed to be in the same state of mind. Seokmin was singing along to the Sabrina Carpenter song blasting through the speakers. Josh was so drunk that he was crying about how much he loved his friends. They had even gotten Suzanne in finance to come out, and she was making friends with everyone for once. And Wonwoo … oh, god, Wonwoo’s head was now on the bar top and he was closing his eyes –

You abandoned your beer and walked over to your friend, shaking his shoulders. His eyes instantly opened, expecting to see Seokmin, but when his gaze met yours, he instantly felt all warm and fuzzy. “Okay,” you said, trying your best to hoist this 6 foot man off the barstool, “you’ve had enough. I’m taking you home.”

It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell you his address, but you guessed you shouldn’t be surprised when the man on your arm was blackout drunk. After flagging a taxi, you shoved him in the seat next to you and rubbed your hands together to get them warm. Wonwoo’s head was on your shoulder the second you sat down, his eyes fluttering closed as the taxi sped off into the night. You watched his fingers twitch on his thigh as he whispered sleepily, “I think my family would really like you.”

“Is that so?” You chuckled, squeezing his arm for reassurance, but little did you know just how much your touch effected him. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re you,” he replied, and then yawned. “Only you and Mingyu would do this for me.”

Your brow furrowed. “Who’s Mingyu?”

The taxi pulled up to a brick apartment building then, and your cold fingers struggled to get cash out from your pocket while Wonwoo was practically laying on top of you. Finally, you did your best to haul him out of the seat, thanking the taxi driver before gathering an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. The building was definitely old with vines of ivy crawling up one side. There was a dead tree with snow covering it’s branches directly by the door, spilling snowflakes on your head as you struggled to input the code Wonwoo managed to remember. And then, you were pulling him up two flights of stairs, which took far longer than you estimated. You had basically ripped his keys from his hand once you reached his apartment and continued to drag him inside, laying him on the old couch that was conveniently right near the door.

Wonwoo grumbled as soon as his head hit the armrest, and he almost fell off the couch if it weren’t for you catching him and rolling him back onto the cushion. “I’m going to go get you a glass of water,” you said, quickly rushing off to his kitchen. “Please, for the love of god, don’t fall off the couch again.”

He whined for you to come back, but you pretended you didn’t hear it, because if you did, you’d have to reckon with the tingle that bloomed between your legs at the sound of his desperation.

The entrance of his kitchen was right in front of a small hallway that sectioned off two ways. There was a bedroom door on each side of the hall, and once you walked inside the kitchen, you found a tiny table from the 80s and the dishwasher currently running. You didn’t have time to contemplate that now, and instead pilfered through his cabinets until you found a glass and filled it with tap water. Rushing back to his side, Wonwoo was already laying halfway off the couch and you sighed.

You set the glass of water on his coffee table and lifted him back up. With a little bit of help from you, you both managed to shrug off his winter jacket and you tucked a throw blanket over him to prevent him from falling off again. A heavy exhale slipped past your lips as you knelt by his side, and you couldn’t help but reach out to pushed back his hair from his forehead. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You smiled to yourself.

Were coworkers supposed to show this much affection for each other?

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, and he cracked one eye open. “Do you want some water?”

He shut that eye again, grimacing at the thought of anything entering his body right now. “Ab…absolutely not.”

“It’ll make you feel better,” you persuaded, but he still shook his head. “Okay, so what do you want right now?”

His breath stilled for a moment. “Can I be honest?”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“I …” No, he couldn’t be that honest. “I want you to … keep p–pushing back my hair. It’s … relaxing.”

You chuckled, “Okay, you got it.” Your fingers were at the crown of his head again, smoothing back the strands. You hadn’t noticed until now that he had a freckle on the left side of his forehead; maybe you’d just never been this close to notice. Well, actually, you had. There was this thing you two did called a kiss –

“If you’re going to fall asleep, I’m going to take off your glasses,” you informed him, slipping his glasses off and setting them by his glass of water. It was late, much later than you anticipated on staying out, and you both still had to go to work tomorrow. 

But then his hand was grabbing your wrist, his grip surprisingly firm for how intoxicated he was. “Can I b–be honest again?” He slurred, his eyes half open to meet yours.

You sighed, placing your hand on top of his, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Just know whatever you say will be used to make fun of you tomorrow –”

“I can’t … I haven’t …” He took a breath to formulate the words in his head. “… Stopped thinking about our kiss.”

You blinked down at him, watching the way his eyes began to close again as he relaxed into the old couch cushions. “You can’t just say shit like –”

He scoffed dramatically. “I’m noooot,” he defended, his hand slipping off your wrist to curl underneath the blanket.

“Wonwoo …” Your voice trailed off, the words dying on your tongue.

“Who the hell are you?”

You immediately got to your feet at the sound of another person’s voice behind you. Eyes growing wide, you took in the sight of the man in front of you wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chiseled abdomen as he shook a smaller towel through his hair. He might’ve been taller than Wonwoo, only by a little bit, and his skin was a golden tan that reminded you of summertime even in this harsh winter. Why was Wonwoo hiding handsome men in his apartment? The man looked at you, waiting for an answer, his brows raised.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat. “Um …”

“Leave her alone, Mingyu,” Wonwoo groaned from the couch, turning away from them to lay on his side.

So this was Mingyu, you concluded. This slightly god-like dude that looked like he walked straight out of a porno was the only other person who’d help Wonwoo when he was blackout drunk. Interesting.

Mingyu raised his hand awkwardly for you to shake. “His roommate,” he clarified.

“Oh,” you replied, grasping his hand for a moment and telling him your name. 

Mingyu instantly grinned, laying the small towel over his neck, holding both ends. “So you’re her.”

You blinked, not knowing how to respond to that. Perhaps there was no way to respond; the silence was comfortable enough. You decided to keep that in mind for later though.

“He’s … well, he got very drunk,” you informed Mingyu, gesturing to a now-sleeping Wonwoo with both thumbs. “I wanted to make sure he got home okay.”

Mingyu nodded, and then sighed. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry,” he promised, opening up the door for you. “Get home safe, okay?”

Wonwoo: Sorry about that the other night. I won’t get drunk like that again. It doesn’t happen very often

You: it’s okay! I’m used to handling drunk people

You: don’t get me wrong, I like to have my fun but it’s easier for me to take care of other people than like … be incoherent and anxious lol

Wonwoo: By the end of the night I was starting to feel that way. Not fun

You: DRINK WATER

You: your roommate is hot btw. does he always walk around without a shirt?

Wonwoo: Of course, he didn’t have a shirt on when you met him

Wonwoo: Everyone likes Mingyu

You: well, I like you [UNSENT]

The bi-annual sales meeting was started to boost morale and talk with other departments that you didn’t see as often. It was typically held at a hotel in the downtown city, with the company flying in all the sales reps from across the country. There were even a few from overseas. In reality though, this was usually the week where coworkers made mistakes. At least one person was let go after these sales meetings, and HR had their eyes peeled for an entire week.

You never made a mistake at one of these. And you didn’t expect to any time soon.

This was a week of rubbing elbows with slimy sales reps and making sure some old man hadn’t spiked your drink. For most, this was a week to slack off, but a woman working in corporate couldn’t relax in these settings. You’d been making corrections to your boss’ presentation for the entire company for what felt like forever. (Realistically, it’d been almost two weeks.) You probably went through the 50 slides at least twice as much, checking for spelling mistakes and making sure it was in the right place on your desktop. Not on some random external hard drive. Not in the trash. 

But it was finally the day you’d been dreading. Presentation day, and everyone at the company was eager to hear the Boss reveal if they hit their goal for the year, amongst other things. You checked the slides another time, and then made sure no one would trip over the HDMI cord connected to the projector. The Boss gave you a reassuring smile, and then it was go time.

Your boss could be a shit bag – what CEO wasn’t? – but he had a way of speaking that made everyone so excited for the future. He was probably the reason why morale was always so high, and everyone looked forward to his presentation at these meetings. Your finger hovered over the right arrow button as he went through his speech, pointing out company statistics and what he wanted them all to accomplish this year, before finally getting to the goal reach. And his answer was nothing short of what the audience wanted to hear. He congratulated all of them, and everyone clapped together at the good news.

When you looked out at the crowd that had gathered, you realized almost every seat in the ballroom was filled. Some were even standing near the door and – wait, there was Wonwoo, leaning against the wall in the back. IT didn’t need to be here for this presentation. In fact, they were encouraged to be doing other things, like manning a table near HR and offering on-the-spot tech help. A smile made it’s way to your lips, watching the way Wonwoo was listening intently.

Once the presentation was over and the room erupted in small talk, your boss came over and thanked you for helping out yet again. “Of course,” you replied, as if there was anything else to say. He gave you a comforting squeeze of the hand before walking off to talk to some of his favorite sales reps.

As you shut your laptop and began to place your things in your backpack, Wonwoo slipped into the chair beside yours. Just the sight of his grin set you at ease, but also made you nervous at the same time. Why were you suddenly so nervous? This was just Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo. Just … your Wonwoo.

“Congratulations,” he beamed, giving you a high five. “I know you’ve been working on this all week, but you did it!”

You always stressed so much about this presentation, but at the end of the day … “All I did was press a button,” you shrugged.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but you didn’t accidentally delete your file like every other time you’ve messaged me on Slack.” He chuckled, and you scoffed at his teasing. “I’d call that a win.”

The second to last night of sales meeting week was the longest night of the year. It was a tradition for everyone to go out to a bar the company rented out, drinking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on while celebrating a job well done. You only saw half these people twice a year, and half of the time they’d have a beer in their hands. 

You did your best to ignore every sales rep that tried to speak with you without slurring their words, but that was damn near impossible when some were already on their second cocktail. However, no matter how embarrassing it was, you did allow them to compliment you and your hard work. Who were you to turn down the validation? And when the time came, even your boss came over to compliment you again, and you realized there was truly nothing like being good at your job. 

Just for a moment, everything felt okay. It was like the loneliness dissipated, the sting of years without pleasure or having someone by your side … it all faded when you were rewarded for your hard work.

Maybe tonight was the night you had fun for once.

When you finally found Wonwoo later that night, he was surrounded by a few younger members of the IT team, debating what computer language everyone should be obligated to learn. You waved to him from where you stood by the bar top, and that was all it took to have him walking away from his team and towards you. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, insisting to buy you drinks for the rest of the night, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. If there was anyone here you trusted enough to hand you a drink, it was Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo.

The hour was reaching midnight now, and you weren’t sure how many martinis you had, but you were hiccuping a storm. That was a telltale sign that you were totally, thoroughly drunk. Wonwoo was only drinking beer and pacing himself, unlike that night at the dive bar, but he was enjoying the sight of you finally letting loose. You hung on his arm, staring up at him with your big eyes, glazing over from all the alcohol coursing through your system. He didn’t like how this effected him; he shouldn’t be attracted to the way your gaze looked while you were intoxicated. But he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes held the same shine while your lips were wrapped around his –

No, this was too much. He should take you back to the hotel.

The two of you glanced around the bar, realizing it was mostly cleared out. You definitely needed to leave now.

He tugged on your arm, wrapping one of his around your waist to support you. “C’mon now,” he grunted, helping you walk out. “Let’s get you back.”

“I didn’t f–finish my drink thoooooough,” you argued, despite letting him lead you out of the bar. “And I can walk … on my own. Swear!”

“Listen, you took care of me once,” he said as you two walked into the brisk cold air. The hotel was, thankfully, only a block away. “Let me take care of you.”

Even with the alcohol pumping in your veins, just the sound of those words falling from his mouth made you grip him tighter. You felt like your bones were made of jelly, and it wasn’t just from the vodka. It was him, and the way he made you feel, and how secretly warm he was, and the way he took care of you as you took care of him, and – oh, god, you wanted to cry because you liked Jeon Wonwoo so much.

So, so much.

It was much easier to get you back to your hotel room than his apartment, seeing as this hotel had a working elevator. You slumped beside him, tripping over your feet every so often, as he hauled you down the hallway to your room. You gave him your keycard easily, and once the door was open, he squeezed your hand to silently let you know it was time to move again. He helped you into the room, shutting the door behind him, before laying you down on your bed with the clumsiness only he could have. 

You were laughing now, hiccuping from the alcohol, but laughing nonetheless. And he was laughing at your hiccups. Or maybe he just liked the way you grinned at him.

He assisted with taking off your boots and jacket, too embarrassed to remove anything else. And it definitely wasn’t appropriate to either. Tearing back the covers, he nestled you underneath them, and said, “You got everything, right? I’m a call away if you need me.” He grabbed one of the small trash cans in the room and placed it at your bedside. “If you need to vomit and can’t make it to the bathroom, just use the trash can here –”

You hand came out to wrap around his forearm. “Stay, Wonwoo.”

Your sleepy eyes were killing him, making his inhibitions melt and his cock throb at the same time. He sighed, sitting on the side of the mattress, and before he could stop himself, he was tucking hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t do that,” he said, his voice like a caress. “You know how it would look if someone saw me leave this room tomorrow morning. HR is on all our asses this week.”

“I know,” you slurred, and then pressed your flushed cheek into his palm. “I j–just thought you … were taking care of me thoooooooough …”

His resolve crumbled into a million pieces. This was complete, utter torture. You had to know how you effected him, but of course you didn’t, because you were stretching under the covers and yawning like you didn’t just make his heart stop. 

That’s how he ended up in your bed, shutting off the lights and settling underneath the comforter. Until you came closer and rested your head on his chest. Despite how fast his heart was beating, he felt so at peace, and you both fell asleep in the clothes you wore out tonight.

Only a few hours later, you woke with a clear head and the beginning of a hangover. Your head was pounding like crazy, and it took everything in you to slip out from the comfort of your bed and pad your feet over to the bathroom. The bright light was burning your eyes, but you needed it to find the Tylenol you left by the sink. Filling a cup with water, you took the medication and prayed it worked sooner rather than later.

You squinted at yourself in the mirror, realizing you were still in the outfit you wore yesterday. With a sigh, you picked up the big t-shirt you left on the floor yesterday morning and stripped yourself until you were in nothing but your underwear. You pulled the t-shirt on and slumped against the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold tile. Now this felt like heaven for your headache.

It took a couple of minutes to get yourself to move again, feet slapping against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom. You noticed Wonwoo was awake too, in the midst of slinking back under the covers, and you saw his jeans abandoned by his bedside.You crawled back to your cocoon of blankets, and he instantly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And you … you didn’t move away. In fact, you pressed yourself closer, finally hearing how his heart raced. Wonwoo didn’t care if it was probably 4 AM and he probably had to leave in a few hours – before anyone else woke – because he was holding you and smelling you hair. You smelled … god, you smelled so good that it made him hard almost instantly.

You felt his hand splay against your spine, as if trying to hold himself back, and it was then that your eyes opened. The room was dark, but you knew when his gaze was burning into yours only seconds later. You slipped one hand out from the covers, cupping his cheek as your thumb brushed over his lower lip. Under his breath, he muttered a soft, “Shit,” because you both knew where this was going.

You agreed you wouldn’t do this again. You agreed to be friends.

But now you’re kissing again.

Your hand moved from his face to his neck, and his hands are gripping your cheeks to make sure your mouth stayed on his. His fingers were shaking. He kissed you desperately, as if he needed this just to be able to breathe again, and maybe he did. You were like putty in his hands, molding yourself to his body as your tongue tangled with his. Whatever ache you felt in your temples drifted between your legs, causing you to moan into his mouth. And fuck, just the sound of you made his cock swell, precum soaking through his boxers.

The room felt so hot all of a sudden, but your cold hands came in handy as they rested on his neck. His left hand slid down to your ass, finally giving it a firm squeeze after kicking himself for not doing it when he first kissed you. That made you moan again, and he decided he’d never stop touching you like this, just so he could hear these sounds fall from your lips.

He slid his knee between your legs on instinct, and you didn’t hesitate to start grinding against his thigh. The friction felt delicious and soothing. You both kissed each other slower, a little messier, focusing on touching each other everywhere you dreamed about all these months. Your fingers traced down the column of his neck, down the thin cotton of the shirt he was still wearing from yesterday, while bucking against his thigh. His lips left yours, dragging across your cheek so he could nibble on your earlobe, feeling it grow warm and red from all the attention. “You have no idea how long I’ve needed you,” he whispered, and you damn near almost came from that confession.

You weren’t used to this; you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced pleasure like this with someone, but you couldn’t imagine stopping. Not when he angled his thigh just right, the muscle in his leg rubbing against your clit, your panties completely soaked. You cupped him over his boxers, feeling his bulge throb in your palm, and you cooed, “Can I …”

He groaned. You didn’t need to say more; Wonwoo was smart enough to know what you were insinuating. He felt disoriented, drunk off of you and your touch, smell, everything. “Are you … are you sure you don’t want to …” His voice was giving out, but from the way your fingers were slipping under the waistband of his boxers, you knew you wanted just this, and he’d give you whatever you wanted. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s fine,” he finished.

You chuckled softly. He smiled against your neck. Pulling his cock out and wrapping your palm around it, you began to stroke him slowly. “Oh, god,” he was sighing into the crook of your neck, his brain in such a state of disarray when you resumed grinding against his leg while also pumping him from base to tip. This couldn’t be real; he had to be dreaming, but he could feel your wet panties sticking to his thigh. He could feel himself shake as he clung to you and pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your throat. It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. 

“Wonwoo,” you whimpered, and he dragged his lips back to yours just to feel how your mouth moved when you said his name. You bucked your hips faster, your arousal coating his thigh, and warmth bloomed between your legs. When your hand on his cock reached his head again, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over his slit, making more precum bead onto your knuckles. “Wanna cum with you,” you begged, stroking him faster and in time with your hips.

“I know you do, I know,” he breathed against your lips. “Just a little faster … yes, just like that. Fuck.”

Only a moment later were you trembling, hips stuttering as pleasure took over your body. You came hard, squeezing his thigh between your legs, and your cry was swallowed by Wonwoo’s lips. If he didn’t kiss you, he knew he’d moan so loud it would wake the entire hotel. Because – oh, god, he was cumming now, and he was sighing against your mouth as he erupted in your hand, ropes of cum staining your t-shirt. He could’ve swore he saw white. He’d never felt a release like this before; not with anyone else. Not even when he jerked off. But maybe it was because this was your hand and you were cumming on his leg, and fuck –

You were still shaking in each other’s arms, minds blank and reeling, bodies coming down from the high. It took the kind of strength that moved mountains to slip from his arms and clean yourself up. But by the time you came back from the bathroom and cuddled up next to him, Wonwoo was already fast asleep.

Jeon Wonwoo [6:08 AM]: I had to leave early this morning before anyone woke. But if you want, I’d like to see you at breakfast this morning :)

You [7:31 AM]: Jeon Wonwoo, I’m begging you to just text this to me

You [7:31 AM]: Also, was your phone hacked? Since when do you use emojis?

There wasn’t much to do on the last day of sales meeting week. The only things on your plate were to make niceties with some of the new reps, and probably attend a few presentations by HR. When you had finally woken up this morning to just you in the bed, you almost considered skipping the HR presentations, feeling too guilty and like they might see right through you. It was irrational, but you were sure that this was the only way to feel after realizing that you hooked up with your coworker and friend. 

Not that you hadn’t wanted to. Not that you hadn’t been thinking about it since your kiss. No, it wasn’t like that at all.

So why were suddenly terrified to see him at breakfast?

You got ready as quick as you could – but of course, making sure you wore that V-neck sweater that showed off your cleavage just right – and threw your hair up before leaving your hotel room. The line for the breakfast buffet was packed, but you waited patiently and decided to sit near the bar once you plate was full. The rest of the dining room was filled with people and you weren’t awake enough to make shitty small talk. Sitting here at the bar top was peaceful and quiet –

“Is this … seat taken?”

Your eyes met his instantly, and you noticed the way Wonwoo was cringing at the line he threw at you. You decided to forget it, for his sake, and gestured for him to sit down. Fuck, you were so goddamn nervous, even though you had agreed to meet him in the first place. You wore this low-cut sweater for him. You both sat in silence for a bit, crunching awkwardly on the burnt bacon, and shifting in your seats. 

“Did you …” You were surprised that your mouth was moving on it’s own volition, spilling any words that came to your head. “… Do anything this morning since you were up early?”

Wonwoo choked a bit on a strawberry, but recovered quickly. “Uh … yeah, yeah, sure. Once I came down here, one of the IT interns found me in a panic because he couldn’t set up one of the rep’s new work phones. Created a whole scene over nothing.”

You snorted and sipped your coffee. “Is that intern still breathing?”

His eyes flickered to yours, a slow smile growing on his face. “Yes, actually.”

You fell into sync then, letting the awkward silence melt away as you joked about Wonwoo’s interns. He wasn’t meant to teach college students, god help them. But as your plates became empty and a server came around to take them, you two were left with only the mugs in your hands, strangely reminiscent of that apology coffee he bought for you so long ago.

Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, so about last night – or I guess, this morning …”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you interjected, setting your coffee down. “I have a hangover, but I am thriving.”

He blinked. “Well, that’s good. But I was referring to –”

You almost couldn’t look at him when you said, “The fact that we’re definitely not just friends anymore?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that part.”

“I …” You licked your lips as you gathered yourself. There was this … terrifying flutter in your chest. You’d never felt something like this before, but you weren’t keen on letting it go. Not yet. “I would like to see you again. Like that. Definitely not during work hours. If you catch my drift. This is awkward.”

Wonwoo had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see him trying to hold in his laughter, but it was clear as day. You sighed loud and hit his arm, making him look at you once again as he snickered to himself. “You know, you could just ask me if I want to hang out.”

You leveled a look at him and huffed. “Okay, Wonwoo, do you –”

“Yes,” he beamed. “Always, yes.”

You found yourself at Wonwoo’s side more often than not. What used to be work get togethers transitioned to meeting up at a bar, or checking a new restaurant on the weekends. Sometimes he’d ask you to come over so you could taste test a new recipe he found. (Unfortunately for both of you, Wonwoo wasn’t very good at cooking, but he was getting better. Somewhat.) Those recipe nights, however, always led to him lifting you up on his creaky kitchen counter and kissing you so hard that you almost forgot to breathe. Until Mingyu came into the kitchen, making a gagging sound, and you two instantly detached from each other.

Friday nights were known as Mingyu’s Movie Nights, and Wonwoo began inviting you to those. He had said that this would help knock a few movies off your Letterboxd Watchlist, but you knew that was just an excuse for wanting to see you. You probably saw him more than anyone now, but you couldn’t deny that you … wanted to see him too. Having him in your life made everything suddenly better. He was kind and smart and thoughtful. He made you laugh in ways you couldn’t explain, and obviously … he didn’t have to do much to make you want him. He’d simply have to look at you and you’d get on his lap. If Mingyu wasn’t there, of course.

Wonwoo seemed to blossomed with you. He was more excited to leave his apartment, more eager to become a better cook. He spoke up often, whether it be at work or out with you, rather than letting someone talk. He wanted to learn all the things that you liked, wanted to touch you exactly where you needed it, wanted to find new ways to leave you breathless. Because it was for you.

Even Mingyu noticed a difference in his friend. He’d known Wonwoo for so many years now, but he’d never made this much of a change for anyone. One night, when you and Mingyu were alone in the kitchen, he mentioned, “He’s different around you.” And then kept pouring wine in three glasses while Wonwoo picked a movie from the living room.

There were also times where Wonwoo was a booty call, of course, and neither of you had any problems with that. Some nights, Wonwoo would call you after Mingyu went to bed, begging you to come over, but ended up settling for phone sex. His attraction to you in stockings only went up, and it was difficult for him to contain his arousal at work when you strutted around just knowing how it affected him. There was days where all he wanted to do was pull you into a janitor closet and fuck the living daylights out of you. But it wasn’t like you’d let him anyway.

You had your fair share of desperate moments too. Especially tonight, as you were out drinking with your friends at a local spot you’d been coming to for years. The live band was loud and you’d had your fair share of shitty margaritas already. One of your friends was tugging on the arm of some rando she met on the dance floor, yelling over the music that she was leaving and she’d text you when she was home safe. That left you shit out of luck for a ride home, and suddenly very lonely. The last thing you wanted was to drink alone at a shitty bar on a Saturday night.

Wandering outside, your heeled boots crunched in the snow as you looked for the nearest Uber. The fastest one around would take over 20 minutes to get to you, and as you looked around the empty city streets … wait, didn’t Wonwoo live around here? Maybe all the tequila was just getting to you. But you called him anyway, and despite the time reaching 1 AM, he answered instantly. He heard the slight lisp in your voice, and once he got out of you exactly where you were, he realized you were right. It only took him about 10 minutes to get to where you were, parking on the side of the road. 

He sighed at the sight of you sitting on the curb, shivering and hugging your jacket around you. Various drunk people filtered in and out of the bar, but none of them checked on you – a freezing girl just sitting on the side of the road. “Why didn’t you wait inside for me?” He asked, his breath hot against your cheek when he pulled you up in his arms. Your dress rode up a little, and his hands were quick to yank it back down. “It’s the middle of winter.”

“I jusssst thought … the cold air would sssssober me up,” you slurred, letting him place you in his passenger seat before running back over to the driver’s side. His car was warm, making you bury yourself in your jacket, but his hand on your thigh was even warmer somehow. If your fingers weren’t so cold, you’d wrap your hand around his wrist, inching his palm up higher as he drove.

Once he was parked, he wasted no time getting you out and helping you up the stairs to his apartment. Mingyu was passed out on the couch, an old movie from the 80s playing on the TV, but you could hardly register it because your brain was spinning and Wonwoo was practically dragging you to his bedroom. He was grateful that all the lights were off so you couldn’t see how messy it was, but honestly, it was a miracle if you could see anything clearly right now.

He sat you down on the bed and you looked up at him with bleary eyes, which made you so fucking hard to resist. All the tequila you drank was pumping through your bloodstream, and you couldn’t help but fist your hands in his t-shirt and try to kiss him. He evaded your lips though – no matter how much he wanted to – and you whined, “Whyyyyyy won’t you kiss me?”

“Shhh …” He whispered, yanking off your boots. “Inside voice. Mingyu’s sleeping.”

You smacked your hands against his mattress. “He’s sleeping in the living room!”

Wonwoo got back to his feet, gesturing as he instructed, “Arms up.” You were too intoxicated to do anything but oblige, lifting your arms as he struggled to pull your dress over your head. Once it was off and thrown to the side with your boots, your hazy vision caught him looking through his drawers for clothes for you to wear. But didn’t he just take your clothes off? You could’ve sworn he did that because he wanted you too right now.

You protested when he tried putting you in one of his simple white tees, but your body felt too limp to fight. He slipped the shirt over your head before pulling back his comforter and wrapping you in it. With your eyes half open, you watched him come to the other side of the bed, yanking his pants down and crawling in bed beside you. He reached over you and set his glasses on the side table. You sighed dramatically. Now he was just torturing you. Wonwoo simply chuckled to himself, realizing what you were angry about.

His arms instantly wound around you, his lips pulled into a smile at your hairline. You looked up at him with a scowl and your voice slurred, “Whysss your eyes closed?”

Wonwoo snickered under his breath. “Because it’s late and I’m tired.” His hand on your lower back traced circles, attempting to coax you to sleep.

“I thought you wanted meeeee,” you complained. Your hand reached in between you two, smoothing your palm against his groin as he slowly started to harden under your touch. You heard his breath hitch slightly, so you kept going, a soft ache beginning between your own legs at just the thought of putting him in your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, I always want you.” He then grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from him, and then lacing your fingers together. Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, he sighed sleepily, “But you’re much sexier when you’re sober.”

You started to realize why you didn’t usually do this, why it had been so long since you let someone see every part of you. What you looked like completely stripped down – both inside and out – completely vulnerable for your person. How your face contorted during pleasure, and how it relaxed when you were taken care of.

Catching feelings like this meant giving up control.

You didn’t work on the weekends unless you had to, and when the Boss sent you a high priority email on Saturday morning, you didn’t hesitate. He had transferred over a bunch of sensitive files that were needed for a board presentation first thing Monday morning. But of course, something just had to go wrong: the files were corrupted and you had no way of figuring out what to do. And it wasn’t like your boss was on call like you were on a Saturday.

This was how you ended up at Wonwoo’s apartment.

You had called him in a panic, explaining what had went wrong, but he didn’t seem too fazed. He was used to your tech emergencies by now. But by the time you got to his apartment, out of breath after running from the train station, he had realized just how serious you were taking this. You both sat down on his couch and you let him work his magic. His fingers moved across the keys as if he were a musician, and you couldn’t stop biting your nail nervously.

Mingyu came back to the apartment after grocery shopping, waving at you before putting all the food away. Seeing as you were here, maybe they could all go out and have fun tonight. He went into the living room, ready to mention a band that was playing at a local venue later, but upon seeing the stressed look on both your faces, he exhaled. “It’s a Saturday,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Why do you two look like that?”

“Corrupted documents,” Wonwoo answered quickly, not even looking up from the monitor. 

“I don’t even want to know more,” he said, grabbing his leather jacket from the coat rack and tugging his arms through the sleeves. “Just your faces are making me anxious. I’m heading out. Don’t wait up.”

You gave Mingyu a wave as he left, but Wonwoo was too focused to even say goodbye. It took about another hour and one cup of coffee, but Wonwoo eventually figured out how to uncorrupt the files. You let out a sigh of relief as he handed the laptop back to you and you were able to open each of them without issue. Thank god, you had managed to figure this out before Monday morning. And … having Wonwoo wasn’t too bad either.

“Thank you,” you beamed, not being able to resist pinching his cheek. “My hero.”

Silence engulfed the room as you both noticed how the sky was already getting dark. You cleared your throat, slipping your laptop back into your bag and muttering, “Thanks again. I know I kind of barged in and wasted your Saturday afternoon –”

Like the saint he was, Wonwoo simply smiled at you. “No time with you is a waste.”

Whatever words you were about to say clogged in your throat. You swallowed hard, attempting to hide your fluster, but you ended up choking out, “I … should go.”

“You don’t have to.” He stood from the couch, walking over to you and running his hands down your arms. His brow lifted. “Do you want to?”

You let the strap of your bag fall to the floor as your hands cupped his neck. “No, not particularly.”

Wonwoo chuckled, leaning in and letting his lips just lightly graze yours. “We have the place to ourselves,” he hummed, slowly dragging you backwards with him. “Mingyu’s gone … probably won’t be back until midnight.”

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, letting him lead you to his room, as limp as a rag doll. Once he shut his bedroom door behind you, he flicked the light on. You pressed your back against the door and your eyes roamed around the space. This was the first time you saw his bedroom with the light on; every other time had been pitch black. You liked that his walls weren’t bare – they were filled with posters of his favorite musicians or photographs. On his desk was a large monitor and a gaming set up, but also a camera with stacks of film next to it. His furniture was old – probably from the 90s, probably passed down from his family – but the scratches within the wood told a story. And unlike most men, his sheets were gray.

Wonwoo realized you were scanning his room, and he became acutely aware of the clothes scattered amongst his floor. He muttered something to himself, beginning to pick up the clothes piles and chuck them into his hamper. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I inherited the organized gene like Mingyu.”

You tilted your head, striding over and pulling him up, making him halt his actions. Your hands went to his face as you brought him closer. With a smile, you whispered, “I don’t want to talk about Mingyu,” before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss became deep far too quickly, or maybe time was passing faster than usual. Your lips crashed so hard against his that they’d bruise. He took off his glasses, setting them on his drawer, before his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans. You stepped forward, making him step back, then another, and another – until you had him falling back on his bed. You straddled him, arching your back so you could lick into his mouth just how he liked. Hands sliding up his shirt, you felt his abdomen flex underneath you. His fingers in your belt loops jerked you closer, pressing your hips to his, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning into the kiss.

You smiled against his mouth, dragging your lips down his neck, and then even further, as you slinked down his body. Your eyes were trained on his, and he was trying his best not to look like a complete idiot in front of you. But it was difficult when you were looking at him with those eyes and – oh, now you were pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants, practically salivating when you noticed how hard he was already.

But … this was what you guys always did. Not that he had an issue with you giving him blow jobs, but none of this felt particularly intimate. You never really let him worship you; you took control of the entire situation. As if you were bringing your professional stubbornness to the bedroom.

“Wait,” he choked out as you palmed his growing bulge. “Can we … can we try something different?”

Your brows furrowed and you continued pressing sloppy kisses above his groin. “Why would we do that?”

Wonwoo let out a frustrated sound, and before you could prepare yourself, he was yanking his pants back up and pinning you underneath him. You blinked up at him in surprise, and he was gripping your wrists above your head now, his bodyweight pressing you into the mattress. He almost looked shocked that he had the strength to push you back, but his blown-out pupils gave away his true desire.

“What was that for?” You asked incredulously. Nerves clouded your thoughts, making you stutter. “I thought … I thought you liked …”

“No, trust me, I do,” he assured you, and then tipped his head as he gazed down at you. “I just … why won’t you let me take care of you?”

You scoffed then, trying to cover up how petrifying this conversation was becoming. Were you that transparent now, or did he simply know you far too well for your own good?

“I have no idea what you’re –”

Wonwoo gave you one of his infamous leveled looks, and you sighed. “You’re in constant need of seeking control when it’s always at your fingertips. It’s okay to let it go; it won’t slip away.” He let go of your wrists then, but kept his body hovering over yours, holding himself up by his elbows resting near your head. “Please, just … surrender it for once. Let me take the lead.”

You glanced down at your hands on your chest, twiddling your thumbs. Eventually, you murmured, “It’s hard. I’ve never done that before.”

“Can we try? I like …” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then let his head fall as he chuckled to himself. “This is so awkward. I just – I like prioritizing your pleasure. It feels much better for me and I think it will for you too. And if you don’t like it –”

“I’m not good with change,” you blurted.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice taking on that husky tone that made warmth pool in your stomach. His eyes flickered to your lips now, noticing how swollen they still were. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. It was just a suggestion, and I probably ruined the mood.”

You shook your head immediately, allowing your fingers to tenderly sweep over his shirt. “No, I …” A voice in the back of your head told you this was a good thing, and you did want this, but the fear of change was overwhelming. You wanted to step out of your comfort zone, desperately, for once. You were allowed to do this; you were allowed to be happy. 

Your gaze met his again. “I want to try.”

His eyes softened with affection, but then he asked, “You’re not just agreeing for my sake, right?”

“Now when have I ever done that?” You laughed, making him smile along with you. 

But as soon as his mouth met yours, that awkward, giggling persona seemed to melt away. Jeon Wonwoo morphed into an entirely different person, someone that possessed your jaw in his large hand, pulling at your bottom lip before kissing you harder. It was enough to leave you gasping for air once he pulled away, spit connecting you two, and he continued to suck and nip his way down your throat. He made sure to leave marks in places that could be covered up for work, but he’d know exactly where they were. God, would he even be able to control himself at his desk, knowing where his bites were hiding under your clothes? 

Tugging your sweater over your head, he practically whined at the sight of your breasts, constricted in the bra that you told him was too old once, but you kept wearing it anyway because he said it was cute. He lifted you for a moment, expertly removing it with one hand, before licking the valley between your breasts. You arched into him, sighing into your arm when he swirled his tongue around your taut nipple. He glanced up and realized you were hiding your face, so he pushed your hand off. “I want you to look at me while I do this,” he cooed, but it sounded more like a demand.

Despite the embarrassment, you did as he asked, feeling completely bewitched as you watched him cup the swell of your breast, tugging on your nipple. This felt like a goddamn Pornhub video. You two have had sex before, yes, but not like this. Never like this. Wonwoo had always let you do what you were comfortable with, keeping his other side at bay while you rode him hard on the couch. But this … this felt like something else entirely. The way he was lavishing both your nipples, coating them with his spit, demanding you to watch … Expletives filtered softly from your mouth, wetness gathering between your thighs. It suddenly felt too hot and your jeans were still on.

Wonwoo was taking his time with you though, and it was very clear to you that this wouldn’t just be one of those nights where you had sex for 10 minutes before ordering pizza. When he lifted his mouth from your left nipple, he asked calmly, “Do you like this or do you want more?”

You sneered, “Well, of course, I like –”

His hand came up instantly to pinch your other nipple, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that came out of your mouth. “No teasing,” he said, lowering his head to flick that nipple with his tongue. “Just answer me.”

“More,” you choked out, your hips arching off the bed, seeking friction. “Please, more.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss between your breasts once again, before lowering himself down your body. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his lips down your stomach. Eventually, he had to stand from the bed so he could finally unzip your pants, tugging when they got stuck around your ankles. When the cold air hit between your legs, you realized how soaked you were already. Wonwoo smirked to himself, slowly rolling your panties down your legs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you joked, kicking your panties off into a pile by his bed. 

He lifted your ankle, nipping playfully, and replied, “Told you that you’d like me taking the lead.”

You rolled your eyes as he settled between your thighs, bending your knees back so your feet rested beside his head. You bit your lip as he placed sloppy kisses on your inner thigh, biting hard enough to make a bruise. Wonwoo fought hard to maintain a sense of composure, but god, the sight of your pretty pussy oozing slick made him wonder if he could cum untouched. You had let him finger you before, but had never been in the mood for this. And this was something Wonwoo had been fantasizing about since the day he noticed that tear in your stockings. He could jump for joy if that didn’t make him look like an absolute fucking loser.

He pushed your folds apart with two fingers, running a hand down his face as he attempted to school his expression. It was just so fucking hard to act cool when you were this aroused. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead, deciding to quip, “Wonwoo, can you even find the clit without your glasses on –”

Without warning, he spit on your pussy and buried his face between your thighs. The words died on your tongue immediately, and you let out the loudest whine he’d ever heard in his life. He smiled, but that didn’t deter him from circling his tongue around your clit. He wound one of his arms around your thigh, holding you in place as he pressed his face further.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucked and drew out the prettiest sounds from you, using his free hand to slip two fingers inside you. You tasted exactly like he dreamed about, sweet and tangy and so unmistakably you. He looked up at you from between your legs, curling his fingers in the spot that made tears prick at your eyes, and when your gaze found his, it was like something in him snapped. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled, feasting at you like he’d been starved for days. 

Your fingers were in his hair now, pressing his head more into you, which only made this more enjoyable for him. He nearly came in his pants when your hips began to buck against his face, but this was about you. And him experiencing you cumming on his face. But mostly you. His fingers pumped faster inside you and his tongue was now flicking your clit, allowing more of your arousal to invade his mouth. He’d never get tired of this taste; he was obsessed. Now that he finally got a taste of you … he never wanted to not be doing this. Never wanted his face too far from the apex of your legs. Not when you had the sweetest taste that could move heaven and earth between these thighs.

And when you finally came on his tongue, he noticed that your legs shook like an earthquake. Your essence flooded his mouth, and he moaned – god, did he moan – lapping at you, never missing a drop of what you gave him. His fingers kept curling inside of you, making your orgasm feel like forever. When he finally removed them with a wet pop, he didn’t miss the opportunity to have more of you, wrapping his mouth around those two fingers and licking off the last of your release. You watched him, completely mesmerized by the way he savored you, even darting his tongue out to capture the whatever seeped out of you. Your hips jolted, suddenly so sensitive, and he grinned up at you.

You hardly caught your breath before he crawling up your body, kissing you hard and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands fisted in his t-shirt, and when you ripped your lips away from his, you arched a brow. “You are still fully clothed,” you reminded, and then swiped at the spit lining his bottom lip.

