#chubby triangle

[midnightcandygoblin]

bill pregnant with fords child

I've kept this in my ask box for several days, not knowing how to answer it and I just-

I'm so fucking tired 😭

Yes, I am taking drawing requests, but not this. Not ever this.😭😭

Bill is a fucking triangle with a top hat and a bow tie? i- I just- huh?

If someone else wants to draw it, you're free to do so, but by god, cross my heart and hope to die, I pinky swear, I'm never drawing anyone or anything pregnant unless it's to deeply unsettle (a) person(s). That's the kinda chaos I do, not this.

Thank you for the ask and the request, but I am NOT-

I think I slayed 🤔 /j

(Seriously tho, never ask me something like this again, people. especially since I'm a minor.)

[arathejedi394]

in honor of my fatphobic anon i'm starting fat bear week in February pls enjoy this snippet from my plotless steve and bucky go to bdsm summer camp fic - Not Safe For Reading Around Your Grandma. also Fury always has a pocketful of colorful butterfly barrettes as a general rule.

The Avengers all talk over each other during the meal, spill food, more than one bottom gets thrown over the table or someone’s knee for a swat or two. As they disperse, the Subs on KP start putting away lunch under Sam’s directions. 

“Cleanup on aisle eleven, nesty slick spill!” Scott calls as the chairs around Bucky and Steve are pulled back and the glistening grass beneath them is discovered.

Steve’s combing his hair with a fork while everybody else laughs. Bucky takes the fork away and puts it down, then stands up with him in a cradle. Bucky carries him back to the inflatable couch and its seating area and puts him down in his kiddie pool puddle of pussy juice, where he giggles and splashes it.

“Hey, don’t waste that,” Bucky scolds. “Now, stay.” 

Steve instead squeals as he tries to climb out, so Bucky swats gently him on the head. 

“Stay! Nobody’s gonna be here to watch you!”

“I’ll babysit,” Fury offers, taking a seat with a cigar and a whiskey. “C’mon over to Gramps, kiddo.”

Steve squeals again, then clambers out of the pool and crawls over to Fury, trilling. He curls up by his knee to receive pets to his long, pink-highlighted tresses and fluffy curtain bangs, now dry from the hot tub, petting his pretty, pudgy belly. Bucky thanks Fury and turns back to their RV, ducking inside and heading for the second bedroom he and Steve are in. He squeezes between the bed and the wall, lamenting the lack of consideration for fat people in making this thing, and opens an upper cabinet. He takes down a battery-operated, waterproof massage wand, Barbie pink per Steve’s purchasing, then squeezes back out. He exits the RV and finds a couple of new faces in the waterproof chairs around the kiddie pool as well as Bill back on the pink sofa. Fury has braided some of Steve’s hair into thin strands and fastened each at the top and end with the little butterfly clips he always carries around in his pockets; he’s finishing one as Bucky walks up.

“Howdy, friend,” Bill says.

“Hi, I’m Daisy,” one of new people introduces, a girl in a 2000s-era scene punk schoolgirl uniform. “This is Grant, my boyfriend.”

Grant salutes some, the logo for the 75th Army regiment showing under the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. Bucky salutes back then hooks his thumb in his Sheriff badge belt buckle beneath his very generous beer gut.

“You’re lookin’ at what bein’ outta the Rangers for ten years and havin’ a sweet tooth does t’a ya,” he says. “That and a lotta pussy, pussy with a luxury vintage.”

“For eight years, all-access!” Steve confirms cheerfully.

[neds-nickerson]

tbh i hope we get a good nancy drew tv adaptation one day

[sillyandquiteawkward]

So I don’t normally leave comments on anything, but I just wanted to say that I really love your art style and I just recently found your blog. I am a (crap) artist and I just love looking at your stuff and trying to learn….cause I can’t do anatomy, lol.

well thank you for reaching out of your comfort zone to send this message anyway! i appreciate it! however [shaking you] dont call yourself a crap artist esp if you are, as you say... learning ! and its ok to not be super confident in what you can do, but i am rooting you on to keep on arting and learning and growing. i myslef are constantly learning and changing. the wonders of passionate practice.

anatomy is hard! especially if you just dont know where to start or just how to learn from source materials. i hope my art can be a little bit of inspiration to help you figure stuff out in ur mind. i know i myself dont draw with perfect anatomy, but something about it attracted you. take what you like from how i symbolize the body and just go ham!

this is my best advice. love the egg, she is your friend, squish and mold her into funny shapes that look like limbs and torsos.

[hannieween]

good sport | wicked games series

Wonwoo was wrong about one thing. He knew he wasn’t a romantic man. He was never one for theatrics, or big displays of love. But one thing hit him. No, Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t a romantic man. He was a devoted one.

☾ pairings: jeon wonwoo x female reader ☾ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ☾ aus: bartender wonwoo, bartender mingyu, messy love triangle, friends with benefits, right person wrong time ☾ word count: 15.1k

› PREVIOUS CHAPTERS – READ MORE

🎧: roses – jaehyun | truth be told – baekhyun | gemini – ethan low | deja vu – taemin | somebody – jungkook | over you – haon | good sport – hyejin | disco ball – echo huang | say – keshi | nvrmnd – i.m

☾ warnings: smut with plot, hurt/comfort, jealousy, possessiveness. alcohol consumption. hard dom wonwoo, sub reader, masturbation, cumming on skin, cum swallowing (and a little bit of cum play), creampie, blow job, dirty talk, hair pulling, cowgirl, body worshipping. marking: hickeys. these two banter like kids. reader is chubby (there are more in-depth descriptions of her body in this chp). pet names: ma'am, baby, babygirl, shorty, (hers)

☾ author's note: hello hi hi hello there. just here to tell you that the main sex scene is obscenely long again [like wonwoo's c—] AND very descriptive, some of these things they do are slightly kinky, lol. so idk, listen to some sexy music, it's going to be a long ride

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

good sport

Wonwoo woke up with a thought clawing at his mind.

He usually didn’t let his impulses win. But this time, he couldn’t help himself.

Alone in his bed, he stretched his arm beneath the covers, sighing softly. With his eyes closed still, he clung onto the last slivers of his dreams, where he was with you instead.

It was one of those mornings. And at first, he felt so obfuscated by the sensation in his body because it had been so long since the last time he’d woken up like this. He was rock hard. The feeling was so tight that it was beginning to annoy him.

He knew why he had woken up with a raging boner in his pants. He’d just had a dream of you. Just blurs and pieces of him kissing your lips, your body. Glimpses of the faces you make whenever he’s inside you—your voice calling him babe.

Fuck it, he whispered as he slipped a hand beneath the covers, and then his boxers. He didn’t need to play with it at first. His fingers circled his girth, letting out a tiny hiss through his teeth when he found out that he was fully hard.

He pushed the bed covers away with his free hand, now having the space to move his hand on himself. Then he tugged the elastic band of his boxers, pulling his cock out. He started rolling his hand on himself, brushing the tip of his cockhead with the pad of his thumb. There was a good amount of precum leaking from him already, making him sigh a moan.

It was the first time in years he’d done this. Let alone, doing this for a woman who wasn’t entirely his.

But god, it had never felt so good.

He stroked his cock thinking about the last time he had sex with you. The way you looked so pretty, lips swollen from kissing him, teary eyes from the pleasure you were feeling. And your body, god, your body. He’d go to war just so he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.

Wonwoo sighed deeply, keeping his eyes closed to recall the memory. You were a dream. And you felt even better. He rolled his hand faster on his cock, pretending it was your tight and warm cunt swallowing him in. A small moan came out of him when he remembered the sounds of your moans, the sweet way you called him.

In his mind, he was watching your body—how it was the last time. The way your tits bounced gently as he pushed inside you, the way your pretty cunt was glistening with your arousal.

You were perfect for him. Perfect.

“Oh, god,” Wonwoo groaned, pushing his head back on his pillows and letting out a long sigh. He rolled his hand even faster as spurts of cum spilled from him, landing on his abdomen.

He was panting softly, trying to keep himself quiet in case he was heard. He opened his eyes, the light in his room was low, and without his glasses, it was hard to discern the state that he was in.

But he could feel it. He was lying half-naked in his unmade bed. The only things he wore were his boxers and gray sweats, which were messily pushed down.

The first time he slept with you, he knew he was crossing a line. And the second time, he didn’t care about it. And now…

He had a serious problem now.

Wonwoo got up, finding something to clean himself with before going out of his bedroom. Then, standing below the shower, he allowed himself to think.

The last time he saw you, he took you out to grab breakfast. And it was a cozy date, spent laughing and bantering with you. But as the time to go drew near, he found himself staring at a problem. One that, if he isn’t careful, could ruin a lot of things.

Jeon Wonwoo has never considered himself a romantic man. He never did. But lately, he had been debating that. 

Because whenever he was with you, he thought about it. He wanted to say things and do things just so he could see that light in your eyes again. He enjoyed making you laugh, the look on your face as you tilted your head back.

He shut the tap, standing crestfallen to let his hair drip onto the tiles.

Wonwoo knew one thing—he would fall in love with you. He already was.

As soon as Mingyu crossed the door to the gym, he looked around. Every day, he did this with the hope of seeing you by chance, despite knowing that you probably were sticking to coming here while he was at work.

The place was usually quieter in the mornings—the movement inside was slower, and the music coming from the speakers was almost non-existent. There were fewer people, but even so, it felt like everyone was readying for their day.

Mingyu felt restless.

He hadn’t been able to sleep. Part of him tried to convince himself that he was simply just tired. But ever since he saw you with another man, he felt different. Like something in him got triggered, and he hadn’t been able to reel it back.

Part of him knew that this was the aftereffect of his failed relationship with Gigi. The jealousy, the possessiveness. He needed to work through it. The ripple that the cheating and the heartbreak Gigi left in his heart needed to go.

He walked through the machines in the gym until he found an empty spot where he could warm up. He moved mechanically, pushed by muscle memory alone. In his head, he tried to logic his way through it.

Maybe you’ve moved on. Maybe you went back with your ex. Was it someone new? Was it someone he knew?

Each one of those options made him sick. He was too late; that was something he was beginning to come to grips with.

His workout session felt stale, like the usual serotonin boost had failed to kick in. He did his usual push routine in silence, didn’t even bother to put his headphones on. He sat on the bench press for a while, gathering his breath.

He didn’t even realize Jungkook was standing behind him until he raised his gaze, catching a glimpse of his friend in the mirror.

“Energy bar?” Jungkook said, offering a peanut butter and chocolate bar.

Mingyu looked at his friend’s face, who wiggled his eyebrows upon eye contact. “Thanks, man,” he said, grabbing the bar.

“Did you fall out of bed?” Jungkook said, sitting down on the bench next to Mingyu’s.

When Mingyu arched an eyebrow in question, Jungkook pointed a finger to his own eyes, just below. “You look like hell,” he said.

Mingyu forced a nod. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Jungkook took a bite from his bar. “You alright?”

Mingyu gave a non-answer shrug.

Jungkook arched the pierced eyebrow, but didn’t press. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees while he enjoyed another bite from his energy bar.

The silence sat between them, and for a minute, it meant nothing. But Mingyu’s head was loud with dark thoughts, and the best part of him, his self-control, waned at the moment he blinked, seeing you walking with another man in his mind’s eye.

“You talk to her lately?” Mingyu asked with a raspy tone. As though he had been screaming in silence for hours. 

Jungkook raised his head, his brow furrowing deeply. “Who?”

Mingyu didn’t answer.

And Jungkook’s mouth dropped open in acknowledgement. “Oh,” he nodded. “Right. No?”

Mingyu stared at the floor, his finger outlining the corner of his unopened energy bar. “Have you two been hanging out lately?”

Jungkook deadpanned to him. “Uh, no. Not really.”

Mingyu nodded, but the answer didn’t satisfy him. Jealousy, anguish, and something dark roused inside his chest. And before he could stop it, he was already uttering the words: “Are you seeing her?”

Jungkook gaped, staring at Mingyu like he was waiting for the joke to drop. “What?” he finally blurted. “No, man.”

Mingyu shook his head, trying to discard the heavy thoughts clouding his mind. He ran a hand down his face, accidentally wiping the cold sweat on his forehead. “Forget it,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“I’m not seeing her,” Jungkook repeated, his voice even. “We’re just friends. That’s it.”

Mingyu just gave him another nod. “Right.”

Jungkook arched an eyebrow. “Are you okay, man?” he asked. “Do you need to talk?”

Mingyu didn’t answer. The weight of how he’d been behaving was catching up to him. He shook his head, rising from the bench. “I’m sorry,” he said, not making eye contact with his friend. “Thanks for the bar. Catch you later.”

Then he walked toward the locker room, grabbed his bag and walked out of the gym with a quick step. Between the shame, the remorse and the jealousy still brimming inside him, one feeling overpowered him: regret.

The spot was mostly empty.

It was still early, but it was evident that it was going to be a nice, calm shift for the rest of the night.

And thank God it was going to be a quiet shift. Kim Mingyu needed that right now. He needed peace to think. Even though his thoughts weren’t as peaceful.

So, it wasn’t Jungkook.

He pulled out his phone, the pad of his thumb hovering over your name for a second. But no, he couldn't. He didn’t have the right to ask. 

He leaned back against the counter, assessing the activity at the bar. He felt ashamed, but the feeling wasn’t bigger than the anxiety threatening to punch a hole in his heart.

He tried to relieve the tightening feeling in his chest by letting out a big sigh. It didn’t help.

Seungcheol was sitting at one of the stools, which was one of the places he sits whenever he needs to be handed things from the register. Seungcheol was typing on his phone, but keeping an eye on his bartenders and the waitress… who happened to be his girlfriend too.

“Boss,” Mingyu called softly, biting the dead skin from his bottom lip.

“Mm,” Seungcheol replied, not looking at him.

“Could I take the day off on Sunday?” he asked, turning to face Seungcheol. He planted his elbows on the counter.

Wonwoo stopped what he was doing, lifting his head to listen to the conversation.

“What’s the occasion now?” Seungcheol asked, lowering his phone.

“I need to talk to someone,” Mingyu said, aware that Wonwoo was listening to the conversation now.

“And you need the whole day off to do that?” Seungcheol arched one perfect eyebrow. Then he muffled a laugh. “Oh, are you saying that you’re going to talk with someone?” he emphasized, making the word sound more than it meant.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but a wave of embarrassment washed over him. “No, boss. I truly need to talk. I don’t know how much time it’s going to take me.”

Seungcheol paused, his dark eyes analyzing the situation briefly. The look on Mingyu’s face must’ve told him something that he wasn’t expressing with words. “Something wrong?” Seungcheol asked quietly. “Did something happen?”

Mingyu straightened, now realizing that he might’ve exacerbated the situation with the worried look on his face and the ominous way he was requesting his day off. “No, hyung—” he cut himself off with a sigh. “Everything’s good, well, as good as it could be.”

Seungcheol frowned, but then it dawned on him, his mouth dropping. “Is this about the girl you were seeing?”