Wonwoo simply smiled, ghosting his lips over yours before trailing them to your ear. “I’m getting to that part. Patience,” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe. “You must really want me inside you.”

“I want to not be the only one naked.”

“Say it,” he prodded in a weirdly casual tone.

“What?”

“Say you want me inside you.”

“This is ridiculous –”

He lifted his head from your jawline. “I can easily leave this room and order a pizza,” he teased, and you blinked at him. He was actually being serious. He would completely ignore what looked like a throbbing erection in his pants, just to make a point. You knew he wasn’t trying to be mean; he wanted to get you out of your comfort zone. This was so stupid, because you did want him inside you. Embarrassingly so. He had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life, but you still had this … aching need to be filled. Your cheeks heated just at the thought of it.

“I …” Your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to make your whole face turn bright red. With a sigh, your eyes connected again, and you answered, “I want you inside me, Wonwoo.”

He rewarded you with a kiss, pulling away before it could get too heated again, and stood from the bed. “Well, when you ask nicely …” He smiled, that dominating demeanor slipping for a moment as he pulled his shirt off. You’d never get tired of the way Wonwoo looked without a shirt. He didn’t let anyone see it very often – he wasn’t like his roommate – but the moments he did, you felt eternally grateful. His torso was toned, with defined abs and pecks that made your mind boggle. You liked that his arms were long and muscled; his hands large and slightly calloused. 

You liked everything about him.

When he finally went to kick off his sweatpants, he noticed a large precum stain on the gray fabric from just eating you out. Which was probably the biggest jab to his calm and collected attitude right now, but he didn’t let it slip. He simply threw the sweatpants to the side, coming up close to the bed again, where your legs were now hanging off the edge. You gazed up at him as if he held the world in his palms, watching the way he reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, never used to the size. He was slightly thicker than average, but long. Longer than you ever expected. With a pretty pink head leaking sticky precum.

It was killing you how long he was taking. Your legs shifted, ready to make a move to yank him underneath you, but he was faster than you. He pinned your wrists about your head with one hand this time, using his other to keep a firm grip on his cock. “You want to be in control that badly, huh?” He asked, tilting his head.

His hand was moving up and down his shaft now, letting precum dribble on your stomach. Your eyes flickered from his cock back to his eyes. “I just … I need you, Wonwoo,” you begged, your voice taking on a new tone. And somehow … wanting him so bad like this was ten times more arousing than riding him on the couch. “Please, please, Wonwoo. Please, fuck me.”

Your pleas had him falling apart, and he sighed, letting go of your wrists to discard his boxers too. His cock flopped against his stomach, hard and aching and – fuck, had he always been veiny? He got on top of you again, cooing against your lips, “I know, baby, I know.” His rubbed the underside of his length against your wet folds, moaning at the slightest bit of friction. “I’ll fuck you real good. I promise.”

Pressing the head of his cock at your entrance, his breath hitched at just the feeling of your arousal coating his shaft. You both had never taken your time with sex. But he was doing that tonight now that he was in control, letting himself slowly push inside you, feel you completely stretch open for him. You mewled, slinking your arms around his neck and carding your fingers at the nape. And when he finally buried himself to the hilt, his lips fell open and he groaned. You felt so good he could cum right now, but he needed to get a grip. The last thing he needed was to cum too fast.

Not that you would like him any less if he did.

“Wonwoo,” you cried, your hips arching up to meet his. “Please.”

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance-like state he was in. He settled more on top of you, resting his elbows on both sides of your head, and pulled all the way out so only the tip remained. You whined at the emptiness, which soon changed to a gasp when he bullied his cock back in. Your fingers tugged at his hair; your legs crossed around his waist, drawing him deeper inside. “Fuck,” he muttered, still feeling how tight you were, how you molded yourself for him. “So fucking … god, so wet.”

His restraint could only last so long. He’d gotten his fill of feeling you adjust around him. He couldn’t take this anymore, or he was going to cum before you both had even started. With a deep breath, he set a brutal pace inside of you, his hips snapping forward. Tears rolled down your cheeks; how could something feel so good that you cried? Wonwoo seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he was burying his face in the crook of your neck and groaning, “God, so good … you feel so good … how can anyone feel this good?”

The only word you could choke out was, “Ditto,” which you’d regret for hours after this. But now was not the time.

He was fucking into you so hard that you were already sore, but you were holding onto him for dear life, clinging to him as that warmth burned in your gut. The way his cock curved and grazed your g-spot perfectly, making you tremble and whimper his name like a prayer. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling how deep his cock nestled inside you, and you noticed him shiver in your arms. He was trying desperately to fight off his release. That coil in your gut began to tighten, and from the way Wonwoo was breathing, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted you to cum first though – like always – wanted to feel you clamp around him, squeeze him so tight that he saw white. 

So he did what he did best: reached in between your bodies, finding your swollen, sensitive clit so easily, and rubbed slow circles. He lifted his head from your neck, wanting to see that familiar look in your eyes when you saw stars. “Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice was so deep that it reverberated against your chest.

And finally, as he pressed his thumb down hard and pushed into you just right, you felt your orgasm crest. “Fuck, Wonwoo,” you sobbed, body shaking as you came undone. 

But Wonwoo wasn’t stopping. He kept fucking into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And when your walls squeezed him so tight, he buried himself completely and came hard, a generous amount of fucks leaving his lips. His cheek pressed against yours; his groans muffled by the comforter. You held him close as he filled you to the brink with his release, and it almost felt like hours before he realized he finished. 

You exhaled together, allowing your heart rates to settle. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then to your nose, and now he was kissing all over your face. Your cheeks instantly tinged pink, but you let him do as he pleased. He didn’t even make a move off you, letting his cock soften inside your warmth. When your eyes opened, he was staring down at you like you were the sun. You searched his eyes, “What?”

His dark gaze flickered to your lips for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you really say, ‘Ditto,’ during sex?”

You and Wonwoo had gotten into a routine. Of course, you saw him 5 days out of the week at work, but you wanted more of him. You figured out Mingyu’s schedule, coming over most nights when he wasn’t home – besides Mingyu’s Movie Nights. You would let Wonwoo cook for you, and he promised he was getting better, before he led you to his room with kisses to your neck and a firm grip on your hand. 

He always went with whatever you were comfortable with, but you found yourself letting him take the lead more often than not. You liked letting him prioritize you; you liked being selfish with him. Giving up control felt … much better than anticipated. Everything about this felt too good to be true. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you didn’t want to spoil it by asking him the dreaded, “What are we?” For now, you’d exist in your safe little bubble, where he would smile at you at work and then fuck your brains out after hours. It felt perfect, simple.

You approached sex through a different lens now. Instead of simply riding him on that godforsaken old couch, you let him go at his own pace: placing you on his lap, having his way with you and making you cum at least 3 times before he sunk you down on his cock, bouncing you up and down as you clung to him, practically letting him use you as a flesh light. Even when he let you sit on his face, it was on his terms: his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark, trying to suffocate himself with your pussy, not allowing you to cum until he said so, no matter how much you needed to. But it felt too good to stop. You didn’t want this to stop. You liked the lack of control, liked the way he took care of you. The way he bent your knees back as he slid into you, keeping eye contact, so you’d feel him that much deeper … the way he could feast on you for hours, never getting enough of your taste … there was something about it that made you feel more than beautiful. 

Especially when he looked at you as if you were his world.

Especially when he fucked into you and you realized you might be in love with him.

You tended to get lost in thought while laying in bed on an early morning. The birds chirped outside, your phone chimed along with each new notification. Curling underneath your comforter, you held your pounding head, reminiscing on last Sunday. You had gone over Wonwoo’s apartment and he had surprised you with a spaghetti dinner. Mingyu promised that it was “more edible than usual” before he left you two alone in the apartment.

You had noticed the shine in Wonwoo’s eyes, how excited he was to do this for you. He had never bothered to learn anything for anyone, but all he wanted to do was please you. To make you happy. And you could see that in the way he gazed at you, making your stomach do flip flops. Letting him have all this control over you, letting him see past the fortress you’d kept up for who knows how long … it was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

He taught you how to play his favorite video game after dinner, placing you in between his legs on the couch and letting you lean back against his broad chest. His arms cocooned around you, nestling your body in his embrace. Sometimes he would nibble on your ear as you fought to maintain hand-eye coordination with the controller. Eventually, you had given up and asked to watch him, but that led to his hand dropping the controller as the enemy killed him off. And then his fingers were slowly slipping down the waistband of your leggings, rubbing your slit over your panties. You had arched into him, your ass pressing against his hardening erection as he pulled your panties to the side, already finding you wet and ready for his touch. He chuckled in your ear, “How long have you been thinking about this?” His index finger rubbed tight circles on your clit, and all that you could formulate for a response was a moan as he –

You cut yourself off from the memory before it could end you.

Your stomach churned. Despite your better judgement, you had completely fallen head-over-heels for senior IT specialist, Jeon Wonwoo, and that was terrifying. He had seen your personality unfold, seen the most vulnerable parts of you. But nothing was more scary than admitting to yourself how much you liked him, maybe even loved. You were frantic to the point of exhaustion, so stressed that you felt sick. Soon you were shivering, your head pounding as a fever came on, and you stayed home from work for a few days. Your phone notifications be damned – you stayed in your bedroom with the blinds closed, sleeping the days away.

Every so often, you would hear your phone chime. Your phone screen would light up with another text message. But … you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. This behavior was illogical and stupid; you just simply couldn’t help yourself. You were an avoidant. The only thing you knew how to do was slowly push him away before he saw all the layers underneath your carefully crafted facade.

What if he finally saw how anxious you were all the time?

What if he knew how you secretly craved to be loved your entire life, but you looked for it elsewhere, in places like workplace praise or crowded bars where you couldn’t see another person’s face?

What if he knew you weren’t as organized up in your head as you were at your desk?

Or worse … what if he didn’t like you back?

TUESDAY, APRIL 22

Wonwoo: What’s going on?

Wonwoo: I managed to find out that you’re sick. I can make you soup, if you want? I know my cooking is terrible. But what if this time it’s good and it cures you?

Wonwoo: If I threaten to message you on Slack, will that make you reply?

Wonwoo: I promise I won’t. Unless … lol

Wonwoo: You’re not dead, right?

Wonwoo: Please, answer me.

FRIDAY, APRIL 25

UNKNOWN: hey, it’s Mingyu. I found your number in Wonwoo’s phone. he’s really messed up right now and worrying about you.

UNKNOWN: idk what’s going on between you two, but I don’t like seeing him like this.

UNKNOWN: just … call him. or text him. or something.

Jeon Wonwoo [10:13 AM]: Did your computer die and you need a new charger?

Jeon Wonwoo [3:21 PM]: I miss you.

When you finally returned to work, it’s on a day that your cubicle mate had decided to work from home. You couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or curse until the next day, when you wished that he decided to work from home forever. It was on a Tuesday morning that you finally faced him again, locking eyes with him from across the boardroom table in an all-hands meeting. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say, but … he didn’t speak to you any way. In fact, even when you both got back to your desks, he kept quiet, throwing on his headphones and focusing on whatever task was at hand. His attitude change wasn’t exactly surprising, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him either.

All your other coworkers looked bewildered. The silence between you two made just about everyone feel awkward. They all saw how close you and Wonwoo had become, and now everything just felt … flat. Silent. Empty. It was like you two were strangers. Maybe you had never really known each other in the first place, if you could both discard each other so easily. 

But that just seemed too good to be true. You thought about him everyday, despite yourself, and he had to think of you too. You caught his eyes on you every once in a while, and you couldn’t help but yearn for him in silence. It was probably time for you to take charge again and make the first move, but you found yourself hesitating. Again. You were overwhelmed with thoughts of rejection. 

This was why you never gave up control with someone before. It left you suddenly so, so doubtful.

You [1:34 PM]: I can’t get into my Outlook. I think I’ve locked myself out 

Jeon Wonwoo is now offline.

You [1:36 PM]: I miss you too

It was a busy Sunday, the first notes of Spring evident in the air. You needed to go to the post office today, the supermarket, probably check in on your parents … but that was all discarded when you made the sudden decision to take a taxi to Wonwoo’s apartment. Your hands were shaking more than his when he first touched you. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety, and when the taxi finally pulled up to his building, you considered never getting out. 

But you couldn’t continue being a coward. Besides, this driver had places to be, with the way he was arguing for you to pay in cash.

You were lucky enough to slide in through the building’s entrance while someone was walking out. The less you had to embarrass yourself by calling Mingyu to let you in, the better. The walk up those two flights of stairs was long and tiring, and it wasn’t because you always hated them. You physically couldn’t make yourself go faster, too frightened of what he was going to say when he saw you. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything; maybe he’d slam the door in your face. And you couldn’t blame him, because now you were at his door and – oh, god, you wanted to hurl.

The door was opening before you could even catch your breath. When you caught that first glimpse of Mingyu, you realized how much of a mistake this was. You could always turn back, run down the stairs before anyone could say a word.

But as soon as you both locked eyes, Mingyu raised his brow, but not in a mocking sense. It was as if … he expected you to be here. He sighed, leaning against the door, and without looking back, he called out, “Wonwoo! You got a visitor.”

Your eyes went wide, and then Mingyu was pushing past you, leaving the door open and muttering, “Good luck.” He was rushing down the stairs two at a time before you could even say a word back. But then you were seeing him, and you wondered if it had always been this hard to breathe around him.

Your fingers played absentmindedly as you both stared at each other. His glasses were slipping down his nose, but he made no move to fix them. His own hand was too busy dropping the controller that had been in his grip, now clattering to the floor. His hair was messed up and he was wearing his favorite comfy sweatsuit, and you … you were put together, as always. Your hair unwashed, but pulled up in a ponytail, and wearing that cardigan he liked so much on you. If he wasn’t so hurt, just the sight of you would have him on his knees right now, begging to have you.

He had to turn around and walk away. If he didn’t right now, he’d just –

“Wait,” you said, walking in and closing the door when he spun away. “Please, don’t. I –”

“What could you possibly say?” He snapped, facing you once again. You had never heard his voice at this octave before, never seen so much distress on his face. “I thought we knew each other well enough that you wouldn’t cut me off out of nowhere. As if I’m just some guy you met at a bar last weekend.”

Your mouth opened, and then closed. 

“Do you … do you even understand how worried I was about you?” He ran a hand through his hair, voice cracking for the first time in forever. You took a step closer to him. “You weren’t answering me and I just … my head went to the worst. I thought Mingyu was gonna kill me the next time I mentioned your name. And then, to see you at work and realizing that you were actually just ghosting me was a fucking punch to the gut. I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. But I’m so pissed at you for hurting my feelings that I’m not even sure if I wanna know.”

“Wonwoo –” You started.

“Please, don’t say my name like that,” he sighed and pinched his nose. “I realize that you came all this way to finally break the news to me, but I’m good. It’s very obvious to me now that you don’t like me as much as I like you, and to save us the pity party, let me get you home –” He reached for his wallet to grab some cash for your next taxi.

But you interrupted before he could finish.

“I love you.”

He paused, looking up and making sure he heard you right. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” you said it again, and it felt so freeing to have this weight lifted off your shoulders. You moved closer, now standing a foot away, but refusing to touch him for your own good. “And I’m not just telling you that as an excuse. Ignoring you was cruel and I can never forgive myself for hurting you. I just … when I realized how deep my feelings for you were …” Your throat closed up, as if your body was acting on instinct, preventing you from being vulnerable with him.

Wonwoo closed the distance. “Hey,” he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I’m right here with you.”

His voice was so reassuring – as always – opening you up like a blooming flower. And suddenly, your mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore and your nails stopped making crescent-shaped indents in your palm.

“I got scared,” you confessed, your gaze locked on his. “And I ran away, because that was the easiest thing to do. I thought ignoring you would be best for both of us, and I stubbornly didn’t want to hear your opinion on any of this. What I did was wrong and I … I hate myself when I do stuff like this to people I care about.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, but he wiped them with his thumb before they could fall. You sniffled, noticing the hurt in his eyes had faded, replaced only by adoration. Your lips pursed as you searched his gaze.

“I’ve just … never allowed anyone to open me up like this. I’ve never given my feelings to someone and let them care for me.” You blinked, your eyes rimmed red. “I’ve hardly been able to comprehend my own feelings because I’ve been scared shitless of them in the first place. But I can’t … I can’t justify pushing you away anymore. Because I love you. I don’t like being alone anymore and all I ever want to do is see you. Sometimes I’m afraid if I stop holding you, you’ll disappear. You do so much for me; you literally fix something on my computer everyday. I think if I let you go right now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and I –”

Wonwoo cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t remember the last time he kissed you like this: so gently with his palm cupping your jaw. You felt yourself relax when he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His tongue licked into your mouth, sighing with relief when the familiar taste of you entered his orbit again. The taste of coffee and peppermint gum and the peanut butter and jelly you definitely had for lunch today. It was everything he loved about you, and he smiled into the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he said, “Sorry, I interrupted your monologue.”

“It’s okay. Someone needed to before I got into the Hamlet soliloquy I prepared.”

He chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, and just that had a blush creeping to your cheeks. “I forgive you,” he whispered, leaning back in to ghost his lips all over your face. Your warm breath fanned his mouth. “Just don’t do that again. I know I don’t show it very often, but I’m secretly very …” He smiled softer this time, pecking just slightly on the corner of your mouth. “Sensitive.”

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting him all the more closer. “I know. I promise.” You brushed your nose over his. “If I ever ignore you for even a couple hours, you have full permission to annoy me on Slack.”

Wonwoo had to cover his mouth from letting out the loudest laugh possible, but it made you feel all the better to see him happy. You could spend forever seeing him this happy. You got up on your tiptoes just to stare at him more, to press yourself closer and feel his grin against your cheek.

But he was holding your face now, sighing down at you with a smile that almost made you swoon. “For the record,” he replied, “I love you too.” 

[wonuwonder]

i’m actually crying this is the best thing i’ve ever read i can’t-😭😭😭😭

[cheolaholic]

entangled hearts; jww & kmg

summary; you find yourself caught between Mingyu's bright smile and Wonwoo's knowing stare, it's an entangled mess. but what if there's enough room to love for three?

modern! au • university! au • fluff, angst, smut

pairing; jeon wonwoo x fem!reader x kim mingyu | wc; 16.1k | rating; 18+ explicit nsfw

contains; part-time model! reader, part-time model! mingyu, streamer! wonwoo, art major! mingyu, criminal psychology major! reader, psychology major! wonwoo, hoshi is reader’s cousin, woozi being woozi, friendship breakups, false rumours being spread abt reader, reader accidentally walking in on wonwoo’s stream, brief appearances of other svt members, takes place in the same au as ROL

mature/trigger warnings; poly relationship, dom! wonwoo, switch! mingyu, sub! reader, spitroasting, fingering, begging, oral (f&m receiving), womb stimulation (i think that’s the term), choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple orgasms, creampies, praising, mentions of alcohol, some form of anxiety/panic attack, gaslighting/manipulation tactics

petnames; Wonwoo (Wonu) // Mingyu (Gyu) // hers (Princess, Kitten)

a/n; that’s right yall, it’s a wongyu fic 😋 remember the wongyu couple i teased and mentioned about in rol, well, here it is !! not beta read, we die like soldiers 🫡 this is my first time writing a threesome so i had to REALLY read through some other threesome fics & doujins for inspo/references. if any similarities are found, it is not my intent to copy or plagiarise them 🙏🏻

✨ support me by becoming a patreon (enjoy exclusive perks & content) OR tip me on kofi !! 💜 if you are unable to do so, you can also show support by reblogging your favourite works of mine !!

👾 join my general taglist here !!

“Excuse me?”

You turned, instinctively taking a step back while your friends quieted beside you. A woman – tall, confident – stood just outside the café entrance. A leather-bound portfolio tucked beneath one arm, her sunglasses pushed up into her hair.

“I’m sorry, cupcake, I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said, her smile warm but calculated, “but have you ever considered modeling?”

Your friends exchanged surprised glances, and you blinked at her, unsure if she was serious or if you were about to have your organs harvested and sold on the black market.

The woman’s gaze swept over you again, this time more admiring than analytical. “I have an eye for these things, cupcake, and you have it. You have a presence, a posture, even the way you carry that outfit. It’s simple, yet very editorial.” She gestures lightly at your clothes, causing you to glance down at the outfit you’d thrown together.

“That skirt with that jacket? Effortless. You know what you’re doing, even if you don’t realise it yet.”

You felt your cheeks warm, fingers curling slightly around your cup of iced coffee.

“I’m a talent scout,” she adds, flipping her portfolio and pulling out a sleek business card, offering it to you. “If you’re open to it, give me a call. I’d love to talk more.”

“Soonyoung–”

“Please, ___!” Your cousin pleads with you for the nth time that week, hands clasped dramatically in front of his chest. “You’re overwhelmed with studies and your modelling gig. You need a manager and I can totally do it!”

You raise your head and shoot him a skeptical look from over your laptop. “Since when do you know anything about being a manager?”

“I Googled it,” he says, expression dead serious. “And I’ve watched like… dozens of documentaries. Plus, I already help you with blocking out your schedule half the time anyway. Remember that shoot you had last week? Who reminded you to bring backup heels?”

You sigh, knowing Soonyoung was right. He was there when that talent scout spotted you outside the cade; and your life had shifted in ways you’ve never imagined. Castigns, fittings, shoots, and runway preps… It was a lot to balance on top of your academics.

“Just imagine, cuz,” he continues, hands in the air like he’s pitching to a boardroom. “You walk on the runway all calm and collected while I deal with scheduling nightmares and last-minute fittings. You won’t even have to look at an email unless it’s good news!”

“No offense, Soonyoung, but I put more trust in Jeonghan. At least he’s close with Joshua, and Shua knows Jihoon.”

Soonyoung gasps, dramatically placing a hand over his chest like you’d just told him the tiger in his living room wasn’t his son, and instead a taxidermy. “Excuse me!? Both of us quite literally grew up with Jihoon! I even performed with him!”

You raised a brow, “You mean that HxW stage you both put together during the uni fest?”

“Yes! You know how rare it is to perform with the Lee Jihoon?”

“You and Jidae screamed into the mic, and Jihoon looked like he’s one second away from whooping your ass for your Horanghae agenda.”

“He still stayed, though. That is what you call art.”

You stare. “You almost flicked his forehead and I saw your life flash before your eyes.”

He huffs. “Art is messy, ___. But Jihoon and I? We had chemistry, you can’t deny that. He called me ‘not terrible’ after so that definitely means something.”

“Heard Soonyoung appointed himself as your manager.”

You glanced up from your notes, blinking as Jihoon slid into the seat across from you like he hadn’t just dropped the biggest statement like it was small talk. You’re tucked away into your usual corner of the library – headphones halfway in, highlighter stopping mid-way from making contact with your notes.

“He what?” You asked, sliding off your headphones and letting them rest around your shoulders, padded cups pressing lightly against your collarbones.

Jihoon shrugs, resting his arms on the table. “He’s been sending me business emails using an address that ends in horanghae101.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

He cracked the smallest hint of a smile. “He’s oddly persistent. But surprisingly organised.”

“That’s what makes it worse,” you muttered, before narrowing your eyes. “Wait. Why do you know that..?”

“Because the signature he used was Executive Brand Director & Emotional Support to ___.”

You slowly shake your head, “No… You’re lying.” Jihoon simply turned his tablet around, and there it was – screenshot and all.

“Holy fucking shit,” you whispered.

“But,” he said, tone shifting just a little. “His chaos aside, I actually came to talk to you about something else. A little more serious, if you will.”

You raise a brow, straightening in your seat as he pushes the tablet toward you. “Because you set me as your reference in the forms when you signed under Semicolon, and before Soonyoung self-appointed himself as your manager, I was the one getting most of your gig offers.”

“There’s this Dior campaign. Couple’s concept and minimalist luxury. It’s an editorial-style shoot with subtle intimacy. They saw your Vanguard test shots and flagged you immediately.”

You blinked, “Me..?”

“You.”

Tilting your head to the side, your brows knit together, “I’m just doing modeling as a part-time thing, though… Or freelance, as some of them call it. Why me? Why not those full-timers?”

Jihoon gestures to you, “Because you’re… you. I don’t know how to say it, but best way I can put it is you don’t try too hard, y’know? You’re natural. Authentic. Something all these big brands are desperately chasing for ever since authenticity became ‘trendy’. They want someone who doesn’t look like they’re trying to be iconic, but somehow is.”

You stared at him. Jihoon doesn’t usually hand out compliments, that’s something you learnt in the many years you’ve spent growing up with him and Soonyoung. But, when he does, though not straightforward, they carry weight. Subtle and rare – paired with his own natural talent and how he’s already made a name for himself as a producer – it means something.

Jihoon never says things just to be nice – never sugar coating or entertaining the idea of false praises.

And everyone in the entertainment industry knows it.

So if he thinks you’re a right fit, it’s not just flattery.

“...And the other half of this couple’s concept?”

He non-chalantly replies, “Mingyu.”

Your jaw drops. “Mingyu? As in Kim Mingyu? Pledis’ talented art major?”

“Giant. Heartthrob and walking cologne commercial?” Jihoon adds on before nodding, “The very same one. Let’s just say that Dior is looking for chemistry, some kind of beauty and the brain vibe.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Brains? Mingyu? I once saw this man run into a glass door.”

The young producer snorts back a laugh, clearing his throat while he pulls up the pitch deck for the shoot and showing it to you. “Hey, it could be the other way around. Point is, they think you and that giant could balance each other. Visually and energy-wise.”

You take a look at the pitch – mock-ups of the set, mood boards, wardrobe swatches.

Everything looked impossibly real.

“You interested?”

You glanced back at Jihoon, mind still processing the news. “Can Soonyoung come if I say yes?”

Jihoon laughs, reaching out to show you a separate screen. “He’s already trying to print name cards.”

The soft hum of the engine shifts as the plane starts to descend. Through the oval window, the clouds are scattered like pulled cotton, revealing a quilt of lights stitched into the city below. You lean your head against the frame, the glass cool against your skin.

“Soonyoung,” your voice was barely louder than the thrum beneath your seat, but you know he’s listening. “Do you think people assume I’m not that good of a person because I’m in this whole… modeling thing?”

You don’t look at him, but you feel the slight shift in his posture. You can tell he’s frowning just from his voice, “Is this because of the fall out you had with Haemin and the rest?”

You nod faintly, still watching the night view of the city from the plane.

“She said I’ve changed,” you reply. “That ever since I signed with the agency and gone freelance, I’ve been… different. Distant. That all I talk about besides my studies were castings or editorials.”

You pause, “She said I don’t like myself anymore.”

Soonyoung is quiet, but you can tell the new information upsets him. He knew about the fall-out you had with your friend group, but he never knew the exact reason until now. His jaw tightens – he always hates it when people put you down or your self-doubt gets the best of you.

You had potential.

He knows and sees it.

“If she can’t be happy that you’re making a name for yourself,” he starts, voice low but firm, “and she’s saying all these things to make her look like a better person… is she really a friend?”

The edge in his voice takes you by surprise..

“The same goes for the rest of them,” he adds. “They were so quick to side with Haemin without even hearing you out. That’s not what friends do, ___. You know that.”

You turn your head towards him slowly. You know he’s not angry, just tired of watching you carry guilt that was never yours to begin with.

“I don’t… I don’t think they meant to hurt me…” you murmur quietly.

Your cousin shakes his head, “No, but they did. And yea, maybe they didn’t mean to. But they chose to listen to just one side of the story. It was easier for them to pick a side than sitting in the middle, trying to understand the whole picture. That tells you what kind of person they are, ___.”

The plane dips again, wheels lowering beneath the roar of wind and drag. The seatbelt sign dings softly above as it lights up.

You slump into the chair a little, “It just… It just sucks,” you whisper. “To feel like I’m losing people just because I’m doing what I love or doing good in something I wasn’t expecting to.”

Soonyoung gives your knee a reassuring squeeze, his voice softer now. “You didn’t lose them, okay? They let go of you. There’s a difference.”

You don’t say anything. The runway lights rise to meet the plane, and the wheels touch down with a jolt – screeching, then slowing as gravity catches up. Soonyoung doesn’t take his eyes off you, not even as the cabin fills with sounds of buckles clicking, phones buzzing back to life and the polite announcements in two languages.

“You’re not a bad person, ___,” he says simply. “You’re just growing. And it’s okay if not everyone keeps up.”

DIOR: L’Instant à Deux

You barely have time to take in the studio before the director drags Soonyoung to the side to discuss the details of the shoot while a stylist guides you past racks of garments and light fixtures that hum softly. Heels click over concrete – the set smells like linen, coffee and something that you assume to be either jasmine or orange blossom.

It smells like there’s a small promise floating in the air.

“Hi, Kwon ___, right?” a staff member asks with a smile. She’s dressed in head-to-toe black, with a headset slung around her neck with a tiny Dior pin glinting on her collar.

“That’s me,” you respond with an equally warming smile.

“You’re early for call time,” she chuckles, flipping through the printed shoot-sheet in hand. “But, that’s a good thing! Gives us a little breathing room before we get started.”

“Yeah, our family has this whole ‘arrive earlier than stated’ in our blood,” you joked, fingers brushing your coat lapels while you try not to look as jittery as you feel. You glance over at the set – and it was breathtaking as hell.

Like the inside of a Parisian style apartment that’s been plucked from a property magazine. Ivory curtains billow in the breeze of a hidden fan, and there’s a table on the side that's been set for two, the candle just waiting to be lit.

Everything is so carefully curated, yet somehow there’s a romantic feel in its stillness.

“So, welcome to L’Instant à Deux, officially.” She gives you a brief wink before continuing, “The theme is modern intimacy. Not the ‘fire that burns the brightest also goes out the fastest’ kind. Think quiet moments between two people in love. The synergy and chemistry is just there. NO words are exchanged, but one look and you know exactly what the other needs.”

“Dior made it very clear that they want connection. Eye contact. A kind of vibe that makes people believe you’ve known each other for years.”

You hum in understanding, already understanding the picture she’s painting out.

“After this short briefing, they’ll start styling you for the first set. It’ll be a morning shot so you’ll be dressed in soft neutrals and satin, like you just woke up in love in the penthouse. Then we’ll transition to more tailored looks in the afternoon.”

“Any night shoots that need to be done?”

She raises an eyebrow, as though asking if you had any plans later that night. “Oh, I don’t have anything going on. Just curious if you guys planned some kind of ‘night in the romantic city’ kind of shoot.”

She thinks about it, “We didn’t… But, I like the sound of that. Let me ask the director and Mingyu’s manager if they’re up for the idea!” She then glances at her watch, “Oh, and yes, Mingyu’s already here. He’s being fitted right now, so you’ll see him on set soon enough.”

Your breath catches just slightly, but you try to play it cool. “He’s taller in person,” the staff casually adds as she walks away, grinning. “And hella charming. You’ll need a lot of luck surviving that.”

You laugh softly to yourself, staring down at the subtle embroidery on the hem of a dress that’s been draped over the rack.

‘Lots of luck indeed…’

“Talent on set!”

You’re ushered out of wardrobe as the soft thud of the shutter click is tested in the background. Your bare feet sink into the plush carpet of the set – a cozy, soft-sunlight bedroom scene complete with cream sheets, books scattered around, and a half-drunk (or at least it looked like someone drank it) glass of water sat on the nightstand.

Everything looked lived in.

Intimate.

Like a Sunday morning you never want to end.

Then you hear a low laugh.

You turn, and sitting on the edge of the bed was Kim Mingyu. The photographer probably said something funny with how he threw his head back. One hand loosely resting on his thigh, the other pushing his hair back in a way that’s so effortlessly charming that you aren’t sure if it was muscle memory or instinct.

As if sensing you, he looks up. And when his gaze meets yours, he stands.

“Hey, took you long enough,” he teases, walking over with a slow yet confident stride that only someone like him could do. “I was starting to think they paired me with a ghost and that this was an early Halloween shoot.”

You managed a smile, extending your hand. “Would’ve made your job easier, though.”

He chuckles, taking your hand in his to give it a shake. His palm feels warm, his grip firm – but not overbearing, or as though he was trying to size you up.

“Mingyu.”

“___.”

He repeats your name, like he’s trying it on for size. But the way each syllable rolls off his tongue feels almost too intimate for a first meeting, like he wants to memorise it.

“Alright, let’s get into position!” the photographer calls.

You’re guided towards the bed, the director explaining the scene as she walks with you. “It’s a gentle start. You just woke up, morning light, lazy touches, soft smiles… Like it’s the kind of love that has you falling even more, understood?”

You and the giant settle in under the covers, shoulders brushing as the makeup artist gives Mingyu’s look some final touch ups. He leans over to you and whispers, “Is this weird? Lying in bed together before we even had coffee?”

You laugh, the sound surprising even you with how natural it felt. “Maybe a little.”

His canines show as he grins, eye crinkling, “Well, guess we’ll just have to make it look like we’ve done this a hundred times.”

“And it’s a wrap!” the director calls out, voice tinged with exhaustion but pride. “Thank you everyone!”

You let out a quiet breath, somewhere between relief and exhaustion. Your cheeks still carry traces of highlighter, your body humming from hours of adjusting, holding and smiling.

“Here.” Mingyu holds out a bottle of water, already uncapped, like he somehow knew you wouldn’t have the energy to do it yourself.

“Thanks…”

Mingyu rolls his shoulders with a sigh, “Think my back is permanently imprinted with the Dior headboard.”

“I think your collarbone probably has its own Instagram account by now,” you joke.

He snorts, “Please, I’ve seen someone use mingyusleftasscheek as their username.”

You laugh again, but softer this time. It lingers in the air – comfortable and familiar.

“Heard from your cousin, well, manager; that this is your first big gig,” he starts, “You did really well today.”

“Thanks,” you reply, voice a little softer now. “So were you.”

He leans a little closer, like he’s about to whisper a secret. “I’m not gonna lie, I thought it’d be awkward. Like forced smiles, hands in weird places…”

You hum in agreement and he continues, “But with you, it didn’t feel that way.”

Your heart stutters, but not in a bad way. You look back towards the set where hours ago, you had to pretend to wake up in bed beside him, to fall in love in the busy streets and champagne toasts.

“Same,” you admit, eyes returning to him. “Didn’t feel too fake.”

“Guys,” one of the staff calls out, “Wrap up dinner, let’s go! Director said it’s on him!”

You and Mingyu chuckle. He stands first, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stand after him seconds later, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater Dior insisted you bring back as a souvenir. Part of you already misses the quiet bubble you’d been sitting in with him. He slings his jacket over one shoulder, eyes flicking to you with casual ease but it doesn’t hide the spark beneath it, “You coming?”

You nod, walking beside him as you both walk towards the rest of the crew.

gyu 🐶: heyyyy gyu 🐶: here’s my personal number ;)) gyu 🐶: i got yours from your manager gyu 🐶: hope you’re cool with it !! gyu 🐶: this is easier for less business talk gyu 🐶: and i kinda wanna talk to you more aside from gigs whatnot gyu 🐶: as in i wanna know you more as a person gyu 🐶: like genuinely

It’s strange when you think back to that first shoot you had with Mingyu.

You still remember how he looked like he was trying to memorise everything about you in one blink. How neither of you really knew each other, yet somehow managed to make it look like you’ve shared Sunday mornings for years.

That was a year ago.

Now?

Now, it’s nothing to see his name lighting up on your phone late one night because he found a ridiculous meme. Or for you to text him if he could be a subject for your practical.

The campaign ended, but a friendship began in its place.

So now, you’re here – pressed into the corner booth of an 80s themed diner with Mingyu sitting beside you, shoulders brushing yours every time he shifts his weight. Sitting across from you were two of his closest friends – Seungcheol and Vernon.

“Seungcheol’s hyung is the oldest of us, natural leader. He’s taken so if you’re thinking of hitting him up, may as well abandon ship. He’s crazy loyal for his pup.”

You raise a brow, “Pup? You call your girl ‘pup’?”

The blonde man shrugs with a grin, “It’s a nickname I gave her since we were kids. Kinda stuck and never left.”

You nod, “With that kind of context, lowkey cute.”

“Vernon, or Hansol, is the youngest. He’s either about to say something philosophical… or the most cursed shit you’ve ever heard. There is no in-between when it comes to this man.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his milkshake, “So this is the Dior Princess, huh? Mingyu talked about you a lot.”

After the campaign had gone viral, the internet was quick to dub the two of you Dior’s Prince and Princess. The nickname stuck and it didn’t help that the behind-the-scenes footage captured stolen glances and quiet laughter that fans clung to like gospel.

From the photos plastered on billboards, magazines; to fanedits that circled the web, it was clear that the chemistry between you two was almost impossible to ignore.

You glanced at Mingyu who takes a bite out of his fries like it’s suddenly the most fascinating he’e ever seen and tasted.

“He did, huh?”

Vernon snorts, “Not in a weird way. Mostly in an admirable way since he kept repeating how natural it felt. Which reminds me of the time he fell asleep mid-study and woke up reciting a skincare ad.”

Mingyu groans, “Please, stop reminding me of that.”

Halfway through eating your mac-n-cheese, Vernon pops another question, “Is Wonwoo not coming?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Midterms are coming up. He’s probably in the library going through his notes.”

The giant next to you snorts, “No joke. I called him earlier to ask if he’s coming. Bro picked up just to say, ‘I’m busy with midterms’ and hung up.”

“Wait,” you pause, glancing up when Seungcheol mentioned Wonwoo’s midterm prep like he’s mapping out a whole war strategy on the fire nation. “Is Wonwoo a psych major?”

A look of surprise crosses their face, “Yeah, he is. Why?”

You shrug casually, “Ah, then that means he’s prepping for the same midterm I have next week.”

Vernon leans forward, his curiosity piqued. “You’re in psych?”

You smiled, “Criminal psych to be specific.”

Mingyu’s head almost snapped with how quick he turned it, “Wait, seriously?"

“I know it’s not exactly a major people expect for someone who spends half their time in front of a camera, but–”

“Oh no, no, no,” Vernon intervenes, “It’s hella cool, actually. Fits you too.”

You blink, tilting your head to the side, “Fits me?”

“Yea. You observe, ask questions at the right time. You listen more than you talk that it makes people think you’re just nodding along.”

There’s a brief moment of silence.

“Well, Vernon, remind me to psychoanalyze you later. Strictly for academic purposes, of course.”

Vernon grins. “Can’t wait to be a case study or thesis paper.”

Seungcheol groans, “Don’t give her ideas of us being test subjects, please.”

“Too late!”

The campus library is unusually crowded for a weekday afternoon, almost every table claimed by open laptops, notes, and the quiet hum of caffeine-fueled panic. Finals week always brought the worst out of everyone.

You hold your drink in one hand, your laptop tucked under your arm as you scan the library for an empty table. A small corner table clears up for you, the students packing up their things and you quickly slip into it, relieved to finally be off your feet.

Then you see him.

Head down, headphones on, walking with that unreadable expression he always had, making it almost impossible to tell whether he’s in a good mood, a bad mood, or just deep in thought. He had a thick folder tucked under an arm, dressed plainly with his glasses perched on his nose bridge.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You don’t move – not because you don’t want to, but because you can’t.

You half expected him to recognise you or notice you – either because you shared some classes or because Mingyu had introduced you a few days ago when you were visiting their apartment.

But it never came.

He walks right past your table like you don’t exist.

No sneaking glances, no hesitation whether or not he should greet you.

Nothing.

And then you hear them.

Seated just a little further behind you was your old friend group – laughing and whispering. You can’t hear what they say, but the assumption has begun to build. Maybe Wonwoo did see you, but he’s been told to ignore you. Your fingers tighten around your cup and you glance down at your notes, trying to refocus; but your mind’s already spiraling.

They definitely said something. Maybe it wasn’t straight to the point, but it could be subtle – just enough to plant a seed of doubt.

“Don’t bother with her, she’s not who she makes herself out to be.”

“She’ll make you look bad.”

“She always plays the victim. Like she wasn’t the one who started everything.”

You exhale through your nose, trying to shake out the bad memories before then forcing yourself to flip through your midterm review.

‘If Wonwoo believed whatever he heard, that’s on him,’ you tell yourself.

But still.

Part of you was disappointed because you thought that maybe he’d known they’d be lying. He’s a psych major after all.

Then again, it was Wonwoo’s decision to believe what he wants.

You sat on the floor of Mingyu’s room, your knees pulled to your chest while he leaned against his bed, watching you with quiet concern. He passes you a bottle of water, “What’s bothering you, princess?”

You peeped at him, “Princess?”

He grins, his canines showing whenever he does. “Yeah. That’s what I’m calling you from now on, Princess.”

You give him a look, and he just chuckles, nudging the bottle closer to you. “Come one, you’ve been dubbed Dior’s Princess ever since that shoot with me.” Your lips curved slightly, but the weight in your chest didn’t lift completely and he noticed; his voice softening again, “So, what’s actually bothering you?”

“Wonwoo…” you murmured, fingers twisting the cap of the bottle. Mingyu’s expression flickered, but he didn't say anything. “He… I guess he was kinda nice when we first met..? But lately… He’s been distant… Sometimes he just walks by me like I wasn’t even there.”

You hesitated, then added quietly, “I… I think maybe he’s heard some gossip or rumours about and because of that, he’s not acknowledging me…”

Mingyu’s jaw clenches and for a brief second, he looks away. When he turns back, his eyes are a little darker – not of anger, but there’s definitely conflict in them. “Wonwoo isn’t the kind of guy to believe rumours blindly,” he finally says, voice low. “He’s careful, guarded. But not unfair. Plus, he’s a psych major; you of all people know psych majors don’t take words at face value.”

You stared at him.

He gives a small smile. “Plus, you said it yourself last time. If you want to know what’s going on, you’re gonna have to ask or talk to the person.”

You chewed your lip, still unsure. Mingyu continues, “Wonwoo is always rational. Sure, he malds over his games, but he won’t let some rumours cloud his judgment of a person.”

He leans in just slightly, a teasing grin on his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Unless you’d rather stay here with me instead.”

You blinked and he laughed, “I’m kidding, Princess. Well, kind of.”

“You’re impossible, Gyu…” you mutter, half-exasperated, half-flustered.

“Hey, I’m honest.”

And that was true.

You sighed and stood, nerves coiling in your stomach. “Okay. I’ll go talk to him.”

The Dior Prince doesn’t follow you, but you could feel the way his gaze lingered until you disappeared out his door.

You paced outside Wonwoo’s room longer than you should have, your nerves going haywire.

The door was cracked open just enough for you to hear the low murmur of his voice.

“...no, chat, I’m not going to get Princess back on stream just so you can be down bad for her. One, Coups would behead me and two, he’ll either ban you or put you in time out.”

You blinked.

Chat?

You pushed the door open just a little, just to peek a bit more – and sure enough, there he was. Seated comfortably in his gaming chair, headset on, the glow of the LED strip lights casting his room in a red hue. His voice sounded deeper; he sounded more focused, sarcastic, teasing.

It takes a minute for you to register.

Wonwoo was streaming.

Live.

You carefully stepped inside just as he leaned back slightly and stretched. You then noticed how massive his audience was when you saw the chaos flooding his vertical monitor. Then, his viewers noticed you in the frame.

uriboobear: no fucking way uriboobear: THE DIOR PRINCESS???? woozi_factory: gurl wtf are you doing there woozi_factory: are you banging him and the color blind model horanghae_kwon: wts horanghae_kwon: i feel so betrayed rn iamadino: what the fuck iamadino: dior princess sighting iamadino: #holyfuckingairball iamadino: SOMEONE CLIP QUICK 📎 cheolcoups clipped your stream! — Dior Princess Sighting [View Clip] hannieangel: thanks coups cheolcoups: np

Wonwoo froze, then very slowly turned to look over his shoulder.

Sure enough, you stood next to his door looking like an absolute deer-in-headlights. Your voice was soft, but the mic picked it up, “Hi…”

His chat exploded.

junmoonhui: BROOO I THOUGHT IT WAS AI junmoonhui: UR TELLING ME SHE’S REAL junmoonhui: AND IN HIS ROOM????? the1&only8: okay damn the1&only8: do yall live together or banging hannieangel: and the way he turned lmfaoooo hannieangel: also drop the game bro hannieangel: drop dead gorgeous just walked in like a cutscene

The streamer blinked, then quickly muted his mic and lifted his headset off. “Everything okay?” he asked, voice softer than the one his chat had been watching seconds ago. You nodded, awkwardly stepping in further. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were a streamer and going live. I wanted to talk to you about something but I– I can come back another–”

Wonwoo stood up immediately. “No. It’s okay, we can talk.”

And his chat went feral.

horanghae_kwon: holy shit horanghae_kwon: bro stood up so fast iamadino: that ain’t a friend stand up yall iamadino: that’s a mfcking lover stand up the1&only8: and they way he looked at her???? the1&only8: jun hold my hair im abt to throw up junmoonhui: you have a mullet hao the1&only8: sybau n play along

Wonwoo reached over and without hesitation – ended his stream. No sign-off. No raid.

Just black screen.

Silence followed after for a few seconds.

“You didn’t need to–”

“If you came here, ___, it means you came to talk to me about something.” He turns to look at you fully, “And I’m assuming it’s something important with how much you’re shaking.”

You awkwardly sat on the edge of his bed, fingers fidgeting in your lap. Wonwoo dropped his headset on the desk and pulled his gaming chair closer – close enough to talk, but far enough for the space to feel cautious.

“Why have you been treating me like I don’t exist?”

He doesn’t respond right away, but you notice the way his fingers flexed against the arm of the chair.

You take a breath, “I mean, I know we don’t know each other that well, but since we’re friends with Mingyu, I thought we’d at least… y’know… be somewhat friends too… But, you always just… treat me like I’m air and–”

“Whoa, easy there, ___,” he cuts in, “Why don’t you breathe in for me first?”

You blink, cough off guard by the interruption. His voice isn’t cold. If anything, it was calm and steady, like he’s trying to anchor you. You do as told and he scoots a little closer, “Good girl.”

“Now out.”

He waits, eyes not leaving yours. “Again.”

You follow, heart still pounding in your chest, but the air starts to flow a little easier.

Wonwoo sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re transparent. It’s clear I’m not great at this whole… social thing.” He glances over your shoulder, then back at you. “But, I do see you, ___. It’s hard to not notice you when you’re in my class while also being plastered all over magazines and editorials.”

His voice drops just a little, almost too soft to catch. “That’s the problem.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Mingyu,” he starts, leaning back with his hands loosely capped between his knees as he exhales. “There’s no easy way to sugar coat this so I’ll just come right out with it. Gyu and I… we’ve always shared the girls we’re ‘seeing’ or at least somewhat into. It could be some model chick he’s met, some girl we met at a bar or club… It was easy because things were always just physical between us. Nothing that stuck. No jealousy or complications.”

“What does that have anything to do with me? With why you’re–”

“It has everything to do with you, ___.” Wonwoo sighs, “Gyu’s been talking about you like you’re more than just another girl. Like he’s not just wanting to get up your skirt and make it a one time thing, y’know?”

You swallowed, “And you think that means I’m off-limits? Even if it’s a simple friendship?”

Wonwoo shrugged, “Things between Gyu and I… At least in a scenario like this where he looks at you like he means it, like it’s not just fun – like he’d actually stay. If he wants to be serious with you, I figured I need to respect it. That’s all.”

“But–”

“I’m sorry if my behaviour or actions made it seem like I’m ignoring you on purpose, ___. But, I promise I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I didn’t want to be in Gyu’s way of finally having an actual connection or relationship with someone. And since he wasn’t exactly subtle about his feelings with you, I shouldn’t be pretending to not notice it. So… I kept my distance.”

The quiet settled again.

You didn’t know what to say after that.

And neither did he.

The silence that settled between you wasn’t cold, but not exactly comfortable either. It was just there.

Until you asked, “Would you trust me if people told you rumours or gossip about me?”

“C’mon, ___,” he chuckles, “This is me we’re talking about. You really think I’ll believe the words of a stranger over a person’s actual personality?”

He’s got you there.

Then, he moved.

He leaned in, almost cautiously, like he didn’t know what he was doing either. And then, in a very uncharacteristic gentle manner, press a kiss to your forehead.

You both froze and the moment lingered; warm skin against skin, his breath brushing your hairline, and something unspoken seeping into the silence. When he finally pulled back, his expression was unreadable. You probably mirrored it.

“What… What was that..?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. As though he was still processing his actions.

“Just a habit of mine,” he replied.

Liar.

But you didn’t press, and neither of you said anything more about it.

When you stood to leave, your chest felt just a little tighter. Like something had settled into place, but neither of you had the words for it yet.

And when the door clicked shut behind you once you left, Wonwoo still stood there…. Thumb brushing across his lower lip.

Wondering why it felt right.

🎓Pledis Pressboard 📰

Where tea spills, news thrills & everyone’s in the loop! Student-run.

📌 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS & UPDATES

Club & Societies Fair moved to Next Weds, 3PM @ Main Quad

Prof. Hakyeon’s Thurs 9AM Lecture: Cancelled (Replacement Class to be Announced Soon)

Lost Airpods in Stitch Casing in Library! Approach Lost & Found to claim.

🧠 NEED TO KNOW

Next Sem Schedule Drop: 7th Jul 20XX

New study area opened in East Wing – fully air-conditioned too!

👀 GOSSIP BOARD

💬 anon: anybody else noticed the Dior Princess on Wonwoo’s stream? Are the banging eo or like, it’s a three-way thing between him & the roommate?

anon1: nah like i wanna know too anon1: also did yall see the way he looked at her? anon2: bffr he looked so in love anon3: frrrrr anon3: like damn, i wished someone looked at me like that too anon2: if she banging them both anon2: she hit the jackpot frfr anon4: nah anon2 anon4: if she’s dating them both anon4: that’s the jackpot

🎓Pledis Pressboard 📰

Where tea spills, news thrills & everyone’s in the loop! Student-run.

📌 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS & UPDATES

Pledis Fall Party @ NU’EST

Hey boys and girls + non-binary peeps! To celebrate the start of the new fall semester, NU’EST has announced that everyone is invited to their upcoming frat party!

📍 Venue: NU’EST Frat House (right behind North Quad)

📆 Date & Time: This Friday, 8PM till late

🪩 Theme: 70s Disco

🍻 Live DJ sets, drink specials, real food & surprise performances. Come for the drinks, stay for the vibes. You might leave with a few numbers or with someone. wink-wonk.

📮 This party is an open invite, all students are welcomed! (Queer friendly, no cover, no drama!)

Got questions? Hit up @renminki.NU or check the pinned IG post on @HouseOfNu

Let’s make it a night you won’t ever forget… or only half remember 😉

The party was loud.

Lights dim and pulsing, music vibrating through the floor and through your ribs; clusters of people scattered across the living room and onto the balcony. Voices rose and fell like waves of static in your ears, laughter echoed – and somewhere in the house, someone was already tipsy enough to dance on a coffee table (yes, it was Soonyoung).

These kinds of parties were never your cup of tea. Contrary to popular belief, you were a homebody – you preferred the comfort and quietness of your studio compared to the thrum of bass-heavy music and bodies pressed up against each other in a sweaty, alcohol-fueled haze.

But Jihoon had insisted that it would be a ‘low-pressure’ thing, that he’d stick by your side the entire night (until Joshua or Jisoo swooped in and took him off to discuss something about an upcoming Open Mic). Soonyoung had also texted you five separate times the second the announcement rolled out.

tiger couz 🐯: pleaseee tiger couz 🐯: just come hang with us tiger couz 🐯: it’ll be fun! tiger couz 🐯: just drinks n dancing tiger couz 🐯: no drama, promise

You didn’t have much of a choice since they both self-invited themselves into your place hours before the party, and your cousin practically shoved you into a pink glittery mini dress with flared sleeves and matching headband.

They meant well. They always have, even when you were kids. Which is what you love about the two dorks even though there were times you’d want to strangle them for their dumb ideas.

The hours were closing in to 10PM, and so far you were fine.

Until you saw him.

Wonwoo.

He’s leaning against the balcony railing, drink in hand, dressed in all black, expression unreadable… then his eyes found yours. And just from his gaze alone, your stomach dropped because you knew something was wrong.

He pushed off the railing and strode towards you, each step purposeful. His mouth was set in a firm line, eyes locked on yours. “Can I talk to you?”

Your heart rate picked up, but you nodded.

Wonwoo leads you to an empty guest room, door slightly ajar behind you – the room was still dim, still loud; but it was removed just enough that his words could be heard.

“I ran into someone earlier,” he starts, voice low, almost careful – but still tight. “Her name was Haemin. Said she used to be a friend of yours.”

Your breath caught and you stared at him, frozen.

“She… She said you aren’t who you make yourself out to be. That you ruined someone’s reputation, twisted the story to turn everyone against her and–”

“Do you believe them?”

“I didn’t want to,” he said. “I still don’t. But the way she said in such a confident manner, how you seemed on edge whenever someone said they’ve heard things about you… It made me wonder…”

He trailed off.

Your throat closed. “You… You think I’m playing the victim?”

His expression cracked just a fraction. “I don’t want to believe that, ___. But, I need you to help me understand all this–”

“You think I haven’t tried that, Wonwoo?” you snapped, voice rising before it cracked. “You have no idea what it felt like. To lose everyone. To have your name turned into a warning. To try and clear my name, but nobody would listen. And now, you’re asking me if I was the villain because of some hearsay?”

You hate how you’re being interrogated like you were in the wrong. You’ve tried to prove those rumours wrong, but nobody was willing to listen. Whenever you tried to explain, all you got were dismissive;

“It’s true, though… You’re a model…”

“You’re a psych major. Who’s to say you’re not psyching us?”

He blinked.

Then it hit you – the tears threatening behind your eyes, the voices blurring and the walls of the room slowly tilting.

It was all too much.

“I need to go,” you whispered, already turning.

“Wait–”

But you were already walking.

You pushed through the crowd, heart hammering and no seeing faces, just shapes and shadows. You weren’t sure if you were angry, scared or just done with the feeling of always having to defend yourself. You barely made it past the hallway when a hand caught your wrist, their grip firm but gentle.

“Hey.”

Mingyu.

You turned.

He looked worried, conflicted even. “You okay?” he asked gently, “Did Wonwoo say something to you?”

You blink fast to clear your vision, “Gyu, not now–”

You want to brush it off, to escape, but then the giant puppy steps closer. “I saw him kiss your forehead the other night.”

You froze.

Mingyu’s hand dropped slowly from your wrist, like he’d just realised how much you were shaking. He continued, his voice steady despite the conflicted undertone. “Wonwoo… Look, I’ve known him for years and he doesn’t do that. Ever. Not with anyone. Not unless it means something.”

You swallowed thickly, “Mingyu, now isn’t–”

He shakes his head, “No, please, ___, just hear me out. I’ve known him for years and I know that was far from casual. And… And I see the way he looks at you. Even if he’s too scared to admit it, I know he felt something.”

Your eyes were wide when you looked up at him.

“And I did too.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“I’m not saying this to make things harder, but I need you to know that I like you. I have for a while now. A-And I can’t keep pretending that I don’t have these feelings for you. If Wonwoo is too much of a pussy to face his feelings, I’m not.”

The words hit harder than they should have. Your thoughts start to spin like they’d all slammed into each other at once – maybe because the room felt too small. Maybe because you were already on the edge.

You blinked rapidly, the sting behind your eyes too much to swallow.

The party around you was getting too loud. Too bright.

Soonyoung and Jihoon were nowhere in sight.

Wonwoo’s confrontation.

Mingyu’s confession.

“I… I can’t,” you choked out. “I need to go…”

You stepped back and before Mingyu could say another word, you slipped past him; away from the noise, from the crowd – away from both of them.

The shared apartment was strangely silent, save for the soft hum for the air conditioners and the occasional clink of the ice melting in the glass beside him.

He’s sat at his desk, not streaming, editing, gaming and not even trying to be productive. His fingers hovered over the keyboard without purpose, his monitor dimming on its own as if recognising the stillness.

He wasn’t sure when these feelings had started.

It wasn’t at the party, that much he was sure of.

How could he when you looked like that under the strobing lights? The way your voice cracked when you asked if he thought that you were the villain. Not even when the sting of guilt clung to him as he watched you walk away.

No, it had to be way before that.

Maybe it was the first time you challenged him in class – voice soft, but your mind was most definitely sharp; sometimes making or asking statements that would make even the professor pause.

Maybe it was the time you fell asleep on the couch without realising it, laptop open, playlist still playing with one of your reports halfway done.

Or maybe it was the night you brought hot tea to Mingyu after he got sick after finals and casually handed him a cup too, telling him, “Don’t think I don’t know you were doing that sub-a-thon thing.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes, drawing in a slow breath as he let his head fall against the headrest. He hadn’t realised he’d already started falling until it hurt to watch her walk away. This wasn’t your average crush that’s all fire and flash; it crept in quietly. Almost gentle.

This crush of his was something that’s always been there and it wasn’t until the weight of what if sat heavier than anything than they’d both said.

And maybe that’s why it sat like a stone on his chest.

Wonwoo isn’t someone who did feelings out loud. He doesn’t wear them on his sleeves, and doesn't spill them into crowded rooms.

He lets out a slow breath, finally moving his eyes away from the dark monitor, his gaze landing on his bed where he had pressed a kiss to your forehead weeks ago. You weren’t there, but the echo of your presence lingered in the air.

In the space he hadn’t realised he’s carved out.

Maybe he had been falling for you for a while – he just didn’t know how to land without breaking.

Wonwoo’s door swung open, though he didn’t turn around to look at the person who had the audacity to barge into his personal space.

He didn’t need to.

“What do you need, Mingyu?” He sighed.

Mingyu’s voice was flat, cutting – it was out of his character unless he’s pissed. “You talked to her. At the party.”

“So?”

“You asked her about her past, didn’t you?” He scoffs before continuing, “I thought you were better than this, hyung. You of all people know that you shouldn’t judge a person based on rumours or gossip. So, why the fuck were you–”

Wonwoo stood from his chair, the calm gone from his expression as he turned to look at the model. “Kim Mingyu, don’t come in here and like you’re some kind of moral compass.”

“Don’t fucking lecture me about crossing lines when you confessed to her and basically outed my feelings in the same breath.”

Mingyu frowns, “I didn’t out anything.”

“Really? You told her I kissed her like it meant something.”

“It did and you know it. You don’t just show affection or care like that to anyone, Woo.”

Silence.

“You used what I did, what I wasn’t ready to talk about; you still outed me. You don’t think that’ll push her further away?”

Mingyu blinked, the accusation finally sinking in – and it sank deeper than he expected. “I’m not trying to use it against you. I didn’t even mean to out you in a way that–”

“But you still did,” Wonwoo’s voice was quieter now. “Maybe not on purpose, but it still happened.”

The model looked away.

“You said yourself, Gyu,” the streamer muttered, “That kind of affection from me is rare.”

Mingyu’s voice softened, “Because I know how hard it is for you to show it, hyung.”

After a beat, he speaks again. “Maybe that’s why she ran… Because if it really meant something to you, to her – then you questioning her is basically saying it means nothing.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes, shoulder tense. And for the first time, his voice cracked just a bit. “The look she gave me… When I asked her about her past, when I asked her if the rumours were true… She looked at me like she was bracing herself for the world to fall apart again.”

Neither of them spoke after that.

They didn’t have to. Didn’t need to.

Because for once, they both understood one thing:

They were both falling.

And so was she.

DA BOIS 🍻

cheol: so uh cheol: anybody gonna tell me wtf is going on with woo n gyu cheol: cuz why the hell do yall look like you’re one wrong breath away cheol: from tearing out each other’s throat alien-non: girl problems tallgyu: how the fuck do you know that cheol: if you’re this pissy then it’s true cheol: jihoon mentioned his friend’s been shutting herself in for days with no contact cheol: that your girl? gameboi: that should be her gameboi: and hansol’s right gameboi: it’s a girl problem cheol: so basically cheol: us joking abt you two liking the same girl has manifested into an actual thing cheol: holy fuck alien-non: have you talked to her? gameboi: she’s ghosting everyone tallgyu: i asked her cousin tallgyu: said it’s smtg normal for her n she’ll come find us if she wants to talk cheol: so you’re giving her space rn gameboi: yea alien-non: cool alien-non: good luck tho cheol: and prayers cheol: yall defo gonna need it

Time’s passed by in a haze for you.

You hadn’t answered any messages.

Not Soonyoung’s, “You doing alright?”

Not Jihoon’s, “You alive bitch?”

You didn’t eat much, either – your appetite probably on a wanted post somewhere downtown.

You wanted to cry, but the tears never came. It just stayed stuck behind your eyes, heaving and aching. You had put your phone on DND before throwing it onto the coffee table, now it’s probably buried underneath the mass amounts of junk food and books.

Your studio was silent and you were about to resume whatever pity party that was going on until the lock clicked.

You froze, a blanket draped over your legs while you sat on the couch, wearing the same hoodie you’d cry into four nights ago. Familiar footsteps fill your studio – soft and confident that it announces who your visitors were.

“Couz, you still alive in here?”

You don’t move.

Seconds later, Jihoon’s head poked into the living room, followed by Soonyoung who was carrying a large takeout bag.

You cringed at how hoarse your voice sounded when you whispered, “You used the spare key.”

Jihoon shrugs, “You gave it to us.”

“In case of emergencies.”

Soonyoung snorts, “And you ghosting everyone, probably not eating properly for days isn’t an emergency? You went off the grid, ___.”

Jihoon sat next to you, “We got worried. Last time you went off the grid, you actually went mia for like, three months?”

“I’m fine,” you tried to assure them, but your voice cracked on the last word. Soonyoung sets the takeout bag on your kitchen counter. “Yea, sure. And I’m Jihoon’s assistant producer.”

The breath you huffed out might’ve been a laugh had it not felt like someone has a tight grip on your throat.

Jihoon doesn’t say anything – if anything, he’s just like Wonwoo, but just a little more expressive than the tall streamer. He rests an arm on the back of the couch and looks at you to make sure you weren’t going to lie to him.

“We’ve known you for years, ___,” he starts quietly. “Talk to us.”

“I messed everything up,” you murmured.

“No,” the blonde next to you was quick to interject, “You’re just a human with feelings.

Soonyoung walks up with a bottle of water in hand. “You always carry shit that’s not even your fault. You think the people who care about you won’t do anything about it, but we’ve always got your back.”

You took the bottle with shaking hands, pressing it to your lips as you downed at least half of it to distract yourself from the way your throat tightened as you’re reminded about how your cousin and childhood friend always got your back.

“Even if you shut down or disappear for a bit, we’re still going to show up.”

“You don’t need to explain everything right now,” Soonyoung adds. “Just let us stay the night and keep you company. You’re not alone, yea? You have us!”

For the first time in days, you felt relieved.

You nodded.

Without uttering another word, Jihoon reached over and tucked you into his side while Soonyoung reached for your remote, selecting a random movie like tonight was any other movie night.

Soonyoung cooked you a bowl of ramen, laying out the fried chicken and kimbap he had brought over onto the coffee table; even promising he won’t judge if you cried into it again.

Jihoon sat next to the furniture, poking through your neglected phone to clear the notifications that’s been piling up from the days you hadn’t touched it.

You slurped a bite in silence before speaking.

“He confessed.”

Soonyoung blinked, pausing his movements of taking a piece of kimbap. “Jihoon?”

Jihoon smacks his shoulder, “No, you idiot.”

“Mingyu,” you clarified, staring down at the bowl of ramen soup in your hands. “He… He came up to me at the party and said he liked me.”

Soonyoung’s jaw dropped, the kimbap half-chewed in his mouth and Jihoon had to shut it for him.

“He said… He said he saw Wonwoo kiss my forehead that night. Said he knew it meant something because Wonwoo doesn’t just… do things like that. Not with anyone and… Mingyu said there has to be something going on between us.”

Jihoon’s brows lifted just a little, “What did you say?”

“I… I didn’t say anything. I just left.”

Soonyoung winced, “Yikes. Must’ve hit him hard.”

You shrugged as Jihoon took the bowl of soup away from you. “I dunno… Wonwoo… Wonwoo came to talk to me before Mingyu confessed. He…” Your voice dropped, “He asked if the rumours were true…”

“The one Haemin started?” Jihoon asked slowly.

You nodded again. “I… Someone from that group must’ve talked to him and it definitely messed with his head. He wasn’t like… I don’t know, extremely mad about it, just… He just looked like he didn’t know who he was looking at anymore. Was he looking at the real me or a front I put up?”

Soonyoung reaches out a hand to hold yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He didn’t believe them, right?”

“I think part of him didn’t want to believe it. Or… he was scared that it could be true. That I was a manipulator, a –”

“You aren’t.” Jihoon’s voice was stern. “That bitch twisted things. That’s a manipulator, ___. You? You’ve always been honest. Haemin is always bitter when people are doing better than her so she’ll always find ways to tear them down. That’s her game.”

“She always shuts you down whenever you mention a new gig, telling you to stop rubbing it in everyone’s faces. I didn’t want to say anything back then because she was your friend, but it always pisses me off.”

You notice the way his jaw clenched, fingers curling into a fist on his lap. “You were proud. You should’ve been – it was one hell of an achievement for you. And this bitch made you feel like you were bragging just for existing.”

“Yea, like, I know how much you value those around you, and that’s a good trait of yours. But Haemin is always putting you down because she thinks she’s better than you. You were excited about something good happening in your life, that’s human – not annoying. She just couldn’t stand not being the center of attention.”

A silence settled for a moment. It was heavy, but not hopeless.

Jihoon’s gaze softened when he looked over. “You’ve been second-guessing yourself all this while because of her. And now she’s got him second-guessing you, too.”

“It’s not your problem if she doesn't like people seeing you shine,” Soonyoung adds. “That’s hers.”

You didn’t really plan what else to do once you got here – in front of Wonwoo and Mingyu’s shared apartment.

Sure, you planned to finally talk to them, but you hadn’t planned the rest. Your heart hammered against your chest like it was trying to crawl out. Your hands were covered by your sleeves, fingers twisting the fabric in a nervous rhythm as a grounding method.

Where the hell do you even begin?

Do you apologise for dropping off the grid? Acknowledge Mingyu’s confession?

Or do you explain yourself to Wonwoo?

The silence stretched in the doorway and you swore it was somehow louder than last week’s party.

You stared at the doorbell like it might explode if you touched it.

Just press it. Say something. Breathe.

Ding-Dong.

Silence.

One second. Two. Three–

Nope nope nope.

You went into full-blown panic.

You can’t do this.

You look like you haven’t slept in a week. You hadn’t even planned what to say.

What if they hated you? What if Wonwoo regretted ever holding any affection towards you? What if Mingyu had changed his mind? What if–

Your feet moved before your brain could reason otherwise. You spun on your heel, fully intent on getting the hell out of there before the door could open. Maybe they could pretend it was a mistake. Wrong floor. Wrong unit. A ghost.

You were probably two steps away from the door when–

“Were you seriously going to ding-dong-ditch us?”

You froze.

Mingyu’s voice sounded half amused, half exasperated.

You turned around slowly, cheeks flushed when you found them both at the doorway.

Mingyu had one hand on the doorframe, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Wonwoo leaned casually against the other side, arms folded and his lips pressed in a faint line.

You gave the weakest shrug known to mankind. “I… I was testing the doorbell..?”

Mingyu blinks. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You disappeared for a week,” Wonwoo adds, his voice low but not angry. “And your comeback strategy was ding-dong-run? Really, Princess?”

The pet name caused your breath to hitch.

“I… I panicked…” you muttered.

Mingyu snorts, “Clearly.”

He steps aside, “Come on in before you sprint back to whatever blanket cave Jihoon said you’ve been rotting in the past week.”

You step closer, chewing on your bottom lip. “Are… you mad?”

“Mad?” Wonwoo responded in a way that you’ve just asked the most ridiculous question. “We were worried, ___. That’s not the same thing.”

The living room felt warmer than the last time you were here. Not in temperature, but it felt like the air carried more weight to it. You sat on the couch, legs pressed together, hands locked in your lap. The fabric of your sleeves are twisted between your fingers, Mingyu sat across you on the floor, back resting against the coffee table.

Wonwoo sat next to you on the couch. There’s some distance between you, but it was to test the waters whether you’d allow him back into your personal space; his elbows resting on his knees.

The silence was thick, but it wasn’t hostile.

Just… there.

You shifted again, pulling your sleeves over your knuckles.

“So… Where do you wanna start?”

You tried to speak. Failed. Tried Again.

“I… I…”

Wonwoo scoots closer, one hand reaching out to give your thigh a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Princess. Take your time.”

Mingyu nods, giving you a faint, reassuring smile. “We’re not gonna poof into thin air, y’know?”

You nodded.

You took a breath.

Then another.

And finally:

“Haemin tried to break up a couple back in Pre-U.”

Mingyu blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Back in Pre-U, there was this guy called Hyungwon and she kept flirting with him despite knowing that he was taken. And when I told her that was a low move, even for her, she got pissed. Said I had no right to judge her when I’d done the same, if not worse. Which I hadn’t.”

Your voice trembled as you continued, “So she twisted the story. Said I was the one trying to break them up. That I told her I could have anyone I wanted because I was a model and guys would drop their girlfriends for me.”

Mingyu’s jaw dropped slightly, stunned into silence while his brows creased like he couldn’t decide whether to be shocked or furious. You barely notice the moment when Wonwoo shifts, only realising how close he’d gotten when his fingers gently curled around your wrist and tugged you closer.

You don’t resist.

The streamer maneuvered to sit across his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arms steadily wrapped around your body, grounding you as your pulse pounded in your ears. You don’t know if it was the warmth of his body or the way they listened to you explain your story. Regardless, your chest felt lighter and you continued.

“She used the fact that people were starting to pay attention to me, and everyone believed her because she said it with a smile. Nobody bothered to ask for my side. They just stopped texting. Stopped talking. They whispered every time I walked into the room.”

The words linger in the air, but your chest felt… lighter. Like you’d finally let something out that’s been weighing you down for years.

Mingyu hasn’t moved, his eyes locked on your form while trying to decipher every emotion on your face; like he was trying to figure out if he could somehow carry the hurt for you. Wonwoo’s arms stayed wrapped around you, it wasn’t tight but it was steady.

Mingyu finally spoke, his voice hoarse and eyebrows pulled together. “Nobody should’ve made you feel like that. Least of all people who were supposed to be your friends.”

“I just… I thought if I just stayed quiet long enough, maybe… maybe it’d all go away.”

“You don’t need to stay quiet anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was low as he tilted your chin so you’d look at him. “You’ve been carrying all this by yourself. I didn’t make it any better by questioning you.”

Your breath hitches when your eyes meet. “It’s okay, Wonu… You were just trying to understand…”

He raises a hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Fuck,” Mingyu muttered, catching your attention. “I-I’m sorry, Princess. I… I can’t believe I confessed to you when you clearly weren’t in the headspace. I-I just–”

Wonwoo’s arms loosened slightly, not pulling away but to make room so you could adjust yourself. You turned to Mingyu, “It’s okay, Gyu. You… You don’t have to take it back.”

He looks surprised by your words.

You swallowed, “I… I don’t know. It’s just… I’m scared… I feel something for both of you. That… That’s terrifying to me because–”

“You think it isn’t for us?” Mingyu cuts in.

Wonwoo shoots the model a look and he’s quick to shut up, muttering a quiet apology. “It’s just… This is way too fucking insane, even more me. Literally two dudes sitting in the same room with a girl they’ve both fallen in love with and figuring things out.”

Wonwoo’s voice was low and careful when he added, “We also don’t expect you to choose.”

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” you whispered, looking up at Wonwoo before your gaze drifts to Mingyu.

“Well,” Wonwoo says with a shrug that was way too casual. “Polygamy is a thing.”

You and Mingyu blink, caught completely off guard by his words. “What?”

The elder’s gaze doesn’t waver, mouth twitching at the corners like he knew exactly what he was doing. “I’m just saying. I’m into her. You’re into her. Clearly she’s overwhelmed by the idea of choosing when the idea of losing either of us will wreck her. ”

Mingyu stared at him, “Hyung, you’re not ser–”

“I am. You know I don’t joke about the things I want, Gyu.” He tilts his head, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder with you still nestled on his lap. “Like I said, polygamy exists. When done right – with proper communication, consent, and nobody being left in the dark; it’s possible.”

The room was filled with tension, but it wasn’t demanding. You looked between them both, “Is this… Is this something you two want?”

“I’d rather share than walk away, ___.” Wonwoo presses a gentle kiss to the column of your throat, sucking in a sharp breath when you let out a whimper.

Mingyu lets out a breath. “Same here…”

You swallowed, “And… And if you asked me what I want..?”

The streamer hums while the model leaned forward, both asking in unison, “What do you want, Princess?”

Your answer was quiet.

“I want you both…”

tiger couz 🐯: yo tiger couz 🐯: new job offer alert tiger couz 🐯: ok technically not a job offer prettay couz 🎀: wassup tiger couz 🐯: rmb that Dior couple campaign from a year ago? tiger couz 🐯: the one you did with Gyu? prettay couz 🎀: yea prettay couz 🎀: what abt it? tiger couz 🐯: they wanna do some kind of appreciation dinner for everyone involved prettay couz 🎀: a dinner? prettay couz 🎀: why a year after it tho? prettay couz 🎀: seems kinda prettay couz 🎀: idk, off-timing? tiger couz 🐯: the success rlly impressed them tiger couz 🐯: and their investors tiger couz 🐯: hence dinner tiger couz 🐯: we’ll talk deets once jihoon gets back from that Open Mic

“Good girl,” Wonwoo praises, his voice a calm purr as he takes your phone out of your trembling hand. “Good job in replying to your cousin properly while Gyu eats your pretty pussy.”

You’re seated on his lap, back pressed tight against chest, his clothed cock hard beneath you. HIs free arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady while Mingyu keeps his tongue buried in your soaked cunt. His large hands kept your thighs spread while groaning like he’s starving and you’re the only thing he’s allowed to eat.

Your head lolls back onto Wonwoo’s shoulder, lips parted in a loud moan as Mingyu sucks your clit harshly. Your thighs twitch in response, hips bucking forward, but Wonwoo holds you still. “W-Wait..! Hngh!”

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re so sensitive here, Princess. Has nobody ever eaten you out?”

You shake your head, voice barely audible over the wet sounds between your legs. “N-No.. Hngh!”

The streamer chuckles low against your ear, hands sliding underneath your sweater to teasingly pinch your nipples. “Poor thing,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Mingyu’s good at eating pussy. He’ll take care of you.”

Mingyu lets out a growl, hands digging into your thighs as he tongue fucks you deeper, nose bumping against your clit. The lewd sounds of him eating you out fill the room, wet and messy; mixed with your whimpers and the quiet rasp of Wonwoo’s breath against your ear.

You feel more arousal drip out your pussy when he tugs on your nipples. “Hear that, Princess? That’s the sound of a pretty pussy being eaten well.” Then, he gives your clit a spank, causing you to yelp and arch in surprise, the sudden sting sparking through the heat bubbling in your core.

“Better cum soon, ___. Gyu’s not stopping until he’s had enough, and I’m not letting you go until you soak his face.”

Wonwoo turns your face towards his, fingers tilting your chin up. “You’re doing so good for us,” he murmurs, eyes dark and hooded. “Let me kiss you, Princess.”

You can barely manage a nod before his lips are on yours – hot, slow… His tongue slides against yours, stealing your breath as he swallows every needy noise you make. The kiss quickly deepens, getting messier and dizzying.

Mingyu groans between your legs, the sight of you moaning into Wonwoo’s mouth has his cock throbbing in his jeans. He flattens his tongue against your clit and drags it in tight circles, causing you to break from the kiss and your hips twitching.

“G-Gyu! Hngh!”

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum all over his face.”

Your body obeys, thighs closing in around Mingyu’s head as your orgasm crashes into you. A loud cry rips from your throat, swallowed by Wonwoo’s lips as he kisses you through your climax.

Mingyu continues to lap at your pussy, even when your body’s still trembling from the aftershocks. If anything, he gets hungrier – like he could die in between your thighs and still beg for more. His tongue stays locked on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes you jolt – sliding two fingers into your soaked cunt, curling right against your g-spot.

“G-Gyu,” you whimper, trying to squirm away from the relentless pressure.

But, you can’t move.

Wonwoo wraps an arm around you like a cage, while the other slides up. His fingers brush along your throat before tightening with just enough pressure that makes your breath catch.

“Stay still,” Wonwoo orders, his breath warm against your cheek. “Let him play with your pretty pussy a bit longer.”

You gasp, eyes fluttering open to meet his. That’s when you see it.

There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes as his lips curled into a wicked grin at your reaction. He notices the way your thighs clamp tighter, how your head tilts back.

“Oh?” Fuck, he sounds so hot. “You like that, Princess?”

Your cheeks burn, but you don’t deny it. You’ve always known Wonwoo was the dominant type – maybe it’s the way he carries himself, but what you didn’t know was that he’s kinky too.

And God help you, you’re so into it.

Mingyu groans against your pussy, clearly enjoying both your reactions. He scissors his fingers inside you, bullying your g-spot in a way that has your back arching and breath stuttering. His tongue flicks over your clit in tight, rhythmic strokes, matching the pace of his fingers thrusting into you.

“Wo-Wonu,” you gasp, voice breaking. “I… I’m gonna..!”

Wonwoo tightens the grip he has on your throat, angling your face to look up at him again. “Yea? Gonna cum over his tongue while Gyu eats your sweet cunt? Go on then. Show him just how good he’s making you feel.”

And your body obeys.

Your walls clenched violently around Mingyu’s fingers while your entire body tenses. Letting out a loud cry, liquid gushes out from your pussy, spraying over his face and chin.

That doesn’t stop him, though.

He’s absolutely pussydrunk. His tongue greedily laps through your release like it’s the only thing he’d drink up. His fingers don’t falter either, working you through every tremor and drawing out your high until your legs shake and your moans turn into helpless whimpers.

Wonwoo leans down, kissing the corner of your mouth, hand still snug around your throat. “Such a good girl… Now, the real fun begins.”

Very gently, he guides you off his lap. You’re still trying to catch your breath but you let him maneuver you onto all fours, the cold air hitting your pussy and you could feel how sticky your thighs were – soaked from squirting thanks to Mingyu’s tongue.

You don’t have enough time to balance yourself because you feel the cushions dip in front of you, Wonwoo having one hand wrapped around the base of his long cock. It was thick and the tip was flushed red, already leaking pre-cum from watching you get pleasured by Mingyu earlier.