Mingyu blinked, giving him a tiny nod.

Wonwoo lowered the glass he was pretending to clean. The world had stopped for him, but nobody noticed that. Nobody was aware of the way the air disappeared from his lungs, and he was thankful for once for his capacity for keeping a straight face. And honestly, nobody seemed to pay attention to him at all. 

“Didn’t you break things with her a while ago?” Seungcheol asked innocently, clasping his hands beneath his chin. “What happened now?”

Mingyu had a special connection with Seungcheol. Always had it. But ever since he broke up with Gigi, Mingyu had formed a stronger bond with him. Seungcheol understood him better than anyone, given his past and tumultuous experience with love.  

“I saw her,” Mingyu said quietly, driving his gaze to the ceiling. “She was with another guy.”

Wonwoo blinked, straightening his back as he asked, “When?”

Mingyu looked at his best friend briefly, not noticing the change in tone. “Yesterday.”

Seungcheol made an expression, a downturned smile, his eyebrows pinching softly. “What were they doing?”

Mingyu shook his head lightly. “Nothing. Just walking, talking.”

“They were just talking?” Seungcheol huffed, shrugging slightly. “That doesn’t mean anything. It could be her cousin. A friend.”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu shrugged, his expression still riddled with anxiety. “It didn’t look like he was a friend, you know?”

“Did you see his face?” Seungcheol asked.

“No,” Mingyu shook his head. “I couldn’t see. I just saw her and I—” he cut himself off with a sigh, running a hand down his face.

“Why are you so conflicted about this?” Seungcheol asked with genuine curiosity.

Mingyu lifted his face from his palm. “Hyung, if you’d broken up with your girl but wanted her back and then saw her with some new guy, how would you feel?”

Seungcheol’s gaze darkened for a split second. “Like hell,” he conceded. “But I’d know that she owes me nothing. If I had broken up with her, then I’d know she’s free to move on.”

Seungcheol spoke from a real experience, and this was part of why Mingyu had asked him for guidance. And Seungcheol’s words rang with truth and certainty, but they still didn’t make Mingyu see it. The thought of someone else knowing the sound of your laugh, your voice in the mornings—it made him feel sick.

“Look, you have the day off on Sunday,” Seungcheol said after a long minute. “But don’t be one of those weird guys who only chase one girl because she’s moved on with another guy. It isn’t a nice look.”

“No, I’m—I want to apologize,” Mingyu replied, but then he blinked for a long second. 

“Can’t you text her?” Seungcheol arched his eyebrow again. Then he huffed a laugh. “I mean, if you think she’s moved on, then your apology isn’t needed, right?”

Seungcheol had hit the bullseye. Mingyu flinched, his jealousy returning ten times stronger. But maybe she hasn’t moved on, a crazy voice in his head needed to refute. Maybe what he saw didn’t mean a thing.

“I fucked up,” Mingyu mumbled softly, looking down at his hands. “And I want her back, I can’t just text her that.”

Seungcheol sighed, blinking slowly. “Are you asking for my advice?”

Mingyu gnawed on his bottom lip, nodding shyly.

Seungcheol lowered his phone on the counter, placing his palms flat on it too. “If you want her back, fight for her, but do it right. Show her that you are ready for whatever it is you both need in a relationship. Ask yourself, why do you want her? Why do you think you’re good for her? Why is she good for you?”

There was a long moment between them that stretched for some seconds before Seungcheol nodded, happy with his assessment. “I’ll leave you that for homework,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Now get back to work.”

Seungcheol was right, you were free to do whatever you wanted. If you were starting to go out with another man, then he would have to accept it.

What remained a calm shift for Mingyu was the total opposite for Wonwoo.

The tight feeling coiling around his throat was making it hard for him to breathe.

Mingyu had seen him and you. It was over. He needed to come clean. He needed to tell Mingyu about the night that started it all—his affair with you, and eventually everything that led to this point.

For the remainder of the shift, Wonwoo said nothing, feeling like whatever he said right now could come back to make him look bad. Or worse—a hypocrite. He knew now that he was entering an even more dangerous territory than before, and he needed to play his cards right.

When it was time for closing up, Wonwoo finished his usual tasks quickly—keeping his thoughts to himself usually led him to work faster. So when he sat alone in his old Hyundai, waiting for Mingyu, he thought of what to say.

He hated this.

There was usually no contempt in his heart. He understood that it was his fault that put him in this position, between Mingyu and you.

But he hated that Mingyu figured out what he wanted after he walked away. And not even that, he had multiple opportunities to walk back into your life, but never took them.

And now that Mingyu saw you’d moved on, now he wants to reclaim you? Fight harder for you?

Wonwoo hated that he kissed you so soon after you and Mingyu stopped seeing each other. Timing mattered so much. If things had happened just a few weeks later, maybe none of this would feel so sticky.

Maybe he wouldn’t have started to hope. To fall for you.

But he had.

And now Mingyu was talking about wanting you back. About regrets.

But Mingyu wasn’t there to see you cry.

Wonwoo was the one who was there with you the night you felt like you weren’t enough. Like you were someone to discard after being used. Mingyu wasn’t there to see the aftermath of his choices.

And maybe it was Wonwoo’s fault for falling for you. When he started talking to you, he hadn’t meant for this to happen. But it had. He fell for you. That was something he couldn’t take back because that was the truth.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if it was guilt or rage crawling beneath his skin. Guilt for hiding the truth from Mingyu. Rage because Mingyu realized he wanted you again only after losing you.

Mingyu opened the door to the car, climbing into the passenger seat with a sigh. “Let’s go,” he said tiredly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Wonwoo said quietly.

Mingyu paused, setting his backpack on his lap. “Sure, what’s up?” 

“You had so many chances to walk back into her life,” he said. “Why now?”

Mingyu blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You told me so many times you wanted to call her, text her, but you never did,” he shrugged, keeping his tone calm. “So why now?”

Mingyu sat back on the seat. “I just didn’t feel ready, you know?” he replied, pouting slightly. “I felt like I would only mess up things more.”

“So you’re ready now?” Wonwoo asked softly, his heart beating rapidly, robbing him of the ability to breathe easily.

Mingyu chewed on his lip, giving it careful thought before nodding. “Like I said the last time we talked about this—I want her back.”

“And that last time you said you didn’t know what you were doing,” Wonwoo reminded him. He didn’t raise his tone, but struggled to keep it light. “So now, what is it? You saw her with someone else and changed your mind?”

Mingyu straightened. “No, it’s not like that. I know that’s how it looks like but it’s not like that.”

Wonwoo blinked, still trying to get Mingyu’s side of things.

But something was missing.

“Then explain it to me,” Wonwoo said. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fighting for her once you saw her with another guy. Something you weren’t ready for the first time. Remember? You told me you weren’t all in.”

Mingyu lowered his gaze. “It’s because of Gigi.”

Wonwoo frowned, something inside him stirring with rage again. But he kept it under control. “What does Gigi have to do with all of this?” 

But Mingyu’s gaze was lost, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his backpack anxiously. “I never told you. She cheated on me. With her boss. She did it for weeks while she was still with me.”

Wonwoo went rigid and cold with a powerful shudder. The rage simmering inside him fell quiet too. “What? How?”

Mingyu sighed, blinking slowly. “She would tell me she had these important meetings that extended until late. And I never thought too much about it because she was just promoted. I thought she was just excited and working hard. But… the things she used to say and do weren’t just making sense anymore—like staying up all night working, or going to work on weekends.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard, something deeper than guilt and regret boiling deep inside him as he watched his best friend’s lip quiver, his gaze turned to his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his apology heavy with significance.

“Yeah,” Mingyu whispered, shrugging slightly. “At least her mean attitude towards me made it easier to break up with her, you know?” he smiled bitterly. “But I never told anyone. I was ashamed.”

Wonwoo held his breath, suddenly remembering something. “But you told her.”

He remembered the day he saw you in that cafeteria. “I knew what I was getting myself into”, you had said. And Wonwoo always sat with the thought that you meant that you knew Mingyu was looking for fun. For something casual.

But now, it made sense.

Mingyu nodded. “I thought I was past it when I met her. I thought I could be with someone new and start fresh. But I couldn’t,” he muttered, his voice breaking at the last part of the sentence. “I kept waiting for something to go wrong. I kept thinking I was going to fuck things up. And I thought I was making the right choice—ending things before I hurt her.”

Wonwoo just stared at him. Completely stunned. Something in his chest shifted. “You left because you were scared.”

Mingyu nodded. “And I hated myself for it.”

The silence inside the car was heavy with reluctance. Wonwoo didn’t know what to do or what to say. His heart was even more conflicted than it was before.

“Seeing her with someone else made me go insane,” Mingyu confessed with a bitter laugh, looking out the window in utter shame. “I know that I lost her. I let her go. And I don’t know if I can get her back now.”

Wonwoo looked down at his lap, his hands fidgeting with the keys of his car. Now his decision to tell Mingyu was even more uncertain. Because the one thing he’d told himself to justify how close he’d gotten to you was that Mingyu had used you as a temporary fix.

And now he realized that wasn’t even true anymore.

“Hey,” Wonwoo whispered, waiting for Mingyu to lift his gaze back to him. “I’m sorry I doubted you. And I’m sorry about what happened with Gigi. You never deserved that.”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t know,” Mingyu shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. “This whole thing is a fucking mess.”

Wonwoo sighed. “You’re right about that,” he said, lifting a hand to palm Mingyu’s shoulder.

He turned the engine on, and the drive back home was quiet, dedicated to reflecting.

Inevitably, Wonwoo thought about you. Even though he got an insight into Mingyu’s story, he couldn’t help but think that you were hurt about this too. Knowing now that Mingyu got cheated on changed things for Wonwoo. It made him feel even more guilty.

But it still didn’t move his feelings for you.

He parked outside the building, and Mingyu geared up to climb out of the car.

“You go, I have to make a call,” Wonwoo explained softly.

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “Are you going to tell me about this… mysterious person you’re seeing?” he grinned.

Wonwoo’s heart twisted painfully. “Yeah, one day,” he replied, forcing a smile on his face.

“Right. See you, then,” Mingyu said, understanding that Wonwoo's “calling” someone meant something else.

He obviously didn’t suspect that it was you Wonwoo was calling.

Wonwoo turned the engine off, palming the steering wheel with a sigh.

The next movements were performed mechanically. As though everything in his body was refusing to get to your door, but he had to push himself to do it. He’d texted you beforehand, so you were already waiting for him at the door when he knocked two times.

You opened the door, stepping aside for him to come in. There was a subtle air surrounding you when he stepped into your apartment, as though you already knew what was going on. He’d tell you he was coming to yours to talk about something. Didn’t mention what. 

“Hi,” he said softly, now knowing what to do with his body.

He wanted to hug you, to feel your arms circle him as he walked in—to kiss you like real lovers did.

“Hey there,” you mumbled sweetly.

Wonwoo blinked slowly, letting out the words you already knew he’d say. “We need to talk.”

Your shoulders slacked a little. You had been hoping this moment wouldn’t arrive, but you nodded bravely. “Did something happen?” you asked first, your eyebrows knitting softly in worry.

Wonwoo nodded, carefully removing his shoes and leaving them by the entrance. You motioned silently to the couch, and he followed you there. You sat by one end, far apart from him, to look in his face.

He sighed softly, turning on his seat so he could also look at you. “Mingyu knows.”

You held your breath, your eyes outlining the features of his face cautiously. “How did he find out?” you asked, then a pause. “Did you tell him?”

Wonwoo shook his head, not finding it offensive that you’d think he would tell Mingyu before consulting with you first. “That’s the thing, he doesn’t know it’s me. He just saw us the other day.”

Perplexion hardened the features of your face, making it hard to muster up a reaction. “Okay,” you mumbled, feeling lost. “Do you think is a good idea to tell him?” you asked, looking at the features of his face.   

You understood that Mingyu was Wonwoo’s best friend. His roommate and coworker, things were complicated already. But there was something else tensing the air between you and Wonwoo.

He tilted his head to one side, licking his lips as though lost for words. “He was outside your building when he saw us,” he started explaining, and your heart jolted at the sound of those words. “He was here to talk to you.”

“Why?” The word fell quietly from your lips.

You could tell that he was trying to say the next words carefully, but there was no way he could hold their impact: “He was here to ask you for a second chance,” he mumbled gently, but even his eyes glinted with sadness.

“What?” You blurted, feeling like you were being played some kind of joke.

Wonwoo understood you well. But this was the first time he felt outright confused by your reaction. “I didn’t know his ex cheated on him,” he said, reading your reaction.

You blinked in surprise, breath catching in your throat. You knew Mingyu hadn’t revealed this part of the story to anyone out of shame. And your reaction told Wonwoo that you were already aware of this.

“And not knowing this gave me the wrong impression when he broke things with you,” he continued, blinking away from your face. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the icky feeling building up. “I thought he’d used you. Regretted it later.”

“Well, you’re technically not wrong there,” you said with a stiff, bitter laugh.

But then Wonwoo gave you a look. One that had a million words but just one sentiment, like saying, the truth will only break your heart. A pause—choosing to go forward with it or just holding it back.

“I don’t think he did,” he whispered, struggling to get the words out. “At least not on purpose.”

It was as though you were plunged back in time. Back to the basketball court. You were sitting on those damn bleachers, looking at Mingyu, his tortured face as he told you he needed to cut things off with you. You blinked hard, sighing out the pain constricting your chest.

He regretted cutting things off with you. He wanted a second chance.

You looked around, fingers shaking slightly when you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Have a glass of wine with me,” you said, feeling breathless.

Wonwoo stopped, but then he saw the look on your face. He allowed himself to really see it this time. You looked tense, and he could see in your eyes that you were ready to cry. “Sure,” he replied, keeping an eye on you.

You rose to your feet, getting the bottle of wine you had stashed in the kitchen cabinet. Mingyu knows, the thought echoed inside your head, creating a painful ripple in your heart. You sniffled, harder this time, as you searched for the bottle opener.

Wonwoo stood up the moment he heard you sob, concern taking over him as you tried to push yourself through opening the bottle. You stuck the corkscrew, twisting it as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, but you held them there.

He brought a hand to your shoulder, trying to call your attention back to him, to snap you out of the task you were so determined to get done without crying.

But you ignored his hand, pulling the corkscrew out successfully. “I need two glasses,” you mumbled, almost as if you were talking to yourself.

“Hey,” Wonwoo called softly, but you turned around, opening the other cabinet as you searched for a glass of wine.

“I only have one glass for wine,” you said, your voice already constipated due to all the tears you were trying to hold back. You set the glass down. “I’ll use a mug.”

Wonwoo sighed, grabbing the bottle and pushing it aside as you were turning around with a mug in your hand. “Stop,” he said, taking a step closer towards you.

“What?” you snapped, lifting your head to face him.

“Stop for a second,” he mumbled with a gentler tone this time. “Let’s talk about this.”

You blinked slowly, letting go of a pair of big tears. “I don’t have anything to say.”

Then you turned, grabbing the bottle of wine to pour half of it in the large mug you’d pulled out.

“You’re using alcohol as an outlet,” he blurted, trying to bring some sense to you.

“So what?” you replied heedlessly, taking a big gulp. You sniffled with a hint of annoyance, using your hands to brush your tears away. “I’m tired of crying,” you gasped, burying your face in your hands.

Wonwoo’s heart jolted painfully, his eyebrows knitting in worry. “There’s nothing wrong with crying. It’s completely normal,” he replied.

“No, it’s not!” You said, your voice breaking mid-sentence. “I’m tired of this. And it’s not getting better!” You lifted your face from your hands. “I’m not getting better.”

He blinked at you, feeling perplexed. There were no words to make you see that you’d been getting better, at least to him. There was a spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before, you were laughing more, and you were eager to do things again.

The fact was, you were trying to get better. Every day, you challenged yourself to push yourself forward. But, something or someone always ruined things for you. Your shitty ex, Mingyu’s indecisiveness, and now…

Wonwoo’s heart caved in. If he hadn’t given in to his feelings and kissed you that night, you wouldn’t be crying right now. This was his fault. He could’ve walked away after kissing you, but no—he slept with you, allowing you to become the subject of every waking thought he had.

He was in love with you. But caught now in a predicament. One that had no pretty outcome.

You lowered your head, sniffling quietly as you held onto the counter. Wonwoo blinked, the image before him becoming reminiscent of the night he kissed you for the first time.

You’d been getting better, yes. But it was the people around you who were stopping you at each step you made.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

You stilled, processing the words for a moment. “What? Why?” You asked, lifting your head to find his gaze.

“I’m making things worse for you,” he explained with a pained tone. “Listen, I can deal with Mingyu, tell him about us if you want me to. But I don’t want this to hurt you anymore.” 

You frowned, thrown back by his words. “You-you’re—” you stammered, then paused to take a breath. “What are you saying?”

“If I’m making things difficult for you, I should step back,” he told you stiffly, as though holding his true feelings just to do the right thing for you.

You let out a tiny gasp, understanding dawning on you. “No, I don’t want you to leave,” you told him, and then, with a fragile tone, “Please don’t leave.”

His heart rested easy at the sound of your pleas.

When you and Wonwoo started… whatever your relationship was, he knew that he was the rebound. There was no need for either of you to say it. You were hurting, alone, and he was there to pick up the pieces.

But your relationship had evolved into something more. And there was no way either of you could’ve stopped it. There was an inexplicable connection between you that wasn’t just based on sexual synergy. You trusted Wonwoo—to the extent that you had found more than comfort in him.

He didn’t move. If he stayed, then he would owe Mingyu a bigger explanation. Because one thing was to be with you because he thought that he was being your rebound. But it was different to be with you, knowing full well that Mingyu—his best friend—still loved you.

He hated to be between you and Mingyu.

Why did he have to lose one of you to have a resolve?

You saw the stiffness of his posture, the hesitation in him. You took one careful step towards him, your teary eyes searching his face. “I-if you want to go, I won’t stop you. But don’t go because you think you’re doing what’s best for me.”

His eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and confusion. He asked himself when was the moment he lost control. Would it have been the moment you kissed you for the first time? Because looking into your eyes, he was sure it was much earlier.

Silence stretched between you, and real fear began to show in your eyes. You held your breath, gearing up to hear him say that he couldn’t do this anymore. Gearing up to watch him walk away from you. Like everyone always did. 

It always happened. You should just be getting used to it by now.

“I don’t think I want to leave,” he finally said, his tone dejected in a way that only told you this decision was hard for him.

You met his gaze again. Wonwoo had made his choice. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his heart was racing, but you could see the quiet resolve on his face.

His features softened. “We need to come clean,” he told you. “We have to tell Mingyu. And I think the best way to do it is if I tell him.”

You nodded slowly, and the heavy weight in your chest became more unbearable. “And then what?”

He stilled, knowing what you meant. “Whatever you decide to do. When we come down to it.”

You took in a deep breath, lowering your gaze. Wonwoo’s hand was planted on the counter, a few inches from yours. You slid your hand across, sheepishly touching his fingers slowly at first.

Wonwoo turned his hand over, tangling his fingers with yours. He stared at your linked hands for a second, as you brushed the back of his hand with the pad of your thumb. “I don’t want you to feel pressured by this.”

You huffed with a hint of bitterness. “Too late for that,” you whispered.

Wonwoo showed you a sad smile. He felt your soft fingers playing with his, wishing he could get an opportunity to turn things around. “You know, when you asked me if I wished things happened differently between us, I said sometimes?” he whispered, looking at your hand locked in his.

“Yeah?” you raised your head, looking at his eyes, but he kept them lowered.

He licked his lips, pressing them into a line. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances,” he muttered, his tone quivering slightly.

You held your breath, your heart stammering wildly. “Why?” you asked softly.

He raised his gaze, locking it with yours. “So I would’ve been able to ask you out, get to know you without fear or prejudice about what might happen.”

And fall in love with you without feeling so guilty about it.

Wonwoo was wrong about one thing. He knew he wasn’t a romantic man. He was never one for theatrics or big displays of love. But one thing hit him. No, Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t a romantic man. He was a devoted one.

You lowered your face. “That would’ve been lovely,” you said.

He removed his hand from yours so he could cup your face with his hands, forcing your gaze to him. “But whatever happens, I want you to know that I don’t regret us.”

A sob tore through you. “I don’t regret it either,” you admitted.

It was complicated. To love two people at once. To sit with the fact that choosing one will break the other. But no matter how much you wished things had happened differently, you didn’t regret meeting Mingyu, nor Wonwoo.

Wonwoo leaned forward, and you met him halfway in a brief kiss. Feeling his lips on yours was liberating in a way. Despite everything that was happening, you felt alive in every kiss of his. At least for one more night.

He slipped his hands from your face to your neck, grabbing it gently as he continued making out with you. The kiss was growing more and more demanding, his tongue brushing yours, his lips making a smacking noise against yours every time either of you moved.

You back away slightly, and he understood you wanted to pause, leaning his forehead against yours. “Are you staying tonight?” you asked, your tone quivering slightly.

“Do you want me to?”

You cupped his cheek with your hand, brushing his skin with the pad of your thumb. “Yeah. Always,” you whispered.

“Then ask me to stay,” he replied in kind.

“Please stay the night,” you told him, breaking away from him to look him in the eyes.

Wonwoo smiled softly. “Okay,” he said, using his hands that were on your neck to bring you in for another kiss.

You hummed into the kiss, unable to do anything but give in to it. You loved it. His kiss was always captivating, he was gentle in his touch, but rough enough to make you feel how much he needed you.

And he did. Ever since he kissed you for the first time, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind.

But he liked it.

Your hand found his chest, getting a feel of the muscle definition between his pecs through his t-shirt. His breath hitched, the sound soft but noticeable as he kept kissing you. But your hand kept travelling further down, feeling the lines and dents between the muscles of his abdomen, and his breathing shifted.

Your fingers sneaked beneath his t-shirt, feeling his skin. You planted your hand on the lower part of his torso, the pads of your thumb brushing against the soft hairs of his happy trail.

Wonwoo broke away with a loud smacking noise of his lips and yours. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and so low.

“So what?” you replied, this time your voice was honeyed and low like a purr. “If I continue like this, I might get what I want.”

“What do you want?” he asked, shuddering slightly when your hand moved up his torso, making its way back to his chest, but now underneath his clothes.

“I want you, Wonwoo,” you whispered. Then something invaded you, and you knew what it was. The same reason why you resorted to drinking whenever you felt like reality was the bitterest thing you’ve ever had.

Wonwoo made things easier. He made you feel alive.

“Then take me,” he whispered back, tilting his head slightly, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. “Tell me how you want me, baby.”

Your entire body was shaking, brimming with so much need that you felt like combusting. Part of you felt alarmed, pathetic. Wanting him so much was becoming your addiction.

But you didn’t care.

You loved it when he fucked you, hard and deep. But this time… this time you wanted to please him.

“I want to make you feel good,” you told him, leaning your face to kiss him.

But he pulled back, making you chase his lips. “How?”

You stopped for a second, backing away to look at his face. You tilted your head to one side, aware of his hands on your neck. “Just relax while I make you feel good, hm?” you said with a sweet tone.

Wonwoo laughed softly, closing the space between his lips and yours with a sweet kiss. “Yes, ma’am,” he breathed.

You took his hand, removing it from your neck to pull him towards the couch, debating in your head as to how to start doing this. There were so many things you wanted to do, but reminiscing about the last time you both had sex, there was one thing you hadn’t gotten the chance to do.

You started to remove his clothes, one by one, without pausing to admire his body yet. That was something you’d do later. But first, you needed to get him naked.

And he didn’t question you, he just helped you as you struggled to get his jeans off, or when you removed his t-shirt and messed up his glasses, and he laughed, placing them back on the bridge of his nose. He noticed you were nervous, but didn’t say a word about it.

Because when you finally got every single item of clothes off, you could get to do what you were fantasizing about since the last night he fucked you.

But first, you explored his bare body, running your palms from his chest to his abdomen, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. And he reciprocated the kiss, touching your lips tenderly at first.

“Don’t I get to take your clothes off?” he whispered, but to you, it sounded like the sexiest thing he could say.

“If you want to,” you whispered back.

“Of course I do,” he said, his fingers fumbling with the hem of your t-shirt, which you wore to sleep. So he knew what he was going to find when he took it off. And that was that you wore no bra, and his hands could explore your skin freely.

He didn’t stop kissing you, his hands roving on your skin, feeling the deep line of your back before circling back to your chest. A moan was muffled in his lips when he started cupping your tits, his fingers playing with your nipples, teasing them and making your walls clench around nothing.

“Do you know how much I love these?” he said, his tone waning a little over the pleasure he felt just from touching you.

“You do?” you asked sultrily, looking at his face while his hands played with your tits.

He breathed in deeply, nodding as his hands squeezed them gently, the tips of his fingers dipping onto your soft skin.

You closed your eyes, shuddering slightly when his thumbs brushed over your pebbled nipples once more. He slipped his hands down, then to your lower back, to pull you closer, your chest pressed to his.

“Take these off,” he whispered, lifting the elastic band of your sweatpants and letting it slap back against your skin. You pushed the sweatpants, letting them drop to the floor and stepped out of them, kicking them aside.

You darted a look at his eyes, then his lips. “Can I suck you off?”

“You don’t have to ask,” he smirked slightly. “I’m all yours.”

A tiny gasp escaped your lips before you pressed them against his, kissing him swiftly once before pulling away from him. Then, you meekly turned around, grabbed a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the floor, just between your feet and his.

Wonwoo watched you, a ghost of a smile on his face as you sank to your knees, using the cushion as support. You looked back up, he was using his hand to put his glasses back in place, his thumb and index finger touching the black rim of his glasses carefully.

God, he’s so hot and unaware of how much that turns you on, you thought as you let your body rule you, taking his hard cock in your hand, fingers circling its shaft. You felt his eyes on you as you pulled your tongue out, giving him a long and generous stroke from the base to the tip of his cock. You glided the tip of your tongue around his cockhead, tracing a circle before wrapping your mouth around it and started to suck.

But you were just teasing him a little, before you got to suck him off. You pulled your mouth back, letting your lips smack loudly around the head, and then teased him again with broad strokes, letting your spit cover his shaft completely, messily.

Your lashes were lowered, so you didn’t see his reaction, but you heard it—he breathed in loudly, letting a deep groan resound in his chest. You could almost picture him, clenching his jaw, closing his eyes.

A hand came to the side of your head, his lithe fingers tangling in your hair just lightly. That’s when you dared to look up—your gaze locking with his immediately. Wonwoo caressed your cheek with his thumb, bringing his other hand to match the other, now grabbing your head.

You let your mouth relax, gliding it back and forth on his cock. Wonwoo parted his lips, blinking slowly at the image of his cock inside your mouth, your pretty lips around it.

“A-ah, fuck,” he whispered slowly, sighing through it. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You rolled your tongue around his cockhead, making him moan as you pushed him back in as far as you could.

But he was big, and you struggled every time he reached the back of your mouth. You pulled your mouth back, hollowing out your cheeks and making obscenely lewd sounds with your lips around him.

You got more and more aroused with the sounds he made, which he tried to keep quiet and in check. His throat bobbed every time he tried not to moan, but he shuddered, sighed, and bit his bottom lip, making you repeat everything that made him do those things.

“I’m close, baby,” he said with a hint of urgency, grabbing your head to pull back gently.

A string of drool hung between your mouth and the tip of his cock. He was completely covered with your spit, from the tip to the hilt, and it seemed insane to you for a second that the sight of it made you even more aroused. A shudder ran from your nape to your lower back.

“I want to keep going,” you said, glancing at his eyes.

“If we keep going, I’ll cum in your mouth,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. The tips of his ears were red, as though the act made him feel shy, embarrassed that he couldn’t last longer while he was in your mouth.

“What if I want that?” you asked slowly, also feeling shy as you said the words.

He debated it for a second. But you knew he would give in. The tip of his cock was swollen, and red, its shaft slick with your spit and the thick vein that trailed to his base was also flared.

You ran a finger from his happy trail to the lower part of his shaft and then looked into his eyes. “Do you want to fuck my mouth, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed hard, the features of his face shifting and hardening slightly. “Open your mouth,” he instructed, his hands tightening his grip around your hair without pulling it.

You opened your mouth for him, letting your tongue hang slightly as you locked eyes with him.

He rested the first couple of inches of his cock on your tongue, his thumb pressing on your temple just slightly. “Take a deep breath for me, baby,” he said with a low rasp. 

You blinked, but out of the euphoric feeling that rushed down your spine. You breathed through your nose deeply, and it was when you exhaled that he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, starting to fuck it with slow, tentative thrusts.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, watching you take him almost to the hilt. “You take me so well.”

You held onto his hips, feeling his muscles tense and shift as he pushed in and out of your mouth. His mouth went slack, his eyelids falling heavy as he let out a raw moan.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

His strokes were still slow, but each time you took him deeper, gagging softly when he started to reach the back of your mouth.

“Breathe, baby,” he reminded you. “You’re doing so good, just breathe. That’s it, that’s it,” he tilted his head back, pushing his cock deeper, and deeper.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, which he caught quickly with the pads of his thumbs. Keeping your head angled for him as he continued fucking your mouth slowly. The pleasure on his face was evident—his mouth was parted, his breaths were laboured, blinking slowly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered hurriedly, pulling his cock back from your throat but keeping it in your mouth. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, baby—” he sighed, deeply, his chest heaving as he started moaning repeatedly.

Spurts of cum landed on the back of your tongue, warm and abundant, almost making you cough and choke. But you swallowed every last drop of it, looking at him through your teary eyelashes.

He was panting, a complete mess of tired moans and half-babbles. “So good,” was one thing you could make out.

He pulled out of your mouth gently, letting you breathe and swallow back the taste of him. You raised your gaze, catching his as he lowered himself to his knees.