“Open up for me,” he instructs, tapping the tip against your lips.

You do as you’re told and he slides in slowly, head thrown back as he lets out a low groan at the way your warm mouth wraps around him. “Fuck, yeah,” he breaths, tangling one hand in your hair and starts to guide you lower. “Let me see how much of this dick you can take.”

Your lips stretch around his girth, eyes fluttering shut as the weight of his dick lays on your tongue. He starts to shallowly thrust, letting you adjust before going deeper.

“Shit, Princess,” he groans, hips rolling forward as he watches your cheeks hollow around him. “Look so fucking hot with mouth full of my cock, pussy still dripping… S’like you were made for this.”

Behind you, Mingyu trails kisses along your spine, his hands roaming your body, thumbs digging into the softness of your flesh. You feel him line his cock up against your soaked folds, tip nudging at your entrance.

“Squirted all over my face and you're still this wet for me?" he teases, dragging the leaking cockhead through folds, giving your sensitive clit a few taps. “Think you can fit my whole cock in, Princess?”

You whine around Wonwoo’s cock and the elder just smirks, “Oh, don’t whine like that. We know you can take it. You’re our good girl, aren’t you?”

Mingyu slowly pushes in, grunting at how your walls clenches and unclenches rhythmically around his length. Your thighs quiver, mouth still full of Wonwoo’s cock, and your eyes tear up as you try to breathe through it.

“Fuuuuck,” the model behind you groans, bottoming out inside your heat. “So fucking tight.”

The streamer above you lets out a dark laugh, shallowly thrusting into your mouth again. “Yeah? Never had a cock as big as Gyu’s inside your little pussy, Princess?”

No, you haven’t.

The burn of the stretch has your toes curling, but it fades into pleasure once Mingyu starts thrusting. The pace he sets is deep and hard, making your hips rock back into him instinctively to feel more of the pleasure. Your mouth goes slack around Wonwoo’s cock for a moment and he notices.

He moves his free hand to cup your face, “You alright, Kitten?”

“S-Shit,” Mingyu stutters. “She just got tighter.”

You managed a muffled moan, nodding as your tongue presses against the underside of his cock.

Then, he begins to move in sync with Mingyu – thrusting forward just as the model pulls back. You can tell they’ve done this multiple times, not just from the stories they tell, but how they match each other’s pacing.

“Greedy Kitten,” Wonwoo mutters, his eyes glued to your face. “Taking two cocks at once. What would the media say when they find out, hm? That their pretty little Dior Princess is nothing but a cock hungry whore.”

You choke on a moan, the pleasure coiling in your belly hot and fast.

Mingyu tightens his grip on your hips, snapping his against yours in a rougher pace. “Shit, she’s trembling. Gonna cum again, Princess?”

You sob around Wonwoo’s cock, tears sliding down your cheeks as you try to hold yourself up between them. Every thrust rocks your body forward – Wonwoo fucking your throat slow and deep, Mingyu rutting into your soaked pussy like he never wants to pull out.

Mingyu’s calloused hand slides around your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs and finding your swollen clit. Your entire body jolts like a live wire when he starts to rub it in tight circles.

“Mmh!” your voice is muffled around Wonwoo’s cock, hips bucking back against Mingyu’s. “Fuck, you’re twitching,” he pants, still rutting into your soaked cunt while his fingers work your clit relentlessly.

Wonwoo grunts, fisting your hair gently so he could pull back just enough to let you breathe, eyes focused on the flushed, glassy-eyed face. “Go on, Princess,” he coaxes, voice thick with arousal. “Cum for us. Let us see just how much you love it when we wreck you.”

Your body seizes as you’re pushed to the edge, the orgasm crashing into you harder than the previous ones. Your cries are muffled by Wonwoo’s cock, spit glistening on your lips as your vision blur and your cunt clenches violently around Mingyu’s cock.

Mingyu’s hips stutter as the way you clamp down around him, more slick gushing down your thighs. “Holy fuck– Shit, you’re milking me so good, Kitten.” The lewd squelching of his dick pistoning in and out of your dripping pussy echoes through the room. His fingers never leave your clit – if anything, he presses against it harder and rubs faster.

Wonwoo’s pace quickens too, hips snapping into your mouth with more urgency. You hollow your cheeks, moaning around his thick length, the vibrations pushing him closer to his own climax. He tightens the grip he has on your hair, “Just like that. Sweet mouth of yours is gonna make me cum down this pretty throat soon.”

A few more thrusts and the streamers spills his hot cum down your throat with a strained groan. His release floods over your tongue, thick and hot; and you try your best to swallow it all. “God damn,” he pants, pulling back slowly to watch the way a string of cum and saliva cling to your lips. “That’s the best fucking head I ever got.”

Before you could respond, Mingyu slams his cock deep into your pussy with a loud roar of your name, hot spurts of cum filling your needy hole to the brim and leaking out around where he’s still buried. Your fourth orgasm tears through you without warning, cunt twitching around his cock as he starts to grind into you.

Mingyu presses his forehead against your shoulder, his breaths coming out in heavy pants. “Fuck… You’ve got the best pussy ever, Princess.”

Your body’s still trembling, barely recovering from the last orgasm when Wonwoo gently shifts your limp form. He slides his hand beneath you to lift and reposition your body with ease. “You did so well, Princess,” he coos, laying you on your back before spreading your legs. His gaze drops to your pussy – dripping with Mingyu’s cum and clenching like you want more. 

You do.

He kneels between your thighs, cock glistening with your spit as he slowly gets hard again.

“Will you let me fuck you, Princess?” he asks. Your breath hitches at his question. After wrecking you just moments ago, he’s still asking you if he has your consent to continue. The tenderness beneath his dominance catches you off guard, and God, you’d be lying if it didn’t make your heart stutter and just a tad bit hornier.

“Please, Wonu…”

He lets out a guttural moan, rubbing his cockhead against your slick folds, letting it catch on your swollen clit before nudging it down your entrance. The tease alone has you moaning, body trembling with anticipation of being stretched and filled by him.

“My Princess is so polite,” he chuckles, pressing the tip in slowly. “Asking me to fill her needy pussy so sweetly.”

He pushes in slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock while he loses himself in the way your walls flutter around him. “Fuck you’re still so wet,” he chuckles. You mewl, back arching as he sinks deeper into your sensitive cunt until he fully bottoms out. Some of Mingyu’s cum drips out of your stuffed pussy, staining the couch cushions below.

“Messy little thing.”

Your legs weakly, but instinctively wrap themselves around his waist the moment he starts thrusting, mouth falling open in a breathless moan. “Wonu… Feel s’full…”

He groans, hands tightening the grip they had on your hip. “And you… Feel. So. Fucking. Perfect.”

Each word is punctuated with a hard thrust.

“Can’t wait to creampie this messy cunt, Princess.”

He speeds up, the sound of your sopping pussy growing louder, wetter, filthier with every thrust. You cling to him, grabbing at his shoulders as you feel your orgasm creep up on you again. Your body is overstimulated, but you can’t bring yourself to care – not when two hot men are stuffing you full.

Wonwoo doesn’t warn you that he’s cumming. Instead, he leans into your neck and buries himself to the hilt before warm, thick spurts of cum flood your pussy once again. He stays buried inside you for a few seconds, wanting to keep every drop of his release stuffed inside you. Your walls flutter weakly around his length, body trembling and brain clouded in an overstimulated heat.

But he’s not done.

He pulls away from your neck and straightens his back. You feel his hands roam your body, like he’s trying to ground you – until he presses his palm firmly on your lower belly, right where you feel the thick fullness of him pressing against your womb.

“W-Wonu–!” you gasp, body jolting as the pressure sends a sharp wave of pleasure straight to your core. Your pussy clamps down around his cock, like you were trying to milk more of his delicious cum.

The streamer grins wolfishly, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles on the soft swell of your lower belly before pushing down just enough to feel his cock pressing back up into you. “Can you feel me here, Princess?”

You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body feels like you’re on cloud nine, hazy with pleasure and overstimulation.

Beside you, Mingyu groans – one hand wrapped tight around his cock, fisting it hard as Wonwoo toys with your fucked-out body. His eyes are glued to the way your belly bulges from both his and the elder’s cum, how you whimper whenever he presses down.

“Shit,” he breathes, stroking himself faster. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Wonwoo looks over to the model, still stimulating you from your belly, his grin never fading. “You just gonna stand there and jerk off? Put that mouth of hers to work, Gyu.”

You’re still dazed but you listen to Wonwoo, turning your head and parting your lips, tongue flicking out as Mingyu steps closer; cock flushed and slick in his hand. He groans when you take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down further. Meanwhile, Wonwoo doesn’t stop pressing down on your belly, marvelling in the way your body twitches as you choke around the model’s dick.

The sight was sinful as hell.

Pussy stuffed and dripping, your mouth doing its best to give Mingyu a blowjob and the very act of your submission setting every one of his nerves on fire.

“Oh shit,” Wonwoo curses, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Atta girl. Our Kitten is so messy, but still so eager. ”

Your eyes are watery, cheeks flushed as your throat works around his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat with each roll of his hips. One hand is tangled in your hair, setting a rhythm while grunts of approval and pleasure fall from his lips, eyes fixed on the way your swollen lips are wrapped around him.

Wonwoo’s cock is nestled perfectly against your g-spot, your pussy full and warm with both men’s cum. His hand continues to apply a steady pressure over your womb, already growing addicted to the way his cock pushes up just slightly inside you every time he pushes down.

He can’t help but let out a low laugh as he watches your thighs tremble, your hips twitching involuntarily as he continues his ministrations. “Look at her, Gyu. Our Princess is so sensitive. Every time I press here, she squirms.”

Mingyu groans, gaze flicking down to your lower belly. “Such a perfect Princess for us,” he pants, his thrusts growing a little rougher.

Your body jolts again when Wonwoo’s fingers find your overstimulated clit with ease, rubbing it in quick, insistent circles while simultaneously pressing down on your lower belly. Your thighs kick out, hands clutching the cushion beneath you.

“Gonna squirt for us again, Kitten?”

You try to answer, but you can’t – not when your mouth is full of Mingyu’s thick dick. Not that it matters anyway because Wonwoo applies more pressure to your lower belly, rubbing your clit faster.

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. You sob around Mingyu’s cock as a fresh gush of liquid soaks Wonwoo’s thighs and the cushion beneath you. Your body convulses, mouth going slack as your cunt clenches uncontrollably around Wonwoo’s still-hard length.

“F-Fuck–” Wonwoo growls, hips jerking forward at the milking compression of your pussy. The fluttering spasms of your walls trigger his own orgasm, his cock twitching before pumping another load of hot semen into your already stuffed cunt. “Take it, Princess. Fucking taking my cum in your greedy pussy.”

The sight of you squirting and being creamed by Wonwoo was enough to tip Mingyu right over the edge, too. With a low, choked moan, he pushes his cock into your throat one last time and spills his load into your mouth, groaning as the way your throat flexes around his length with every spurt of his release.

Moments later, Mingyu carefully pulls out from your mouth, hand slipping from your hair to cradle your jaw, wiping the mess from your lips with his thumb. “Can’t believe you all of that, Princess…”

Wonwoo stays inside your pussy just a little longer, basking in the aftershocks before he too pulls out, eyes never leaving the sight of his cum leaking out from your fluttering, overstimulated hole.

The room is quiet now, save for the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional rustle of fabric as they both slowly calmed down from their highs. 

You’re still sprawled across the couch, body limp and trembling, the air of the room thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Shit, if you didn’t look sinful before this, you definitely do now – cheeks flushed, lips swollen and thighs slick with cum.

Wonwoo moves first, arms wrapping around your torso to gently pull you into his chest. His hands gliding up your sides in soothing motions, peppering kisses across your face as you melt into him. “You okay, Princess?” he murmurs against your hair, “Hope your body isn’t too sore.”

You let out a broken laugh, “Umm… I might be limping for a few days.”

Mingyu chuckles, returning from the bathroom with a damp towel and kneels between your legs. His hands are careful as he starts to wipe between your thighs, murmuring soft apologies against the skin every time you twitch and flinch.

“You made such a mess,” he says affectionately. “And you look so pretty when you cum, too.”

You hum in response, too hazy to think of a proper answer, but your fingers find his wrist and give it a gentle squeeze. Once he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and settles beside you and Wonwoo on the couch. The streamer adjusts your sweater to cover your upper body, gently brushing away the sweat-matted hair of your forehead.

“Do you need anything? Water? Some sweets?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself melt further into his arms. Mingyu reaches a hand out and gives your thigh a squeeze, “You were incredible, Kitten. Took everything we gave you.”

“Didn’t know you could squirt like that, too,” Wonwoo adds, smirking against your skin.

“Shut up…” you mumble, cheeks heating up.

They both laugh, low and warm.

Neither of you move for a long while, their soft touches making your heart swell despite the dull ache you feel.

🎓Pledis Pressboard 📰

Where tea spills, news thrills & everyone’s in the loop! Student-run.

👀 GOSSIP BOARD

💬 anon: anyone else noticing wonwoo n mingyu following the Dior Princess lately?

anon1: omg i thought i was the only one anon1: it’s not even the creepy or friends kind yk anon2: omg is my three-ship finally sailing???? anon3: bro wtf anon3: they’re dating the same girl??? anon3: not to yack their yum but like??? anon2: @anon3 bro it’s 20XX anon2: poly relationships are a thing anon4: real anon4: and if it bothers you then idk anon4: sounds more of a you problem than their problem tbh

Wonwoo wasn’t in a rush.

His next class was across the quad, warm sunlight filtering through the trees as students filed past. He’d been in a good mood, mind trailing back to the way you smiled at him that morning – wearing Mingyu’s hoodie, half-asleep and kissing his jaw like it was second nature.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” someone said behind him.

He stopped.

Turned.

There they were – the same girls from the party weeks ago. The ones that had cornered him and smiled while spouting poison in his face. He recognised the one in the middle – Haemin, and she was smiling far too bright for his liking.

“We heard a rumour,” she said, strolling up and standing next to him like they were friends. “You and Mingyu… dating her..?”

He doesn’t answer.

Another girl giggled. “Didn’t think you’d fall into her trap. Guess she is good at what she does.”

The third girl added, “I know they say psychology students try to fix people, but didn’t think you’d double down on the whole ‘damaged girl’ fantasy.”

“You remember what we told you, right? It’s just that… Well, we thought after what we told you, you migh’ve… y’know, figured out she’s what she seems. She’s a manipulator, Wonwoo. We’d hate to see you and Mingyu get hurt over someone like her.”

Still, he doesn’t say anything, but he watches them – staring at them like he was waiting for them to finish their script.

Haemin leans in, “She always finds her way into guys’ beds. She plays innocent but she’s only ever good at spreading her legs. She’s a model, after all – kinda comes with the package.”

The silence that followed stretched like a taut wire. Wonwoo’s expression didn’t twist, his eyes remained unreadable. Hell, he didn’t even look angry. He took a step forward, the slight shift in his posture made all three girls tense.

“Y’know,” he began, voice low and calm. “I find it funny how loud people get when they think they got away with something, thinking the truth will never get out.”

Haemin’s smiles faltered.

“You may have gotten away with pinning things on ___, but did you really think the consequences of your actions in the past wouldn’t come back to bite you?”

The other girls stiffened.

Wonwoo leans down, just enough to mutter, “What would happen if word got out you were the one that was trying to break up Hyungwon and girlfriend back then?”

Her eyes widened.

“___ was nice enough to not fight back, to let you paint her as the villain. You used her face and her reputation to twist the narrative. And when people believed you, you doubled down. Why? Perhaps it’s because that was easier than admitting you were bitter, petty and jealous.”

“She told you that?” Haemin scoffs, crossing her arms as a means of defense. “God, she has you wrapped around her finger worse than I thought.”

Wonwoo shrugs, “I have no shame in admitting I’m whipped for my Princess. You, on the other hand? You’re so used to controlling the narrative that you forget some people don’t buy into this kind of gossip that should be left in high school.”

His jaw tightened. “You know what sets you and ___ apart? After all these years, not once has she tried to make anyone look bad. Not once has she spoken about you the way you speak about her, and that tells me a lot of who she is as a person.”

They instinctively took a step back as he took another step forward. Wonwoo didn’t raise his voice, didn’t cause a scene, but the air around him was terrifying in a sense that the calmness made people feel unsafe.

“I honestly don’t give a shit about what you think of her, and I sure as hell don’t give a fuck how many people you’ve fooled with the stories you’re spreading. But, I do care when someone insults her. Once again, she’s my girlfriend and you don’t get to talk about her like that.”

He looked at each of them in turn.

“And if I ever hear you speak of her name like that again, I promise you that you will regret it.”

Haemin looked like she wanted to scoff. Wanted to claim back some control. But the way Wonwoo stared down at her, like his gaze alone could tear her apart, kept her silent. He took one final glance at them and walked away without another word.

When he steps out of the hallway and onto the stone paths, the cool air greets him first – crisp and damp with the scent of earth and moss. Then, his phone buzzed with a message from you.

🎀 princess 👑: i miss you :(

The glow from the TV flickers across the living room, casting shadows over bowls of half-eaten popcorn, a forgotten beer can and the three of you tangled on the couch. You’re sat between the men, legs stretched across Mingyu’s thighs while your head rests against Wonwoo’s shoulders, his fingers idly playing with your hair.

Mingyu’s feet were propped up on the coffee table, occasionally popping popcorn into your mouth while his free hand lazily rested on your shin. A horror movie was playing on the screen, courtesy of Mingyu, who was far too invested in it for someone who claims to hate jump scares.

However, there’s been a question itching at the back of your mind all evening. Mingyu had casually mentioned seeing Wonwoo with them near the main campus earlier that day. At the time, you sort of just hummed and dismissed it, changing the subject; but now, hours later, it still bothered you.

You lifted your head slightly, voice soft. “Wonu?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the movie. “Hm?”

“Gyu said he saw you talking to Haemin earlier.”

The silence that follows cut sharper than the violins on the soundtrack.

Mingyu goes still next to you and Wonwoo shifts beneath you, pausing the movie with a quiet tap of the remote. He turns his head towards you, his expression calm and steady, but his eyes are focused on you.

“Are you mad?” he asks, voice soft.

You sat a bit straighter, “I’m… I’m not mad, promise. I just… I just…”

He hooks two fingers underneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “Hey, hey… Look at me, Princess. They came up to me on my way to class. Said they heard rumours that we’re in a poly relationship, tried to get underneath my skin.”

Your lips stretched into a thin line, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “And… you entertained them?”

He shrugs, “Honestly, I didn’t really care much about what they said. That is, until she said something that crossed the line.”

“What did she say?”

Wonwoo hesitated, his jaw flexing slightly. “She said you always found your way into guys’ beds. That you were only ever good at spreading your legs because you’re a model.”

Mingyu stiffened beside you, “Fuck’s sake…”

Your stomach dropped, the blood in your face drained. “She really said that?”

Wonwoo nodded, “She did. And I snapped.”

You blinked.

“Told her that I knew what she did in Pre-U. Well, at least I pretended to look like I knew what happened. Also told her that if she ever talks about my girlfriend like that again, they’ll regret it.”

The room was quiet again, but it wasn’t the heavy kind this time.

You exhaled, your breath a little shaken. Then you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You didn’t have to do that…” The streamer almost purrs at the feel of your lips against his skin, “I’m not about to let some petty bitches think they have the right to talk down on or to you. Nor am I gonna let them rewrite your worth just because they’re bitter.” 

Mingyu leans over, pecking your cheek. “You’re not alone anymore, ___. You have us, and we’ll defend you through hell and back.”

You chuckle softly, “You two wanna protect me that badly, huh?”

The model snorts, “Obviously. You’re our Princess.”

Wonwoo ruffles your hair, laughing when you swat at his hand. “So let us, yea? End of discussion.”

The three of you relax once again – Mingyu unpausing the movie and Wonwoo shifting close so you’d all be cuddled closer. Fake screams fill the room again, but Gods, your heart felt so safe.

So loved.

taglist !!

@syluslittlecrows @itaewonsquad97 @gyuhao365 @prettypeachprincesz @babycaratdeul @chloe856112 @minhui896

[wonuwonder]

for later too lolol

[honeyhaeya]

Sucker For You

Jeon Wonwoo x F!Reader

genre / tags: smut, romance, humor, slice of life, wonwoo x reader, college au, slow burn to fast burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, cockwarming, gamer wonwoo, subtle dominance, light degradation, reader insert, cute dynamics, playful teasing, soft/dom wonwoo, loser!wonwoo x popular!reader. warnings: explicit sexual content (18+; MDNI), light degradation (terms like "slut" used in consensual play), semi-public encounter (storage room smut scene), cockwarming while gaming, swearing, mention of overstimulation and rough sex, mutual pining, unprotected sex (wrap that boner !). smut warnings: detailed explicit content (penetration, oral, cockwarming), rough sex in semi-public and private settings, use of pet names and light degradation, safe, consensual sexual activity between characters, descriptions of body reactions and sensations. wc: 8,793 (porn with little plot) a/n: to my beloved @kpoppiesofinternet , thank you for giving me the idea. seventeen taglist: @archivistworld <33 Preview: Wonwoo never thought he’d end up here, in his dimly lit apartment, with you perched on his lap, his gaming chair squeaking softly beneath the weight of both your bodies. The glow from his monitor illuminated your face as your cheek rested against his shoulder, your warm breath fanning over his neck. “You’re really good at this,” you murmured, voice laced with awe as his fingers danced skillfully across the keyboard. His lips quirked upward. “I told you, I’m not always a loser.” The way his cock twitched inside you at the sound of your soft, teasing laugh almost had him losing his grip on the game. The warmth of your body around him made every movement sharper, every second harder to concentrate. “Wonwoo, how do you even focus like this?” you whispered, your tone edged with playful disbelief as you clenched around him. His hand stuttered over the mouse for the briefest moment, a hiss escaping his lips. “You’re going to make me lose,” he muttered, jaw tightening. “You said you wouldn’t,” you shot back smugly, your hands sliding up his chest as your thighs flexed around his. “Be quiet, or I’ll make you regret it,” he growled softly, the mic on his headset still live.

Wonwoo stood awkwardly near the corner of the elevator, clutching his phone like it was his lifeline. He didn't even know why he was here—okay, he knew why. Mingyu asked him to get his stuff, but fate decided to test him today.

You. Running toward the elevator, hair bouncing lightly with each step, the pleated skirt swaying just enough to make his brain short-circuit. And that smile you threw him when he awkwardly reached out to hold the elevator door? That should've been illegal. You looked like a dream—pink blouse, effortless charm, and some sort of aura that made every neuron in his head shut down.

Now, he was trapped. Trapped in the best kind of torture.

You stood just a few feet away, scrolling through your phone, seemingly unaware of the chaos you were causing in his head. The sweet scent of your perfume filled the elevator, wrapping around him like a vice. It wasn't overpowering—no, it was subtle, delicate, but absolutely maddening. Wonwoo inhaled slowly, trying not to make it obvious that he preferred your perfume over oxygen right now.

What was he supposed to do? Say something? Compliment you? Laugh at some imaginary joke and hope you joined in?

Instead, he stood there, silent, practically glued to the wall like the loser he was. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the elevator mirror and winced. His hair was slightly messy from running around earlier, his hoodie slightly wrinkled. Meanwhile, you looked like you had stepped out of a movie scene.

The elevator dinged, signaling someone's floor, and Wonwoo almost panicked, realizing it was his. He took a step forward but froze. Should he say goodbye? No, that was weird. Should he—

"Wonwoo, right?"

Your voice broke through his internal monologue, and he turned so fast he almost sprained his neck. You were looking right at him, smiling that same radiant smile, and he swore he might pass out.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered, cursing himself for the crack in his voice.

You tilted your head, eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. "You were at the festival earlier, right? I think I saw you near the game booths."

Oh. My. God. You noticed him?

"I... uh, yeah. I was just... helping out. Nothing big," he managed, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"That's cool," you said, the elevator dinging again. The doors opened, and you stepped out, turning to face him briefly. "See you around, Wonwoo."

The doors closed before he could respond, leaving him standing there, wide-eyed, as your scent lingered in the elevator.

"See you around?" he whispered to himself, the tiniest, stupidest grin forming on his lips.

God, he really needed to get his act together. But maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a complete disaster.

Wonwoo didn't know what was worse: the fact that he forgot why he was on this floor in the first place or the fact that you had just casually walked out of nowhere and into his life with the audacity to smile at him like that. Like you knew exactly how your charm was working on him.

He'd stepped out of the elevator to grab Mingyu's bag—it was lying near the corner of the hallway like someone had abandoned it—and then bam, there you were. The sound of your voice, light and teasing, stopped him in his tracks before he even realized it.

"Hey, Wonwoo!" you chirped, juggling a camera, a bouquet of flowers, and a handful of props. How you managed to look so effortlessly composed while holding so much stuff was beyond him. "Did you get lost or something?"

Lost? Yeah, definitely. But not in the way you were implying.

"I... no, I'm just grabbing Mingyu's stuff," he said, his voice a little too quiet, a little too awkward. He shifted on his feet, trying not to meet your eyes for too long because if he did, he might just melt into the floor.

Your grin widened. God, why were you so unfair? "Of course, Mingyu. I see you with him all the time. You two are pretty close, huh?"

Wonwoo blinked. Oh. That was why you noticed him. Mingyu. Of course. Who wouldn't notice Mingyu? Tall, confident, handsome Mingyu, who had a way of commanding attention without even trying. Compared to him, Wonwoo might as well have been a ghost.

He nodded stiffly, biting back the disappointment tugging at his chest. "Yeah, we're friends."

You hummed, a soft, melodic sound that made his stomach twist in knots. As the two of you started walking toward the elevator, you adjusted the camera in your hands, your fingers brushing against the petals of the flowers you carried. "The festival's been fun, huh? I've been running around so much, but I'm definitely going to check out the game booths later. You're helping out there, right?"

Wonwoo felt his heart skip a beat. You knew that he was helping out? You knew something about him that wasn't tied to Mingyu? His brain scrambled to process it, and for a moment, he just stared at you like an idiot before managing a weak, "Y-Yeah, I'll be there."

You smiled again—this time softer, sweeter—and stepped into the elevator with him. The small space felt a little too intimate, your perfume lingering in the air again, and Wonwoo swore the temperature rose by a hundred degrees.

The ride down was quiet at first, save for the soft hum of the elevator. Wonwoo clutched Mingyu's bag tightly, his knuckles white as he tried to act normal. But it was impossible when you were standing right there, so close, your presence making it hard to think straight.

As the elevator dinged, signaling the ground floor, you turned to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "See you at the game booths, Wonwoo," you said, stepping out before he could even think of a response.

He stared after you, rooted to the spot as the elevator doors closed again. His reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself, adjusting his grip on the bag. But even as he walked toward the festival grounds, his heart raced at the thought of seeing you again. Maybe, just maybe, being a loser around you wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Wonwoo was pretty sure he was about to have a heart attack.

Your booth was the most popular one in the festival—of course, it was. The crowd seemed drawn to you like moths to a flame, and why wouldn't they be? You stood at the center, effortlessly charming, laughing, and engaging with everyone who passed by. You were magnetic, the kind of person people gravitated toward without even realizing it.

But for Wonwoo, it wasn't just your charm that had him spiraling—it was you. The way your hair caught the light, the way your voice carried over the noise, the way your smile lit up the entire space. And now, thanks to Mingyu's insistence, he was walking straight into the lion's den.

"Come on, Wonwoo. Don't be weird," Mingyu had teased, dragging him toward your booth. "She's cool. You're cool. Just... be normal for once around her."

Normal? Wonwoo felt like he was about to combust.

When the two of them finally reached your booth, you were busy helping another group of students, but the second your eyes lifted, they landed on him. Not Mingyu. Not the crowd. Him.

Wonwoo swore time slowed down for a moment. Was he imagining it? The slight glint of recognition in your gaze? The tiny smile that tugged at the corners of your lips? He couldn't help the way his heart stuttered in his chest.

"Wonwoo! Mingyu!" you called, stepping closer to the front of the stall, holding a bunch of roses in your hands. You looked so natural, so perfect, standing there surrounded by flowers and festival decorations. "You guys finally made it!"

He wanted to respond, maybe say something clever or funny, but his brain had completely shut down. All he could do was nod stiffly, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, while Mingyu carried the conversation like the social butterfly he was.

But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of handing the roses to Mingyu—like Wonwoo had braced himself for—you turned directly to him.

"These are for you," you said softly, holding out three perfectly bloomed roses.

Wonwoo froze, his eyes flicking between the roses and your face like he couldn't believe what was happening. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out to take them, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment.

He thought that would be the end of it, but then you grabbed a Polaroid camera from the table and grinned up at him. "Come here. Let's take a picture."

"A—A picture?" His voice cracked, and he could feel Mingyu silently laughing at him, but he didn't care. His entire world had narrowed to just you and that camera in your hands.

Before he could process what was happening, you grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, positioning him just beside you. The proximity was almost too much—your perfume, the warmth of your hand on his arm, the way you were so effortlessly close.

"Smile!" you said cheerfully, leaning slightly toward him as you held up the camera.

Wonwoo tried. He really did. But the second the camera clicked, all he could feel was the way his breath hitched, his heart racing as if it wanted to escape his chest.

When you handed him the freshly printed Polaroid, your smile softened. "A little keepsake," you said, like it was the most normal thing in the world to turn him into a blushing mess.

Wonwoo stared at the picture in his hands, the image of the two of you together making his chest tighten. You looked radiant, as always, while he... well, he looked like someone who was trying desperately not to pass out.

"Thanks," he managed to mumble, clutching the photo and the roses like they were the most precious things he'd ever owned.

As Mingyu dragged him away a few moments later, laughing about how he'd looked like a deer in headlights, Wonwoo couldn't stop glancing at the picture.

Maybe he was a loser. Maybe he didn't have a chance. But for a brief moment, it felt like he was the luckiest guy in the world.

Wonwoo froze in his tracks, the sound of your voice ringing in his ears like the opening notes of his favorite song. He wasn't even sure why he stopped—it wasn't like he hadn't heard you talk before. But this time, there was something different. Something that pulled him in before he could even process it.

And then the words hit him.

"I thought Wonwoo was like the type who would be dominant."

He blinked. His brain short-circuited. What?

You said his name. You were talking about him. And not just in a passing, "Oh, that guy in my class" kind of way. This was... something else.

Wonwoo wanted to walk away. He really did. He wasn't the type to eavesdrop, especially on something so clearly private. But his feet refused to move, like they were rooted to the spot. His heart was beating so loudly he was sure you could hear it from where you were.

"So? You're like, obsessed with the guy. Ask him out already."

That voice—your friend's, probably—snapped him out of his trance. But only for a second, because then the full weight of the sentence hit him like a truck.

Obsessed?

No. No way. There was no way you—the girl who practically lit up every room you walked into, the girl he could barely string two words together around—liked him. That was impossible. He must've misheard.

"Yeah, but, what if he doesn't like me?" Your voice was quieter now, a little unsure. "He sounds... well, I guess, uncomfy around me?"

Wonwoo's heart sank. Uncomfortable? No, that wasn't right. That wasn't even close. If anything, you made him feel so many things that his brain just shut down when you were near. He regretted every awkward pause, every stuttered word, every time he'd avoided your gaze because he thought it'd be too obvious how much he liked you.

"I dunno," your friend replied casually. "Better find out."

Wonwoo barely had time to process those words before he heard footsteps—yours and your friend's—approaching. His body went into panic mode, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he forced himself to move, walking a little faster and trying not to look like a total weirdo.

But his mind? It was chaos.

You liked him.

Or at least, that's what it sounded like. But could he trust what he'd overheard? What if he'd misunderstood? What if it was some kind of cruel joke?

And yet, as he made his way down the hallway, heart pounding in his chest, one thought drowned out all the others:

I need to talk to her.

Wonwoo didn't know how he ended up back at the festival booth with Mingyu. His legs had carried him here automatically, but his mind? His mind was still replaying your words on a loop.

"What if he doesn't like me?" "He sounds... uncomfy around me."

The guilt was eating him alive. Was that what he'd made you feel? Uncomfortable? Because if you knew how many times he'd stayed up at night thinking about you, if you knew how much he wanted to talk to you but just couldn't seem to get his stupid, nervous self together, you'd know it wasn't you. It was him.

"Dude, you okay?" Mingyu's voice cut through his thoughts like a slap to the face.

Wonwoo blinked, realizing he'd been gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were white. He quickly loosened his hold, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Mingyu squinted, suspicious. "You look like you've just seen a ghost. Or maybe you've finally realized how insanely hot Y/N is. Honestly, about time—"

"I don't need your commentary, Mingyu," Wonwoo muttered, his cheeks turning crimson at the mention of your name. He couldn't deal with Mingyu's teasing right now, not when his heart was already doing acrobatics.

"Alright, alright," Mingyu said with a laugh, throwing his hands up in surrender. "But if you're crushing on her—"

"Mingyu, stop."

Unfortunately, Mingyu didn't stop. If anything, the grin on his face widened. "Look, Y/N's literally over there. If you have something to say, just go say it. You're so tense, it's giving me secondhand stress."

Wonwoo followed Mingyu's gaze, and sure enough, there you were, standing by your booth, chatting with a group of students. You looked... radiant. Even in the middle of a crowded, noisy festival, you stood out like a beacon, your smile brighter than all the string lights strung across the campus.

And then, like fate—or maybe just the universe playing tricks on him—you turned your head. Your eyes locked onto his.

Wonwoo froze.

You didn't. Instead, you smiled. That same smile that made him forget how to breathe. And to his absolute horror, you started walking toward him.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

"Hey, Wonwoo!" Your voice was warm, light, the same voice that had just a few minutes ago said... those things.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay rooted to the spot even though every instinct screamed at him to bolt. "H-Hey," he stammered, cursing himself for the way his voice cracked.

You tilted your head, holding a clipboard in one hand. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Wonwoo blinked. "A favor?"

"Yeah." You stepped closer, and he swore he could smell your perfume again—the same scent that had completely ruined him in the elevator earlier. "I need someone to help me carry some of the booth supplies to the storage room after the festival. You seem pretty strong. Think you could help me out?"

Strong? Him? Wonwoo felt like he was going to combust.

"Uh, yeah," he managed to say, though it came out more like a squeak. "Sure. I can do that."

Your smile widened, and if he thought his heart couldn't race any faster, he was wrong. "Great! You're the best, Wonwoo."

The best? Him? He wanted to laugh—bitterly, nervously, something—but he didn't. Instead, he just nodded like a fool, watching as you handed him the clipboard.

"I'll come find you when it's time, okay?" you said, your tone so casual, so sweet, like this was no big deal. Like you didn't even realize what you were doing to him.

And then you were gone, back to your booth, leaving Wonwoo standing there clutching the clipboard like it was a lifeline.

"Dude," Mingyu said, clapping him on the back. "You're so in. Don't mess this up."

Wonwoo didn't reply. How could he, when his brain was still screaming one thing over and over?

You liked him. You really liked him.

And now, he had to figure out how to not be a complete loser long enough to tell you he liked you too.

The moment you pulled Wonwoo into the storage room, he swore his brain short-circuited. It was just the two of you in this small, dimly lit space, surrounded by forgotten boxes and leftover props from past festivals. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

"Alright," you said, scanning the shelves for something. "I just need to find these last few things, and we're done."

But he was done. Done for. The way you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the subtle sway of your body as you moved—it all felt so deliberate, so... seductive. His eyes trailed down your frame without meaning to, lingering on your pleated skirt and the soft curve of your waist.

"It's getting kinda hot in here, don't you think, Wonwoo?"

The sound of his name rolling off your lips—soft, teasing, and just a little too intentional—sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't know if the heat you mentioned was literal or if you'd turned the temperature in the room up just by existing.

"Uh... yeah," he stammered, tugging at his collar like some kind of cliché. God, pull yourself together.

You turned to look at him, that same damn smile on your lips, and stepped closer, the soft click of your shoes on the floor echoing in the quiet room. "You've been awfully quiet, you know. I was starting to think you didn't want to help me after all."

"N-no, I—" He choked on his words as you closed the distance, your eyes locking onto his.

"You know," you said, tilting your head, "I kind of like this side of you. Quiet. Nervous. It's... cute."

Wonwoo's brain went haywire. Cute? Did you just call him cute?

Before he could even process that, you reached up, your fingers brushing against the side of his face as you adjusted his glasses. "But you don't always have to be so shy, you know. I wouldn't bite. Unless..."

His breath hitched as your voice dropped to a whisper. "You want me to."

And that was it. The last thread of his self-control snapped.

In a move that shocked even himself, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

"You think I'm shy?" he asked, his voice low, surprising even himself with the confidence that came out of nowhere.

Your eyes widened slightly, but the smirk that followed was enough to make his knees weak. "Aren't you?"

"Not right now," he murmured, and before he could lose his nerve, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all pent-up desire and raw, messy emotion.

You froze for a split second before melting into him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you kissed him back, matching his intensity.

It was everything Wonwoo had dreamed about during countless sleepless nights, and yet, it was so much more. The way your lips moved against his, the quiet little sound you made in the back of your throat, the way your body pressed against his like you were made to fit together—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Somewhere in the haze of it all, your back hit the shelf, and a box toppled to the floor with a loud thud, but neither of you cared.

"Wonwoo," you gasped against his lips, your voice breathy and filled with something that made him shiver. "I—"

He didn't let you finish, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands roaming up and down your sides, trying to memorize every curve and dip of your body.

"God, you're driving me insane," he murmured, his words muffled against your skin. "Do you even know what you do to me?"

Your laugh was soft, teasing, and entirely too addictive. "Maybe. But you're not as much of a loser as I thought."

That made him pause, just for a moment, pulling back to look at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You thought I was a loser?"

You grinned, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Not anymore."

Whatever shred of composure he had left was gone. He crashed his lips against yours again, and this time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just pure, unfiltered want.

Wonwoo froze for a moment, his breath hitching as you ground yourself against him, your movements slow, deliberate, and absolutely maddening. His head was spinning, and it was like something inside him snapped. He wasn't going to hold back anymore.

He grabbed your hips roughly, pressing you firmly against the shelf, his lips ghosting over your ear as his voice dropped an octave. "You really like testing me, don't you?"

Your breath caught, and before you could reply, his mouth was on yours again, demanding, relentless, leaving no room for anything but him. His teeth caught your bottom lip, pulling it gently before he let it go, smirking when he saw your dazed expression.

"Look at you," he murmured, his hands sliding up to cup your waist as you clung to him. "Acting all innocent, but you're nothing more than a needy little slut, aren't you?"

The word sent a jolt through you, heat pooling low in your stomach as you met his gaze, half-lidded and full of fire. "Wonwoo..."

"Say it," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he pressed himself harder against you. "Say you like it when I take control."

You hesitated, your pride battling with the undeniable heat coursing through you, but when his lips trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that made your knees weak, you couldn't help but gasp out, "I like it."

"Good girl," he murmured against your skin, his tone dark and dripping with approval. His hands moved to your blouse, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons one by one, exposing the soft curves of your body.

"You're so desperate for me, aren't you?" he teased, his lips brushing against your collarbone. "I see the way you look at me—don't think I haven't noticed."

You let out a soft whimper as his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your thighs with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

"Wonwoo, please," you whispered, barely able to think straight with the way he was touching you, his hands, his mouth, his everything overwhelming your senses.