“Lie back, baby,” he said, motioning to the floor behind you.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“Let me repay in kind,” he mumbled, trapping your lips with his in a swift kiss. He hummed, kissing you again but deeper, his tongue rolling inside your mouth, and obviously tasting himself.

“I’m good,” you whispered. “You must be tired.”

“I said,” he pushed your shoulder with one hand. “Lie back.”

You giggled, following his words without anything else to say. You looked at him as he moved the cushion aside, his hands moving to grab the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs.

Then he crawled on top of you, pressing his body on yours, but without lowering his full weight on you. “You were so good, baby,” he praised, his tone low and gentle at the same time.

You slipped your hands on his nape, pulling him for a long kiss, feeling his tongue with yours, his lips fitting in yours so well. It was like you were meant for each other.

He paused, pulling away from your lips for a second. You watched him as he grabbed his glasses by one of the temples, pulling them on in one complete motion. “Hold these for me?”

You nodded, exchanging a quick look with him as you grabbed his glasses by the rim, folding them in your hand as he moved on your body. He made a trail of kisses, pressing his lips on your cheek, your jawline, the crook of your neck.

And when he reached your chest, his hands cupped your tits again, but now squeezing them a little harder as he kissed the swell of your chest, humming against your skin. You moaned, grabbing a fistful of hair, when the tip of his tongue swirled around one of your nipples.

The sensation of his wet tongue against your nipples made your pussy clench again, having you close your thighs instinctively. “Wonwoo,” you moaned with urgency.

He made no verbal reply, instead, he continued to descend with his trail of kisses. He kissed your tummy, his hands leaving your chest and caressing your torso, feeling the curve of your waist and pressing on your hips.

He planted open-mouthed kisses on your lower tummy, wetting his lips before he suckled on your skin.

You flinched. “Wonwoo!” You gasped, lifting your head to see him suck a new spot on your skin, marking you with hickeys.

But he paid no attention to the warning in your tone. He kissed your mound, your thighs, leaving angry red spots scattered all over your skin.

You moaned pathetically as he marked your inner thighs, leaving a tingling sensation all over your skin. You called his name one more time, his breath fanning on your sensitive skin, making you sigh a moan.

“Please…” you whispered, swallowing hard as he kissed the top of your mound.

And then he slipped his tongue between your pussy lips, bringing two fingers to part your folds, licking you thoroughly, covering your pussy with his kisses, licking and nipping just to tease you.

You felt like you were slowly going insane. He was practically making out with your pussy, tasting and drinking you in—but never quite doing what he knew made you cum.

“Wonwoo, please,” you mewled, closing your eyes and tightening your hand around his hair. “Just, make me cum.”

He hummed against your pussy, as though acknowledging your plea but not really caring about it.

So you begged.

“Please, please, please, Wonwoo,” you said, trying to buckle your hips against his mouth, but he pushed you back down onto the floor effortlessly.

You gasped, feeling his tongue circling your clit, but then sliding it back to your entrance, dipping it just slightly inside your pussy. “God, fuck, Wonwoo, please,” you gasped.

He let out a sound. And after some seconds, it dawned on you that it had been a laugh.

“Babe, please!” you cried. And to add to it, you raked your fingernails on his scalp, pulling his hair harshly.

That did it. Wonwoo moaned into your pussy, giving into your plea and giving you exactly what you wanted.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, pushing his tongue against it and gently jabbing it from side to side, teasing it expertly.

You arched your back on the floor, your fingers twisting around his hair as you moaned loudly. “Fuck, Wonwoo, yes!” you gasped as pure pleasure bloomed inside you, from the pit of your stomach to your face. “Just like that, baby,” you said, with a high-pitched tone that sounded nothing like yourself.

But he didn’t relent, pleasuring and teasing your clit like his life depended on it. He didn’t switch the motion of his tongue, nor the pace, his breathing becoming notoriously more ragged against your skin.

“I’m close, I’m close, babe…” You said, writhing on the floor, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. “Don’t stop, please.”

And he didn’t, his tongue kept the same pattern until you couldn’t hold it anymore. Your eyes squeezed shut, seeing stars as waves of sweet, sweet pleasure washed over you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” you sighed, over and over, cumming on his mouth like you’d never before. Your orgasm was so brutal, so merciless that it had you shaking, panting and moaning desperately.

You signalled him to stop, patting his head softly.

Wonwoo let out a deep breath, resting his head on your tummy as he caught his breath.

“God, that was amazing,” you sighed, still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That felt so good.”

“Yeah?” he smiled tiredly. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Yeah…” you replied, about to say thank you to him, the thought making you laugh lightly.

“What’s that?” he asked, squinting a little.

“Nothing,” you sighed, feeling breathless still. But that didn’t stop you. You were still on a mission. “Sit back,” you told him suddenly.

“What?”

“Sit with your back against the couch.” You ordered, moving your body underneath him.

That made him lift his head from your tummy, pushing his body up with a sigh. “Okay,” he said slowly, following your command. “Can I have my glasses back?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you said with a light giggle.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, putting his glasses back on, blinking at you as you quite literally crawled up to him.

You held onto the couch behind him for support, crossing one leg on top of him, his hands instantly grabbing you by the hips as you straddled him.

“Are you ready for me, babe?” you asked, your tone honeyed and raspy at the same time.  

He blinked, his eyes finding your face. There was a twinge of surprise on his face that was quickly overpowered by a smile, spreading on his features slowly. “I like it when you call me babe,” he rasped, using his hands to sit you down on him.

You could feel his hard cock beside your thigh. “Yeah?” you smiled sweetly at him.

He nodded. “Drives me crazy,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss your lips tenderly.

“Hhmm,” you let out a sigh against his lips. “You drive me a little crazy,” you told him.

“I know,” he replied, giggling softly as you continued planting soft pecks on his lips.

“Oh, yeah?” you challenged, “How do you know?”

He brought one hand to your nape, kissing you deeper. “You’re about to ride my cock, baby,” he said with a playfulness masking his tone.

“My cock,” you said, pressing your lips on his again.

That robbed him of words, making him tilt his head to one side ever so slightly. “Oh, is that how it is?” he raised his eyebrows. “Your cock?”

You nodded. “You said you were all mine, so,” you giggled, moving your hips back and grabbing his cock with one hand.

His gaze darkened as he followed your movements, biting his lower lip as you slid the tip of his cock between your folds. A moan escaped your mouth when you felt just how wet you were, his cockhead practically gliding down to your entrance.

But his hand clenched around your hip. “I wanna hear you say it,” he rasped.

You paused, holding his gaze intently. It took you some seconds to realize. “You’re mine,” you whispered.

He closed his mouth, grinding his teeth as he nodded. “I’m yours,” he replied, watching you sit down on his cock.

“Is this cock mine too?” You gasped softly, not hiding the stinging in your eyes as his cock stretched your walls deliciously.

He swallowed hard, tilting his head back as you bottomed out on him. “All yours,” he breathed, blinking slowly.

“Mine,” you mumbled almost absentmindedly, the feeling of being so full of him overpowered everything else, making your mind go blank.

“Uh-huh,” he mouthed, his voice almost gone as you started bouncing on him. He watched you work, his hand still on your hip while the other circled your neck, the palm of his hand resting on your jugular.

His gaze fell on your lips, then trailed back to your eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered when you caught his eye.

You leaned over, kissing him softly as you kept riding him, moving your hips slowly, feeling him fully.

But it was becoming uncomfortable for your knees, even if you had a good support and the floor was better than the bed. You pulled one knee out, planting the sole of your foot on the floor for better support, swaying your hips on him effortlessly now.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” he instructed with a gentle tone, noticing that you were still holding onto the couch behind him.

You followed his words, switching your hands to his broad and lean shoulders. You looked at his face, his messy hair, and full lips, chapped from kissing you so many times.

“You’re beautiful too,” you told him.

He showed you a small smile, but said nothing else as he watched you fuck him. “You feel so good,” he mumbled, his tone raw and raspy as he swallowed hard.

“Yeah?” you sighed, bringing your hips up and down more arduously, the sound of skin slapping against his was now becoming more obvious to the neighbors. If it wasn't already obvious enough.

His hand remained on your neck, pulling you gently to kiss you, his lips trapping yours fervently.

You sighed heavily, out of both exhaustion and the urgency to cum. Fucking him like this made you feel fuller, his cock slipping inside you deeper each time you slammed your hips down on him.

But Wonwoo noticed, from the sound of your lewd and whiny gasps to the exhaustion in your face. “Stroke yourself,” he said.

You removed your hand from one of his shoulders, but before taking it between your thighs, you paused right before his mouth. Wonwoo watched you as your fingertips hovered before his lips for just one second before he took your fingers inside your mouth.

You moaned at both the sight and the feeling of his warm mouth around your fingers. You pulled them out once they were coated with his spit, and took them to your pussy. You started rubbing fast swirls around your clit, nearly screaming from the pleasure building inside you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, switching his hand from your neck to your hips, now both of his hands circling back to your ass, clenching gently, and helping you move on him.

The features of his face were riddled with pleasure, and he swallowed back his moans, clenching his jaw without removing his gaze from you. You knew he was close, but holding himself back for you.

There it was again, as you both looked in each other’s eyes, that electric feeling hung in the air between you. You were both moaning each other’s names, unable to look away or to do anything else but get more and more pleasure from each other’s bodies.

You loved him. You were addicted to him.

“You’re mine, baby,” he whispered, blinking slowly at you. “You’re fucking mine.”

Your mouth parted, letting out a whiny and high-pitched moan. “Wonwoo—”

He felt your body tremble, and he nodded. “Cum for me, baby,” he said. “That’s it, that’s it. Let go for me.”

Your head lolled back. Once again, the pleasure inside you overwhelmed you to the point that your mind went blank. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a series of loud moans, crying out his name as you bounced on his cock, cumming hard around him.

And he followed, unable to hold his orgasm once your pussy started to tighten around him. “Oh, god,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

His hands helped you ride him until you couldn’t do it anymore, your body going completely limp on top of him.

You were panting, sweaty, and a complete mess. And Wonwoo was too. He let his head rest back on the couch behind him, his cock buried deep inside you still.

Breathing hard, you leaned your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as you both came down from your high.

None of you said a word. Just let the peace blanket over you.

His hands caressed your back, his breath becoming more even. “Baby,” he mumbled after some minutes had passed. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

“Mmn,” you hummed against the curve of his neck, pressing a sweet kiss on his skin.

He flinched, laughing as your breath fanned against his skin. “Come on, baby,” he said, his tone heavy with tiredness.

“Okay,” you replied, pushing your body back.

You looked down, lifting your body just slightly before you felt it.

You were dripping wet. Cum spilled out before you could even lift your hips off Wonwoo’s cock. A light laugh slipped past your lips as you felt the warm liquid run down your inner thigh.

His hand sneaked between your thighs, stopping the cum from travelling further down. “Look at the mess you’re making,” he chastised, clicking his tongue sternly. But there was a playful look on his face as he glanced at you.

“Me?” you asked in faux disbelief. “It’s your mess. I didn’t know you were going to cum this much,” you giggled, cringing at the sound of your words.

Wonwoo laughed darkly. “You have a filthy mouth, babygirl,” he said, sticking his fingers coated with his cum inside your mouth without a warning.

You licked his fingers clean, your lips making a small popping sound as he pulled them out. “I may have a filthy mouth, but you seemed to love it like two minutes ago,” you said, biting back a smile.

His mouth dropped open, letting out a dramatic gasp. “Get up before I spank you silly.”

“Sounds like a good time to me,” you said, giggling as you got up, hurrying to the bathroom.

He followed you inside, practically chasing you. He trapped you in his arms, making you squeal and giggle as his hands clenched around very sensitive parts of your waist.

“You’re very naughty,” he said, but there was a slight hint of cuteness aggression marking the features of his face.

“You like me anyway,” you snapped, trying to get to the shower tap, which you turned once it was within your reach.  

“I do,” he whispered, his gaze falling to your lips.

You stilled, the sound from the shower filling the silence. You looked into his eyes, feeling like there was more to his words.

You stood on your tiptoes, hands grabbing his face to kiss him deeply. “I like you too, Wonwoo.”

“I know,” he whispered, leaning his forehead on yours.

And he knew that there was something more to your words. Even if none of you dared to say it yet.

After you both cleaned up, you were lying on your bed, huddled comfortably beneath the bed covers, your head resting on top of his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

Wonwoo was deep in thought, not quite falling asleep yet. And you wondered what was keeping him up, but you suspected that it was the same thing that was keeping you up.  

“When you talk to him,” Wonwoo whispered into the silence. “Whatever your choice is, I want you to know that I’ll respect it.”

You frowned, blinking as understanding dawned on you. “Wonwoo, are you—”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he cut in, still using a gentle tone. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me something. Just choose according to what you feel is best for you, okay?”

You showed him a pained smile. “You must want something out of this,” you told him.

He shook his head lightly. “Just you,” he mumbled. “But if you choose him, I’ll understand.”

You stared at him, limbs rigid with pain and something more.

Wonwoo pinched your chin softly, like he wanted to give you some comfort, but his next words just did the opposite: “I know you still feel something for him,” he told you, the ghost of a smile stretching his lips, but failing to reach his eyes.

You blinked away briefly, lip trembling as you tried to push the tight feeling in your heart. “That’s true, I do feel something for him still.”

He stilled, his breath stopping for a second. But he remained looking at your face, as though memorizing your features.

“But I also feel something for you,” you whispered, tears brimming and quickly spilling from your eyes. But there it was, the truth. You’d said it, and there was no taking it back now.

It hurt. Knowing that you were between two things that your heart couldn’t pay attention to fully. You wanted Wonwoo. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss Mingyu every day.

But he smiled, a tender look reaching his eyes as he brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers. “I know,” he whispered.

“Then why are you telling me this?” you asked.

He already knew his answer, but there was a slight struggle to get it out. Like he’d been waiting to tell you this, but couldn’t find the moment to do it. “I want you to be happy,” he said, his voice barely a murmur. “You deserve to feel loved. And someone who makes you happy.”

You looked him straight in his eyes. Your heart had paused, but something in you had pushed you to say the next words, “And do you think you could be that person?”

His lips parted briefly, but he nodded, his gaze descending to your lips and then back to your eyes. “I think things are very complicated right now for me to tell you, but if the time comes, I will,” he whispered, pinching your chin one more time.

You pushed yourself to cup his cheek, meeting his lips with your own in a featherlight kiss. Wonwoo gasped softly, but returned the kiss, moving his hand to your cheek too.

A million thoughts reeled in your mind, like comets dancing in the sky, and you failed to catch every single one of them. But you knew one thing—Wonwoo cared about you. He had shown you nothing else but unwavering trust and affection. 

But there was something coiling in your heart, tugging you back. You wanted to meet him where he was—you did. You knew, deep down, that if things were different, you’d be reciprocating his love, loud and honestly.

It was your heart that was still on the way.

“Wonwoo…” you breathed on his lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, brushing your hair back with his hand. He let out a soft breath through his nose, touching your forehead with his. “I know, baby.”

He ran a fingertip from your temple to your jawline, looking at your features like it was the last time. There was no need to say it—neither of you had to. The words hung in the air as you and he shared a long look.

Wonwoo smiled, pressing his lips to the tip of your nose. “Are you ready to sleep yet?” he asked.

You shook your head lightly. You were tired, but you needed to stretch this moment while you still could. “I want to stay up just for a little longer,” you said, snuggling closer to him beneath the covers.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Is there anything you want to do?”

You nodded. “Can we make out?” you asked with a shy giggle.

Wonwoo smiled slowly, turning over on the bed so half of his body was now on top of you. He gave you a couple of taunting kisses, pressing his lips slowly on yours, creating wet sounds as he backed up. “You know what will end up happening, right?” He whispered.

You giggled softly. “Uh, no. What will happen?” You asked, playing dumb.

He pressed his lips against yours briefly. “We’ll continue kissing,” he said in between kisses. “And then one of us will want more,” he muttered, then with a smile that you felt on your lips, he added, “and then I’ll end up making love to you.”

“Then shut up and kiss me more,” you muttered with a sweet tone, hands circling his neck, linking your fingers to pull him in.

Wonwoo kissed you again, deeper this time. And just like he said, you both kissed, each kiss making both of you desperate for more. Tangled beneath the bed covers, he climbed on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs. He made love to you, slowly, looking into your eyes when he wasn’t kissing you.

And afterwards, you slept soundly in his arms, wishing for the night to never end.

Wonwoo woke up alone in your bed.

He stretched out his arms before he opened his eyes, finding out that you had left the spot beside him some time ago, since the bed was already cold.

He opened his eyes, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. The room came into clearer view as he sat up, looking for you.

You were sitting on your couch, cuddled up to the corner with your knees pressed to your chest. You were sipping on your coffee cup quietly, but there was something wrong.

“Morning,” Wonwoo said, climbing off your bed and looking for his clothes.

You turned, watching him get dressed. “Good morning,” you replied, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “There’s coffee in the pot,” you said.

The weakness in your tone made Wonwoo direct his gaze at you. But you were difficult to read from where he stood. So he moved to the kitchen, grabbing the cup of coffee you had left beside the pot, filling it in silence.

As he approached you, he noticed the quiet detachment in your posture. “Something wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head, taking in a deep breath. “Mingyu just texted me.”

“Oh. I see,” he muttered, sitting down on the spot next to you. “What did he say?”

You lifted your head, holding his gaze. “He wants to talk,” you replied.

He noticed the tiredness in your eyes, but there was something else. You were nervous, chewing on your bottom lip, your gaze shifty as you lowered it back to your phone screen.

“Did you reply to him?” he asked, keeping his tone quiet.

You nodded. “We’re meeting tomorrow around noon,” you informed him, locking your phone and tossing it on the coffee table. You hugged yourself again as a form of calming yourself down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at you.

You gave him a non-answer shrug. But then you released a heavy sigh, your shoulders going slack. “I’m nervous,” you admitted.

Wonwoo turned to you, resting his elbow on the headrest of the couch. “That’s normal,” he told you softly. There was a pause, one that both of you used for reflecting. Wonwoo observed your posture, the features of your face.

It was a lot. Seeing him again after almost two months of zero contact.

“This whole thing is a mess,” you said.

“Yeah,” he conceded. “But it’s okay if it is. As long as we keep talking through it.”

You weren’t sure what you were going to do once you saw Mingyu. And heard what he had to say, now that you were aware that he’d wanted to ask you for a second chance.

But you knew one thing—you were afraid of choosing. If the conversation with him came down to that.

The park where you had agreed to meet with Mingyu was down a quiet street, next to an elementary school. 

As you sat down on a bench, you could hear children singing, sometimes laughing, and playing. You hadn’t chosen this location randomly. At this time of the day, the only people you saw were elderly couples or women walking in pairs, sharing stories and laughs. It bustled with activity from people engaging in outdoor exercise, running, and cycling.

It was alive, and you needed to have that as a view right now.

You arrived half an hour early, psyching yourself up to see him again. But as you waited, you started playing in your head every possible scenario of this conversation, each scenario bringing only anguish and a tight feeling deep in your guts.

One thing became clearer to you as you waited in silence.

You still loved Mingyu. That was something you never stopped doing. Maybe you resented him sometimes, but you missed him. You wondered what would’ve happened if he’d never left.

But you were also falling for Wonwoo. He was there to pick up the pieces. He saw you. And you also wondered what things would look like if they had happened differently.

And if you had to choose…

You shook those thoughts away, glancing at the clock displayed on your phone screen. You raised your head, looking around for the nth time. It was this time that you saw him.

The first thing you noticed was that his beautiful long hair was cut short now, giving him a younger look. But the man you loved was still in the way the sun caught his beautiful skin, in his puppy eyes when he found you. He blinked, the soft features of his face shifting slightly, appearing like he could breathe easily when he saw you were there.

Every cell in your body screamed at you to run and hug him tightly. You burned with every single day that you missed him.

You didn’t know how to act. While you were happy to see him, you were still guarded. But you decided to smile at him, even if your face felt tight with anxiety.

“Hi there,” Mingyu said as he stood before you, his velvety voice soft and reminding you of the way he would call you baby.

You blinked, feeling a familiar nostalgic ache seep beneath your skin. “Hi there,” you said, scooting an inch on the bench for him.

He understood, sitting down next to you with an eager look in his eyes.

You wanted to know what he was thinking. You wanted to know if he would bring up the fact that he’d seen you with Wonwoo.

But in reality, Mingyu had chosen not to say that to you. He felt like he had no right to ask you if you were dating someone else. He just needed to tell you how he felt.

And the moment he laid eyes on you, he solidified that choice. He loved you, and he felt so dumb for realizing that so late. And if you had moved on to someone new, he would have to accept it. Because he let you go.

You folded your hands on your lap. “You wanted to talk?” You asked with a slightly strangled tone.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate, nodding as he looked at the features of your face. He absorbed every detail, from the way you looked at him to the way you looked as you talked. God, if he could hold you again.

He wanted to tell you he’d been staring at your photo, sick with nostalgia to hear your voice. He wanted to tell you that he regretted his choice the very moment he walked away from the basketball court.

But finally, he said, “I’ve been thinking about everything. About us.”

You stayed quiet, holding your breath.

He kept going, his words slow and full of caution. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could let you go. But I’ve been lying to myself about that.”

His voice cracked mid-sentence, and you noticed the slight quiver in his tone. But he didn’t break eye contact, he kept his gaze on you.

You listened, a part of your heart swelling with so much relief to hear him say those words—the words you needed to hear him say months ago. But the other part of your heart knew that it was too late to do anything about it now.

Things have changed.

And Mingyu knew it too.

He lowered his gaze briefly, drawing in a breath as though filling himself with courage to take the biggest step he’d done in a while. He didn’t know how you’d take it, but he needed to do it, for the sake of his aching heart.

“Nothing has changed. I still think about you all the time,” he said, enunciating each word with a bitterness that had built up over the past couple of months.

You exhaled, the stinging in your eyes making you blink.

“I love you,” he whispered, but there was a sad note in his tone as the words landed too quietly.

He knew this was a game lost. He was too late.

But your gaze lifted, sad disbelief brimming in your eyes. “You do?” You whispered. Part of you always knew that he was falling at the same time you were for him. But then he walked away, and those dreams went with him.

“I thought I was protecting you from myself when I walked away.” He said, his voice breaking as he said the next words, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You wondered what the correct choice in this situation would be. But you waited, seeing in his face that he still needed to say more.

“I’m not saying this because I expect anything,” he continued. “I’m not asking for a second chance. Not like this. I just needed to tell you.”

You gaped, unable to do anything else as tears rolled down your face. “Mingyu…” You paused for air, even though you had only uttered his name. It was getting hard to breathe properly, but you had to push yourself to do it.

“I love you too,” you said with an air of resignation. “But that doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on yours. “I know,” he replied gently.

You blinked away from his face, catching the sunlight that filtered through the trees. “I think you were being honest when you broke things up,” you said, your tone thickening. “You were right, we weren’t ready.”

Mingyu tilted his head to one side, his gaze falling from your face briefly. “Do you think we’ll ever be?”

You swallowed back your tears. “I think we both need to heal,” you said. “I need to heal. You did the right thing for yourself when you walked away, but I… I changed, Mingyu.”

His eyes sparked with understanding. “Yeah,” he whispered, lowering his face. “I get that.”

You gave him a tired smile. “I’m sorry,” you said as guilt and remorse washed over you.

“Me too,” he said.

An air of finality hung between you. Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, and your heart squeezed when you thought of telling him that you’ve done something terribly wrong. Something that he probably won’t be able to forgive you for.

But you were a coward.

You rose from the bench, limbs trembling with the heavy weight of the things you were leaving unsaid.

Mingyu followed you, getting up with hesitation. “Can I ask you one thing?” he said.

You paused, your features shifting with fear and worry. But you nodded, deciding that if he asked about you and Wonwoo, you would admit to everything. You balled your hands into fists.

But he asked, “Can I hug you?”

Your heart shuddered with an unbearable pain, shaking you to your core. “Of course,” you said before you could think it over.

Mingyu wrapped you in a bear hug, bringing you close to his chest like he didn’t want to let you go. You sobbed the moment you picked up the smell of his clothes, his skin. That sweet smell of citrus mixed with coconut. You allowed yourself to snuggle your face onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

He rested his cheek on your head, rocking your body every so slightly in his arms. He heard your quiet sobs, felt them in his chest as you clung onto him like he was your lifeline. Because he was—for a moment in your life, he was your sun, he was the warmth during the night. And you… Well, you had changed Mingyu’s life, in a way. You were the first person he loved after getting his heart broken.

After some minutes of just holding each other, you both stepped away. You brushed your tears away with your hand, catching your breath slowly.

“See you around, shorty?” Mingyu whispered with an air of hope.

Your heart froze. But you nodded at him. “See you around, Mingyu.”

Mingyu watched as you turned around and walked away.

You walked out of the park in the direction of your apartment.

The thought you had been trying to keep at bay returned, now stronger after seeing Mingyu.

Maybe you didn’t have to choose one or the other.

Maybe this was the lesson you hadn’t learned. And it was now torturing you to the point that it left you with no choice.

Maybe what you needed was to choose yourself.

The wind brushed against your cheeks, drying your tears. You felt unbelievably tired and ached to get home. You pull out your phone, thumb pressing on the first contact in the recent calls list, and bringing the phone to your ear.

Wonwoo’s phone rang only once.

“Hello?” he responded.

“Hi,” you sighed heavily, but it didn’t soothe the pressure in your chest.

“How are you?” he asked, his tone soft but weary.

“Not great,” you admitted with a bitter laugh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked slowly. “I could head to yours after work.”

There was a hint of acknowledgement in his tone. As though he knew what you were planning to do already.

“Yeah, I want to talk.”

“I’ll be there.”

Mingyu felt like a different person.

The following morning, he woke up feeling heavy. It wasn’t the kind of heaviness he’d get from working out or from his shift at the bar. No, he felt guilty. With a big sigh, he forced himself to remember the painful conversation he had with you.

You were right. He needed to heal. He had to put the pieces of his heart back together if he wanted to come back for you in the future. When the time came, he would give you the love you deserved. The kind of love he knew he could give you.

But he’d had some closure. At least for now.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet for Mingyu’s liking. He got up from his bed, tossing the covers. He opened the blinds, letting the sunlight pour into his room to start his day.

It was Mingyu’s turn to get the groceries. So it didn’t make a lot of sense for Wonwoo to be out this early in the morning. Mingyu clicked his tongue as he went to the living room and the kitchen, finding every corner empty.

“Wonwooya,” he called softly, the sound of his voice bouncing on the walls.

Maybe Wonwoo was in his room with his headphones on. Which was plausible, but Mingyu quickly ruled that option out as he approached the door to Wonwoo’s room. It was slightly parted, a sign that he had left the room.

Had he slept out again?

Mingyu sighed, deciding to go on about his regular house chores. He gathered his dirty clothes, starting with the whites. He bundled up the bunch of clothes in his arms and loaded the washing machine. Then, something told him that Wonwoo would probably thank him if he also washed his white tees.

So he opened the door to Wonwoo’s room again, picking up the white t-shirts that were in the hamper and returned the washing machine, loading it and pressing the button on.

He remembered seeing a dirty mug on Wonwoo’s desk, the black coffee had started to leave a yellow stain around the inside of the mug. “Gross,” Mingyu whispered as he lifted the mug. But as he did this, his hand bumped against the mouse next to it.

The monitor flashed awake, the fans of his computer whirring back to life. Mingyu froze, mug in hand, unsure of what to do.

The screen showed Wonwoo’s desktop, and right in the corner closest to Mingyu’s line of sight, there was a photo viewing window. As though Wonwoo had hovered the mouse on top of it right before leaving the computer asleep. A row of different thumbnails sat along the bottom, but the image on display made Mingyu’s heart drop.

It was a photo of you.

Mingyu set the mug back where he’d found it, grabbing the mouse to press the left click. The window expanded, showing the photo Wonwoo was looking at before leaving.

You were framed in a pale autumn light, standing by the river. A smile painted the soft features of your face, although it looked like it was caught mid-breath. Mingyu could almost picture you, speaking with a soft smile on your face, the moment the photo was snapped.

It was a beautiful photo. You were beautiful.

But it wasn’t just one photo either, as Mingyu would come to find out. There were more, stacked in one folder that had a very cryptic name on it. Rainy day. His eyes scanned over the images. There were dozens of photos. Different places and days.

You walking beside the river, a bag full of books hanging on your shoulder. A series of photos snapped mid-motion in quick succession as you approached the lens, handing the bag to the person holding the camera.

You in a museum, standing beneath a skylight, light pouring down your face like some kind of vision. You looked near-angelical.  

And Mingyu just stared.

It was you, through Wonwoo’s lens. You through his eyes.

This wasn’t just admiration. This wasn’t just some modelling you were doing for Wonwoo’s photography course. This was Wonwoo seeing you. Capturing you with an intention that Mingyu was too familiar with.

Understanding dawned on Mingyu. Wonwoo had taken the photo that you were now displaying on your profile. The photo Mingyu had been looking at for days.

You’d been with Wonwoo that day when Mingyu saw you with another guy.

And Wonwoo hadn’t come home that night.

Mingyu’s heart sank to his stomach, backing away from the desk like it had suddenly burned him. His heart pounded as the truth came together like a puzzle, each piece hurting more and more. He turned, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

And then something inside him snapped.

He’d been blaming himself for losing you. He’d accepted the idea that you’d moved on. But not with Wonwoo.

And finally, finally, Mingyu got angry. 