"Please what?" he asked, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was intense, burning with a mix of hunger and control. "Use your words."

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you struggled to find the words, but when his hand slid higher, you couldn't hold back. "Please... f- fuck me."

His smirk widened, and he leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "That's what I thought."

He didn't hold back after that, his hands and mouth everywhere, leaving you breathless and entirely at his mercy. The shy, hesitant Wonwoo you thought you knew was gone, replaced by someone who knew exactly what he wanted—and wasn't afraid to take it.

And you? You didn't stand a chance.

Wonwoo felt the pool of wetness of your cunt through the fabric of your underwear. He pulled it aside before inserting two fingers in you. "You're already wet with just a few kisses?"

You gasped, moaned at the feeling of his long, lean fingers entering you in and out slowly but roughly. He already found that spongy spot that made you almost lose your balance. Luckily, his other hand kept you in place. "You're fucking unbelievable."

Your moans filled the room as he edges you through the feeling of his fingers in you. It wasn't long before he has you cumming on his hand, squirting. "W- Wonwoo.." You whimpered, gasping like crazy.

He held you before pulling his fingers out, smirking before sucking on his damped fingers. Before you could say anything, he kissed you, intentionally wanting for you to taste yourself. 

Your head was spinning, but you knew you wanted more. So you held the bulge from his pants, his cock hard and long. You dropped to your knees as you hastily try to take his pants off. 

Wonwoo could just smirk as he looks at you with a mix of awe and smugness. Who knew you'd be like this to him? 

You pulled his pants and underwear down and his cock sprung. It was big, too big for you to handle. But you didn't think of anything else, just Wonwoo. 

You opened your mouth, held his cock with both of your hands before stroking it as you lick the tip of his cock. You put him in and you had him grunting, grabbing a bunch of your hair as he helps you bob your head over his cock. "F- Fuck, you're good at this."

He loved the warmth of your mouth too much, he almost felt like he was cumming. Your tongue swirled over his cock as your hands humped his dick, and that was it, he cummed in your mouth.

It was hot, and you swallowed the most you can and a little spilling over your lips. 

He carries you up, and you wanted to beg him to just fuck you right there. Your inner thighs were glistening by the wetness your pussy was making. 

"P- please help me..." You whimpered as Wonwoo's lips bit the skin of your neck. He smirked before aligning himself in between your thighs, cock meeting the entrance of your soaked cunt.

"You're hopeless," Wonwoo replied, before grabbing your thigh, raising it over his waist and finally enters you fully. 

Wonwoo grunts, your moans like a melody to his ears. He started roughly. It was making you lose your mind. He knew how to position himself to make things a hundred times better.

He thrusted so roughly you felt like you were about to pass out. His name came out from your lips, like a praise.

"You're amazing," Wonwoo says as his hips snaps back and forth. The sounds in the small room sounded too unholy. Too lustful. Skin-to-skin slapping each other with each squelch and pounding.

Your walls were swallowing his cock. Wonwoo held your back, his other hand still carrying your thigh as he uses it to pull you even closer so he can thrust easier.

"You're so fucking tight," Wonwoo growled, his voice low and strained as his hips snapped relentlessly into yours. The pleasure was overwhelming, his cock filling you perfectly with every thrust. Your body arched against him, your nails digging into his back as he continued to hit that perfect spot that made you see stars.

Your moans grew louder, unfiltered and raw, each one driving Wonwoo closer to the edge. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at you," he murmured, his tone dripping with condescension. "Begging for me like a needy little slut. You wanted this, didn't you?"

You whimpered, unable to form a coherent reply as he continued to pound into you, his hand sliding from your thigh to your waist, gripping you tightly to keep you exactly where he wanted you. The new angle made you cry out, your walls clenching around him in response.

"You're taking me so well," he praised, his voice husky. "God, you feel so fucking good." His lips found your neck again, leaving marks that you knew you'd see later, but in that moment, you didn't care.

Your hands slid up to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as you moaned his name like it was the only word you knew. Wonwoo groaned at the sensation, his thrusts becoming even rougher, more desperate.

"You're mine," he growled, his hand moving to grip your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you gasped, the words spilling out without hesitation. "I'm yours, Wonwoo."

A dark smirk spread across his lips as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his hips never faltering. The room was filled with the sound of your moans, his grunts, and the obscene slap of skin against skin. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and everything you never knew you needed.

Your body trembled as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. Wonwoo could feel it too, the way your walls fluttered around him, and he growled in approval.

"Come for me," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you fall apart on my cock."

The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless pace of his thrusts sent you over the edge, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clenched tightly around him, and the sensation was enough to push Wonwoo to his limit.

"Fuck," he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his body shuddering as he spilled into you, his grip on your waist tightening as he rode out his high.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the only sound in the room your heavy breaths as you both came down from the intensity of what had just happened. Wonwoo leaned his forehead against yours, his dark eyes searching yours as a small, satisfied smirk played on his lips.

"Still think I'm a loser?" he teased, his voice low and slightly breathless.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, your cheeks flushed. "No," you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

The rest of the world ceased to exist. It was just you and him, tangled together in the dim storage room, your laughter and gasps filling the space.

For once, Wonwoo didn't feel like a loser to you. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

Wonwoo finally pulled back, his lips brushing your forehead softly—a stark contrast to the firestorm that had just taken place. His hands stayed on your waist, steadying you as you struggled to catch your breath. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with the weight of what just happened.

"Um..." you finally murmured, your voice still breathy, and his gaze flicked to yours. "That was... unexpected."

Wonwoo chuckled lowly, the sound reverberating through his chest. "Yeah, no kidding."

You both shared a small, sheepish laugh, the tension melting ever so slightly as reality began to settle in. But before you could even begin to overthink what had just transpired, Wonwoo brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his concern evident in his tone.

You nodded, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile. "More than okay. That was..." You trailed off, biting your lip as heat rushed to your cheeks. "Let's just say you've got nothing to worry about in the loser department."

Wonwoo snorted, shaking his head, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his confidence. "Yeah, well, don't go spreading that around. I've got a reputation to maintain."

"Oh, trust me," you teased, poking his chest playfully. "Your secret's safe with me."

As the two of you began to straighten yourselves out—fixing clothes, smoothing hair, and trying not to look too disheveled—Wonwoo found himself stealing glances at you, the glow of your post-climactic state making you look even more radiant.

When you caught him staring, you raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What? Regretting it already?"

His eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. "No! God, no." He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just... wondering how the hell I got so lucky."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you played it cool, rolling your eyes with a grin. "Guess you're not such a loser after all."

Before either of you could say more, a loud knock at the storage room door startled you both, followed by Mingyu's unmistakable voice. "Hey! Wonwoo? You in there? We need those props ASAP!"

Your eyes widened, and Wonwoo groaned, his head falling back as he muttered under his breath, "Perfect timing, as always."

You quickly gathered the remaining items, trying not to giggle as Wonwoo shot you an exasperated look. "Guess we'll have to finish this conversation later," you whispered, brushing past him on your way to the door.

But before you could open it, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, pulling you back gently. "Wait," he said, his voice low.

You turned to face him, your breath catching as his dark eyes bore into yours. "Can I see you later? I mean, outside of this," he gestured vaguely to the props and the chaos outside. "Like... for real?"

Your lips curved into a soft smile, and you nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Fast-forward a few days later...

The awkwardness between you and Wonwoo didn't last long—not after he made it a point to text you later that night, asking if you'd gotten home safely. That small gesture opened the door to something more, and over the next few days, the two of you found yourselves gravitating toward each other more and more.

From stolen glances in the hallways to whispered conversations during class breaks, it became clear that whatever spark had ignited in that storage room wasn't going to fizzle out anytime soon.

Wonwoo surprised you with his wit and dry humor, and you loved how his quiet confidence contrasted with your own lively personality. He'd walk you to your booth during the festival, lingering just long enough to make your heart race before retreating to his usual spot with Mingyu.

But the best moments were the ones you shared when no one else was around—like the late-night coffee runs where he'd listen intently as you rambled about your latest project, or the times he'd let his guard down and tell you about his favorite video games and why he loved them.

One evening, as the festival wound down, you found yourselves sitting on the steps of an empty amphitheater, the cool night air wrapping around you like a blanket. Wonwoo handed you his hoodie when he noticed you shivering, his fingers brushing yours in the process.

"Thanks," you said softly, pulling it over your head and inhaling the faint scent of him that clung to the fabric.

"You look better in it than I do," he murmured, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your cheeks heat up.

You nudged him playfully, breaking the moment with a laugh. "Careful, Jeon Wonwoo. You're starting to sound like a total simp."

He smirked, leaning back on his elbows. "Maybe I am."

Your laughter died down as you looked at him, the vulnerability in his expression making your heart swell. "For what it's worth," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "I like this version of you—the one who's confident enough to go after what he wants."

Wonwoo's lips curved into a small smile, and he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "And for what it's worth," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, "I'm really glad you think so."

You didn't expect to end up in Wonwoo's apartment after the festival. Well, maybe you did—it wasn't like he hadn't been hinting at it all evening. But still, sitting on his couch in his slightly-too-big hoodie (the same one he let you borrow earlier), surrounded by shelves lined with games and a setup that screamed gamer aesthetic, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"What's so funny?" Wonwoo asked, glancing at you from where he was setting up his console. His glasses perched on his nose made him look ridiculously adorable, and you couldn't stop staring.

"Nothing," you replied with a sly grin. "Just thinking how your apartment is exactly what I imagined—complete with the snacks and random figurines everywhere."

He rolled his eyes but smirked anyway. "Yeah? And what did you expect, a penthouse?"

"No," you teased. "Maybe something with fewer RGB lights."

He scoffed. "Hate on my lights all you want, but you're the one about to lose at Mario Kart."

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back into the couch. "Oh, you think so? I'll have you know I'm a beast at this game."

Wonwoo chuckled, handing you a controller. "We'll see about that."

It started innocently enough—both of you yelling at the screen, throwing blue shells, and arguing over whether or not banana peels were strategically placed. But then the stakes got higher.

"If I win this round," you said, your competitive streak showing, "you owe me dinner next time."

Wonwoo smirked, leaning closer to you. "And if I win?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Fine. You get to pick the next game we play. But I'm warning you, I'm not going easy on you."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Alright, deal."

The game started, and for the first few laps, you held the lead, much to Wonwoo's frustration. "No way. How are you this good?" he muttered, his fingers flying over the controller.

"Skill, baby," you replied, sticking your tongue out at him.

But then, in the final stretch, he managed to throw a red shell at you, sending your character spinning out of control just before the finish line. Wonwoo's triumphant laugh filled the room as his character crossed first.

"No way!" you yelled, throwing your controller onto the couch. "You cheated!"

"Cheating? That's just strategy," he replied smugly, leaning back and crossing his arms like he owned the place.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "Fine. What's your pick for the next game, loser?"

But instead of answering, Wonwoo leaned closer, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "I think I've got something better in mind," he murmured.

Before you could react, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft and desperate. Your surprise melted into eagerness as you kissed him back, your hands reaching up to tug at the hoodie he was wearing.

"Wonwoo..." you breathed as he pulled back, his eyes dark and hooded.

"You said I'm a loser," he muttered, his voice low as he pushed you gently against the couch. "But if I'm a loser, I'm your loser."

You let out a soft laugh, but it quickly turned into a gasp as his lips found your neck, his hands wandering under the hem of your borrowed hoodie.

"You're really full of yourself tonight, huh?" you teased, your fingers sliding up the back of his shirt, nails grazing his skin.

Wonwoo smirked against your skin, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "What can I say? Winning feels good."

Your banter dissolved into something much steamier as he pulled the hoodie over your head, his hands roaming your body with newfound confidence. His touch was deliberate, teasing, and so much more dominant than you expected from him.

"You talk too much," he murmured, his voice rough, as he captured your lips again, his hands gripping your thighs to pull you onto his lap.

"Make me stop," you challenged, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

Wonwoo growled softly, his hands sliding under your shorts as he pressed his forehead against yours. "Oh, I will."

The room was filled with sounds of teasing as the two of you made out, kissing, giggling.

And from there, any semblance of restraint between you two disappeared. The games forgotten, the only sounds filling the room were soft gasps, hushed whispers, and the occasional murmur of each other's names.

It changed when Mingyu texted Wonwoo to play league with him.

You didn't think this is where the night would go—sitting on Wonwoo's lap, his cock buried deep inside you, while his hands moved deftly over his keyboard and mouse. The glow from his monitor illuminated the room in a way that made the scene feel even more illicit, like you shouldn't be here, doing this, but neither of you cared.

"Stay still," Wonwoo murmured, his voice low but commanding, the same tone he'd used earlier when he coaxed you into this position.

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edges of his desk to keep yourself steady. Every slight movement sent a shiver through your body, and you bit your lip, trying to stay quiet.

Wonwoo's focus was split—one part on the game playing out in front of him, the other on the way your walls clenched around him every time he moved slightly. His mic was on, and his teammates' voices filled the headset, unaware of the situation he was in.

"Wonwoo, you good?" Mingyu's voice crackled through his headphones. "You're quiet tonight."

Wonwoo chuckled softly, his voice steady despite the way his hands had momentarily gripped your waist to still you when you squirmed. "Yeah, I'm good. Just focusing."

Focusing? That was a lie. How could he focus when you were here, squirming on his lap, your breath hitching every time he adjusted in his chair?

"Stop moving," he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Unless you want them to hear you."

You glared at him, but your resolve crumbled when his hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it lightly. It was a warning, and you knew better than to test him right now.

"Wonwoo, watch the top lane!" one of his teammates shouted, bringing him back to the game.

"I'm on it," he replied smoothly, his fingers moving with precision as he skillfully navigated the game. His calmness was infuriating, especially when you were struggling to keep your composure.

Every time his hips shifted, even slightly, it sent sparks through your body. He knew it too, the smirk on his lips giving him away.

You bit down on your lip to stifle a whimper when he adjusted his position again, the movement causing him to press even deeper inside you.

"Something wrong?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "You look like you're struggling."

You wanted to snap back, but you couldn't trust yourself to speak without making a sound that would give away what was happening.

Instead, you clenched around him intentionally, earning a soft grunt from him.

"Careful," he warned, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made your stomach flip. "Don't start something you can't finish."

You wanted to test him, but the sound of Mingyu's voice pulled you back to reality.

"Wonwoo, you're carrying this game, man!"

He laughed softly, the sound vibrating through you. "What can I say? I'm just that good."

You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but you couldn't deny that watching him play with such ease was undeniably attractive. His focus, his skill, the way his hands moved—it all had you feeling more heated than you already were.

When the game ended, and the victory screen flashed on the monitor, Wonwoo finally leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on your hips.

"Guess I'm a winner after all," he teased, his voice low and smug.

You turned to glare at him, but before you could say anything, he shifted his hips, drawing a gasp from you that you quickly stifled with your hand.

"Careful," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "We wouldn't want them to hear, would we?"

"God, you're insufferable," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, his hands tightening on your hips. "And yet, here you are."

Wonwoo's breath hitched as you shifted slightly on his lap, your walls squeezing him involuntarily. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the control he was trying so hard to maintain beginning to falter.

"Careful," he rasped, his voice low and strained, his forehead pressing against yours. "You don't want to push your luck."

You tilted your head innocently, even as a sly smile spread across your lips. "What's wrong? I thought you were supposed to be 'dominant,' Mr. Pro Gamer."

His jaw clenched at your teasing, and the veins in his neck became more pronounced. The challenge in your tone, coupled with the sensation of your warmth around him, was driving him insane.

"You're playing with fire," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to steady you—but it only made you grind against him slightly.

"Am I?" you whispered, leaning closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "Because it seems like I'm the one in control right now."

That was it. The last straw. Wonwoo's patience snapped.

His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he lifted you slightly, only to slam you back down onto his length, making you gasp. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?"

The sudden force made you cling to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as a moan slipped past your lips. "W-Wonwoo—"

"Shh," he cut you off, his voice commanding as he kissed along your jaw, biting softly before moving to your neck. "Be quiet. You wouldn't want my teammates to hear how desperate you sound, would you?"

Your breath caught as his words sank in, but before you could respond, he lifted you again, this time at a torturously slow pace, making you feel every inch of him as he lowered you back down.

The friction was unbearable, your body trembling as he set a rhythm that was deliberate and punishingly slow, as if he was determined to prove a point. His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, his voice dripping with smugness. "Look at you... so cocky earlier, but now you're nothing but a messy little thing in my lap."

"Wonwoo, please," you whimpered, the slow pace driving you to the brink of insanity.

"Please what?" he taunted, his movements halting completely as he held you in place, his length buried deep inside you. "You want something, you're gonna have to say it."

You bit your lip, refusing to give in to his game. But when he flexed his hips ever so slightly, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body, you broke. "Please... I need you to move."

His lips curled into a smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Without warning, he snapped his hips upward, a sharp thrust that made you cry out. He didn't give you a chance to recover as he set a relentless pace, his hands guiding your movements as he worked you over his length.

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, accompanied by the muffled noises you tried desperately to suppress. Wonwoo's name fell from your lips like a mantra, each syllable laced with desperation and need.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his head falling back as he tried to keep himself from completely unraveling. "Fuck, you feel so good."

The heat pooling in your stomach was reaching its peak, and you could tell from the way Wonwoo's thrusts were becoming more erratic that he was close too.

"Wonwoo, I—I'm gonna—"

"Me too," he grunted, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself as deep as he could, his movements becoming sloppier. "Come for me, baby. I wanna feel you."

With one final thrust, the coil inside you snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your walls clenched around him, drawing a guttural moan from his throat as he followed you over the edge, his release spilling into you in hot spurts.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, your bodies trembling and pressed together as you caught your breath. Wonwoo's forehead rested against yours, his chest heaving as he let out a breathless laugh.

"Still think I'm a loser?" he teased, his voice hoarse but playful.

You smiled weakly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Maybe a little... but you're my loser."

His grin widened, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to what had just transpired. "I'll take it."

And as you nestled against him, the warmth of his arms around you, you couldn't help but think that being with him like this felt exactly right.

Wonwoo gently leaned back in his chair, his arms still wrapped securely around you as he tried to catch his breath. His lips brushed over your temple, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You really do know how to distract me, huh?"

You giggled, nuzzling into his neck, still feeling the aftershocks of what just happened. "Distract? Please. You're the one who can't keep his hands to himself."

He raised an eyebrow at you, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Says the one who begged me to move."

Your face flushed at his teasing, and you smacked his shoulder lightly. "Shut up, Wonwoo."

He just laughed, the sound deep and warm, before finally shifting under you. The sudden movement made you gasp softly, and your eyes widened as you realized he was still very much inside you.

"Wonwoo..." you whispered, the heat rising to your cheeks.

He smirked at your reaction, his hands resting on your waist as he adjusted you in his lap. "What? You're comfortable, aren't you?"

"I—" You bit your lip, your gaze darting away from his. You couldn't deny it; there was something intoxicating about the feeling of being so close to him, of him still filling you completely.

"Good," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers traced slow circles on your bare thighs. "Because I'm not letting you go just yet."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and before you could protest, he reached over to his desk, grabbing his headphones and slipping them over his ears.

"Wait, what are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

He turned to his computer, the familiar sound of a game loading up filling the air. "I've got a match in five minutes," he said casually, as if you weren't still perched on his lap, his cock nestled snugly inside you.

Your jaw dropped. "Wonwoo, are you serious right now?"

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Dead serious. But don't worry..." He adjusted his microphone, the green light signaling that it was on. "You just have to sit there and be quiet. Think you can manage that, baby?"

You stared at him, torn between disbelief and amusement. The audacity.

"Wonwoo," you hissed, your voice low to avoid being picked up by his mic. "You can't just—"

"Shh," he interrupted, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before turning his attention back to the screen. "Game's starting. Be a good girl for me, okay?"

The heat in your cheeks intensified, and you squirmed slightly in his lap, only to freeze when you felt him twitch inside you. His grip on your hips tightened, and he shot you a warning look.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Unless you want everyone to know exactly what we're doing right now."

Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay still as he started his game. The sound of his teammates' voices filled the room, and you could hear Wonwoo's calm, composed replies as he coordinated their strategy.

Meanwhile, you were doing everything in your power to keep your breathing steady, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. The sensation of him still inside you was overwhelming, every slight movement or shift making you hyper-aware of just how intimate this was.

But what drove you even crazier was how unfazed he seemed, his focus completely on the game as if nothing was out of the ordinary. His calm demeanor, his steady voice—it was infuriatingly attractive.

Every now and then, his hand would leave the keyboard to rest on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if he was reminding you who was in control, even in the middle of a match.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the soft whimper that threatened to escape when he shifted slightly in his chair, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"Wonwoo..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I said be quiet, baby. Or do you want them to hear how good I make you feel?"

Your breath hitched, and you shook your head quickly, your cheeks burning.

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning his attention to the game. "That's my girl."

As the match continued, you couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly he played, his movements precise and skillful. But no matter how focused he seemed, you knew you were still on his mind.

It was in the way his hand would tighten on your thigh whenever you shifted, in the way his lips would twitch into a smirk whenever he felt you clench around him.

And when the game finally ended, his team celebrating their victory, Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, his hands settling on your waist as he looked at you with a satisfied grin.

"See? Told you I could multitask," he teased, his voice low and smug.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "You're insufferable."

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But you love it."

And as his hands began to roam again, you realized that the night was far from over.

Earlier, during Mario Kart

What you didn’t know, of course, was that Wonwoo had let you win. He’d spent most of the race holding back, deliberately missing items and slowing down just enough to let you get ahead. Watching you gloat about your supposed victory had been worth every second.

“Did you really think you’d win that easily?” he’d asked, his smirk betraying the truth.

But he didn’t mind letting you have the spotlight. For now, at least.

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed :]] feel free to send some reqs ilyall

[wonuwonder]

for later lol

[cherry-hulu]

· · · — thinking about on vacation mingyu being your best and most memorable fuck.

warnings: poolside sex, raw sex, strangers who fucked, idol!kmg but not specifically mentioned, kinda filthy, paris fw!kmg, this all happened in 1 day

on vacation mingyu who you bumped into while skiing and getting excited when you both find out you speak the same language

on vacation mingyu who lets you join him and his friend while skiing, laughing with each other and having a great time

on vacation mingyu who developed his first ever actual vacation crush because he hasn't gotten the opportunity to get to know others this much until you

on vacation mingyu who asked to exchange numbers with you before going your own ways into which you said yes to

on vacation mingyu who you find out actually goes to the same hotel as you and invites you to have a drink out during the night

on vacation mingyu who spontaneously asked if you wanted to go swimming on the same night with the excuse of using it to sober up even though neither of you were drunk and also because no one was on the pool

on vacation mingyu who made your jaw drop and pussy clench with the mere view of his body, special mention to his bulging biceps

on vacation mingyu who pretends he doesn't notice you getting flustered and actually encourages it by discretely flirting

on vacation mingyu who asked you to take photos of him just for the fun of it and also to hopefully attract you (as if you aren't already)

on vacation mingyu who acted on his impulse and kissed you out of the blue because it felt right

on vacation mingyu who effortlessly picked you up with your thighs, grinding his boner in between your folds through the fabric of your panties

on vacation mingyu who shamelessly leaves hickeys and love bites on your neck making you moan while his hands grope your boobs through your bra

on vacation mingyu who lifted you on the edge of the pool while your palm his dick through his pants feeling the hardness of his dick and tracing the prominent veins

on vacation mingyu who wasted no time in taking your panties off and eating you out, his hot tongue licking striped on your cunt, sucking your bud, playing with your clit, fucking you with his fingers

on vacation mingyu who literally made you cum twice through basic oral

on vacation mingyu who's dick was so big and delicious that you couldn't help but suck off as well, you're tongue tracing every vein and sucking and circling on his tip, licking the slit, and absolutely deepthroating

on vacation mingyu who looks so fucking hot tilting his head back, water dripping down his forehead and tracing down his abs while you blow him off, bottom lip bitten between his teeth, hand tangled on your hair into a ponytail

on vacation mingyu who can't help but mutter praises to you, damn who's secretly listening if there's one

on vacation mingyu who can't resist anymore and fuck you outdoors beside the pool

on vacation mingyu who fucks so good, hard and deep, hitting your g-spot and sometimes even kissing your cervix

on vacation mingyu who has you pinned down with his lips, hand supporting your head with the other holding you still by your waist

on vacation mingyu who's rutting in you so good, fucking you senseless making your forget you had just met him today and he was fucking outside on the pool of the hotel you were staying at

on vacation mingyu who's praising and degrading you at the same time; "Fucking slut, you barely even know me but you're already acting like a whore, taking dick so good it got you dumb you probably forgot we're actually strangers."

on vacation mingyu who moans when you leave scratches on his back ignoring the fact that fashion week was just a few days away, whatever that's the stylist's problem now

on vacation mingyu who wanted oh so badly to cum in you but can't for obvious reasons

on vacation mingyu who makes sures to make you cum on his cock thrice before letting himself pull out and leave a mess all over your tummy

on vacation mingyu who rubs your clit despite all making you squirt on him and cum for the sixth time tonight

on vacation mingyu who finally stops with his fingers only to move with his tongue as he cleans you up of his and your mess

on vacation mingyu who kisses your tears away, holding your overstimulated and shaking body close to his as he brings the two of you into the hot tub to calm you down

on vacation mingyu who's so soft and gentle during the aftercare, taking you to his room when you fell asleep on him while he was rinsing the two of you in the pool bathroom

on vacation mingyu who doesn't leave you alone, but actually joins you in bed to sleep so you won't think that it's just a quick hookup, because he's actually interested of what it gets to be

on vacation mingyu who makes you wear his sweater and boxers to bed, cradling you in your sleep ensuring that your warm and well rested

on vacation mingyu who's there when you wake up, smiling at you and inviting you for breakfast

on vacation mingyu who you will never forget, not only because of the amazing sex, big dick, great pullout game, fantastic tongue and fingers, but also because he's become part of your life

[wonuwonder]

crazy as hell, good as fuck

[wonuwonder]

What abt bathroom seggs with Wonu😩

so good - jeon wonwoo (m)

an: soo um… hi? i’m sorta back, this request was made soo long ago i literally suck i’m sorry, but i was going through them and thought this would be fun, so here’s a quick (and horny) wonwoo smut drabble (700 words) — masterlist

content: smut, jeon wonwoo x fem reader, established relationship, semi-public, mirror sex, anything else lmk!! lowercase intended btw. MDNI !

“let them hear you baby” wonwoo grunted as he flipped you over the sink and pressed you against him, he let out a deep sigh as he pulled his cock out and stroked it a few times.

clothes and underwear discarded all over the tiny bathroom of the house party, your boyfriend had you pressed against him for a quick fuck after you rubbed your ass all over him on the dance floor.

“don’t tease wonu i’m dying here” you looked back over your shoulder while backing up your hips to try and get some relief while bumping against his crotch, “ughhh-” you pressed your eyes closed, annoyed at how he made you wait.

he slapped and dragged his cock against your cunt, gathering all your arousal, making you whimper “you’re dripping all over me and i didn’t even do anything yet” grunting, he bumped his hips against your entrance roughly pushing you over the sink “mhmm you’re so good baby”

you couldn’t take it anymore, so you reached back to try and grab his already leaking cock and guide it to your entrance “there’s people waiting outside the bathroom wonwoo, make it quick i can’t wait anymo-”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence as he slammed all the way in, stuffing you full of his cock, making you and himself a moaning mess. you were both so fucked out already, and it was even worse because of how tipsy you both were, mingyu’s birthday parties were always the best.

you loved fucking under the influence with your boyfriend, since wonwoo always got more vocal when he was tipsy.

“so tight, i’m not gonna last long” he growled as he bottomed out again, you were barely hanging onto the sink, watching yourself in the mirror, a moaning mess through and through “i love having you like this” he slaps your ass and you arch your back, moaning loudly.

“wonwoo! fu-uckk” you stutter, your mind fogging over how deep and hard he was going.

“that’s right let everyone hear who’s fucking you like this” he slams harder into you, gripping your waist -most likely leaving the mark of his fingers-

“too much- ugh too much baby” you whimper, and he grunts slamming back into you.

“m’gonna cum babe, fuck!” he gets close to your nape and starts kissing your back massaging your boobs with one of his hands “cum with me” he grabs you by the throat and pulls you up against him, his thrusts getting sloppier but harder “fuck- look at you” he says while gripping your chin steadily, making you look at yourselves in the mirror, you can barely hold eye contact with him as the sensations take over you, you squint your eyes shut.

“i can’t woo- ugh fuck won”

he slams into you one more time and you let yourself go, breathing heavily resting your head against his chest, as he rides out your high and cums inside you, his cum leaking out of your pussy all over your thighs.

both of you breathing heavily, he turns you around and drunkly smiles against your mouth, wonwoo goes in for a sloppy kiss, holding you in your place since your legs were shaking.

“i love you baby, you’re always so good to me-” smiling against his lips you’re about to reply but you get interrumpted by a loud thump at the door.

“can yall get out? i’m fucking peeing myself!” it’s dino, shouting from outside of the bathroom.

“shows over you fucking horndogs get out! the people have to pee!” it’s cheol now, urging you both to get the heck out.

you and wonwoo laugh complicitly and get dressed quickly, bearing yourselves to do the walk of shame in front of all your friends.

an: anyone missing wonu BAD recently? i need him back asap the days need to pass by quicker omfg, i miss my man😫 reblogs & comments are appreciated, i love to read what u think

[cheol-e-kat]

hi! for the bingo card, how about bedsharing + big dick mingyu? maybe mc and mingyu are best friends sharing a bed on a trip, but mingyu gets hard while sleeping. when they both wake up, gyu has morning wood and mc is aroused. what better way to solve the problem than fuck it out?

anon, thanks for submitting this ask - idk why but it just scratched my brain so i kind of went ham on it 

♡ kat

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

bingo squares: bed sharing + big dick!mingyu

genres: f2l, fluff, one bed, confessions, smut

summary: y/n and mingyu are best friends - they go on a weekend trip, and when there is only one bed in their room, they finally give in to their feelings

word count: 3.1k

rating: NSFW | MDNI

warnings: below cut

oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, cum eating, deep-throating

the trip to the tiny hotel had been such a nightmare. first, packing for any trip is an anxious activity for you - do you pretend to be the minimalist girlie with one bag (who you know you aren’t), or just be yourself and bring like five bags with all the options. second, it started raining, which was fine until thunder and lightening decided to join in on the game of who can kill y/n’s vibe the fastest. third, you didn’t even know, but you were waiting on tenterhooks to find out, you thought sarcastically as mingyu went to check in and you waited in the car, only jumping once when lightening struck really close. 

to be fair, your best friend was the only saving grace so far. if anything, he overlooked your overpacking and reminded you of the things you did actually need, like your toothbrush. and when the weather started to freak you out, he just distracted you by asking about that one guy at work you genuinely can’t stand and what he did that week that basically ruined your life - there were at least fifty things that had made you want to smack the guy. 

you watched him pop back out of the cute hotel - it was cute - your mutual friend had picked an extremely charming place for her ‘couples’ camping weekend. when camping started to include hotels, you had no idea, but it was in a little town with mountain views, so whatever. and as always, the fact that you and mingyu were only best friends and not part of an actual couple was never mentioned. you were just lumped together, usually with separate rooms or at least rooms that included two beds, but still. plus, up until a few weeks ago, mingyu had been part of a couple, and you weren’t planning to come this time around. 

but that didn’t matter. you carried your own bags, waving him off when he offered help - it was sweet, but he didn’t need to encourage you by lightening your load. the three bags were your problem. 

he was definitely a minimalist one bag boy, which you did envy just a bit. but if you were him and could get away with two tshirts and one pair of jeans that looked like…your mind wandered way too freely as you walked behind him, and noticed the way his jeans showed off that he did have a really nice ass. 

you blinked your thoughts away quickly as you stepped into the elevator with him and tried to avoid eye contact because you knew you might laugh and give yourself away. 

“there’s just one room,” he said as he pushed the button for the fourth floor. 

you shrugged, “it is like a smaller place,” you cringed at your lame answer and glanced at the ceiling trying to think about anything besides the fact that you had stared at his ass not two minutes earlier. words like ‘firm’ and ‘tasty’ kept popping into your mind though. 

really, he had no business being as handsome as he was. and you had no business thinking about his ass. he was supposed to be here with whatever her name was, and not you.  

you needed to get it together, but it never helped that you and mingyu weren’t just best friends. you both had a habit of ping-ponging from one bad relationship to another and always in between were things like this weekend, where you appeared as stand-in dates for one another. or longer periods where you just hung out together, watching movies and ordering food and being very domestic with each other. sometimes, you wondered when it would end, and you would really have to figure out how to make certain dishes for yourself. 

you followed him down the hall to room nine and quickly realized what the third bad thing was - there was just one bed. you tried to maintain a straight face because of course there was just one bed - he had been planning to come here with someone he was with. you glanced around, hoping for a sofa or something. you were not sharing a bed with him, that was too much. 

but it was a tiny ass, dainty, fucking hotel!! you wanted to scream. because everything was clearly focused on cute and not on practicalities like two people who definitely need two beds for their sanity. 

the thing was, you were internally dying, and mingyu was completely zen. like it was just natural that there was one bed. he was already unpacking, even. 

and yes, there were things that you had grown used to - yes, he slept in underwear only, which seemed to be a courtesy to you more than anything. and sure, he had no qualms about being shirtless - you had seen him undress way too often actually. 

but your brain was virtually desensitized to seeing his body - of course he had a perfect chest and mind boggling abs and arms that could easily fold you like an origami crane - whatever, you were used to those things. but the proximity part? that was - no! you would sleep in the bath tub first. this was the hill you would die on! you were not sharing a bed with him - it wasn’t even a big bed - it was like maybe a full size. 

you finished changing in the bathroom and opened the door, knowing you both had skincare routines. and given that there was one sink and one mirror, and your three functioning brain cells were at capacity, you appreciated that he kind of worked around you. but when you slipped past him to get out of the tight space, having only done the bare minimum of moisturizing, you felt bad for being in his way.  

you also noticed that he was surprisingly wearing sweats and a tshirt. that was new. or not, he wasn’t the type to make others uncomfortable. if he could wear clothes, then maybe there was some hope, you thought. 

and then you tried the mattress. it was insanely lumpy. every spot you tried was lump city. 

when you realized he was standing over you, you sat up like you had been caught doing something dirty. 

“it’s lumpy,” you said meekly. 

he snorted, “is it?”

you nodded. 

“it’s not so bad,” he started. 

“what? no, it’s a lumpy nightmare,” you had tried every spot. 

“i meant us sharing - you’ve been panicking since we came into the room,” he said it so softly. 

“oh,” you tried to be calm, but there was nothing past your revelation of ‘oh.’

he watched you blushing slightly, “i kind of forgot about what i booked.”

his voice was weird. he sounded almost nervous, which was weird for the most confident person you knew. 

“i mean, it’s fine - totally fine - bro,” you rambled and had possibly never sounded more ridiculous in your life. 

he laughed, his cute pointy canines on display, “bro? seriously y/n,” he giggled. 

you sighed and moved around to point out where you thought the least lumpy spots were. he hummed in response, joining you on the bed. your stomach leapt into your throat just feeling the bed shift with his added weight. 

“so here,” he leaned over you pointing, “and here,” you could hear his teasing tone. at least that was normal. 

“i’m being serious,” you gave him a playful shove, “look don’t listen and wake up tomorrow complaining ‘oh y/n my back hurts’ like no, no - i won’t be listening,” you grumbled as he flopped down, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you close. 

“but you always listen to me whine about things,” he pouted. 

“yeah, but this is avoidable,” you totally weren’t paying attention to the fact that you were lying on top of him, or that his hands were tracing along your back - this was about mattress integrity. 

he nodded, watching you, which was annoying because it always seemed to make you shut up about things somehow. just this persistent, fairly serene way he had of watching you complain about a thing was like if the sun suddenly focused only on you and you just wilted and died. 

you sighed, thinking back to. the sharing issue - “yes, it’s basically fine - neither of us will die - and for once you’re actually wearing clothes, which is kind of wild.”

he grinned at that, “i can undress if that’s what you’re getting at,” he raised his eyebrows suggestively - it was more dorky than sexy. 

“no, please, i’ve seen enough of your irl underwear model campaigns since we’ve been friends,” you huffed, completely ignoring the way your hands seemed to be busying themselves with smoothing stray hairs from his forehead. 

“mmmh, that’s funny.”

your brows knitted together, “why?”

“because you always seem totally unaware of things like that,” he answered flatly. 

you couldn’t help that you laughed, almost directly in his face, “sorry,” you started to roll away, but he held you in place. 

you laughed again, more from nervousness, “seriously - did you just say ‘i seem unaware’? you saw me looking for the lumpy part of the mattress right?” you knew you sounded offended, but anyone implying that you didn’t pay attention to things around you was an astonishing statement - groundbreaking even. 

he nodded, “yeah, but i’m not a lumpy mattress or people at work who annoy you, so,” he trailed off. 

“so what?”

“so i assume you don’t pay attention to me quiet like that - i mean i know the color of sweaters people in your hr department wear,” he sounded fully exasperated. which was very different - that he seemed annoyed with you, maybe. 

you watched him for a moment, thinking of how to say what you wanted to say, “mingyu, if i told you all the things i notice about you,” — you had no clue where that sentence was headed and could feel maybe all of the blood in your entire body rushing to your face. you were grateful that he cut you off.

“so you do notice me then?”

you blinked slowly, hearing the question in his voice, you nodded - “is there something specific?” you asked earnestly. 

“i mean, yeah,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing ever. and he was still watching you in this way that was soft? maybe, you couldn’t put your finger on it. but you were certain your heart was beating way too fast. and that the position you were in, the literal position of you lying on top of him while you chatted about something, was suddenly feeling so familiar it was almost disturbing. 

it wasn’t an issue of not noticing - noticing way easy - it was understanding what the thing you noticed meant in context. like yes, you fully knew how fit he was, and you had deep feelings for the cute beauty marks on his nose and cheek. you appreciated all the things he did for you and certainly tried to repay him. 

you flexed your hands gently, the pads of your fingers feeling his chest - the room felt so small. if you did the wrong thing, the entire moment would shatter, so instead, you thought of all the cute, sweet things he did, and you did the thing you always wanted to do to say ‘thank you’ but had never tried because he was mingyu and too perfect for you. 

you kissed him.

for a second, you thought you had done the wrong thing until he was returning your kiss with his own. his lips were softer than you imagined. you ran your fingers through his hair, rushing to touch him before whatever magical spell came with having one bed wore off. 

at least it felt that way until he swapped your positions, and it was him kissing you - your cheeks and forehead, the gentle way his lips brushed against yours that made you moan faintly because being under him, feeling his weight and his hands holding you just where he wanted you so that he could kiss you the way he wanted was beyond your capacity. it was only made worse when you felt his soft exhale against your skin before he fully kissed you. 

it went on like that, a slow back and forth of making out and dry humping one another like teenagers. which you didn’t hate in the least. especially when you palmed him through his sweats, feeling just how big his cock was. 