☾ author's note: helloooooo

i... i guess i am hitting a burn out. i have been posting back to back for weeks straight. and part of it is because i hyper fixated on this fic a lot. i really love writing it, i really do. and i'm really excited that a lot of you enjoy reading it!! your comments and asks truly keep me going 🥹

i started a patreon very recently! this is meant for my exclusive series the sundering. it would mean the world to me if you guys check my patreon page out 🥺 i appreciate your support anyway, as always!! 🩵

okay, that's it from me for now. i'm gonna go play the witcher trilogy now, byeeeeee

i love you all!!

toodles!

☆ READ PART VIII! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | SUPPORT ME ♡

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

[unboundprompts]

How to write about someone’s appearance? Their physique, styles, face , clothes,?

How to Describe a Character's Appearance

-> dabblewriter.com

-> link to Character Description Prompts

Avoid Over-Describing

Overloading readers with too much information can be overwhelming and make your characters feel flat and one-dimensional. Focus on the details that are the most important to the story and the characters themselves.

If the character's appearance is not central to the story, then you may only need to give a basic description. If it plays a significant role, you may want to go into more detail. Always keep the purpose of your physical descriptions in mind.

Show Don't Tell

Don't blatantly state every little thing about your character's appearance, but rather show it through their actions and behaviors.

example: If they are tall, show that through their actions. They have to duck to get under a doorway, they help someone reach the top shelf, etc.

Include Personality Traits

A character's personality is what makes them memorable. Consider their motivations, values, beliefs, and quirks and give them a well-defined personality.

Avoid Stereotypes

Create characters that are more than just their cultural, racial, ethnic, or gender identity. Give them unique interests, hobbies, and personalities. Allow them to have flaws, contradictions, and diverse perspectives.

External Features

External features include a character's height, weight, body type, and general appearance. You can describe their skin color, hair color, eye color, and any distinctive features like freckles or scars. This type of description gives the reader a basic understanding of what the character looks like, which is helpful in creating a mental image.

Clothing

Describing the type of clothing they wear, including the colors, patterns, and how they fit, can reveal a lot about a character’s personality and social status.

For example, a character who wears tailored suits and expensive shoes might be a little snobby and concerned with their image, while a character who wears ripped jeans and t-shirts might be casual and relaxed.

Facial Features

Facial features can be used to give the reader a more in-depth understanding of a character's personality and emotions. You can describe their smile, the way they frown, their cheekbones, and their jawline. You can also describe their eyebrows, the shape of their nose, and the size and shape of their eyes, which can give the reader insight into their emotions.

Body Language

Body language can be used to give the reader an understanding of a character's emotions and personality without the need for dialogue. Describing the way a character stands, walks, or gestures can reveal a lot about their confidence level, mood, and attitude.

For example, a character who slouches and avoids eye contact is likely to be shy, while a character who stands up straight and makes direct eye contact is likely to be confident.

Words to Describe Various Features

Head and face

Oval: rounded, elongated, balanced, symmetrical

Round: full, plump, chubby, cherubic

Square: angular, defined, strong, masculine

Heart: pointy, triangular, wider at the temples, narrow at the chin

Diamond: angular, pointed, narrow at the forehead and jaw, wide at the cheekbones

Long: elongated, narrow, oval, rectangular

Triangular: angular, wide at the jaw, narrow at the forehead, inverted heart-shape

Oblong: elongated, rectangular, similar to oval but longer

Pear-shaped: narrow at the forehead, wide at the jaw and cheekbones, downward-pointing triangle

Rectangular: angular, defined, similar to oblong but more squared

Facial features

Cheeks: rosy, plump, gaunt, sunken, dimpled, flushed, pale, chubby, hollow

Chin: pointed, cleft, rounded, prominent, dimpled, double, weak, strong, square

Ear: large, small, delicate, flapped, pointed, rounded, lobeless, pierced

Eyes: deep-set, angled, bright, piercing, hooded, wide-set, close-set, beady, slanted, round, droopy, sleepy, sparkling

Forehead: high, broad, wrinkled, smooth, furrowed, low, narrow, receding

Jaw: strong, square, defined, angular, jutting, soft, weak, chiseled

Lips: full, thin, chapped, cracked, puckered, pursed, smiling, quivering, pouty

Mouth: wide, small, downturned, upturned, smiling, frowning, pouting, grimacing

Nose: hooked, straight, aquiline, button, long, short, broad, narrow, upturned, downturned, hooked, snub

Eyebrows: arched, bushy, thin, unkempt, groomed, straight, curved, knitted, furrowed, raised

Hair

Texture: curly, straight, wavy, frizzy, lank, greasy, voluminous, luxurious, tangled, silky, coarse, kinky

Length: long, short, shoulder-length, waist-length, neck-length, chin-length, buzzed, shaven

Style: styled, unkempt, messy, wild, sleek, smoothed, braided, ponytail, bun, dreadlocks

Color: blonde, brunette, red, black, gray, silver, salt-and-pepper, auburn, chestnut, golden, caramel

Volume: thick, thin, fine, full, limp, voluminous, sparse

Parting: center-parted, side-parted, combed, brushed, gelled, slicked back

Bangs: fringed, side-swept, blunt, wispy, thick, thin

Accessories: headband, scarf, barrettes, clips, pins, extensions, braids, ribbons, beads, feathers

Body

Build: slender, skinny, lean, athletic, toned, muscular, burly, stocky, rotund, plump, hefty, portly

Height: tall, short, petite, lanky, willowy, stocky, rotund

Posture: slouching, upright, hunched, stiff, relaxed, confident, nervous, slumped

Shape: hourglass, pear-shaped, apple-shaped, athletic, bulky, willowy, curvy

Muscles: defined, toned, prominent, ripped, flabby, soft

Fat distribution: chubby, plump, rounded, jiggly, wobbly, flabby, bloated, bloated

Body hair: hairy, smooth, shaven, beard, goatee, mustache, stubble

Weight: light, heavy, average, underweight, overweight, obese, lean, skinny

Body language: confident, nervous, aggressive, submissive, arrogant, timid, confident, relaxed

Body movements: graceful, clunky, fluid, awkward, jerky, smooth, agile, rigid

Build

Muscular: ripped, toned, defined, well-built, buff, brawny, burly, strapping

Athletic: fit, toned, agile, flexible, energetic, muscular, athletic, sporty

Thin: skinny, slender, slim, lanky, bony, gaunt, angular, wiry

Stocky: sturdy, broad-shouldered, compact, muscular, solid, robust, heavy-set

Overweight: plump, chubby, rotund, heavy, portly, corpulent, stout, fleshy

Fat: overweight, overweight, rotund, heavy, bloated, tubby, round, fat

Lean: lanky, slender, skinny, thin, wiry, willowy, spare, underweight

Larger: large, heavy, hefty, substantial, solid, overweight, portly, rotund

Skin

Texture: smooth, soft, silky, rough, bumpy, flaky, scaly, rough

Tone: fair, light, pale, dark, tan, olive, bronze, ruddy, rosy

Complexion: clear, radiant, glowing, dull, blotchy, sallow, ruddy, weathered

Wrinkles: deep, fine, lines, crow's feet, wrinkles, age spots

Marks: freckles, age spots, birthmarks, moles, scars, blemishes, discoloration

Tone: even, uneven, patchy, discolored, mottled, sunburned, windburned

Glow: luminous, radiant, healthy, dull, tired, lifeless

Tautness: taut, firm, loose, saggy, wrinkles, age spots, slack

Condition: healthy, glowing, radiant, dry, oily, acne-prone, sunburned, windburned

Style

Clothing: trendy, stylish, fashionable, outdated, classic, eclectic, casual, formal, conservative, bold, vibrant, plain, ornate

Fabric: silk, cotton, wool, leather, denim, lace, satin, velvet, suede, corduroy

Colors: bright, bold, pastel, neutral, vibrant, muted, monochrome

Accessories: jewelry, hats, glasses, belts, scarves, gloves, watches, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings

Shoes: sneakers, boots, sandals, heels, loafers, flats, pumps, oxfords, slippers

Grooming: well-groomed, unkempt, messy, clean-cut, scruffy, neat

Hair: styled, messy, curly, straight, braided, dreadlocks, afro, updo, ponytail

Makeup: natural, bold, minimal, heavy, smokey, colorful, neutral

Personal grooming: clean, fragrant, unkempt, well-groomed, grooming habits

Overall appearance: put-together, disheveled, polished, rough, messy, tidy

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[poorsallystitches]

A newbie's guide to The Lost Tomb franchise/Dao Mu Bi Ji/The Graverobber's Chronicles

I have seen people all over the internet asking questions on posts about DMBJ such as, where to start, what it is, and who are those cutie pies? You may have seen images similar to this

I, as someone who has watched a lot of the franchise and read at least half of the books (which if you knew how many there were, that would be impressive), I want to take a moment, or many, to explain to anyone who wants the answer to these questions. This will take a while, I cannot shut up, especially about them.

Spoiler free!

Now, first things first, what is Lost Tomb/DMBJ/Graverobber's Chronicles?

Lost Tomb is a Chinese Franchise comprised of a multitude of dramas and movies over the course of a decade that were all made by different people and actors to tell the story written in the novel series, The Graverobber's Chronicles, or its original Chinese title Dao Mu Bi Ji, written by Nan Pai San Shu.

This means that popular characters people will refer to will have many different faces. Such as all of these being Wu Xie

You may recognize any of those actors if you watch popular Cdramas, 1st Zhu Yilong who plays Shen Wei in Guardian, 2nd Zeng Shunxi who plays Xiao Bao in Mysterious Lotus Casebook, and 3rd Hou Minghao who was recently in Fangs of Fortune as Zhu Yan.

But, what is it about?

Lost Tomb as a franchise is loosely about a man named Wu Xie who is the last in a family line of graverobbers, but he himself has been kept out of the loop by the family. He has had his grandfather's journal since he passed away, which makes him take an interest in the family business. This leads him to force his uncle to let him tag along with him on tomb raiding adventures.

I feel it is important to tell people what they may encounter just in case they have sensitivities, so this franchise as a whole contains supernatural themes of ghosts, zombies, gods, etc. There will be blood, BUGS, and some body horror in a lighter portion, if you have any questions about specifics feel free to ask.

Now, let's skip to who those cutie pies are before telling you about the options for where to start.

The characters you may have seen around that got you interested may be

Wu Xie, the main character who is played a little differently in every iteration of the story but mainly think of a man with a high level of intelligence, but the worst luck in the world and some bitchy attitude (said with love) and you'll have him. You saw some of the most popular actors to play him up top.

Zhang Qiling/Xiao Ge (young master)/Menyouping (Poker-face), one of the main characters who is the strong, emo, silent, tatted sweety of the story. He is mysterious on purpose; you're not meant to know much about him at any given time. Him and Wu Xie are very close and with the next character, they form what is widely known in book, show, and fandom as the Iron Triangle. Just meaning the three are a package deal and won't be separated.

Wang Pangzi, the chubby, stylish, tough, bitchier than Wu Xie, lovable bastard. His name actually translates to Fatty, so that is what you will see everyone call him. It's not mean, just accurate. Pretty much everyone has real names and nicknames they go by. Remember, they are doing something illegal.

It's less likely, but you may have seen my personal favorite boys Hei Xiazi or Hei Yanjing (black glasses or black blind, you'll see why) and Xie Yuchen or Xiao Hua (little flower). They are the black/pink dynamic of the century for me. Hei Xiazi is a merc for hire and Xiao Hua is Wu Xie's cousin who has become the patriarch of his family at a young age.

Now, last question that people ask the most, where do I start?

There is no right or wrong answer, you can start chronologically with Mystic Nine, release order with Lost Tomb 2015, a mixture of both, leave out the ones you aren't interested in (*cough* Time Raiders movie), or just jump in in the middle. Each adaptation is aware of the fact that people will not have seen the others, and they will try to speed run the story to you, which can confuse people, but if you just want to experience the story with familiar faces, it won't be too bad.

To share my experience. I started with the Lost Tomb 2015, continued with Lost Tomb 2 2019, skipped Explore with the Note 2021 because I didn't vibe with it, Ultimate Note, started the prequels with Mystic Nine, which is a prequel with our character's ancestors, watched The Hei Xiazi and Xie Yuchen movie, started Reunion, watched a prequel movie and just started reading the books. I was never super confused because I had the set-up of the first 2 to build upon.

If you are a completionist like me and want to read the novels go to Merebear's blog. She is phenomenal and she has translated pretty much everything for your reading pleasure and laid it all out in an easy-to-follow way. I cannot give her enough gratitude. I absolutely adore her and all of her efforts as well as all her helpers along the way.

Now just a little gay propaganda about Lost Tomb franchise. The novels and shows are not canonically gay, but I mean... they are giving something.

[apollowhoo]

could you pleasee do a gravity falls one shot?

so basically Bill Cipher meets the youngest Pines member but they're like 3-4 years old. And basically Bill doesn't know how to react, he's all confused but also in awe. Make it fluff and i know it's going to be hard to write this as canon Bill Cipher so you can ignore if you want <33

Bill Cipher x Child!Reader (PLATONIC)

The forest surroundcing the Mystery Shack was quiet. Somewhere between dimensions, floating lazily, was Bill Cipher, his single eye half-lidded with boredom. His typical schemes to cause chaos were on hold, and for once, he was simply… existing.

That’s when he heard it—a soft giggle, light as a feather. Bill’s eye snapped open, immediately. There, standing among the wildflowers, was a small figure with messy hair, chubby cheeks, and a bright, curious gaze.

The youngest member of the Pines family.

His eye narrows slightly. A little kid, no older than three or four, was staring right up at him. Her tiny hands gripping a stuffed animal that seemed to be some kind of hybrid between a cat and a duck—perfectly nonsensical, just the way Bill liked things.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Bill floated closer, his voice carrying its usual sarcasm. “A little ankle-biter out all alone? Shouldn’t you be with your oh-so-boring family?”

The girl tilted her head, eyes wide and sparkling with the kind of innocence Bill found really weird. She didn't seemed scared. She suddenly reaches out, poking Bill with a tiny finger in pure curiosity.

Bill’s eye widened a little in surprise. Most people who encountered him would either scream, run, or try to strike some ridiculous bargain. But this little human? She just poked him like he was some new toy.

“Hey, hey! Hands off the merchandise!” Bill exclaimed. He wondered, why wasn’t she afraid? Why wasn’t she running? And why, in all his chaotic glory, did he find this child so… interesting?

The child giggled again, a bubbly sound that seemed to echo in Bill’s mind. She pointed at him with her free hand, her other continuing to clutching her stuffed toy close.

“Triangle!” she declared proudly, their voice high-pitched and filled with wonder.

Bill let out a bark of laughter, genuinely amused. “Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? That’s right, kiddo. I’m a triangle, the best triangle you’ll ever meet. Got any other shapes in that little brain of yours?”

The kid smiled. They started babbling, half-formed words about god know what, pointing excitedly as if expecting Bill to just understand them. The demon was used to others feeling fear, but this… this innocent curiosity was something else.

“Alright, kid, slow down,” Bill said. “You think I can just whip up stars and moons like a party trick? You’re talking to Bill Cipher, not some street magician.”