“like it?” he asked, whispering against your skin.

you nodded, “i always thought it would be big,” you bit your lip gently, tracing your hand along his clothed shaft, “not this big, but big, veiny, definitely requiring some prep to take, or not if you wanted it rough - exactly the kind of dick you might describe as being ‘impaled’ on,” you smiled, never had you ever imagined you would be telling him your thoughts on his dick. 

he laughed softly, “impaled on?” he asked as he sat up.

you nodded, watching him, wondering if his natural competitiveness extended to sex, too. you imagined him doing everything to shove his entire cock into you in one go, no lube. you reached out and snapped the waistband of his underwear gently.

“want help with that? you know, so we can go to sleep,” you offered.

he nodded, letting you move between his legs while he leaned back. you pulled his pants and underwear down and eyed the horse cock you had been palming before. 

“think you can take all of it?” 

you glanced up at him, seeing the slightly fucked out way he was watching you. you only smiled and leaned close, kissing the base of his cock and licking your way to his leaking tip. 

“fuck, y/n, don’t tease,” he whined softly. 

you used your hand to guide him where you needed him, and to be fair, you knew you were good at giving blow jobs. but staring down at his dick, you were starting to understand the source of his complaints about never getting good head. his dick was intimidating, but in all fairness, you couldn’t think of anyone else’s dick you would rather choke on. 

and since he didn’t want to be teased, you decided not to hide the fact that you could deep-throat. it didn’t mean you didn’t feel tears pricking the edges of your eyes as you took him in, but why not pay him back for all the dinners he had cooked you, or at least a substantial number of them. 

your jaw was beyond relaxed by the time you had him all the way in, and even though you could feel his fingers in your hair, he wasn’t applying any downward pressure - you traced the tip of your tongue against the base of cock, just so he knew he was really that deep. 

he was mumbling a string of ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ every five seconds - especially when you started to take him a bit faster, loving the feel of his cock stretching your mouth, even when it started to ache. you wanted him to come, though, so you started teasing his balls too, massaging them and focusing on breathing through your nose. 

you felt him pull your hair roughly - you only glanced up at him, and kept sucking him off - you knew he was close. and when he came, the way his cum went down your throat and filled your mouth - you couldn’t help swallowing around him and finally pulling back. it was just so sloppy and good.

you sat back, looking at him for a moment, enjoying his dazed look as you licked your lips, your hands pressing gently into his thighs. 

he reached out and caught the front of your tshirt, pulling you down to him - he kissed you delicately for a few minutes before going to the bathroom. you were already half asleep on the least lumpy part of the bed when he came back to curl around you for sleep. 

you woke up and immediately knew your legs were tangled with mingyu’s. you stretched a bit and pressed close to him - he pulled you even closer - you heard him mumble something and ‘baby.’ it was cute. he was cute. and you had gone down on him like it was your fucking job the night before. your face flushed, remembering it. there were things that you two didn’t discuss, and while you might know that his biggest wish was for one good blow job - you certainly had no idea about the monster he kept so well hidden in his pants, nor did he have a clue about your dick-sucking abilities. 

you shivered happily when you felt him kiss the back of your neck. you turned back and kissed him without a second thought. it was apparently way too easy to end up straddling him, reaching between you to feel his morning wood, stroking him teasingly, smiling when he started to pout. 

you leaned down, nuzzling close to him, “it’s not like we have to be anywhere, right?”

he played with your hair, “i’m supposed to play a round of golf later.”

“you and golf kill me,” you mumbled, kissing his throat. 

“you could try playing again,” he squeezed your ass roughly, “you’d look so cute in a plaid skirt - i could actually teach you how to swing the right way,” his hands drifted lower to the back of your thighs, “plus i’ve always wanted to fuck on the green.”

you laughed, “this is the fantasy you’re telling me about?”

he shrugged, “i mean, you already made one happen, so why not another?”

you looked down at him, taking in his cute bedhead, “you know we could be fucking right now?”

he nodded, and sighed, “yeah, but i like just hanging out in bed with you too,” he bit his lip gently, watching you. 

“but you’re hard,” you whined softly. 

making puppy eyes at him definitely worked. you found yourself holding onto the headboard, your back pressed to his chest, while you sat on his cock, he thrusted from below, and reached around to play with your clit. you loved how huge he was and how stretched you were. it was maybe the most pleasant way a person could be ripped in half. you were a mewling mess when you came the first time, and practically gasping for air the second time when he finally came too - his cum filling your pussy entirely, dripping down your thighs even. 

it was easy to pass out after, fully knowing he would go play golf and tell everyone you were ‘finally’ dating, as he put it. 

a/n: eeee okay, genuinely hope you like this - i know it's maybe longer than expected but i really liked them ;-;

bingo card master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol: knotting + marking | professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) | monster | spanking (neighbor seungcheol) | big dick + hate sex | forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) | voyeurism + punishment | coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (untitled alpha!!cheol pt. 1) |

mingyu: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles |

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[wonuwonder]

so fucking good

[wonuwonder]

WAIT AN OSCAR FAN??? group therapy sesh in 5mins (no but i actually have an insane amount of delusional hope for him and know he will be successful 😍)

unfortunately I AM, i’m a 8144 enthusiast so it’s been tough💀 i also have the slightest bit of delusional hope left but it really just depends on the las vegas gp soo we’ll see 😭

[wonuwonder]

I haven’t visited your account in a bit but, SINCE WHEN DID YOU GET INTO F1 !?!? 🥹

helloooo, this is probably so so old but i’m just seeing this, i’ve actually always been a fan🫣 since i was little, but i developed an interest in f1 fics earlier this year >< smau in particular are my faves

[tyangdoll]

thinking about intak who loves exhibitionism 😞 he'd get so horny out of nowhere and drag you to any closet/bathroom/empty room to fuck. he'd be so loud, groaning and cursing, only getting louder the more he hears people around him

intak slams into you harder, moans growing louder along with the sounds of party outside of the bathroom. he’s clearly turned on by the risk of possibly being caught like this by anyone around you. “fuck yes!” he exclaims, his face coming close to yours, “take it all, slut!” every word comes with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sink creaking beneath you. the bathroom is small, amplifying every lewd sound, making it impossible for anyone near to not know what was happening. “yes, yes, yes, fuck intak!” you scream out in pleasure as he slaps your ass hard, only adding to the sounds that could be heard even from outside.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he commands, spanking you over and over, then gripping your wrists firmly behind your back. he continues to pound into you relentlessly, the force of his thrusts making your body bounce against the sink. the door opens slightly, intak’s eyes light up, raising his voice to a shout. “pussy’s so good, fuck!” the door opens more but intak is too lost in pleasure to even care, his thrusts not faltering in the slightest, becoming more frantic. “gonna cum, love fucking you here like thi-” he groans loudly with his head thrown back, unable to finish his sentence as he slams into you, holding you in place. you feel his warm seed flooding your cunt as your thighs tremble.

almost out of breath, he quickly takes a photo of the two of you in the mirror, capturing your well-fucked state with dripping sweat, messy hair and flushed cheeks.

[wonuwonder]

sooo i might need more of these

[o2byjunmyeon]

“wonwoo,” you say, not bothering to muffle your yawn. “let's sleep?”

wonwoo's fingers don't stop stroking your arm, and while it gave you tingles the first few minutes he did it, you're ten seconds away from falling asleep right now.

“just a few more pages,” he murmurs, voice warm and velvety. it only makes you sink further into his chest, eyes struggling to stay awake.

“you said that two chapters ago!”

“just one more, and i'm all yours.” he breaks away from the page he's reading to drop a quick kiss to your forehead.

“stop playing dirty,” you grumble, leaning up for another kiss. he obliges, pressing a kiss to your nose this time.

“you're making it a little hard for me to focus, sweetheart.”

“good. that's how it should be.”

wonwoo chuckles. “fine. come here,” he says, leaning down so he's eye level with you. before you can do anything, he presses a kiss to your lips. it's hard to remember anything at the moment when you're surrounded by his warmth and the subtle scent of cologne.

“is that enough to placate you for a while?”

you shake your head. “you drive such unfair bargains, you know that?”

“only when it comes to reading.”

you know how much wonwoo loves reading, and how much he's in his element with a book in his hand. but you can't get over how good he looks—still warm from his shower, hair damp and messily combed with his fingers, and very much smelling like your bodywash. it drives you a little insane, so you settle for holding his free hand and tracing his fingers as you watch him read.

he flips a page. then two. then five. you close your eyes. when you open them, you're not sure you can keep track anymore.

you know wonwoo's not going to snap out of it. suddenly, you get an idea so silly, you wonder why it didn't occur to you before.

“baby,” you say, nudging him.

no response.

you poke his side. “babe.”

“hmm,” he says back, not looking at you.

“nonu. light of my life.”

it works. he turns to you, a smile on his face. “yes, sweetheart?”

“come here?”

he leans down instantly.

you move your hands forward, as if trying to hold his face, but end up plucking his glasses off his face gently. he blinks owlishly at you, eyes no doubt adjusting to the sudden shift to 480p vision.

“who's not playing fair now?” he asks, but you hear a note of amusement in his voice.

“i need you right now, more than you need that book,” you say, setting his glasses on the bedside table.

“oh?” he asks, setting his book aside—finally. “tell me more.”

“not like that, silly. just...want to sleep.”

“then you have me,” he says, slipping under the covers, arms finding you and pulling you closer to him. “however you want.”

[wonuwonder]

cute as fuck i miss my man BAD

[jaysng]

shaving his face | kmg

you offer to shave mingyu’s face for the first time, despite having no idea what you’re doing—and he lets you, all smiles and patience. between messy foam, playful threats, and him trying (and failing) to stay quiet, the slow morning turns soft in all the ways that matter. [wc. 1k]

PAIRING. husband!mingyu x wife!reader

GENRE. fluff

NOTE. come back after god knows how long, hoping that you enjoy this.

“okay. sit. don’t talk. don’t move.”

mingyu raised both brows as he lowered himself onto the small stool in the bathroom, the one you usually kept tucked under the sink. it wobbled slightly under his weight.

“you sure this thing’s safe?”

“well, if it breaks, that’s on you for being massive,” you muttered, grabbing the can of shaving foam and shaking it aggressively.

he smirked, adjusting the towel around his shoulders. “wow. love the support, babe.”

“just shut up,” you said, but you were smiling too.

he obeyed, lips twitching as he pressed them together dramatically and tilted his chin up. he looked ridiculous—bare-faced, sleepy-eyed, hair still damp from his shower, and way too amused for someone about to have a first-timer drag a razor across his face.

you stared at him for a second, holding the razor awkwardly. “you know i’ve never shaved anyone else before, right?”

“mm-hmm,” he hummed.

“like, i know how to shave my legs and stuff, but this is your face. your pretty face. what if i mess up?”

he opened one eye. “you won’t. i trust you.”

you groaned and leaned in to press some foam onto his jaw. “you’re so annoying. why are you always sweet when i’m trying to be mad at you?”

he smiled, lips still sealed, and made a little mmm sound to tease you.

you rolled your eyes and started carefully spreading the foam across his face, moving slowly like it was some kind of art project. the cream coated his jawline and chin easily, but then he opened his mouth slightly to speak—

“stop.”

you pointed the nozzle directly at his lips. “i’m warning you.”

he blinked, then tried to say something again, just to be difficult.

so you squirted a big blob right over his mouth.

“there,” you said proudly. “you talk too much anyway.”

his eyes widened. he made a muffled noise and reached up to wipe it, but you slapped his hand away.

“nope. hands down. let the professional work.”

he laughed through his nose, head tilted back slightly as you brought the razor closer to his face.

you moved slow at first, dragging the blade carefully across his cheek. every tiny scratchy sound made you more nervous, but mingyu didn’t even flinch. he just sat there quietly, eyes flicking up to yours every now and then, like he was studying your face more than he cared about his own.

you paused halfway through and frowned. “do i… go up or down?”

he tapped the counter behind you twice with his fingers — his way of saying ‘down.’

you nodded to yourself. “right. that makes sense. i think.”

he made another sound, like a muffled laugh, but you just wiped more foam on him to shut him up again.

“this is harder than it looks,” you said under your breath. “you have such a big face.”

he pointed to himself proudly. big face, big brain.

you rolled your eyes and kept shaving.

it took longer than you thought. he had a lot of facial hair, and you were being extra careful not to nick him. your hands were a little shaky at first, but eventually, the rhythm settled. foam, razor, wipe. again. again.

at one point, you felt his eyes on you again — really watching you this time — and you glanced at him.

“what?”

he shrugged slightly.

“you’re staring.”

he raised both brows and gestured like you’re cute, duh.

you narrowed your eyes at him. “stop being romantic. i’m holding a blade.”

he smiled through the foam. “mmph.”

finally, you finished the last section on his neck and stepped back, exhaling like you just ran a marathon.

“okay. done. don’t touch anything yet.”

he sat still, eyes curious, while you grabbed a damp cloth and gently wiped the leftover cream from his skin. the towel was warm from the water and smelled like your fabric softener. you could feel the way his skin was smooth now under it, freshly shaved and clean.

he didn’t say anything, just let you wipe his face like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“there,” you said softly. “mission complete.”

he reached up to touch his face and let out a soft, impressed, “woah.”

you blinked. “what? did i miss a spot?”

he grinned. “no. it’s good. really good.”

you looked at him suspiciously. “you’re not just saying that to make me feel better, right?”

he stood up and leaned down to kiss your forehead, hands on your waist. “nope. you actually did a great job.”

you felt yourself smiling as you leaned into his chest. “i was scared the whole time. you’re lucky i love you.”

“i know,” he said, kissing the side of your head. “i could feel the love in every terrified little stroke.”

you smacked his shoulder lightly, laughing. “shut up. go get ready. you’re gonna be late.”

“don’t wanna leave now,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on top of your head. “you just pampered me. feels wrong to go.”

“mingyu.”

“okay, okay,” he sighed, finally pulling away and heading to the bedroom.

you stayed behind to clean up the mess — foam on the sink, water on the floor, the little towel you used to wipe his face. five minutes later, he came back out fully dressed, wearing that navy button-up you loved.

you paused when you saw him. “you look really good.”

he smiled and opened his arms dramatically. “because my amazing wife shaved me.”

you laughed, stepping into his hug again. “yeah, yeah. just don’t let anyone else touch that face today.”

“only you,” he said easily. “always.”

you walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye — once, then again, because he always stole a second one.

“text me when you get there,” you reminded him.

“i will.”

“and don’t skip lunch just ‘cause you’re busy.”

“i won’t.”

you watched him leave, the front door clicking shut behind him, and let out a breath.

quiet mornings like this were your favorite — where nothing big happened, but everything still felt soft and full. shaving cream in your hair, mingyu being annoying in the best way, your little apartment filled with sleepy laughter.

this was marriage.

this was love.

this was yours.

do not copy or repost my work // @ jaysng

[wonuwonder]

SO EFFING CUTEEEE

[cherriicou]

NSFW 18+ MDNI + silly ending // WHAT IF you were wonwoo’s gf and almost got caught during NANA TOUR surprises…

'w-wonu--ngh,' you gasp voice half-moan, as he continues to guide your hips to grind on his cock. your hands are in his hair, tugging, trying to stay strong on top as you ride him.

it was 4 am but tired was beyond the opposite you both felt in this moment. it had been ages since you've been able to have sex during his busy schedule, and now each other's pleasure was all you could think of.

'fuck, you feel so good baby,' he murmurs, voice low as he moves his hands from your hips to your chest. his thick cock is stretching you wide, the wet slap of hips against your ass echo in the room as he fucks you roughly and needily. he's missed you so much.

you both don't hear the small knocks on the door until the lock beeps and clicks open.

your eyes fly open. wonwoo's glasses slide crookedly down his nose as he jolts. you look at each other — eyes wide, breath caught — and panic.

“shit shit shit,” you whisper, frantically scrambling off him and diving under the thick white covers. wonwoo yanks the blanket over you with one hand, rips off his glasses with the other, and dramatically flops back onto the bed, feigning deep sleep.

the door creaks open. and then, that dreaded voice.

"wonu-ah, it's time to go~!”

PD-nim.

you swear under the covers. of course it’s him. of course he brought the cameras. many sets of footsteps shuffle into the room — the loud ones definitely hoshi’s, the ones with fake whispering seungkwan and mingyu.

“you alive?” someone snickers.

“is he naked?”

“looks like he’s hiding something.”

wonwoo lets out a painfully awkward giggle, trying to stretch across the bed, his hand accidentally elbowing your side under the covers. you bite your lip to keep from squealing.

you squeeze your eyes shut under the blanket, holding your breath. the bed dips — someone’s sat down near your feet.

“room’s kinda warm,” mingyu says, fanning his shirt.

“thick blankets, probably,” vernon offers with a small shrug. “looks cozy though.”

“always is,” wonwoo says, rubbing his eyes. his voice is calm, casual — but there’s the tiniest hint of tension.

PD-nim chuckles from behind the camera. “you were sleeping well.”

“yeah, i guess i was really out,” wonwoo murmurs. “didn’t even hear the door.” seungkwan feels your ankle under him and he sighs, this guy..

there’s a small pause as the members glance between each other, reading the moment. it’s subtle — but they know.

still, they keep it moving, light and easy.

“hyung, no way your own magazines are next to your bed,” seungkwan jokes. everyone laughs and starts to plan what room to go to next.

they decide together to go to jun's room but wonwoo signals them to leave and he'll be right out behind them.

PD-nim pans one last shot of the room, then backs up. “alright~ we’re heading to the next room. don’t take too long!”

the door closes.

you don’t move until the footsteps have faded.

then a soft voice, right above the covers: “you okay?”

you peek your head out. wonwoo looks at you, glasses back on, face half amused and half horrified.

“that was... too close,” you whisper.

he nods, exhaling deeply. “they helped. did you notice?”

“not a single weird question. not even a glance,” you say. “but they knew.” he smiles, pulling you into his arms.

buzz

“let us know next time ㅋㅋㅋ"

a/n; hi my lovelies ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა finals are officially over!! im so happi and will be continuing my older!bf seventeen series.. sorry for the long wait but it is comingggg. also i was rewatching NANA tour and thought of this scenario so i wrote it in like 10 minutes lolol

[wonuwonder]

hot as fuck #need #reblogs

[strawberryys-stuff]

UNEXPECTED | OP81

summary: you and Oscar slowly reveal your two-year relationship and the internet loses its mind over it

note: just to clarify, i do NOT hate Lando and Magui's relationship as it's none of my business. i just used the internet's reaction for the smau

ENJOY (pls it was painful to edit 🥲)

oscarpiastri

liked by lando, mclaren, and 389k others

oscarpiastri summer so far 🌞

view comments

username ok am i seeing stuff??

username since when do you paint your nails? 🤨

↳ username lowkey 😭😭

username that is not your hand osc

username 🧡🧡🧡

username who owns a horse?

↳ username gonna surf through his following brb

↳ username1 i have a theory! do u guys know @yourbff? she posts a lot with her best friend yn who isn't rlly active on social media. they live on a farm and each have a horse 👀

↳ username that's.. an interesting theory..

↳ username girl c'mon xD

username enjoy your break osc 🧡

yourbff

liked by yourusername, username, and 13,752 others

yourbff queen is back and so are the vlogss 🎬

view comments

username yess yn is back

username our queens are backk 😍

username when is the vlog coming?

↳ yourbff this weekend! after yn edits it

↳ yourusername you have a laptop too yk?

username can't wait!

username @username1 are those the girls u talked about?

↳ username1 yess, they're incredible ❤️

↳ username but which one is which? 😭

↳ username1 the ginger girl is yn and the blonde one is her bff

↳ username and which one is dating Oscar?

↳ username1 i think it's yn and hear me out ok? the caption says "queen is back" which means yn was away.. maybe in London with Oscar? 👀

↳ username that's crazy

↳ username no way girl 🤣 like NO way

oscarpiastri posted a story!

[caption: I guess I have a child now]

yourusername

liked by yourbff, username, and 2k others

yourusername i am a mother now 🥰

view comments

username she remembered her password! no way!

↳ yourusername i deserved that

username aww what a sweetheart ❤️

yourbff pls post another one next weekend

↳ yourusername no 😊

username1 pls tell me i'm not the only one who sees the caption matching with Oscar

↳ username you are but that's okayy

↳ username i'm kinda starting to see it

↳ username1 thank you! also the last slide?

↳ username could be anyone

↳ username they don't even follow each other

↳ username1 not yet 🤭

yourusername

liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri, username and 4k others

yourusername enjoying life ❤️

view comments

username pretty girl ❤️

username u gotta love Bertha and Fred 🤣

↳ yourusername our icons

yourbff omg Bertha 😭😭

❤️ by yourusername

username do i see Oscar in the likes? 👀

username @username1 why do i feel like your assumptions are lowkey coming true?

↳ username1 haha i told you guys

↳ username i won't believe it until one of them confirms it

↳ username yeah.. we're pretty good at assuming things

username first Lando and Magui and now them?

↳ username Lando and Magui are still fishy af

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, yourusername and 263k others

oscarpiastri great weekend 🏆 ready for another

view comments

username let's goo another P1

username that 1st picture?? HELLO?

mclaren good job! 👏

username this whole post is making my mouth water

↳ username no fr like sir we KNOW you're hot

↳ username we're AWARE of your hotness

username his gf must be lucky

username his back oh lord

username i'm 100% sure his gf told him what pictures to use cus damn

↳ username RIGHT? LIKE WTF

↳ username she def took the middle one

yourusername

liked by yourbff, mclaren, username and 7k others

yourusername Percy's first race 🧡 also congrats @mclaren and @oscarpiastri 🏆

it was lovely to meet you all! and thank you Rosie for the little message 🥰

view comments

mclaren lovely to have you with us 🧡

❤️ by yourusername

username HARD LAUNCH I REPEAT HARD LAUNCH

username1 I TOLD U GUYS

↳ username and we all called u crazy 😭

↳ username no way you were actually right

username well there we have it. the confirmation we wanted lmao

oscarpiastri how did u take that picture?

↳ yourusername with talent and dedication baby 😎

username Lando and Magui could never 🤣

↳ yourusername get out of my comment section

↳ username get 'em girl

yourbff ig my invite got lost in the mail?? 🤨

↳ yourusername don't act like u weren't invited

↳ yourbff BY U NOT BY MCLAREN?!

lando who are you and why haven't we met yet? 🤨

↳ yourusername we did. when i was on facetime with osc that one time

↳ lando wait you're THE girl?

↳ yourusername yes i'm the girl 😭

username she calls him osc 🥹 oh my heart

mclaren

liked by yourusername, username, and 89,752 others

mclaren our favorite duo 🧡

view comments

username manifesting a lando win

↳ lnfour you and me both

username they're icons ur honor

username love the new suits 🧡

↳ mclaren Silverstone edition 🤫

username it's gonna be another 1-2 podium i can see it

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren, username and 4k others

oscarpiastri great race 🏎️ see u next week

yourusername posted a story!

[caption 1: good luck 🧡, caption 2: long day]

yourusername

liked by mclaren, yourbff, username and 2k others

yourusername secured another p1 🧡 u go angel

view comments

username Percyy ❤️

username bring Percy to more races

↳ yourusername can't. he gets overwhelmed by the loud noises but we're working on it 😊

yourbff my babyy look at himm 😩

yourbff miss u

↳ yourusername we miss u 2

username what camera do u use? every Oscar pic is so high quality tf

↳ yourusername i don't own a camera, i use my phone

↳ username your phone?! girlie 🤨

↳ username teach us how omg

oscarpiastri are you trying to become my personal photographer?

↳ yourusername i'm capturing memories osc and your insane beauty

↳ username oh she knows he's handsome 😂

lando hey where are my professional pics? ☹️

↳ yourusername ur payment didn't go through sir

↳ lando Oscar gets it for free and i have to pay?!

↳ username1 in this economy she needs the money

❤️ by yourusername

username @yourusername bless us with more Oscar pics pls. the hot ones

↳ yourusername i gotchu dw

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, username and 3k others

yourusername cursed n blessed 💜

view comments

username love the messages in every post lmao 😭

username i didn't know Oscar was this good with words

↳ username no lowkey same

yourbff that math homework is horrendous

↳ yourusername tell me abt it

username what do u study?

↳ yourusername engineering 🥲

↳ username can u be any more perfect?

↳ username u were made for Oscar

username the bouquets get better every weekend

↳ username *bigger would be a better word for them

↳ yourbff having a rich boyfriend has its benefits

↳ username fr 😭 i want one

↳ yourbff so do i

lando what the hell is that?

↳ yourusername maths

↳ lando ain't no way.. that's death

↳ username close to death yeah

❤️ by yourusername

username whose dog is that?

↳ yourusername my mom's

↳ username he met her parents yall 😭

↳ username so did she

↳ username at the races surely

yourbff

liked by yourusername, username, and 6k others

yourbff on babysitting duty 🩷

view comments

username percyy 🩷

username best babysitter ever

❤️ by yourbff

username where's yn?

↳ username probably with Oscar somewhere

↳ username or she just wanted a break

username 🩷🩷🩷

username those cupcakes look delicious 😋

↳ yourbff they were

yourusername & oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, yourbff, lando and 700k others

yourusername graduated n got married 😜

view comments

username HELLO?? WHAT WHEN HUH

username OMG OMG OMG

username parents 😍

mclaren Congrats Mr. and Mrs. Piastri 🧡

↳ yourusername omg that sounds crazy 😭 thank u admin

lando WHERE

lando WAS

lando MY

lando INVITE

↳ yourusername it probably got lost in the mail

↳ lando PARDON

yourbff AHH

yourbff can't believe you're literally MARRIED.. to an F1 DRIVER

❤️ by oscarpiastri

yourbff what is our life 😭

↳ yourusername chaotic. it'll always be chaotic

f1 congratulations! 🎉 can't wait to see u in the paddock tomorrow

username how many secrets do u guys have?

↳ yourusername a lot my love, a lot

username i can't believe my fav driver got married 😭 to a farmer of all people

↳ username to an engineer too don't forget

username1 HA I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG

❤️ by yourusername

username she got a degree and a husband while i can't get a man to text me back 💀

↳ username same babe

oscarpiastri what else do you have on that list of yours?

↳ yourusername well.. steal osc's last name? ✅ get a dog with osc? ✅ get a degree in engineering to impress osc? ✅ watch osc win wdc? i can check that off atp

↳ oscarpiastri you're a menace. i love it

↳ username u guys are making me sick

↳ username "steal osc's last name?" 😭😭

↳ lando take professional pictures of lando this weekend FOR FREE should be on there

↳ yourusername u won't let it go will u?

↳ lando nope 😁

username they started dating like 2 months ago and are already getting married?

↳ username we don't know how long they've been dating

↳ yourusername 2 months? more like 29

↳ username excuse you? how long?

↳ username 29?! how did we not notice 😭

↳ username u guys are secretive holy shit

username they're such an unexpected combo ngl. he's quiet, she's loud. he races, she lives on a farm. like.. how

↳ username1 that's why it works. they complete each other. she is the color and buzz in his life while he is the calm and quiet she seeks at the end of the day

❤️ by oscarpiastri

[harrysfolklore]

grumpy - op81

summary: oscar is always grumpy, never smiles and claims not to want any friends. yn is determined to crack his armor no matter how much he tries to push her away word count: 8.4k + social media posts

folkie radio: NEW LONG FIC !! i wrote the first bit of this fic a while ago and i picked it up and this was the result, i really hope you like it. let me know your thoughts

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Oscar didn't want to be at this party. The pulsing music, the crowd of unfamiliar faces, and the overwhelming sensory assault of flashing lights and laughter grated on his nerves. He stood in a corner, nursing a drink he hadn't really wanted, wondering how long he needed to stay before he could politely excuse himself.

Lando had been excited about this joint birthday celebration for weeks. He'd explained to Oscar that he'd reconnected with an old childhood friend who, by some cosmic coincidence, shared his exact birthdate. Oscar had been surprised when Lando told him about it; he'd never heard of this friend before. But then again, there was a lot about Lando's life outside of racing that Oscar didn't know.

Oscar's eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face. He spotted Lando in the center of a laughing group, his arm slung casually around a girl Oscar assumed must be the co-host of this ridiculously extravagant party.

He couldn't recall if Lando had ever shown him a picture of this mysterious childhood friend. The invitations Lando had sent out mentioned her name - YN - but Oscar had paid little attention to the details. Racing consumed most of his thoughts, and social events like this were far from his priority list.

The girl standing next to Lando was pretty, Oscar noted absently, with an easy smile that seemed to light up those around her. She laughed at something Lando said, throwing her head back in genuine laughter. Oscar found himself wondering if this was the famed YN, but he couldn't be sure. There were so many people here, and Lando seemed to know them all.

Lost in his observations and internal musings, Oscar didn't notice someone approaching until a voice piped up beside him. "Not much for parties, huh?"

Lost in his observations and internal thoughts, Oscar didn't notice someone approaching until a voice piped up beside him. "Not much for parties, huh?"

He turned to find another girl standing next to him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She was attractive too, he couldn't help but notice, with flowing hair and a smile that seemed genuine rather than the forced pleasantries he was used to at such events.

Oscar shrugged, not particularly in the mood for small talk. "Not really my scene," he replied, his tone cooler than the drink in his hand.

He glanced back at Lando and the girl he was with, then back to the newcomer. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if this might be YN, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Surely, the birthday girl would be at the center of attention, not chatting up grumpy partygoers in the corner.

The girl, not minding his frosty response, leaned against the wall next to him. "I get that. These big bashes can be overwhelming. But hey, the night's still young, right? Maybe it'll grow on you."

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "Doubtful. I'm only here because Lando insisted."

"Oh?" the girl prompted, seeming genuinely interested despite Oscar's clear lack of enthusiasm. "You're friends with Lando then?"

"Teammates," Oscar corrected, taking a sip of his drink. "In Formula 1."

"That must be exciting!" the girl's eyes lit up, "I've always been fascinated by racing. The speed, the strategy, the teamwork… it's like a high-stakes chess game on wheels."

Despite himself, Oscar felt a flicker of interest. It wasn't often he met someone outside the racing world who seemed to genuinely appreciate the sport. But he squashed the feeling, determined to maintain his grumpy demeanor.

"It's just a job," he said flatly. "Not all it's cracked up to be."

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" the girl laughed, the sound warm and melodious. "Do you know the birthday girl, by the way?"

Oscar's frown deepened at the mention of the birthday girl.

"No, and honestly, I couldn't care less," he said bluntly. "I'm just here for Lando. In fact, I'm seriously considering leaving already. This whole thing is just… too much."

The girl's eyebrows raised slightly, but her smile didn't falter. "Oh? What makes you say that?"

Oscar, emboldened by the anonymity he assumed he had with this stranger, decided to let loose. "Where do I even start? First off, this music is atrocious. It's just noise. Who even picked this playlist?"

"Not a fan of pop, I take it?" the girl chuckled, shaking her head.

"Not when it's blasting at eardrum-shattering levels," Oscar grumbled. He gestured around the room. "And look at all these people. Half of them probably don't even know Lando or this girl. It's just a crowd of random people here for the free drinks and the chance to rub elbows with a Formula 1 driver."

The girl nodded, her eyes twinkling with what Oscar failed to recognize as suppressed laughter. "I see. Anything else bothering you?"

Oscar was on a roll now.

"It's probably all because of this other girl who thought it would be a brilliant idea to have a joint birthday party with a Formula 1 driver. I mean, who does that? It's like she's using Lando for the publicity or something, because I've been Lando's teammate for a year and I've never heard of her util now. This whole thing is over the top. The decorations look like a McLaren gift shop exploded in here. And don't get me started on that ridiculous cake I saw earlier."

Throughout Oscar's rant, the girl beside him simply listened, nodding occasionally and biting her lip as if trying not to laugh. When he finally paused for breath, she said, "Wow, you've really given this a lot of thought. It must be tough, being surrounded by all this… excess."

Oscar sighed, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish about his outburst. "I just… I don't get it, you know? Why make such a big deal out of a birthday?"

The girl's smile softened. "Maybe because birthdays are worth celebrating? Especially when you can share them with friends – old and new."

Before Oscar could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise of the party. "YN! There you are! It's time for the cake!"

Oscar's head snapped up to see Lando weaving through the crowd, heading straight for them. His eyes widened as realization dawned, a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief washing over him.

The girl – YN – turned back to Oscar, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Duty calls," she said with a wink. "It was nice chatting with you, Oscar. Thanks for your honest feedback on my terrible music taste, my excessive decorations, and my 'brilliant' idea to share a birthday party with my childhood friend. Maybe next time you're at a party, try to enjoy it a little? You might be surprised."

As YN walked away to join Lando, leaving Oscar rooted to the spot, he couldn't help but feel a wave of mortification wash over him. He had just spent the better part of an hour criticizing various aspects of the party to one of the hosts herself. And not just any host – Lando's childhood friend, the girl whose birthday they were also celebrating.

Oscar watched as YN and Lando made their way to the center of the room, where the enormous cake he had mocked earlier was being wheeled out.

As YN and Lando took their places in front of the extravagant cake, the crowd began to gather around them to sing Happy Birthday. Oscar, still reeling from his embarrassing revelation, found himself shuffling closer to the center of the room, trying to blend in with the crowd.

As the song concluded, Lando stepped forward, raising a hand to quiet the crowd. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice filled with warmth and excitement.

"Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate with us," Lando started, grinning widely. "YN and I have known each other since we were kids, and it's always been a bit of a joke between us that we share a birthday. Who would've thought we'd end up throwing a joint party like this years later?" He paused as the crowd chuckled. "YN, you've been an amazing friend all these years, and I'm so glad we reconnected. Here's to many more birthdays together!"

The crowd applauded as Lando raised his glass in a toast. Then, to Oscar's mounting dread, Lando handed the microphone to YN.

YN took the mic with a smile, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Oscar. He swallowed hard, wondering if she was about to call him out in front of everyone.

"Thanks, Lando," YN began, her voice warm and filled with amusement. "And thank you all for being here tonight. It means so much to see so many familiar faces… and some new ones too." Her eyes twinkled as she glanced at Oscar again. "You know, planning this party was quite an adventure. We wanted to make sure everyone would enjoy themselves… well, almost everyone."

Oscar felt his face grow hot as a few people near him chuckled, clearly not realizing the jab was directed at him.

"And now, let's cut into this 'ridiculous' cake I picked out. After that, feel free to enjoy more of our apparently ear-shattering music. Who knows? It might just grow on you!"

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liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 109,847 others

yourinstagram when you share your birthday with your childhood bestie who happens to be an f1 driver… you go BIG or go home! thank you @/landonorris for the most incredible joint celebration ever! from the "atrocious" music to the "ridiculous" cake, every moment was perfect 😉 and thanks to everyone who came - even those who stayed in the corner judging my party planning skills. here's to another year of chaos!

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username1 SLAAAAY

username2 omg lando celebrated BIG this year

landonorris Best joint birthday ever! Thank you for being one of my best friends ever

charles_leclerc The music was actually great! Don't listen to the haters

username3 I NEED TO PARTY WITH LANDOOOO

username4 imagine being lando's childhood friend and sharing your birthday with him THE DREAM

iamrebeccad That cake was anything but ridiculous! Still dreaming about it 🎂

username6 why do I feel like there's a story behind those quotation marks…

username7 Still can't believe you pulled this off! Best birthday party ever!

username8 there's an inside joke we're missing

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Oscar was making his way through the paddock when he spotted her. YN was chatting with Lando near the McLaren garage, wearing team merchandise and looking completely at ease in an environment that was supposed to be his territory. His stomach did an uncomfortable flip - a reaction he immediately attributed to embarrassment from their last encounter, nothing more.

He quickly turned around, hoping to avoid another interaction. The last thing he needed before qualifying was to be reminded of how he'd made a complete fool of himself at that party. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

"Oscar!" Lando's voice called out. "Come here, mate!"

Oscar suppressed a groan, plastering what he hoped was a neutral expression on his face as he approached them. YN turned to face him, that same amused smile from the party playing on her lips. He hated how his heart skipped a beat - clearly just residual embarrassment, he assured himself.

"Hey, grumpy," she greeted cheerfully. "Ready for qualifying?"

Oscar's jaw tightened. Something about her easy demeanor, the way she seemed so unfazed by their previous interaction, irritated him. Or maybe what really irritated him was how much he'd thought about that interaction over the past two weeks.

"Just focused on the session," he replied curtly, trying to ignore the way her eyes seemed to see right through his cold exterior.

"YN's going to be hanging around this weekend," Lando explained, either oblivious to or ignoring the tension. "I thought it'd be cool to show her around."

Great, Oscar thought. Just what he needed - another distraction. He'd caught himself checking her Instagram more times than he cared to admit since the party, telling himself he was just curious about what she'd posted about that night. The fact that he'd spent an embarrassing amount of time looking at her other photos was something he refused to analyze.

"How exciting," Oscar deadpanned. "The glamorous world of Formula 1. I'm sure you'll love all the noise and chaos."

YN's smile didn't falter. "Oh, I don't mind noise when it has a purpose. Race car engines are quite different from 'atrocious' party music, wouldn't you agree?"

Oscar felt his cheeks warm at the reference to his party complaints. The memory of that night had been replaying in his head for two weeks - how she'd stood there letting him rant, those knowing eyes twinkling with amusement. How different would things have been if he'd known who she was from the start? Would he have actually tried to enjoy himself? Would he not think about his ex for half of the night?

Because that was his reality, he thought about his ex more than he cared to admit that he did.

"I should go prepare for qualifying," he muttered, turning to leave, trying to escape both her presence and his confusing thoughts.

"Wait," YN called after him. "I actually wanted to apologize."

This made Oscar pause, turning back with a confused frown. "Apologize?" His heart was doing that annoying skipping thing again.

"Yes," she nodded. "I should have introduced myself properly at the party instead of letting you vent. It was a bit mean to let you go on like that without telling you who I was."

Her sincerity caught him off guard. He'd spent two weeks convinced she must think he was a complete jerk, and here she was apologizing to him? It didn't make sense. None of this made sense - including the way his pulse quickened when she smiled at him.

"Right. Well, no harm done. If you'll excuse me…" He needed to get away. Now. Before these unwanted feelings got any more confused.

"I made you a playlist," YN continued, her eyes twinkling. "All non-atrocious songs, I promise. Thought it might help with your pre-race preparation."

She held out her phone, showing a Spotify playlist titled "For Grumpy F1 Drivers Who Hate Fun." The fact that she'd taken the time to make him a playlist, even as a joke, did something strange to his chest.

Lando burst out laughing. "Oh mate, she's got you there!"

Oscar stared at the playlist, his expression hardening. The championship battle was too tight, the pressure too intense for these kinds of distractions. They were so close to securing the constructor's championship. He couldn't afford to let anything break his focus, especially not some girl who seemed determined to get under his skin.

"I don't need a playlist," he said, his voice sharper than before. "What I need is to focus on qualifying. We're fighting for a championship here. This isn't some game."

YN's smile faltered slightly, but she maintained her composure. "Right, of course. The championship."

"Yeah, the championship," Oscar continued, his tone cold and professional. "Something that requires actual focus and dedication, not parties and playlists. So if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Oscar, mate," Lando started, looking uncomfortable, but Oscar cut him off.

"No, Lando. You might be comfortable mixing your personal life with racing, but I'm not. I'm here to win, not to socialize." He turned to YN, his expression neutral but his eyes hard. "Enjoy your weekend at the track."

He turned and walked away, his steps quick and purposeful. Behind him, he could hear Lando apologizing to YN, but he forced himself not to care.