For the first time in… well, forever, Bill felt utterly out of his element. He could outsmart the smartest, scare the toughest, and twist anyone around his finger, but this kid? She just saw him entertainig.

Bill hovered beside them, his eye following them every move. He had cought a small, harmless ball of light, flickering in and out of existence.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while it lasts, kid,” Bill mumbled, though there was no more venom in his voice.

The girl just grinned, leaning her head against his triangular form as if he were just another friend, not a demon with a penchant for chaos. Bill let her, floating there quietly as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

For once, he wasn’t planning anything. No schemes, no deals, no manipulation. Just a strange, peaceful moment with a little human who saw him not as a threat .

And for reasons Bill couldn’t quite fathom, he didn’t mind it one bit.

[rubiehart]

thinking about how childhood!best friend trope for jj is just perfect for him

obviously he has this deep rooted belief from his dad that he’s unlovable and he’ll never be worth anything more than any other maybank before him, so whenever a girl would inevitably fall for his charming personality he might just per-sue it for one night, ending in pleasure for both parties but then pushing her away when he’d receive a text asking to meet up somewhere for a casual date after ushering her out of the chateau at early hours in the morning, making up excuses or just straight up ghosting the poor girl because he truly believes nobody could ever love him so he’d rather just not suffer the heartbreak of losing someone and just not even try.

this is how he ends up with his reputation of being a ‘heartbreaker’, girls not wanting to get involved with someone like him at risk of being heartbroken by his reckless behaviour, the only person that would truly understand him is his childhood best friend, having seen everything he’s been through his whole life.

always being the first to comfort him after an unpleasant altercation with his dad, always the first he goes to for advice about girls;, swinging head to toe in the hammock as the sun sets over the horizon sharing a j, legs tangled together, both of them focusing on ignoring the life long tension between you, but it was never awkward, nothing could ever be awkward with each others, you knew everything about one another so there really was nothing to hide.

he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were, despite knowing you pretty much his whole life, you’d really grown into your looks and he’d argue you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, but he’d never actually admit it, he wasn’t about to risk such an important friendship for something that wouldn’t be fail proof, love just wasn’t his thing and he wasn’t planning on changing his opinion any time soon, so he casts his gaze away from your lips, tuning back into whatever you were rambling about.

on particularly hot summer days in the banks, all the pogues gathered together like normal on the hms pogue, you sat on the bow, legs slung over jj’s lap, ray-bans he got from who knows where perched on his head, pushing back his blonde mop in a way that made his freckled nose stand out on the beaming sun, occasionally stealing sips of his beer, bringing the glass bottle to your lips and sucking, an innocent act but it meant much more to jj, especially with your tits pressed together deliciously by the triangles of your new red bikini, the thong so small that if he looked long enough he could make out the outline of your chubby cunt, the thought making his dick twitch in his swim trunks.

but it didn’t mean anything, right? that’s what he told himself that night when he had his right hand gripping his cock desperately, other hand gripping the sheets as he tried to conceal his groans, the mental image of your lips wrapped around the bottle and the way your tits pressed together perfectly in your bikini spurring his orgasm on. after he came he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thoughts of you consuming his mind. but it didn’t mean anything, none of this meant he was in love or even liked you in that way at all, you were his best friend and no matter what he was keeping it that way.

he told himself this continually, anytime he felt his heart pang when your touch would linger on him for a little longer than the other guys. it’s because you’re best friends. anytime it was him you’d go to for guy problems, spilling your sex stories to him when you had even a drop of alcohol in your system. it’s because you’re best friends. she just trusts you. he told himself this when his first instinct after any fight was to run to you and break down in your arms and let you clean his wounds because he felt safe with you, knowing you wouldn’t judge him for the way he felt, the only person in the world who understood him. it’s because you’re best friends, no other reason.

he told himself this until the answer to his feelings was staring him in the face, literally. your naked frame splayed out on the same bed he’d busted to the thought of you on multiple occasions. he realised it then, he loved you, but he had loved you long before that, long before the lingering touches, long before you grew into your beauty, long before the jealousy of other guys getting to touch what was now finally his, he’d always loved you, before he even really knew what love was.

[bbtsficrecs]

BTS FIC RECS PART 4 Part 4 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡ There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Navi ‣ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.1 | Part 5 |

​⊹ Hell Is Empty - drabble Love triangle AU | a | @aquagustd​ ‣ An important phone call between Yoongi & OC.

⊹ You’re The Best I’ve Ever Had  Boyfriend Jungkook, Chubby reader | a, f, s | @adoredcore​​ ‣ Jungkook’s touches were so soft. So soft you almost barely even felt them. Keyword: almost. His smooth fingertips ran along your silky skin, while the tip of his pink tongue ran across the nape of your neck.

⊹ Fool Me Once Fuckboy AU | a, s | @jeonqkooks​​​ ‣ You never expect anything from Jungkook, but somehow he always manages to let you down.

⊹ Attitude CEO Jungkook au | s | @lushtans​​​ ‣ Your relationship with your CEO is... Rather complicated. Aside your professional relationship, he fucks you whenever he feels like it and as much as you hate to admit the truth, you love it. 

⊹ Don't Worry, Be Happy Daddy Jungkook AU, | f | @jvngkook97 ‣ "You guys have been trying to conceive for a little over a year now, but have yet to be fully successful."

⊹ Trap Idol Jungkook AU, | f | @jiminpitys ‣ In which you show up at your boyfriend's concert soundcheck as a surprise, and to your own, he’s wearing an outfit that’s bound to make you feel a certain way.

⊹ Addicted College AU, | f , s | @sparklingchim ‣ Your boyfie Jungkook fucking you silly.

⊹ B i g o l e f r e a k Friends with benefits AU | f , s | @joonberriess ‣ You’re both exclusive only to each other. Jungkook fucks the way he acts—crazy, hard. too bad you’re only here for the ride..

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Paint me naked Artist Jungkook AU | f , s, a | @gimmethatagustd ‣ After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?  

⊹ Why are you so late? Idol Jungkook AU | f , s | @kimnjss

‣ With such a packed scheduled, you’d think Jungkook would be on top of his game. But when a morning rolling around the sheets with you is thrown into the mix, it’s expected for him to want to take his time.

⊹ Our beloved summer - Series (on-going) Producer Jungkook AU | f, s, a | @jeonqkooks ‣ You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

⊹ Heaven can wait Chubby reader AU | f, s ish | @adoredcore ‣ "What’s a chance I’ll take baby I’ll stay heaven can wait."

⊹ Midnight cravings Established relationship AU | f | @hobiholic ‣ You want to go to the convenience store late at night to fulfill your midnight cravings but a sleepy Jungkook stops you.

⊹ Wet dreams Somnophilia AU | s | @kookiecrumb ‣ “I want you to use me…whenever you need me,”

⊹ Look at you -  Risqué drabble Risqué couple AU | s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Mirror shopping with your boyfriend turns into something else entirely.

⊹ In the middle of the night Friends with benefits AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ It’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you

⊹ Like I'm famous Idol Jungkook AU | s, f | @softyoongiionly ‣ It’s New Years Eve and Jungkook would rather be anywhere else than at his company’s massive party. Sure, he’s a guest of honor and his team rented out the nicest hotel in Seoul, but ringing in the New Year with you on the other side of the world just feels wrong. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to celebrate without the woman he loves, but maybe- just maybe…he won’t have to…

⊹ Strangers to lovers Established relationship AU | s | @kissmetae ‣ You’re a regular at the gym and today you decided to workout late. You thought you were alone, but it turned out there was one other person at the gym and you so happened to be his gym crush…

⊹ My dear friends Friends to lovers AU | s, f, a | @kooktrash ‣ Just friends? Keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

⊹ Red - Part 03 Pregnancy AU | s, f, a | @taestefully-in-luv ‣ You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

⊹ As we were - Series (on-going) Cheating/Infidelity AU | s, a | @archivedkookie ‣ Your husband cheats on you and find comfort in someone else’s arms. He claims he’s happy—but is he really?

⊹ Imagine Model Jungkook AU | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching TV shows. You, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind. 

⊹ Practice - part 02, 03 Fuckboy Jungkook AU | s, a | @chryblossomjjk ‣ You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⊹ Lost Cause Cheating AU | a | @kooksbunnnn ‣ Jungkook comes back to you after his 10 day trip to Busan, and you sense something different about him. 

⊹ The Boy With Galaxies In His Eyes Idol AU | a, s, f | @oddinary4bts ‣ You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

⊹ Beyond Infinity - As We Were drabble As We Were Couple AU | a, s, f | @archivedkookie ‣ Jungkook does something you always dreamt about, and it ends up with the most beautiful night of your life.

⊹ What If I Love You Too Much Single Mom AU | a, s, f | @taleasnewastime ‣ Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

⊹ Services For A Queen Sub!JK AU | s | @taegonia ‣ Jungkook serves his queen in more ways than just as the royal head of security.

⊹ Cold Nights & Blurred Lines FWB & College AU | a, s, f | @awrkive ‣ Jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. But as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. Is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? It definitely is. Will you do something about it? Both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

⊹ Strictly Platonic Bestfriends to Lovers & College AU | a, s, f | @jeonqkooks ‣ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

⊹ In The Middle Of The Night FWB AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣  it’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you ⊹ Perfectionist Dancer AU | s | @miraclesatnightfall ‣ "He watched you, with each sensual step you made his eyes darkened with explicit desire" ⊹ Tangle Free Establish Relationship AU | f | @here4btsfics ‣ Bad days lead to you needing your boyfriend for comfort, specifically by playing with his hair.

⊹ As It Was - Apart of Boy With Love Series (on-going) College AU | a | @ggukiepie ‣ You bump into Jungkook days after you find out he has a girlfriend; things don't go so well

⊹ The Habits Of A Broken Heart Soulmate & Unrequited love AU | a, f | @softykooky ‣ Jungkook and you are soulmates. So says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. However, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak.  ⊹ Blackout - part 02, 03 Best friends to Lovers | s, a, f | @jjungxkook ‣ Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

⊹ Step Brother Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ Sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games.

⊹ Forbidden Romance Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ "It wasn’t unusual for your stepbrother to check up on you before bed. You’ve grown closer than you initially thought you would; it turned out that beneath the surface, you and Jungkook weren’t that different, after all."

⊹ My Perfect Patient Dentist Office AU | s, f | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Jaw pain is just as much of a pain in the mouth as it is in the ass, but don't worry, your favorite dentist is sure to fix you right up, using some special methods.

⊹ Confessions - part 02 Office AU | a | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Since we're about to die, I need you to know, I've always loved you, Jungkook.

⊹ Getting Railed Boyfriend Jungkook AU | s | @dearlytea ‣ Getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

⊹ Make You Mine College AU | a, s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ Catch 22 College AU | s, f | @alluremin ‣ You and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. Who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

⊹ Tolerate It - part 02 Failing marriage! au | a | @lmaosope ‣ Marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.

⊹ Make You Mine Jock Jk au | a , s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ His Throne - 01, 02, 03 Prince JK au | a, s, f | @jiminsa ‣ You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jeon Jungkook on his throne.

[0ketinha]

One more ask! I'm so sorry! What is your favourite aspect/feature of each of your designs- I've been recently practicing humans and I look up to you so much! : D

nah its okay!

hmmm favorite aspect? lets see-oh my will be alot

Red- His messy spikey hair, and that he is very short- and tooth gap. Orange- Also their hair, specially bc its kinda glowey in a way! Their "body suit" as well. Yellow- i like how i manage to draw her face and body, also her clothes, very simple but so nice. Green- everything lol, but his hair specially! Blue- her scars, idk is just, precious, and that she is chubby and strong. Purple- His hair and face freckles alot. Mango- tooth gap, his broken nose and his forehead mole. Alan- tall, and the whole god like thingy. Chosen- his face, idk is just fun to see w him. Dark- hair and her jacket somuch. Victim- i love his hair. Mitsi- her little teeth "fangs" and gap. Agent- his scar and the white glasses. Ballista- the shirt hair and the earpods, its just a fun detail. Primal- really love her hair. Hazard- tall, bald and her big glasses. butch. in a whole for the mercenaries, their uniform .

My extras Influ- its obvious, but his smile, "the stuck together teeths" and glasses, its just his eerie image. Defeated Influ - eyes! triangle fun eyes, and "the stuck together teeths" as well. ScreenPrayer - worm, and his wonky eyes.

[hannieween]

pick your poison | wicked games series

“You know—when you're still hurting from one person and find someone else to patch you up?” Changkyun said. “One poison drives out another.”

☾ pairings: jeon wonwoo x female reader ☾ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ☾ aus: bartender wonwoo, bartender mingyu, rebound fucking, "enemies" to fucking, messy love triangle ☾ word count: 17.3k

› PREVIOUS CHAPTERS – READ MORE

🎧: enemy – jiselle, gemini | not sorry – i.m | kiss&tell – ethan low | excuses – twlv | fuxxin' love (2019) – OoOo | ghosts – highvyn | guilty – taemin | his car isn't yours – wendy | love is banned – gemini | divine – hyejin | 28 reasons – seulgi

☾ warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption but no dubcon, hurt/comfort[?], spiraling, unprotected p in v sex, body worshipping, pussy eating, fingering, creampies, hickeys. reader is chubby. pet names: ma'am, baby (hers)

☾ author's note: i'm sorry.

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

pick your poison

The basketball court was empty. The night was still, as though hurt by the echo of the conversation you kept replaying in your head.

Puddles of water glistened on the pavement, reflecting fragments of the moonlight as it shone on the dark sky.

You sat there alone, motionless. Waiting.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for. Or maybe you did.

You looked down at your hands. They were wet. Wet in tears of a dream that was lost.

The sky shifted, and light poured into the basketball court. The sun rose too quickly, too bright. It brought with it the cruel reality to your broken heart. Like a thread pulled from your chest.

But then you woke up.

Your breath caught before you could open your eyes. You were lying on your bed, too exhausted to move. Your throat was dry, and every beat of your heart ached like it had a thorn right in the centre of it.

You were at home. But in your heart, you were still sitting on the bleachers. At the basketball court. 

Waiting for him.

Time passed in a blur after that night.

Days and nights went on, time slipping through your fingers like water. But despite that, you felt like your life had been perpetually put on pause. Your mind, body and soul were on standby, waiting for his call, even though you knew that he was set on his choice.

Being on standby also meant that you didn’t feel a thing.

You made a promise to yourself—the moment you left the court, you would never cry for Kim Mingyu again. And you would never cry for another man ever again.

What used to be your routine melted into a continuous, numbing train of activities. Work, home, eat, sleep. One after another. Suddenly, you found yourself moving without thinking. Acting without really being there.

You kept yourself busy, believing that work might save you from the aching hole in your chest threatening to pull you in.

There is an undeniable negativity around setbacks, around change. 

But in this situation, you didn’t know whether you had stumbled upon a setback or a change. Mingyu had never been your actual partner, in the sense that you never solidified a real relationship with him. The thing that was making you feel incomplete was that he walked away without ever knowing how you truly felt about him.