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Oscar sat on the edge of his hotel bed, his phone illuminated with photos he should have deleted months ago. Lily's smile beamed back at him through the screen - holidays in Melbourne, race weekends, quiet moments at home. Four years of memories he couldn't seem to let go of.

"This is pathetic," he muttered, tossing his phone aside. The Vegas skyline glittered beyond his window, a stark contrast to his dark mood. The text from Lando about the drivers' party at some upscale club sat unanswered on his phone.

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling the familiar weight of loneliness settle in his chest. Lily had ended things right before the season started, claiming she couldn't handle the distance anymore. The truth was, she'd found someone else - someone who wasn't away racing cars most of the year.

The thought of sitting alone in his hotel room on a Saturday night in Las Vegas, scrolling through old photos of his ex, made him cringe. Even Alex, who usually preferred quiet nights after races, was going to the party.

"Fuck it," he declared to his empty room, standing up abruptly. He'd rather feel uncomfortable at a party than feel sorry for himself.

The club was exactly as he expected - loud, crowded, and dripping with excess. He spotted several drivers immediately: Lewis holding court in a VIP section, Max and Kelly laughing with Charles, Alex and George arguing about something while Franco watched in amusement.

Then he saw her. YN was wearing a silver dress that caught the light, making her look like she belonged among the glittering Vegas lights. She was chatting with Lando and Carlos, her head thrown back in laughter at something Carlos had said.

Oscar ordered a drink and found a quiet corner, trying to ignore the way his eyes kept drifting back to her. Their last interaction in the paddock hadn't been great - he'd been cold, dismissive. Yet here she was, seemingly unbothered, lighting up the room with that easy smile of hers.

"Didn't expect to see you here," her voice suddenly came from beside him. He hadn't noticed her approach.

"I live to surprise," he replied flatly, taking a sip of his drink.

YN leaned against the wall next to him, mirroring their positions from her birthday party. "You look about as thrilled to be here as you did at my party."

"If you've come to mock me again-"

"I haven't," she cut him off, her voice gentle. "I actually came to see if you're okay. You seem… different tonight."

Oscar tensed. Was he that transparent? "I'm fine."

"You know, it's okay not to be okay sometimes," she said softly. "Even Formula 1 drivers are allowed to have bad days."

He looked at her then, really looked at her. There was no trace of mockery in her expression, just genuine concern. It made something in his chest ache.

"I don't need your pity," he said, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

"Good, because I'm not offering any," YN replied. "I'm offering friendship. Or at least a dance partner who won't judge your moves too harshly."

Despite himself, Oscar felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "My moves are fine."

"Prove it then," she challenged, pushing off the wall and holding out her hand.

Oscar stared at her outstretched hand, feeling the weight of his phone in his pocket - the one still full of photos of Lily. He thought about his empty hotel room, about scrolling through memories of a relationship that was long over.

"I don't dance," he said finally, his tone cooling again. "And I'm not interested in whatever this is."

YN's hand dropped slowly, but her eyes remained kind. "Okay," she said simply. "But if you change your mind about either - the dancing or the friendship - I'll be around."

She turned to leave, pausing only to add, "You deserve to be happy, Oscar. Even if you don't believe it right now."

Oscar watched her disappear into the crowd, his drink suddenly tasting bitter in his mouth. He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over his photo gallery. After a moment's hesitation, he opened his settings instead.

"Delete all photos?" the prompt asked.

He pressed yes before he could change his mind.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

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liked by username1, username2 and 12,958 others

f1gossip SWIPE to see Lily Zneimer (Oscar Piastri's ex) hard-launching her new relationship! 👀 After 4 years with the McLaren driver, she's officially moved on. Lily shared multiple pics on her Instagram with the caption "Finally found my perfect match ❤️"

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username1 the way she waited until oscar had a good race weekend to post this… calculated af 💀

username2 "perfect match" girl you dated an f1 driver… downgrade much?

username3 anyone else notice she limited her comments? 👀 guilty conscience maybe??

username4 oscar deserves better anyway, he's so focused this season!

username5 well this explains why oscar's been in his villain era all season

username6 her loss tbh oscar's having his best season yet

username7 the way she's trying to make it seem like they just met… girl we all saw you commenting on his posts since last year 🙄

username8 imagine breaking up with oscar piastri… couldn't be me

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The Monaco streets were quieter than usual at 6 AM, which was exactly why Oscar had chosen this time for his run. His feet pounded against the pavement in rhythm with the aggressive beats flooding his headphones, trying to drown out the thoughts of Lily's Instagram post that had been haunting him since last night.

Perfect match. The words echoed in his head, mocking him. Four years, and she'd replaced him so easily.

He pushed himself harder, taking the hill towards Casino Square at a punishing pace. The physical exertion wasn't enough to quiet his mind, but at least-

"Oscar!"

He ignored the voice, assuming it was meant for someone else.

"Oscar! Hey!"

The voice was closer now. Persistent. Familiar. He yanked out one earbud, turning around with an irritated scowl that only deepened when he saw who it was. YN was jogging towards him, wearing running gear and looking annoyingly fresh despite the steep incline.

"What the fuck?" he snapped when she caught up. "Are you following me now?"

YN raised an eyebrow, barely winded. "Don't flatter yourself, Piastri. I was already running when I spotted you."

"You don't even live here." His heart was racing, and he told himself it was just from the run.

"Staying with Lando," she shrugged, falling into step beside him despite his obvious displeasure. "He's got a spare room."

Oscar stopped abruptly, turning to face her. The morning sun caught her face in a way that made her eyes look impossibly bright. He pushed that observation away immediately. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Running?"

"This," he gestured between them, frustration evident in his voice. "Being… nice. Showing up everywhere. Trying to talk to me. I don't like you, okay? I don't want to be friends. I don't want whatever this is."

YN studied him for a moment, completely unfazed by his hostility. "You know, for someone who doesn't like me, you spend an awful lot of energy trying to convince me of that fact."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she said, stretching her arms above her head casually, "that if you really didn't like me, you wouldn't care enough to tell me repeatedly. You'd just ignore me."

The logic in her statement irritated him more than her presence. She had a point, but he'd rather run up this hill ten more times than admit it.

"I prefer running alone," he said flatly, trying to ignore how his stomach did a weird flip when she smiled at him.

"Cool. Me too, usually." She grinned. "But sometimes life throws you unexpected running partners. Kind of like unexpected friendships."

"We're not friends."

"Not yet," she agreed cheerfully. "Race you to the casino?"

Before he could protest, she took off up the hill, her ponytail swinging with each stride. Oscar stood there for a moment, torn between irritation and something else he refused to name. The morning light cast long shadows across the street, and he watched her figure getting smaller as she climbed the hill.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, but his feet were already moving, chasing after her up the winding street.

He told himself it was just his competitive nature, that he couldn't let her win. It had nothing to do with how her presence somehow made his chest feel lighter, or how the morning felt less lonely with her there.

They reached Casino Square nearly neck and neck, both breathing hard. The square was empty except for a few early morning workers, the famous casino building looming above them in the soft morning light.

"Not bad, Piastri," YN panted, hands on her knees. "But I totally had you on that last corner."

"You cut me off," he accused, trying to catch his breath.

"Did not! I took the racing line," she grinned, mimicking his Australian accent on the last two words.

Despite himself, a laugh escaped Oscar's lips before he could stop it.

YN's eyes lit up triumphantly. "There! You laughed!" She pointed at him accusingly. "You actually laughed! Quick, someone alert the press - Oscar Piastri has emotions other than grumpy and grumpier!"

Oscar immediately tried to school his features back into their usual scowl, but he could feel the corners of his mouth fighting to turn upward. "Shut up," he muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

"Make me," she challenged, starting to jog backwards. "Come on, one more lap around Monaco? Unless you're scared I'll beat you again…"

Oscar felt something shift in his chest, a crack in the walls he'd built so carefully. He blamed it on the endorphins from running, on the early morning air, on anything but the way her smile made him want to smile back.

"In your dreams," he called out, already moving to chase after her.

And if he was smiling as they ran through the empty streets of Monaco, well, there was no one else around to see it anyway.

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YN burst through Lando's front door, still riding the runner's high from her morning excursion. She found him in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and hunched over a cup of coffee, his hair sticking up in every direction.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

"Why are you so… awake?" Lando groaned, squinting at her. "It's inhuman."

"Guess who I ran into?" She hopped onto the kitchen counter, grinning. "Your grumpy teammate. And - wait for it - I actually made him laugh!"

Lando's spoon clattered against his mug. "Oscar? Laughed?"

"I know, right? I mean, it was more like a surprised laugh that he tried to take back immediately, but still. Progress!" She took a long drink of water. "I don't get why he's so… intense all the time. Like, I know F1 drivers are serious, but he takes it to another level."

Lando's expression shifted, something like concern crossing his face. "Ah, right. You don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"About the breakup."

YN stopped mid-sip. "Breakup?"

Lando set his coffee down, suddenly looking more awake. "His girlfriend - well, ex-girlfriend now - Lily. They were together for four years. She ended things right before the season started."

"Oh," YN said quietly, her earlier enthusiasm deflating. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, it was…" Lando ran a hand through his already messy hair. "It was pretty rough. They had this whole life planned out, you know? She moved to Monaco for him when he got the McLaren seat. They were talking about getting married eventually."

"What happened?"

"She met someone else," Lando said grimly. "Some business guy in Sydney or something. Oscar found out when he got back from winter training. She'd already moved her stuff out."

YN felt her stomach sink. "That's horrible."

"Yeah. And the worst part? She posted about her new relationship yesterday. All these loved-up photos, calling the guy her 'perfect match' and everything." Lando shook his head. "Oscar saw it last night. That's probably why he was out running so early."

"Shit," YN whispered, remembering how she'd teased him about being grumpy. "I feel awful now. I've been giving him such a hard time about being antisocial."

"You didn't know," Lando assured her. "And honestly? You getting him to laugh is kind of huge. He's been… different since it happened. Throws himself into racing, barely socializes. The only time I see him smile is on podiums."

YN thought about Oscar's surprised laugh in Casino Square, how quickly he'd tried to hide it. "Four years is a long time."

"Yeah," Lando agreed. "And they were good together, you know? Or we all thought they were. She was at every race, knew everyone in the paddock. When she left…" He trailed off, taking a sip of coffee. "Let's just say there's a reason he keeps people at arm's length now."

YN slid off the counter, her earlier victory feeling hollow now. "I should probably back off then. Give him space."

Lando looked at her thoughtfully. "Actually… maybe don't?"

"What?"

"It's just…" Lando set his mug down, choosing his words carefully. "That was the first time you've mentioned him laughing since January. Maybe what he needs isn't more space. Maybe he needs someone who won't let him push them away."

YN thought about Oscar's determined scowl that morning, how it had softened just slightly when she'd challenged him to another lap. "I don't know, Lando…"

"Just… be yourself," Lando suggested. "You've already cracked the grumpy exterior once. And Oscar… he's a good guy. He just needs to remember there's more to life than proving his ex wrong."

YN nodded slowly, her mind going back to their morning run. She thought about the way Oscar had tried not to smile, how his eyes had lit up during their race to the casino despite his best efforts to remain stoic.

"Okay," she said finally. "But if he murders me for being annoying, I'm haunting you first."

Lando grinned. "Deal. Now please tell me you're making those pancakes you promised yesterday."

"Only if you tell me more about this grumpy teammate of yours."

"Oh, I've got stories," Lando laughed. "Let me tell you about the time he got lost in Singapore…"

As YN moved around Lando's kitchen gathering pancake ingredients, she couldn't help but think about Oscar, wondering if he was still running through the streets of Monaco, trying to outrun memories of a relationship that had shaped the last four years of his life.

She understood his coldness better now, but somehow, that only made her more determined to break through it.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,983 others

f1gossip SPOTTED: Oscar Piastri jogging around Monaco with mysterious girl ! Sources say they were laughing and racing each other around 👀

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username1 OHHHH

username2 WHO IS THIS

username3 oscar healing era we love to see it

username4 isn't this lando's friend? the one he shares the same bday with

userame5 THIS IS YNNNN lando's bday twin

username6 OSC BOYFRIEND ERA AGAIN??

username7 cry lily zneimer

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Oscar stared at his phone screen, the message he'd sent to Lily still showing just one gray checkmark. Not delivered. He'd blocked her months ago, but last night, in a moment of weakness (and perhaps too much room service wine), he'd unblocked her number.

"I hope you're happy," he'd texted. Four simple words that made him feel pathetic now in the harsh light of day.

Of course she'd changed her number. Of course she hadn't responded. What had he expected? That she'd suddenly remember all their plans, their shared dreams, their life in Monaco? That she'd realize her Sydney finance dude wasn't her "perfect match" after all?

He tossed his phone onto the hotel bed, disgusted with himself. Four years of his life, and here he was, still orbiting around her like a satellite that didn't know its planet had disappeared. The worst part was, he wasn't even sure if he still loved her or if he was just haunted by the future they'd planned.

The Qatar paddock was already buzzing with activity when he arrived, the air conditioning doing little to combat the oppressive heat. He had an engineering briefing in ten minutes, and he needed to focus on the race weekend, not on unanswered texts to ex-girlfriends.

Then he spotted her. YN was chatting animatedly with Carlos near the Ferrari garage, wearing a McLaren team shirt that he suspected was Lando's. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she was gesturing enthusiastically about something, making Carlos laugh. She looked so at ease, so comfortable in this world that had taken him years to navigate.

Oscar immediately turned around, hoping to duck into the McLaren hospitality without being noticed.

"Oscar!"

No such luck.

He kept walking, pretending he hadn't heard her. The sound of quick footsteps behind him told him his escape attempt had failed.

"Hey, grumpy!" YN fell into step beside him, seemingly unbothered by his obvious attempt to avoid her. "Still maintaining your daily scowl quota, I see."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" he asked coldly, not slowing his pace.

"Probably. But bothering you is much more fun." She grinned, matching his stride effortlessly. "You know, most people say good morning when they see someone."

"I'm not most people. We're not anything."

"Still stuck on that 'we're not friends' thing? Even after our romantic morning run in Monaco?"

He tensed, acutely aware of the heads turning in their direction. Since their morning run in Monaco, social media had been buzzing with speculation. F1 fan accounts had somehow gotten hold of a blurry photo of them running through Casino Square, and the paddock rumor mill had been working overtime. The last thing he needed was more fuel for those fires, especially not when his embarrassing text to Lily was still fresh in his mind.

"Stop," he cut her off, pulling them both to a halt in a quieter section of the paddock. "This needs to stop."

"What needs to stop?"

"This. You. Being everywhere." His voice was low, controlled, but inside he was a mess of conflicting emotions. The ghost of his unanswered text message haunted him, making him feel vulnerable and defensive. "People are talking. They saw us in Monaco."

YN's smile faltered slightly, but her eyes remained kind. "And? We went for a run. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime."

"You don't get it," he said, frustration seeping into his tone. "I don't need this right now. I don't need people speculating or making assumptions." I don't need to feel things I'm not ready to feel, he added silently.

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Are you afraid your ex might see?"

The question hit too close to home, especially after his pathetic attempt at reaching out to Lily. His jaw clenched. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know you're letting someone who left you control your life," YN said quietly, her words cutting through his defenses with surgical precision. "I know you're so afraid of getting hurt again that you'd rather push everyone away."

"Don't," he warned, his voice sharp. "You don't get to analyze me. You don't get to act like you understand anything about my life just because Lando told you some story." The fact that she could read him so easily only made him more defensive.

"I'm not-"

"We're not friends," he continued, his words precise and cutting. "That morning in Monaco was a mistake. I was…" Vulnerable, lonely, weak. "…it doesn't matter. Just stay away from me."

He turned to leave, his phone feeling like a lead weight in his pocket, the unanswered text message a reminder of everything he was trying to forget.

"You know what I think?" YN called after him, her voice carrying across the paddock. "I think you're not actually afraid of what she might see. I think you're afraid of what might happen if you stop letting her ghost rule your life. And you know what the saddest part is? You're so focused on pushing people away, you don't even notice who's trying to stay."

Oscar didn't turn around, but his shoulders tensed. Her words hit home with devastating accuracy, making his chest tight. Without another word, he walked away, leaving YN standing alone in the sweltering Qatar heat.

But as he headed into the briefing, YN's words kept playing in his mind: "You're so focused on pushing people away, you don't even notice who's trying to stay."

The worst part was, he was starting to wonder if she was right.

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The private jet hummed quietly as they crossed over Saudi airspace. Oscar kept fidgeting with his phone, refreshing Instagram for the tenth time in as many minutes. Another photo of Lily, another glimpse of her perfect new life without him.

"If you stare at that screen any harder, it might actually burst into flames," YN's voice cut through his thoughts.

Oscar locked his phone quickly, jaw tightening. "Mind your own business."

From across the aisle, Lando pretended to be absorbed in his game, but Oscar could see him watching their interaction from the corner of his eye.

"Want to talk about it?" YN asked softly, closing her book.

"No."

"Want to keep brooding dramatically while pretending you're not stalking your ex's Instagram?"

Oscar's head snapped up. "I'm not-"

"You've refreshed that page twelve times in the last hour. I've been counting."

"Why are you even watching me?"

"Hard not to when you're sighing like a sad protagonist in a period drama."

Despite himself, Oscar felt the corner of his mouth twitch. YN caught it immediately.

"Was that almost a smile? Quick, Lando, document this rare occurrence!"

"Leave me out of this," Lando mumbled, though he was clearly fighting back a grin.

Oscar tried to maintain his scowl, but YN's theatrical gasping was making it difficult. "You're ridiculous."

"And you," she pointed at him, "are coming out with me tomorrow night."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you need to get out of your hotel room, and I know for a fact you don't have any plans besides rewatching her stories and making yourself miserable."

"I don't-"

"You know what?" YN continued, leaning forward in her seat. "We're going to that new rooftop bar at the W. You're going to wear something that isn't team gear, you're going to have at least two drinks, and you're going to remember what it's like to actually enjoy yourself."

"And if I say no?"

"You won't," she said confidently. "Because deep down, you know I'm right. Also, I've already told Lando he's coming too."

"Traitor," Oscar muttered at his teammate.

Lando shrugged. "She's very persuasive. Also, slightly terrifying."

"So?" YN raised an eyebrow at Oscar. "What's it going to be? Another night of Instagram stalking, or actually living your life?"

Oscar looked between her determined face and his phone, still dark in his hand. The thought of another night alone with his thoughts was suddenly exhausting.

"Fine," he said finally. "But I'm not dancing."

"We'll see about that," YN grinned triumphantly. "Now, hand over your phone."

"What? No."

"Yes. Consider it confiscated until we land. Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"No, but I am your friend, whether you like it or not. Phone. Now."

Maybe it was the altitude, or the way she said 'friend' so matter-of-factly, or just the sheer exhaustion of maintaining his walls, but Oscar found himself holding out his phone.

"Just until we land," he warned.

"Of course," YN agreed, tucking it into her bag. "Now, want to hear about the time I accidentally locked Lando in his own garage?"

"That was YOU?" Lando's head shot up from his game.

"In my defense, I thought you were already at the track…"

As YN launched into the story, Oscar felt something in his chest loosen slightly. He wasn't ready to admit it yet, but maybe - just maybe - she had a point about living his life again.

"…and that's why Lando now triple-checks every door before closing it," YN finished, making Lando groan.

"I knew it wasn't a 'random malfunction,'" he accused.

Oscar found himself actually laughing, the sound surprising even himself.

"There it is," YN said softly, her eyes meeting his. "That's the guy I'm taking out tomorrow night."

And for once, Oscar didn't argue.

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texts between lando and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Oscar stood in front of his hotel mirror, already regretting the black button-down shirt he'd chosen. His phone buzzed with a message from Lando: "Sorry mate, stomach's not great. Going to skip tonight. You two have fun ;)"

The winky face made Oscar's jaw clench. He immediately typed back: "Not going if you're not."

Lando's reply was instant: "Yes you are. YN will murder me if you bail."

As if on cue, there was a knock at his door. Oscar considered pretending he wasn't in, but-

"I can hear you overthinking from out here, Piastri!" YN's voice carried through the door. "Open up!"

Sighing, he opened the door to find her leaning against the frame, wearing a simple black dress that made him suddenly very aware of his heartbeat.

"Lando's not coming," he said immediately.

"I know, he texted me." She stepped into his room uninvited. "We're still going."

"I don't think-"

"Nope," she cut him off. "You're not bailing. You're dressed, you look nice, and I'm not letting you spend another night hiding in your room."

"I don't hide-"

"Your Instagram search history would disagree." She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. "Come on, one drink. If you're still miserable after that, you can come back and brood in peace."

Something about the way she said it - teasing but kind - made it hard to argue. "One drink," he conceded.

The rooftop bar at the W was busy but not crowded, the Abu Dhabi skyline glittering around them. They found a quiet corner with a view of the water.

"See? Not so terrible," YN said, sliding into her seat.

Oscar had to admit the view was spectacular. "It's alright."

"Such high praise! Should I alert the media?"

He tried to maintain his scowl but failed. "You're impossible."

"Yet here you are," she grinned. "Now, what are you drinking?"

Two hours later, they were walking along the waterfront, their earlier drinks having taken the edge off Oscar's usual guardedness. The night air was warm but pleasant, and the city lights reflected off the water like stars.

"No way," Oscar laughed - actually laughed - at YN's story. "You did not steal Lando's car."

"I didn't steal it! I borrowed it. There's a difference."

Oscar shook his head, still chuckling. "You're chaos."

"Better than being predictable," she shrugged, bumping his shoulder playfully. "Speaking of which, you know what I noticed?"

"What?"

"You haven't checked your phone once tonight."

Oscar realized she was right. He hadn't even thought about Lily since they'd left the hotel. "I guess I was… distracted."

"By my sparkling personality and amazing stories?"

"By your criminal tendencies, apparently."

YN stopped walking, turning to face him. "You know what else I noticed?"

"What?"

"You're smiling. Like, actually smiling. Not that fake media smile you do, but a real one."

Oscar felt his defenses start to rise, but YN continued before he could retreat.

"And the world didn't end," she said softly. "You had fun, you laughed, and somehow life went on."

He looked out at the water, processing her words. "It's not… it's not that simple."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "But it's a start." She turned to face the water too, standing close enough that their arms brushed. "You know what your problem is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"You're so afraid of getting hurt again that you're missing out on all the good stuff. The random nights like this, the unexpected friendships, the moments that make life worth living."

Oscar was quiet for a moment. "I thought I had all that figured out," he finally said. "The whole future planned."

"And now?"

"Now…" he looked at her, really looked at her, illuminated by the city lights. "Now I don't know anything anymore."

"Good," she smiled. "That's where all the best stories start." She pulled out her phone, checking the time. "Come on, one more stop before I return you to your cave of solitude."

"Where?"

"There's a gelato place around the corner that's still open. And before you say no, just remember - I've already seen you smile tonight. Your reputation is already ruined."

Oscar found himself following her without argument, watching as she practically bounced down the sidewalk, chattering about the best gelato flavors. He thought about what she'd said about missing out on the good stuff.

Maybe, just maybe, she had a point.

"Hey YN?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. For… you know."

She turned back to him, her smile soft. "I know." Then, because she was YN, she added, "But if you try to go back to being grumpy tomorrow, I'm telling everyone about how you sang along to Taylor Swift in the bar."

"I did not-"

"The security cameras would disagree!"

Their laughter echoed off the buildings, mixing with the sounds of the city, and for the first time in months, Oscar felt like maybe, just maybe, there was life after Lily after all.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, lilyhme and 102,648 others

yourinstagram turns out mr grumpy does know how to smile 😌 (he's gonna kill me for posting this last pic but it was worth it)

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username1 AWE THIS???

username2 weird plot twist but i love it

username3 YN AND OSCAR???

landonorris my stomach miraculously feels better seeing this 😇

↳ oscarpiastri I trusted you norris

↳ landonorris you'll thank me later mate

↳ username1 is there an inside joke we’re missing?

alex_albon WHO IS THIS MAN AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH OSCAR

↳ oscarpiastri Delete this immediately

↳ yourinstagram no ❤️

↳ username2 WHATS GOING ON

yourinstagram for someone who "hates" this post you sure are commenting a lot @/oscarpiastri

↳ oscarpiastri ...i know where you live

↳ yourinstagram no you don't

↳ oscarpiastri Lando does

↳ landonorris leave me out of this 😂

username4 hear me out… oscar and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The McLaren garage had erupted into absolute chaos the moment Lando and Oscar crossed the finish line, securing the Constructors' Championship for the team. Zak was crying, Andrea was hugging everyone in sight, and Lando had already lost his voice from screaming.

Oscar's head was buzzing pleasantly from the multiple champagne showers and whatever drinks had been pressed into his hands during the celebrations. His race suit was stained and sticky, his hair a mess, but he couldn't stop grinning.

"WORLD CHAMPIONS!" Lando screamed for the hundredth time, jumping on Oscar's back.

Through the crowd of celebrating team members, Oscar spotted YN chatting with some of the engineers. She was wearing a McLaren shirt (definitely stolen from Lando's collection) and had champagne dripping from her hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the high of winning, or just the way she'd been beaming at him from the pit wall when he crossed the finish line, but Oscar found himself moving through the crowd toward her.

"YN!"

She turned, her smile growing wider. "Well, if it isn't the man of the hour-"

Before she could finish, Oscar had wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her slightly off the ground. YN froze for a moment, clearly shocked by this uncharacteristic display of affection from him.

"Oh my god," she laughed, hugging him back. "Are you drunk or just really happy?"

"Both," he admitted into her hair, still not letting go. "We did it."

"You did it," she corrected, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Though I have to say, I'm a little concerned. First you're smiling in public, now you're initiating hugs? Who are you and what have you done with Oscar Piastri?"

"Shut up," he grinned, finally releasing her. "I'm allowed to be happy today."

"Quick, someone record this! The evidence that Oscar Piastri has emotions!"

"I take it back, I hate you again."

"No you don't," she sing-songed, poking his cheek. "You just hugged me in front of the entire paddock. Your reputation is ruined forever."

Oscar's eyes widened slightly as he looked around, suddenly aware of the knowing looks and smirks from nearby team members. Lando was practically vibrating with glee.

"I can still blame the champagne," he muttered.

"Sure you can," YN patted his cheek condescendingly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, champ."

"I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Not a chance. I'm having this moment framed. 'The Day Oscar Piastri Showed Human Emotion: A Historical Event.'"

Despite himself, Oscar laughed. "You're impossible."

"Yet you hugged me anyway," she grinned triumphantly. "Face it, Piastri, you actually like having me around."

Maybe it was the champagne, or the victory high, or just the way her eyes were sparkling with mischief, but Oscar found himself saying, "Yeah, maybe I do."

YN's teasing smile softened into something more genuine. "Careful there, that almost sounded like admitting we're friends."

"Don't push it."

"Too late!" She called out to the garage. "Hey everyone! Oscar just said-"

Oscar quickly covered her mouth with his hand, both of them laughing now. "You're the worst."

She licked his palm, making him snatch his hand back. "And you love it."

Before he could respond, Lando crashed into both of them, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. "GROUP HUG! WORLD CHAMPIONS!"

As more team members joined the huddle, Oscar found himself pressed close to YN again. She caught his eye and mouthed "softie" at him with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't stop smiling. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did like having her around.

But he was definitely blaming the champagne for that hug.

(He wasn't.)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 104,759 others

yourinstagram to the boy who "doesn't smile" and the guy who "never shuts up" - you just made history. beyond proud to watch you two achieve this. thank you for letting me be a small part of the journey (even when one of you claimed to hate me 😌)

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username1 MCLAREN CHAMPIONSSS

username2 AHHH HAPPY OSC

landonorris MY FAVOURITE HUMAN ❤️

↳ oscarpiastri Excuse me?

↳ landonorris …my favourite humans*

↳ username1 THIS TRIO

username3 the grumpy one and the chaotic one

username4 I SHIP OSCAR AND YN

username5 she's lando's coolest friend

oscarpiastri Never hated you btw

↳ yourinstagram i know, you were just a grumpy boyy

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lily and oscar

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The McLaren Technology Centre had been transformed for the end-of-year celebration. Music thrummed through the usually pristine halls, and fairy lights twinkled everywhere. YN was nursing her second glass of champagne, watching Lando attempt to convince Zak to try some viral TikTok dance.

She found herself on one of the balconies overlooking the lake, enjoying the crisp December air. The door clicked behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know who it was – she'd recognize those footsteps anywhere.

"Escaping your own party, world champion?"

Oscar leaned against the railing beside her. "Needed some air."

"Too many people trying to hug you?" she teased. "I know how you hate showing emotion in public. Though after that champagne shower in Abu Dhabi…"

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Never," she grinned. "It's my favorite memory. The day Oscar Piastri admitted he had feelings."

He was quiet for a moment, fidgeting with his glass. "Speaking of feelings…"

"Ooh, are we having a heart-to-heart? Should I record this rare moment?"

"Lily texted me." He blurted it out almost defensively.

YN's smile faltered for a split second before returning. "Oh! That's… that's great! You must be over the moon. I mean, you've been waiting for her to-"

"I blocked her number."

"You… what?"

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she'd come to recognize. "She wanted to meet for coffee, talk about getting back together, but I just… I couldn't."

"Why not?" YN asked softly, even as her heart picked up speed.

"Because I think I'm falling for someone else," he said in a rush. "Have been for months, actually. Someone who never gave up on me even when I was being an absolute dick. Someone who somehow got past all my walls and made me laugh again. Someone who steals Lando's hoodies and makes terrible puns and calls me out on my bullshit and-"

She kissed him.

It wasn't a grand, dramatic kiss like in the movies. It was soft, quick, almost shy – but it shut him up immediately.

She pulled back, watching his stunned expression with amusement. "I always liked you, you idiot. You were just too busy being grumpy to notice."

"I… what?"

"The guy I've been telling Lando about for months? The one he keeps teasing me about? That's you, dummy."

"But you're always making fun of me!"

"Because you're cute when you're flustered! And it was the only way to get you to actually interact with me at first."

Oscar stared at her, processing. "So all those times you were 'accidentally' showing up wherever I was…"

"Lando might have helped with that," she admitted. "Though in my defense, you were being very stubborn about the whole 'I don't need friends' thing."

"I was an idiot, wasn't I?"

"The biggest," she agreed cheerfully. "But you're my idiot now. If you want to be, that is."

Instead of answering, Oscar pulled her closer and kissed her properly this time. She could feel him smiling against her lips.

"Finally!" Lando's voice made them jump apart. He was standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. "Do you know how exhausting it's been watching you two dance around each other?"

"How long have you been standing there?" YN asked.

"Long enough to know I was right all along," he beamed. "My best friends are in love!"

Oscar groaned. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

"Never ever," Lando confirmed cheerfully. "Now come on, there's a party inside and I want to see everyone's faces when they find out!"

YN turned back to Oscar, who looked like he was contemplating murder. "Well, at least we don't have to worry about how to tell everyone?"

"I'm going to kill him."

"No, you're not," she said, pulling him closer. "You're going to kiss me again, and then we're going to go inside and face the music together."

"Or," he suggested, "we could stay here and kiss some more."

"Look who's being soft now," she teased.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

So he did.

(Inside, Lando was already planning how to work this into his best man speech – not that he'd tell them that just yet.)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 219,048 others

yourinstagram 2 months of making mr grumpy smile (and yes, there's photographic evidence of the smiles now). who would've thought all it took was stealing his hoodies and annoying him until he fell in love with me 😌 ps: thanks @/landonorris for being the world's most obvious wingman

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username1 THIS IS SO CUUUUTE

username2 i’m crying. they’re the most adorable couple ver

username3 this is what osc deserves!!!

landonorris MY WORK HERE IS DONE

↳ oscarpiastri You're the worst best friend ever

↳ landonorris you're welcome mate 😘

↳ yourinstagram thank you for your service

charles_leclerc The grumpy one's gone soft

↳ yourinstagram he really has 🥰

↳ oscarpiastri I hate both of you

↳ yourinstagram no you don't x

↳ oscarpiastri ...no i don't ❤️

alex_albon aremember when he used to pretend he couldn't stand you

↳ yourinstagram look how that turned out

↳ oscarpiastri In my defense she was very annoying

↳ yourinstagram still am, you just think it's cute now

↳ oscarpiastri ...no comment

username4 BEST COUPLE IN THE PADDOCK

username5 the day oscar piastri used a heart emoji. historic.

oscarpiastri Fine. You win. 2 months of pretending to be annoyed by the most incredible girl who somehow sees past my "resting grumpy face" (your words, not mine). Thanks for not giving up on me even when i was being difficult. ps: that's my favorite hoodie you're wearing in the last photo, i want it back.

↳ yourinstagram no you don't, it looks better on me 😌

↳ oscarpiastri ...yeah it does

↳ landonorris Get a room you two 🙄

↳ yourinstagram says the guy who took half these photos without us knowing

↳ landonorris SOMEONE had to document the enemies to lovers arc

↳ yourinstagram i love you, grumpy ❤️

[seungcheorry]

thinking about wonwoo at a social gathering - say someone's birthday -, but his baby daughter is there.

he absolutely let her do whatever she wants, as long as she's not hurting herself or others. of course, he would love to catch up with friends and family, but he's also so happy that she chose him to play peek a boo with her. he almost can't hear what everyone is talking about, because his ears are filled with his daughter's giggles as he's "looking" for her - wonwoo doesn't have the heart to let her know that he can see her under the table.

and maybe he will ask for a time out, so his partner can take her to the bathroom and he can eat something, have a drink; but fifteen minutes later she's all over her dad again, climbing his body and saying "appa, can we play tag now?" in a language only wonwoo and his partner can understand.

by the end of the night, wonwoo has her peacefully sleeping on his broad shoulder, little hand holding his shirt for dear life.

"running around the whole day, it seems more tiring than performing at a 3 hours long concert", chan says, soft eyes glaring at his hyung.

"yeah, i think it is. but it's worth just as much."

[imnotshua]

as seen on screen | jww (part 2/3)

٠࣪⭑ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: Wonwoo doesn’t pay you any attention, not since you were both rookies - him on the track and you in the paddock. You’ve been at Ferrari for years, and now he’s joined the team you’re supposed to be working together, but it seems he still has that same stick up his ass whenever you have something to say. ٠࣪⭑ genre: coworkers au. smut (eventual), angst, enemies to lovers ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact, i’ll block you. ٠࣪⭑ chapter warnings: drinking, swearing, reader and wonwoo do not like each other, mentions of revenge p*rn (stranger vs wonwoo) ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: brief mention of sex scene if you think i’ve forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 9.1k ٠࣪⭑ a/n: chapter 3 will be released 16th september. ٠࣪⭑ written for: the Lights Out collab hosted by @camandemstudios! thank you both for letting me join in! please look out for the rest of the fics 💕

missed chapter one?

Suzuka, Japan

Wonwoo’s race goes poorly. Caught in the rain, he’s in P2 when he’s nearly clipped by Verstappen, Wonwoo manages to avoid the wall but he spins out onto the grass. Ends up dead last with only seven laps to go. He claws some positions back by– quite frankly– reckless driving, but he still only finishes P13. Charles takes second place, must make that bitter loss taste so much worse. Jeonghan catches up to him before he storms off out of view, pushes him in the direction of the cameras while you watch them from the Paddock Club. 

Your team are playing off the loss with the sponsors. ‘It’s early days’ and ‘everyone loves an underdog’ and ‘Verstappen will have to watch his back in Bahrain.' Verstappen won’t have to watch shit. Wonwoo doesn’t hold grudges for anything that happens on the track, seems he’s only held them against you, really. After a few minutes of placation, you make your excuses and head down to meet the team. 

First, to congratulate Charles, who beams, hugs you tight and almost lifts you into the air before you shove him onto someone else with a laugh. Then to Edoardo, who is flip flopping between pride and frustration. Says he’ll talk to Wonwoo later, to go over what went wrong. 

Last, to Wonwoo, who’s with an interviewer talking shit. You don’t have to hear it, you just see it in the way Wonwoo’s eyes go hard, and the way Jeonghan’s polite smile flattens.

You make it over just in time to hear Wonwoo say “–don’t think it was a strategy issue so much as conditions, and other driver’s racing styles.”

“You’ve been doing a lot more media appearances than usual. Critics are saying you’re taking on too much work, and it’s distracting you from the race. What are your thoughts on that?”

Wonwoo’s eyes flit over to you, and straight back to the man holding a mic in front of his face. 

“Are you the critic in question?” asks Wonwoo, flatly. “Because I haven’t heard anyone saying that.”

The interviewer laughs in disbelief. “No– I–”

“You don’t think that’s a stupid question?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head to the side. “Every driver has media obligations. The rain doesn’t come down that hard just because I’ve taken a few photos.”

Jeonghan places a hand on Wonwoo’s arm, smiles at the crowd of people in front of them– “Thanks for your time everyone, we need to get going now–” and as he leads Wonwoo into the garage, you follow. 

Once inside Jeonghan makes himself scarce and Wonwoo flops into a chair. “Here to scold me already?” He scowls. “You can’t give me a minute?” 

You frown. “No. I thought you handled that fairly well, considering.” 

Wonwoo laughs sharp. “You’re kidding?”

You shrug. “You could’ve laughed it off as you said it, it would sound more friendly. But I think people like it when drivers answer ridiculous questions with a little joke. Certainly works well for Max. You did good.”

If Wonwoo is grateful for the compliment, he doesn’t show it. 

“I wanted to ask you about your trip to Seoul, after the Italian Grand Prix. How long were you planning on staying there?”

He blinks. “A week or so. Why?”

“Esquire Korea asked for an interview with you. I wanted to know if I could schedule it to coincide with your trip home. I don’t want to interrupt your time off, so I could tack it on to the end of your week. What do you think?”

Wonwoo lets out a long suffering sigh, and says, “will I have a babysitter?”

Irritation flares in your chest but you push it down. “Jeonghan, probably, he has family there and I figure he wouldn’t snub a paid trip to visit them.”

He sighs again. Runs a hand through his hair, damp with sweat. It’s getting long.

“Fine,” he says flatly. 

“Good. Let Inès know what dates you’ll be free ASAP, and I’ll finalise the details by Wednesday.” There’s a pause. You’re not sure how to end this conversation. “Sorry about your race.”

He pushes his tongue into the fat of his cheek. “It’s whatever.”

You don’t know what’s compelling you to stay there, to keep talking. Maybe it’s because he sounds so– so dejected. Not that you particularly care for his feelings, given his disdain for you. But he’s still a person, and there’s no one else around. “You’ll get them next time.”

“I’m a big boy, you know?” he says, looking up at you and raising his eyebrows. “I don’t need consoling. Least of all from you.”

This, you think, is the reason people don’t warm to him. Pushes a little kindness away like it’s a knife. Fuck him. Fuck him and his attitude. 

“Of course you don’t.” You smile stiffly. “See you next week.”

“Next week?” he asks abruptly. “Not in Japan?”

“Italy, for Vanity Fair.”

Wonwoo stares at you blankly.

“Mingyu okayed it. It’s on your calendar.”

He huffs air through his nose. “Fuck– fine. Whatever.”

As you turn you have to fight the self-satisfied smile off your face.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Milan, Italy

It’s been a busy week. Too busy, really, but you like that. Sure, you’ve spent more hours than you would’ve liked trawling the internet for a trace of Wonwoo’s name tangled up in this mess with his ex, but it’s still been free of his actual presence souring your mood. Sure you’ve been emailing translators (and Mingyu or Jeonghan when the time difference doesn’t suit) at ridiculous hours, but still– a good week. 

The problem is the pictures keep cropping up in new places. Just in the last twenty-four hours, the pictures have made their way out of obscure Korean gossip circles and into K-Pop subreddits, twitter, Tiktok, and likely soon, the news. His ex’s name is everywhere, which is unfortunate, but ‘the guy’ is still nameless. Thankfully, her team agreed that the best course of action would be to claim the pictures are fake, designed to embroil her group in scandal, and ruin their image of ‘innocent charm’ in a bid to ruin their efforts in the charts. Despite your pushing, you haven’t seen them release a statement yet. It’s… frustrating, for lack of a better word. 

Gabriella has still had no luck finding the man behind it, but she persists, and in the meantime you’d tasked Jeonghan with going back to basics with media training Wonwoo before his interview this afternoon. You’ve hardly had to speak to him at all. No luck today, though. With Mingyu on leave, Jeonghan busy with Charles, and the rest of your team tied up with the regular work of the season, supervision falls to you.

You find Wonwoo in wardrobe. He’s frustrated, you can tell that much. The stylist he’s talking to looks equally as annoyed, looking exasperated between him and the Adidas shirt she holds in her hands. 

“You don’t understa–”

“Is there a problem?” you ask.

Wonwoo glances at you, shoulders sagging in what almost looks like relief. “Can you explain to her that I can’t wear this?”

“I’ve already checked–” she argues back. “You aren’t working with any competing brands, I don’t see what the problem is.”

You stretch out your hand. “May I see it?”

She huffs as she shoves it at you, and you turn it over. The back of it is completely open. “Oh… I see.”

“Right,” says Wonwoo, nodding. “So you see, I can’t–”

“No, no. You can–” you start, and Wonwoo gapes at you. “We just need– excuse me?” you ask, smiling at the young intern hovering nearby. “Would you ask the make-up artist for the concealer she used on Wonwoo, please? A brush too, and some setting powder.”

She looks over at him curiously. “Sure, no problem.”

To the stylist you say, “Would you mind giving us a moment, please. He’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Great,” she says, before making her way toward the door. “Thanks.” 

Once it clicks shut, you ask, “So how big is this tattoo?”

Wonwoo leans against the wall. “Small. It wraps around a little.”

There’s a knock at the door, and the intern enters with a bag that she hands to Wonwoo, and makes for the door again. You go to follow her, but Wonwoo clears his throat. “Uh– sorry–” You turn to find him looking blankly at the assistant, and then at the kit in his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She looks to you wide eyed, and you sigh. “Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out. Would you mind fetching us all some coffee please?”

The door clicks shut again, and Wonwoo swallows thick. “I thought it’d be better if she helped instead.”

“The fewer people who know about your tattoo the better.”

“Right.”

“Come on,” you say tightly. “Let's get this over with.”

Wonwoo hesitates for a beat, before shrugging his t-shirt off over his head. You don’t make a show of looking, but you find yourself curious as you spot the ink curling over his ribs. It doesn’t look at home there on his skin, a phrase in romantic script in a language you don’t understand, her initials and a date, presumably their anniversary underneath. Maybe it’s because the rest of his body is too bare. Maybe it’s because you never pegged him as a romantic person. You swallow the lump in your throat. This is supposed to be professional. Mechanical. And here you are judging. 

“Your definition of small seems pretty skewed,” you say dryly, reaching for the concealer to squeeze a little onto the back of your hand. 

He doesn’t rise to it. Instead, Wonwoo watches you with a guarded stillness, moving only to cross his arm loosely over his middle to keep it out of your way. You dip the brush into the concealer and step closer, the air between you tightening.

“Hold still.”

His gaze flickers down as you work, feathering product over the fine black lines. His skin is cool to touch, and it’s infuriating that you notice the goosebumps raising under your fingertips.

“You do this often?” he asks quietly.

You shoot him a sharp look. “Covering up mistakes? Constantly.”

“I meant other people’s make up.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “But Is that what you think this is? A mistake?”

“It isn’t?” you counter, adding a second layer of concealer, grateful for the excuse not to meet his eyes.

Silence stretches between you, save for the whisper of the brush against his skin. Then, softer: “I don’t know anymore.”

“Do you want to get back together with her?”

“No.” 

“Why not?” you murmur. 

There’s a brief pause. A stilted breath. “Why are you asking?” 

Your face reddens and you duck your head to concentrate on buffing powder into his side. You don’t know why, really. “We’d have to handle the situation differently, that’s all.” The truth, sort of. “There,” you say, stepping back once you’re sure the ink can’t be seen beneath the layers. “Crisis averted.”

Wonwoo glances down at his skin, then back up at you. “Thanks.”

The gratitude in his voice sits heavier than it should. You clear your throat, stuffing the brushes back into the bag. “No need to thank me. Just make sure you don’t sweat it off on camera or we’re all screwed.”

He gives a small begrudging laugh, and you hate how it makes your stomach dip.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The interview goes so much better than you expected. Half attributed to the journalist’s lighthearted interview style, and the other you can only thank Jeonghan for. You think you even saw Wonwoo smile once or twice, so you make a mental note to make Jeonghan’s birthday present really fucking expensive this year. 

Later, you’re waiting in the lobby for your taxi when Wonwoo exits the lift. Barefaced once again, bucket hat pulled low over his eyes. You expect him to leave without a word, so you lift your hand to offer a polite wave, keep up appearances that you’re friendly now you work together, but instead he’s making his way over. 

“I wanted to– err…” he trails off. Fiddles with the ring on his right hand. 

“To what?” you prompt, raising an eyebrow. The irritation is already bubbling in your chest. 

He swallows, draws himself taller. “I wanted to say thanks again.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “It barely took a minute of my time,” you dismiss, and then after a moments thought you tack on– “though if you ever want to go swimming again you might want to consider laser rem–”

He shakes his head. “No– I mean with the pictures and my ex. Mingyu said you’ve been emailing him in the middle of the night, so I figured it’s been taking up more of your time than I thought it would.”

“Right…” You blink. Wonwoo being concerned about your working hours enough to actually talk to you wasn’t what you would’ve ever expected. “Well it’s my job, so–”

“Yeah. ‘Course.” His lips flatten into a line. “Are you waiting for your driver?”

“I don’t have a driver.” Your laugh almost sounds genuine, takes you a little aback. “Green initiative, remember? I’m on the five-ten to Modena.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth for a second, then clamps it shut. Nods. You shift your bag higher on your shoulder, expecting that to be the end of it, but he lingers, rubbing his thumb against the silver band on his finger.

“I’m… driving that way,” he says finally, each word clipped, almost like he has to force them out. “Edoardo wants me in Imola tomorrow morning. More test runs. Modena’s on the way.” 

You look at him, caught between surprise and suspicion. “And?”

His gaze flicks past you, to the doors opening and closing with the lobby’s steady stream of people heading home after a long day at work. He exhales, sharp. “Do you want a lift?”

The way he says it, you almost expect him to retract the offer before you can answer. Gentlemanly, but reluctant. Merely obligation, no generosity in it. 

“That’s unnecessary,” you reply, slow. “I already booked my ticket, and I can work from the train.”

“I know.” His jaw tightens. “Just thought I should offer.”

It hangs there, heavy, awkward, a tie knotted too tight. You wait, but he doesn’t add anything. Doesn’t soften. Just stands there, tall and stiff, like he’s fulfilling some duty carved into his bones.

“…Sure,” you say at last, because anything else feels too unnatural. “Thanks anyway.”

Wonwoo nods once, curt. Still, he lingers.

“Yes?” you prompt again.

He sighs. “Mingyu said I should apologise.”

“Oh.” Unexpected. 

“He said I’ve been rude, and you don’t deserve it, and you’re just trying to do your job.” The words sound rehearsed, rushed. Not an apology you’ll accept. 

“So do you need me to call Mingyu, then?”

He stares at you, confused. “For what?”

You tilt your head to the side, smile big and fake. “To apologise for you.”

His sniffs, annoyed, scrunches up his nose. God, you do enjoy pissing him off.  

“M’sorry,” he says, so low you barely catch it.

“Say again? Didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck’s sa–” He clears his throat. His whole face is flushed with indignation. “I said I’m sorry.”

You have to make a real effort to stop the shit-eating grin from taking over your face, and it’s only then that Wonwoo meets your eyes. For once, for the first time nearly a decade, he holds. 

“Are you happy now?” he asks, under his breath. “Are you satisfied?”

“Never,” you mutter, under yours. And then you catch sight of the taxi pulling up outside. “That’s my ride.”

And then he surprises you again– picks up the laptop bag at your feet and heads straight through the automatic doors. It takes you a second to get your brain into gear to chase him out. By the time you reach him, he’s already pulling open the car door and stepping back to hold it for you.

You narrow your eyes at him, snatch your bag from his hands. “I can carry my own things, Wonwoo.”

“I was helping,” he retorts.

This is strange. This isn’t the Wonwoo you’ve had to spend all these weeks with. Suddenly wanting to be helpful out of the blue. 

“If I wanted your help, I’d ask for it,” you snap. “Don’t touch my stuff.” 

His eyebrows furrow, the flush of annoyance patching up his neck. “Okay. Fine, I won’t get in your way again.”

“Good!”

“Great!”

You slide into the backseat, and Wonwoo slams the car door behind you. You don’t see him storm off, but you catch the way the taxi drivers’ eyes follow him in the mirror, and after a moment he turns to you and asks excitedly, “Quell’uomo era Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Sì, signore.”

He gasps. “È il tuo ragazzo?”

“No, è il mio collega.”

He gasps again, louder, this time. “Ferrari?”

“Sì, signore.”

And so your fifteen minutes of quiet is lost to fast paced conversation about cars, and racing, and drivers you’d rather not think about.

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sakhir, Bahrain

Wonwoo takes his first podium of the year. Third place, Charles in first. The cheers from the garage are deafening– the crew run out to meet them both, tear them into hugs. You hang back in favour of sending Jeonghan into the fray. With Wonwoo this happy, there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to post-race media, because the smile splits his face wide, and his laughter bubbles out of him when he speaks, and anyone can see that there’s nothing that suits him more. 

It’s a crying shame you’ll have to wipe it off him, later tonight.

There’s a video. 

One Gabriella says is unmistakably him. Still no face, but his voice, and the ring he wears on his right hand is enough of a giveaway. ‘It hardly matters about the tattoo at this point,’ she’d said. Once again, you haven’t looked. The signal notification scorches a mark into your phone, but there it’ll stay until Wonwoo can watch it for himself. 

You and Jeonghan decide to wait until after the press commitments before pulling him away from the paddock, to drag him away early after his first podium with Ferrari would only raise concerns, and the last thing you’d want on a night like this is to draw prying eyes. Keep him happy, keep him talking, for once. 

Later, you find him in the garage. He’s laughing with Charles, his girlfriend, Adrienne, and some of the engineers– his beer hardly touched. Most of the group meets you with big smiles or celebratory hugs, and Wonwoo must be beyond happy with his race because his smile doesn’t drop even a little. He even nods in greeting. Adrienne pulls you into conversation, gushes over the anniversary gift you sent them, and Charles joins in, says his mother was asking after you. 

“Oh I hope Monique’s well too!” you exclaim. “I’ve been trying that recipe she sent me and I still can’t get it right, but tell her to come for dinner during the summer break if she’s in the area, and I’ll make her something edible.”

Charles grins, says, “I’m sure she’d love to.”

One of the engineers, Paulo, offers you a beer from the coolbox but you shake your head.

“Sorry guys, I need to talk to Wonwoo for a minute.”

His face falls. “It can’t wait?”

Charles and the others look between you with curiosity. “No, we need to go over some changes for tomorrow morning.”

He frowns, puzzled. “It’s my day off.” 

You offer a terse smile, and Charles catches it. Knows something’s up that you can’t say in front of others because God, he’s been on the receiving end too, once or twice. 

“We’re heading out anyway, right, Adrienne?”

She nods, a proud, winning smile plastered on her face– links her fingers with his and offers swift goodbyes before pulling him out into the night. They’re sweet, those two. The engineers quickly say their goodbyes too, when you lead Wonwoo into a small room and shut the door behind you. 

“Are you mic’d?” you say, as you sit down.

Wonwoo swallows thick as he follows suit. “No.”

“You should’ve warned me there was a video,” you mutter. “We’re working on burying it, but we can’t guarantee it won’t be picked up or sent to anyone we’re not able to handle.” He ashens when you slide your phone across the table, with the Signal notification there waiting. “Is it you?”

His hands shake as he presses play, and you only wished you’d turned down the volume first. It’s only fourteen (awfully, agonisingly long) seconds, but it’s obscene. Panted breaths, the slap of wet skin, a whispered jagiya (hers), a desperate groan (his). You shift uncomfortably in your seat, swallow your surprise, and press your hand to your cheek in a desperate bid to cool the heat building there. 

“You want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Your voice comes out harsher than you intend. He flinches. 

“I didn’t– God–I…” he trails off, dragging a hand through his hair. “We were twenty-two, for fucks sake. It was supposed to be for us.”

“Look, nobody here gives a damn if you fuck someone, but you’re the one who got into a secret relationship,” you snap. “This could be an easy fix if you’d let us work the angle right.”

His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

“Take ownership. Say you had a girlfriend and it’s all in the past. And this is embarrassing but who doesn’t have videos of themselves with their long term partner? This isn’t career-ending for you.” 

“It would be for her.” He’s shaking his head. “I can’t do that.” 

You press on. “Her team is insisting we ignore it completely. They haven’t even put out a statement and quite frankly they’re grossly mismanaging everything. Do you have any idea how hard it is to spin that into something salvageable now there’s a video like that?”

He looks up at you, eyes wide. “Have you seen it?”

“No,” you sputter. You heard plenty. “God no. I don’t want to.”

“Why? Most people in the press would’ve.”

“I’m not in the press. Not anymore,” you retort, defensive. “Why do you care?”

“Wanted to know if I’d still be able to look you in the eye.”

The bitter laugh falls out of you before you can stop it. “You hardly look at me anyway.”

Wonwoo’s jaw ticks. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

“I need you to stop wearing that ring.” 

He levels you with a look. “Absolutely not.”

You huff air through your nose. “If you continue to wear it you’re more likely to get noticed while people try to figure this out. Don’t be stupid, Wonwoo.” 

That makes him pause. His mouth opens, then shuts again. After a beat, he says quietly, “It’s important to me. If I take it off on the road, I’ll lose it.”

You grit your jaw in annoyance. Shit, you could fucking shake him. Rub at your neck and still your hand over the chain you disturb there. And then you’re unclasping your necklace, and Wonwoo, quick on the uptake, removes his ring and hands it to you, watches as you slip the chain through the band. And when you attempt to hand it to him, he draws his hands into his lap, and says, “Oh– I thought you were gonna wear it.” 

“Just tuck it under your shirt.”

“It’s your necklace.”

“It’s your ring,” you deadpan.

He shrugs, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in defiance. You scowl. 

“For fucks sake, Wonwoo,” you hiss, slipping the necklace back around your neck, and tucking the ring out of sight under your collar. 

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sweat slick skin, the scent of something woody and atmospheric, touches that make you lightheaded. It’s not anger that simmers in your body but want. He’s between your legs, face pressed to your skin, face shrouded by dark, messy hair. He lifts his chin, meets your eyes across your body, pushes long fingers into your–

You wake with a start, alone in your hotel room. Skin sticky and cheeks flushed. It takes a second for the dream to come back to you in your foggy, sleep-addled state, but when it does your stomach twists, water-brash in your mouth. There’s no meaning in it, surely? It’ll just be because the sound from that fucking video won’t leave your brain, right? You push yourself up in bed, check the time– 2:41am. Your alarm will go off in twenty minutes anyway, might as well finish packing your suitcase and do your best to put your dream at the very back of your mind.

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’ve got the aisle spot, as always. Business class this time instead of first. The flight out of Bahrain is early enough that the plane is filled with the exhausted hush the team. Wonwoo boards late, hood up, headphones looped around his neck, glasses slipping down his nose. You watch him look for his seat number, hoping to the heavens and back that it’s not the empty one right next to your seat. But fate (or rather poor Inès being lumbered with logistics for half the team) has a cruel sense of humor, because right beside you is where he comes to a halt. If he offers you a passing glance as he opens the overhead locker, you refuse to notice, because you’re boring a hole into the page of your book. 

“Excuse me,” he says, sounding as tired as you feel. You tuck your legs to the side, push back in your seat as hard as you can to allow him the biggest gap to get through. He shifts past to slump into his seat and you catch it– a waft of his cologne– smoky and sweet and woody. Catapults you right back to your hotel room, and you shift in your seat. Your skin feels all prickly and hot. 

Once he’s buckled himself in, you expect him to pull his headphones on as he usually does, but in your peripherals you catch him looking at you curiously, and after a second, he leans over the armrest. “What are you reading?”

You glare at him. Flash him the cover (The Hypocrite, by Jo Hamya) and Wonwoo laughs, at what you don’t know. Or care, even! 

“Are you annoyed with me already?” he asks quietly, brows pinching together. 

“I just want to read,” you mutter, and you don’t wait for Wonwoo’s reply before you jab at the button to raise the privacy screen between your chairs, and he has to jolt out of the way.

An hour or so later, when you’re in the air and the wifi isn’t cutting out, you get an email from Inès. 

Hope you’re travelling safe!

We received the clips and interview (see attached) from Esquire late last night and they want your approval before pushing it to print. 

Inès CarvahloExecutive Assistant to Head of Communications

You type back your thanks and make sure to include a PS that says ‘Jesus Christ, Inès, just because I work crazy hours doesn't mean you have to as well. Please get some sleep for the rest of us!!!’ before clicking on the attachments. 

The interview comes out as you expect, knowing Bridget and her work like the back of your hand. And the pictures… well– he looks incredible. Which you suppose isn’t too difficult a task. 

You knock on the privacy screen, and a moment later you hear him press the button to bring it down. He’s taken his hood down, and his hair is messy from sleep. He’s looking at you half-surprised, half expectant, and pales when you pass him your phone.

“Nothing to worry about this time. They want my approval for the Esquire interview.”

He stares at you. “Do you usually get approval?”

You laugh. “No. It’s only because Bridget loves me.” Wonwoo doesn’t reply. “Do you want to read it? Tell me what you think?”

“Does it even matter what I think?”

You shrug. “Sure, it should feel authentically you.”

“Nothing about this shit feels authentically me,” he murmurs, but he takes your phone in his hand anyway, and you absolutely do not think about the way his fingers brush yours. 

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

You’ve been fighting a bug for the last two days. This morning, it got the better of you. It’s not often you’re affected by the exhaustion of travel, but there's more on your plate than usual, and so you’re watching the race while holed up in your hotel room, thanking God that Jeonhan can handle your duties while spreading out his own to the rest of the team. 

Races always have you holding your breath at parts, but the Chicane always makes your stomach twist. Lap seven, and they’re already playing a game of chicken, and your heart is in your throat. Lap forty-two, and tensions are too high. Fernando goes into the back of Charles, and both go slamming into the wall in a blur. Wonwoo is alongside them, and narrowly escapes unscathed. You can’t breathe, the anxiety not at all helping the ache in your body for what feels like an age before the safety car comes out, and the news comes through that everyone is okay. Charles is out of the race, but once the debris is cleared, Wonwoo has the advantage. With bated breath you watch, enraptured, cradling your increasingly sore stomach in your arms, but he wins, and you can release the tension in your chest. Wonwoo takes P1.

God, he looks so happy. He’s almost barreled to the ground with the weight of the team, you see Jeonghan and Mingyu clapping him on the back, and he’s scanning the crowd, looking for Edoardo, or Charles, maybe, but can’t find them. He’s whispering something in Jeonghan's ear, and Jeonghan’s shaking his head back, and then the screen clicks back to the highlight reel. You turn off the TV after a few minutes, overcome with a wave of nausea, and you send a mass congratulations text to the team while laying on the bathroom floor. 

The clock reads 11:37pm when you’re woken from a restless sleep by rapid knocking at your door. You stumble across your room and look through the peephole to see Wonwoo, slumping against the opposite wall, in a baggy black t-shirt, Ferrari-issued bomber jacket, and jeans. He’s got a bag in his hand. 

You rub your eyes as you open the door, and the smell of liquor hits you immediately. It turns your stomach. “Shit– how drunk are you?”

Wonwoo laughs lazily. “A lot. They took me out to celebrate. You didn’t come.”

You fail to get his point. Stand in the open doorway and cross your arms. “Did you lose your room or something?”

“Jeonghan said you’re sick,” he slurs. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, while it feels like your skull is being pierced. 

“Brought you soup.”

You blink. “Y– you what?”

“Soup,” he repeats, thrusting the bag he holds into your hands. 

This feels like it should be a practical joke you don’t understand. You peer down the hallway, wondering if you’ll spot some other drivers with cameras in their hands, jeering and teasing. It’s empty, save for Wonwoo and his bag. 

You take it from him cautiously, briefly wondering if he’s poisoned it.

“Are you wearing my ring?” 

You reach up, pluck out the chain from beneath the collar of your pyjamas to show him the ring dangling from it, before saying, “I’m wearing my necklace.”

“Do you even know what that ring means to me?” he murmurs. 

Wonwoo has always been hard to read, but with his eyes locking yours, a line of sweat beading on his forehead, lips parted in that pretty way he does for photographs, you find yourself even more bewildered, and completely lost for words. 

“I hardly know anything about you,” you breathe.

“Can I co–” he starts, but then he goes positively grey, and his chin drops. Fucking hell.

“Jesus, Wonwoo, are you going to be sick?”

He nods, clasping a hand over his mouth, and you’re ushering him into your bathroom just in time for him to vomit in the same toilet you had your head in not three hours ago. You pour him a glass of water and leave it on the counter while you retrieve your phone from the nightstand. 

You [11:39] Come get Wonwoo, please. Room 503. Mingyu [11:40] WHAT Mingyu [11:40] Sorry. Be there in fifteen 

Mingyu knocks gently on your door in twelve minutes, breathless and red faced. The poor guy must’ve sprinted here from the bar. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, as you let him inside and show him to the bathroom, where Wonwoo is falling asleep with his head tipped back against the wall. “He said he had to do something– we all thought he was just at his limit and wanted to go sleep it off.”

“How does he even know my room number?”

“Oh– he’s only a few doors down,” Mingyu says indifferently, bending to pull Wonwoo up. Wonwoo groans as he’s jostled about. “He probably saw you.”

“Right.”

Wonwoo’s head lolls to the side, but Mingyu’s got him. Half carries, half drags him from your room and then stops just outside your doorway. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Can you get his key from his pocket? And grab the door for me?”

“Uh–” Shit. “Yeah, sure.”

You slip your hand in his jacket pockets first, find nothing but his phone. You check to make sure he’s still got his eyes closed before you pat down his jean pockets for anything that resembles a wallet and you find it in his back pocket. You fish it out, find his card and rush to open the door Mingyu directs you to. He dumps Wonwoo on the bed without ceremony, and starts pulling off his shoes. 

“Is he okay?” you ask, hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

Mingyu laughs, tossing one shoe on the floor before untying the other. “He’s fine, he’s just not used to drinking.”

It really shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter that Wonwoo, who hates you, got drunk as shit celebrating his first win and left his team early to show up at your door with food. Nothing makes sense when your head is pounding like this. 

“I’m gonna take his jeans off now,” warns Mingyu.

“Right. Yeah,” you blurt, heat creeping up your cheeks. “Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Back in the quiet relief of your room, you open the container. Chicken noodle, still hot. You skipped everything but a few plain crackers for breakfast, and now your body cries out for sustenance. You eat faster than you should, thoughts of Wonwoo only returning when your spoon scrapes the bottom of the takeout pot. Why was he even thinking of you? In the bathroom you brush your teeth, wash your face with cool water in the sink, and level yourself with a look in the mirror. It’s just food. It doesn’t mean anything. Get a grip. His ring dangles from the chain around your neck, mocking you.

In bed, you agonise over texting him. If you should ask why he came, if you should bring up what he said about his ring. Ask what it means. In the end you settle for:

You [00:23] Thanks for dropping off the soup.

You’re laying on a bed, sheets mussed with sleep. You’re resting your head in his lap, and he’s toying with the chain around your neck. Moves his hand down your body soft soft soft. Says he thinks of you. Makes you burn.

You wake to the buzz of your phone.

Wonwoo [10:12] You’re welcome. I’m really embarrassed

You stare at the message, because yeah, you’d be embarrassed too. And he should be, showing up to your hotel room like that, in the middle of the night as drunk as he was. It’s a wonder he had the nerve to text you back at all, because you certainly wouldn’t have. But he brought you soup. Because he heard you were sick. And despite rotting in bed for ages wondering why on earth why he’d do that for you, you can’t settle on anything, other than it being pretty nice. 

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Maranello, Italy

You’re starting to suspect this gym-instructor ex-boyfriend of Wonwoo’s ex-girlfriend doesn’t actually exist because why the fuck can no one find a shred of information on him? You say as such to Gabriella, and she gives you a look that says she’s been wondering the same. Wonwoo is in France for a few days, working on possible brand ambassadorships, and Jeonghan is keeping you in the loop as best he can. After the incident at the hotel, you’ve decided to keep your distance where you can. The problem is any time you’re on the same flight, you’re seated together. And lately Wonwoo has been trying to talk to you. It’s a little unnerving, after years of flopping between clipped responses and radio silence. 

You’re shut away in your office most of the week, catching up with sponsors, signing off on events, attempting to keep up with the media. You’re on hold again with the ex-girlfriend’s label. They’ve been avoiding yours and Gabriella’s calls for the last two weeks, and it looks like they’re palming you off again and pretending no-one is available. You’re on minute thirteen when your personal phone starts buzzing on the desk. You press mute on your work phone before you pick up. 

“I’m calling about a video,” says Bridget. She’s whispering. “There’s a rumour going around that it’s your driver, and I must say, if so, it’s a very flattering light.”

Oh God. Your heart is in your throat. “Bridget. Bridget– listen to me. You can’t print anything about this–”

“And I won’t, came straight to you. You’re lucky it wasn’t picked up by our editor. I’m assuming you want this buried?”

You heave a long-suffering sigh. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Nowhere near enough, darling.” She hums, happy. “There is something you can do for me though–”

“Uh oh–”

She cackles. Your evil, delightful friend cackles while you’re pulling out your hair. “Nothing awful. Can you get us in the Paddock Club in Miami?”

“Who’s us?”

“I’ve started seeing someone,” she whispers excitedly. “And he has this huge mancrush on Carlos Sainz–”

It’s your turn to laugh then. “No problem. I’ll have two passes sent over this afternoon.”

“Oh you’re a sweetheart!”

“Don’t attempt flattery when I’ve just been bribed,” you say, smiling into the receiver. “You’ll come meet me for dinner while we’re there? Let me meet him?”

“Of course, of course!”

You’re interrupted by the sound of the hold music coming to an abrupt halt, and you say quick goodbyes to Bridget only to be told, once again, that the manager you requested is unavailable.

Later, you have a stream of emails from publications with less integrity (or more, depending on how you look at it) anyway, asking for confirmation, asking for a statement from Ferrari, and Mingyu calls you at one AM in a panic, having had the same.

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next few days are occupied by fielding calls from the media, an official statement on both Wonwoo’s personal social media accounts, and Ferrari’s, and a press conference, where Wonwoo was flanked by both you and Gabriella. The agreed stance is as follows:

The photos and video were taken by Wonwoo and his now ex-partner, several years ago. 

It was a loving relationship, and the video and photos were taken consensually.

No, you will not confirm or deny if the other party is a member of a well known K-pop group.

Legal action will be taken against the person responsible for releasing them, and the police are involved.

There have been countless angry messages and emails from the ex’s management company (Inès has been keeping a tally for you) but with the Miami Grand Prix looming, there simply hasn’t been time for you to get back to them. Hahaha. Jeonghan is holding fort in Maranello with Gabriela, acting as a translator between her and South Korean police, while you catch yet another flight sitting next to Wonwoo. 

It’s past midnight, and he’s already asleep by the time you board and slip your bag into the overhead locker. The trouble with ITA airways is that there’s no privacy doors, so working on sensitive issues is pretty much impossible with all the eyes around you. And so, unable to work and unable to get into the book you brought, you settle in to sleep too. 

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Whispers surround you. You’re clapped on the back by older reporters, jeering and saying ‘saw your article! aren’t you brave!’ You can smell the meanness, the condescension on them. They’re like your dad, and the last thing you ever want to be. When the drivers come out into the paddock, you’re recognised for once. You draw scowls and side eyes from the PR managers, and tight, fake smiles from the drivers. Hardly any of them give you more than five words. And then comes Wonwoo, who you wronged, and who won’t talk to you at all. The memory morphs. Instead of biting remarks in your voice recorder you’re calling out, right there in front of everyone, saying you’re sorry.

It feels surreal, to wake from yet another dream about Wonwoo only to find him right next to you, turned on his side in his chair and scrolling on his phone, the reflection of Tiktok in his glasses. You rub the sleep from your eyes, and he looks up. 

“Morning,” he whispers. The lights are still out, and you check your watch to see you’ve only been in the air for five hours. “You’ve been talking in your sleep again.”

Shit. Shit shit fuck shit. “Anything interesting?” 

His thumb pauses scrolling for the briefest of moments. “Work, I guess. Couldn’t really hear.”

God, you should catch up on what you missed while you were sleeping. You pull your laptop from the  bag under your seat and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Do you ever stop working?”

You huff a laugh under your breath. “What would I do instead?”

He locks his phone, drops it into his lap. “Play a game, listen to music, read a book,” he offers. “You always have a book when we fly, where is it?”

You shrug. “I didn’t like this one so much.”

“I’d offer you mine but it’s something else I saw you read before.” In the semi-darkness you swear you can almost see him smiling. Your stomach twists.

“Work it is then,” you say, grinning fake, tapping your laptop awake. 

“What about a movie?” he counters. 

“And waste thirty minutes going through all the options only to find nothing I want to see?” you mutter, typing in your password. “No thank you.” Wonwoo stares at you for a moment. “What?”

He blinks, setting his jaw. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

​​· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·​​

Miami, USA

The good news– the weather is beautiful as it usually is in Miami, your schedule is clear for the rest of the afternoon, and your hotel has a rooftop pool.

The bad news– the bikini your assistant back home packed for you is hardly your swimsuit of choice for a work trip. This was one you’d bought a few years back, one your then boyfriend complained was too small. 

You pull it on anyway. At least it’s red. You throw over a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, debate with yourself about leaving your work phone in the room, before slotting it in your bag and making your way upstairs. 

The view is something else. The bustle of the city feels far away up here, and you order a glass of wine at the bar before settling in on a sun lounger. It’s so quiet, with hardly anyone poolside on a midweek afternoon. You slip off your t-shirt, prop yourself up on your elbows on your front, and pull out the book you’ve barely had the chance to get into. 

An hour goes by, and you’re on your second glass of wine, and waiting for your food to arrive. Another, and you’re growing tempted to ignore the occasional buzz from your phone and you’re ordering another glass. By hour three, your book is tucked away, your shorts are shed too, and you’re slipping into the pool. You dip under the surface, let the water rush over your head, let your body drift of its own accord. 

After a moment you break to tread water, find yourself a few metres away from where you entered, wipe the droplets from your face, and it’s then you hear them on the other side of the pool. A bunch of drivers with wide smiles– Charles and Carlos calling your name, Pierre, Alex, and Yuki who wave you over, and Wonwoo, who looks like all the air has been sucked out of his chest. There goes your relaxing afternoon. But to avoid him would be to draw speculation, and that won’t do in front of drivers from other teams, so you swim over. The water isn’t as deep over here, but you still have to push up from the tips of your toes in order to cross your arms over the coping and rest your chin on them. 

“Hi guys,” you say with a smile. “Enjoying your evening?”

“More so now you’re here,” says Carlos, with an exaggerated, ridiculous wink.

You laugh. “Don’t flirt with me, darling, I couldn’t take you breaking my heart again.”

Carlos clutches his chest. “I’d never, never break your heart.”

“You already did!” you gasp. 

“When?”

“Remember two years ago? The Constructors' Championship win?” Charles says, and you’re grinning, already knowing where he’s going. “You called the cake she made for the team ugly.”

“You made that atrocious thing?” Carlos’ eyes go wide. “Well now I’m embarrassed.”

You splash water on him and he yelps. The others are laughing, but Wonwoo doesn’t. His eyes flit back and forth between you, watching carefully.

“And I’ll never make a cake again!”

“If it’s any consolation it tasted great.” He laughs when you give him a look. “No, really!”

“Hmm,” you say, suppressing your laugh. “You know slandering my cake is why you lost your seat, right?” Carlos pretends to look wounded. 

The conversation moves easily, even with Wonwoo keeping quiet. Alex and Pierre seem to notice that he isn’t joining in, that his friendly demeanour has suddenly and obviously shifted into something charged, but they don’t mention it aloud, just exchange quizzical looks, as they take in the way Wonwoo diverts his attention anywhere but your face when you speak. 

“We’re gonna grab drinks,” says Charles. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks,” you say, smiling up at them. “Gonna swim.”

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” Carlos asks you. 

“Meet you downstairs at seven?” 

The rest of the guys exchange looks.

“What’s tomorrow?” Alex asks.

Carlos waggles his eyebrows. “It’s a date.”

You sigh. “We’re going to surprise my friend’s new boyfriend at dinner,” you explain. “He’s a big fan of Carlos, for some reason.” 

With that the group say quick goodbyes. You wish them well for the media day tomorrow and they filter away, but Wonwoo hangs back, tells them he doesn’t feel like drinking tonight. He’s still avoiding your eye, so you push off from the edge and make to turn but he’s suddenly calling you back, voice sharp. You give him a bemused look, but he’s already casting his eyes downward, plucking at a hangnail on his thumb. 

“You’re wearing your necklace.”

Ah. Fuck. You hadn’t even thought about taking it off, considering you’re not likely to be caught in any photographs off the paddock, even less in the comfort of your hotel. 

“Shit. Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t think.” 

“I guess it doesn’t matter now.” He pauses. “Do you think I could take off my shirt?”

You blanche. “Why would you do that?”

“To swim,” he laughs.

“Oh. Yeah. I suppose you’re right, no need to hide anymore.”

And even though it’s perfectly normal, that no one would think anything of someone pulling their t-shirt off in order to swim, you still avert your eyes when you catch sight of his bare skin. You turn away, swimming off to put plenty of space between you. 

The water is cooler at this end of the pool, refreshing against your skin. You kick lazily, roll onto your back, watch the way the sky casts pink and orange until your chest loosens again. The murmur of voices from the bar drifts, but soon it’s only the rhythm of your own breathing.

A ripple of water breaks the quiet– Wonwoo sliding into the pool. You glance once, then deliberately away, but he doesn’t retreat to a corner. He follows. For a while, neither of you speak. You swim laps, he mirrors. A strange, wordless competition. Kick, glide, breathe, repeat– until your body begins to ache, lungs burning, both of you too stubborn to be the first to stop.

Eventually you can’t hold it anymore– you surface with a gasp, dragging in lungfuls of humid air. You rest your arms on the coping, lean your forehead against your hands. Wonwoo surfaces a beat after, hair plastered to his skin, chest heaving. Instead of giving you space he draws closer, crowding you against the tile.

His eyes search yours, fierce and unsteady. “What’s your problem with me?”

The question cuts deeper than you expect. You blink, caught off guard, words tangling in your throat. He presses on, voice rough with exertion and something sharper.

“Everyone seems to love you,” he says, voice barbed. “You buy them gifts. You tell off your staff for working a fraction as hard as you do. You have people’s families over for dinner. You make cakes for your team. You laugh so nice with everyone you meet.” He pauses to heave a sigh. And then quieter, gentler– “Not a single person has a bad word to say about you.”

You scoff. “You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.”

“You don’t treat me like that.” 

Heat flares in your body. “I– what are you talking about?” you whisper, turning your face away. The other drivers keep glancing over. 

“You’re all smiles for everyone but me. Any time you see me your face drops. What did I do to you?” 

“Nothing. It’s just different,” you hiss. 

“How is it different?” he snaps.

You look at him, wild eyed. “Because you don’t like me!” 

There’s a long, horrible silence. Droplets of water bead down his face. “I liked you,” he says, low. “Back when we first met. I liked you a lot.”

The admission hangs heavy between you. He liked you. Liked, past tense. Your breath won’t settle, because of the swim you put it down to, not from the proximity of his chest against your side. 

“Then I hated you. And now I don’t know what to think.”

You don’t know what to say, how to untangle what he means– or what he wants from you in this moment. So you just hold yourself against the tile, staring at each other, while the setting sun bathes your faces in golden light, and the silence between you becomes charged enough to crack. 

His eyes flick over to the bar, watching the other drivers drink and talk. “Do you like Carlos?”

“No!” Your incredulous laugh is sharp. “What?”

“He has a crush on you.”

“He’s like that with everyone. Fuck, he flirts with Charles more than he does with me.” Heat creeps up your chest. Indignation or– “For God’s sake, Wonwoo, even if he does it’d be none of your fucking business anyway.”

You heave yourself out of the water, not caring even a little bit that you’re splashing him as you go. You storm over to your sun lounger and towel off as quickly as you can manage, gather up with your things and make your way to the elevator. 

You jab the down button, jaw so tight it aches, towel wrapped tight around your body. The elevator doors slide open and you step inside, relief already cooling the fire in your chest– until a wet slap of bare feet echoes behind you. Wonwoo slips in just as the doors close, dripping water across the floor, hair still soaking, sticking to his temples.

“Are you serious?” you all but shout. “You’re getting water everywhere. Do you have any consideration at all?”

He ignores the rebuke, leans past you, and presses a random button– twenty-something, you don’t even clock which. The elevator hums into motion.

“Give it back,” he says, voice low, rough. You frown. “My ring.” His gaze drops pointedly to your chest, where the thin chain glints on your damp skin. “I want it back.”

Anger sparks hot and quick. “Oh now you want it back? No ‘thanks for looking after it’? No gratitude?”

His jaw ticks, moves closer to crowd you against the wall, and you draw yourself up to your full height. “It’s mine.”

“Fine,” you hiss, dropping your things to the floor without a thought, fingers flying up to your neck only to fumble with the clasp. “Fuck you, Wonwoo. Take your fucking ri–”

You can barely get it off you before he closes the little space between your bodies. His hands frame your face, damp and desperate, and you freeze, words dying on your lips. Against your better judgment, you don’t push his hands away. Against your better judgement, you hold your breath and wait for his next move. Against your better judgement, your hands fall to his waist. And like before, goosebumps rise on his skin under your touch. 

“I–” he whispers, breath fanning across your lips. “I think I want–”

The ding of the elevator snaps the moment in half. You shove at his chest, stumbling away, mouth dry, towel half-slipping down. The doors open onto a pair of startled hotel guests who take in the scene– your flushed face, his lack of a shirt, your chests heaving in sync.

Humiliation crashes over you. You scramble to gather your things from the floor, duck your head, and push past them into the hallway without a word. You’re on the wrong fucking floor, but no matter, you just need to be alone. 

Behind you, Wonwoo doesn’t follow. Just stands there, water dripping to his feet, eyes on you like he can’t quite believe what just happened either.

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thank you for reading, everyone! if you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging to get it seen outside of my small following. thank u ily <3

final chapter coming soon

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