So there was one thing you could do. Bury it. 

You would bury your feelings and bury yourself if need be. It felt like rewriting bits and pieces of yourself that you were once willing to put into a relationship with him. Only to find out that you were idealizing a relationship that was never going to happen.

A part of you felt resentful. You felt used. Like he just came into your life, wrapped you in and then left you hanging. Alone.

But the other part felt grateful that he reappeared in your life and graced you with the ability to love again. Even though he left you with a heart full and brimming with love that you will never be able to give him.

The truth was, you didn’t feel any wiser. Forever stuck repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

Autumn had you yearning for snow. Anything that would make the puddles of water along the sidewalks freeze over.  

Everywhere you turned, you saw him. Even the faintest smell of coconut made your chest ache. Even the sound of rain reminded you of him.

You opened the door to a coffee shop, walking inside with an umbrella in one hand and grabbing the straps of your tote bag in the other.

You didn’t have to go to the other side of the city to get coffee. But lately, sitting in the small office you rented was suffocating. And being in your apartment made you think too much about the same thing.

And when you weren’t working, you avoided sitting in your own apartment. You couldn’t stand the silence of your space. Not then, and not now.

So you wandered. Searching for places you hadn’t ruined yet with memories.

The coffee shop was small, cozy, and humming with soft R&B music. The scent of fresh ground coffee and pastries hit you immediately. Warm, bitter, and sweet all at once. You stepped inside, suddenly feeling like you had crossed into a different reality. While outside was bleak and it looked like it threatened to rain again, inside was a wave of color. Splashes of pastels, warm colors, and warm yellow lights overhead.

For a moment, it almost felt like you could breathe again. Like the gaping hole inside you was replaced by a different thing.

But this feeling was fleeting.

There were only a handful of people inside the coffee shop. But one of them turned slightly toward you, the movement drawing your gaze to him.

Jeon Wonwoo might’ve sensed you, because he turned over his shoulder, spotting you instantly. He stood near the menu, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose.

He moved awkwardly, bowing his head politely when he caught your gaze.  

His lips moved, but you couldn’t make out his words.

This was the closest you’d come to anything connected to Kim Mingyu since the night he broke up with you.

Wonwoo flicked his gaze over your face—a hint of confusion, of something almost unreadable.

“Excuse me,” you cleared your throat, stepping closer to the counter.

“I said, do you want to order first?” he asked using a polite tone, but there was a usual dryness to it. “I am still deciding for myself.”

“I uh,” you fumbled, feeling the nerves prickling down your spine. “I-I’ll have an iced americano, please. And a cookie. Please.”

You sent a glance at Wonwoo, trying to come off as unbothered as you could. But there was no way you could mask the trembling of your fingers when you extended your hand to pay.

Wonwoo stood behind you, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his dark hoodie. “I’ll have a strawberry yogurt smoothie, please,” he said, pulling out his wallet and taking out a card with his nimble fingers.

You held your reaction. It was obfuscating to you that he would order such a fun and non-plain beverage like that.

But you both stood at the end of the bar, waiting for your beverages. None of you made eye contact again. But you could feel his furtive glances every ten seconds, when he thought you were too distracted looking at your phone.

But you were just staring at your phone, pretending to move your thumb down the screen.

Deep inside, you wanted to run. You wanted to crawl into the nearest, safest place you could find. You wanted to conjure up a way to disappear into thin air. But at the same time, you wanted to stay. To admire the closest thing that reminded you of him. Of Mingyu.

Your heart thumped in your ears. You wanted to hold onto the space where Wonwoo stood. Even as your order came down the bar and you picked it up.

But without meeting his gaze again, you grabbed your cup and turned around, heading to the door.

Wonwoo was there, pushing the door open before you could do it yourself. In one hand, he held his pink smoothie cup, and in the other, he held the door open for you. “Thank you,” you mumbled politely, exiting the coffee shop and joining the slow influx of people walking down the street.

“Don’t mention it,” Wonwoo replied. He looked like he didn’t expect to see you today. And in such a random part of the city.

After a beat, you realized that Wonwoo had fallen into step with you, forced to walk close to you due to the heavily transited sidewalk. 

“Are you heading down to the station?” Wonwoo asked curiously, motioning down at the stairs that led to the underground subway.

“Yeah. You too?” you replied. Your tone sounded suffocated. Like you were struggling to breathe properly.

“Yeah,” he said casually. He raised his gaze, surveying his surroundings like he was looking for a quick exit to leave you on your own.

But you tried to ignore it. A part of you was glad to have someone so familiar, but at the same time, so different from Mingyu. You never felt like Wonwoo liked you, so it was weirdly comforting that you had stumbled upon him. It was having someone so close to Mingyu, but different enough not to expect any questions coming from him.

The stairs were slick, wet with rain as you made your way into the station.

At the platform, the silence stretched. Wonwoo shifted his weight awkwardly, adjusting the strap of the bag slung across his body.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said after a minute, smiling shyly. “I promise I’m not following you or whatever.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down at his feet.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the company,” you admitted with a little bit of struggle.

Wonwoo raised his eyes to you, studying you for a moment. “Okay,” he said, appearing to ground himself next to you. And for a moment, you thought that if you hadn’t said that, he would’ve stepped away.

The train arrived, and you both watched it as it slowly came to a stop. The doors hissed open, and you both went in after waiting patiently for it to clear out.

But it was still very packed with people, forcing you to remain on your feet and close to him. You hooked an arm around the pole, still holding on for dear life to the straps of your tote bag and sipping carefully from your iced coffee.

“Do you—okay,” Wonwoo blurted, opting to stay at your side. He raised an arm over his head to grab onto one of the handles.

The wagon hissed and beeped as the time to get in or exit ran out. The doors closed, and you were gently swayed in motion with the car. Your body was gently moved forward, awkwardly bumping into Wonwoo.

“Sorry,” you whispered nervously, trying not to disrupt the peace and quiet from inside the wagon.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, avoiding your eyes.

You tried to keep at least half an arm’s distance. Every time the train came to a stop, you tried to ground yourself as best as you could, clenching all of your muscles to the point it exhausted you.

And for a moment, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was in fact more normal than you had expected it to be.

“Where do you get off?” you asked after he didn’t exit for three stops. It was then that you started to feel that your plans were about to change. And collide with his. 

“In the next one.”

You nodded slowly, trying to hide your doomed smile.

“You?” he asked, pausing and then, “You too?”

“Yep,” you replied.

Wonwoo let out an amused breath through his nose. “Museum?”

You blinked. “Yes,” you chuckled awkwardly. But then, you looked at Wonwoo, like really looked at him. He was sporting a camera bag across his shoulder.  “Don’t tell me—”

“Sculpture showing?” he raised his eyebrows, huffing a tiny laugh when you nodded.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes.

The museum was half empty. A quiet, bustling series of sounds followed you inside as you moved towards the wide lobby. It was still beginning to rain again as you went inside, making you hope that it’d stop by the time you came out. 

You and Wonwoo moved without talking. As you went into the showing, you realized that it was organized so that you looked at each sculpture in a particular order, starting from the right side of the long room.

The showing was called A Human Connection. 

Wonwoo lingered a few steps away from you, his hands gripping his very expensive-looking camera, his head tilted like he was studying every bit of the sculptures, and looking for the perfect angle for a photo.

You wandered through the first few sculptures, pausing every so often to glance at him out of the corner of your eye. You realized he never strayed too far from you. But he didn’t speak, he didn’t voice the curiosity that showed behind his eyes every time his gaze flitted towards you.

The sculptures were beautiful, in a broken way. Bodies twisted in longing, hands that stretched to ghostly partners. Some figures leaned toward each other, sharing frozen and untouched kisses. A male figure knelt in front of a female figure, his arms clinging to her thighs, and he appeared to be hunched over her. Begging. 

You continued walking, trying not to think too much, otherwise it would begin to show on the features of your face. You were beginning to feel deeply affected. 

And then—you were forced to stop in front of one that caught your breath.

It was two human figures carved into smooth white stone, sitting back-to-back. The male figure had a hand stretching back, looking for the female figure who was leaving. In the stone where they both sat was a fracture, separating them definitively.

The woman was leaving. The man was trying to stop her. But beneath them, there was something broken.

You stared at it, feeling like life was playing a sick joke on you. Laughing at your pain.

Wonwoo joined you, standing beside you in utter silence.

You felt his eyes on you, but you pretended to be too enthralled by the sculpture to notice. For a while, neither of you spoke. And you tried your best to push all of your thoughts away.

“Do you think we’re all like that?” Wonwoo asked, his voice so quiet that you barely caught it.

You turned your head slowly. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “People who want to reach out. But only do it when it’s too late.”

You blinked at him, thrown off by the rare glimpse of vulnerability. “M-maybe.”

Wonwoo shifted, fixing his glasses awkwardly. He looked almost embarrassed, as though he, too, had been enthralled by the sculpture, and he didn’t realize who he was talking to. He appeared to be ready to move on to the next sculpture, but you opened your mouth, bringing him to a halt.

“I think that there are some people who still try,” you said. “People who reach out before it’s too late.”

Wonwoo looked at you. And you felt little under his scrutiny. You thought for a moment that he was going to take this as an opportunity to talk about what happened with Mingyu. To say something.

But he just stayed beside you. He had lowered his camera, deciding to absorb the beauty displayed in front of you. The warm light pouring from the skylight overhead created a shadow over the male figure, while the female figure glistened beautifully.

You slowly peeled off from the sculpture and moved onto the next. Wonwoo followed you silently, and you realized that his company was not at all what you had half-expected it to be. It was welcoming, something different and new. Like a silent truce that none of you were ready to acknowledge.

Wonwoo tipped his head toward the exit. “Are you heading back?” he asked when you had toured all the showing from start to finish.

You nodded quietly.

Outside, the sky had darkened. It had stopped raining, but it was considerably colder than before. The sidewalk was wet, and it glimmered under the streetlights, the pavement hissing loudly under the movement of the cars passing through.

You wrapped your arms around you, hugging your sweater tighter. You sucked in a breath, just as your teeth clattered quite dramatically, and loudly.

“Are you cold?” he asked, laughing lightly.

A small but meek smile tugged at your lips. “No, I’m not,” you lied through your teeth, laughing when the answer was obvious.

Wonwoo shrugged his leather jacket off, offering it to you without saying a word.

“I can’t” you said, blinking at him, alarmed.

“Take it,” he said simply. Like it was nothing to him and not something pregnant with meaning. He rolled his eyes, clearly getting why you were hesitant. “You’re shivering, come on.”

You hesitated, but took it anyway.

The fabric was warm, carrying the faintest trace of the laundry detergent that threatened to remind you of someone else. But as you let the jacket sit on your shoulders, another scent brushed against your senses. It was sweet, peachy, and warm. Oddly comforting.

You pulled it over your wrists, hiding your hands inside the sleeves.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything about it, but he looked at your sweater paws, now accompanied by his leather jacket. And the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

For a few blocks, you walked side by side, trading furtive glances when you thought that he might go away, or when you thought he wasn’t looking. He walked slowly, carefully taking each step to keep up with your slow pace. It was a quiet walk. Easy.

When you reached the station, he gave you one inquisitive look.

You knew he was dying to ask—because deep inside, you wanted to ask too. You wanted to know how Mingyu was faring, you wanted to know if he had been working on healing in all these weeks of no contact. A part of you wanted to know if he had tried to look for you.

But you couldn’t do it.

When you reached the station, you hesitated at first, but then you asked, “Are you heading home too?”

He nodded quietly.

“Same line?” you asked, though it was obvious. You knew where he lived and that he would have to use the same line to get there.

“Yeah.”

You both stepped inside the car, the floor wet with the dampness of all of the wet coats and umbrellas.

You quickly found a corner spot, standing close enough to Wonwoo that you could get that peachy scent coming from him too.

You both fell silent again. And it was okay.

As you both made your way out of the station, you realized that it had started raining again. You reached for your umbrella, preparing it as you climbed the stairs to the street.

Wonwoo paused, huffing a light laugh when he realized that it was raining harder than it was before.

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “We can share,” you said, raising the umbrella above your head.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

You found yourself rolling your eyes at him. “You gave me your jacket,” you shrugged. “Fair is fair?”

Wonwoo didn’t understand why the smile was wiped off your face. But your heart had stuttered after you uttered those last words, which echoed to some distant memory. To somewhere you didn’t want to go yet.

For half a second, he remained motionless. But then he stepped closer to you, standing under the umbrella. As you started walking, your shoulders brushed—and you were thankful to have accepted his jacket and couldn’t feel his skin properly.

You both moved down the street slowly. Rain pattered around you, creating a bubble of sound that felt almost too private, enclosing you both.

Wonwoo cleared his throat beside you, adjusting the strap of his camera bag so it wouldn’t bump against you. “Allow me,” he whispered, taking the umbrella from your hand and adjusting it to his height.

“Oh, sorry,” you laughed lightly, realizing that you were making him hunch to fit your size.

“It’s okay,” he replied, glancing your way. He was smiling too, and it was then that you realized that his glasses were starting to fog.

When you reached the next corner, Wonwoo hesitated. “Which way do you take?” he asked.

You realized that while you knew where he lived, he didn’t know where you lived.

“That way,” you pointed. Your shoes were getting soaked. The corners of the umbrella were dripping water all around you. Your shoulder was wet somehow.

“Maybe I could order a ride for you,” he offered, fumbling for his phone.

“No, my place is right down the street,” you said, bringing a hand to stop him, your fingers gently grazing his wrist.

You dropped your hand, as though his skin had burned you.

Wonwoo raised his gaze at you.

“Take it,” you motioned to the umbrella with one hand. “You’ll need it more than I.”

Wonwoo looked at your hand, then at you. Something flickered across his face, but you were too slow to read it.

“Then take my jacket,” he said.

You gaped at him. “Oh, no—”

“Fair is fair,” he cut in.

You couldn’t hide the way his words impacted you. It was as though your chest had turned into ice, making it impossible for you to breathe. You couldn’t stop it now. You thought of him. Of Mingyu, of the rains that had brought him to your life. The first kiss you shared. And your heart broke again.

You blinked repeatedly, expertly hiding your tears. “At least let me know how I could give it back to you,” you stuttered, raising your gaze to him.

Jeon Wonwoo was smart. He must’ve known what you meant. But his eyes read your expression, taking in your words. Returning his jacket was simple—you knew where he worked, where he lived.

“W-without having t-to see him.” You explained, and even though you didn’t utter his name, your heart churned.

Wonwoo took out his phone, handing it to you without a word. “Give me your phone number,” he said at once.

You sent him another alarmed expression. But he was not discussing it.

“Come on. Before we’re both soaked over,” he urged, almost as though it bothered him to know where your uncertainty was coming from.

Your heart twisted. But you took his phone, typing your number and swiftly calling your phone so you could register his number.

You handed his phone back, exchanging one lingering look that meant something. His eyes read your face, probably finding the vulnerable girl in your glinting eyes.

“Take care of yourself,” he muttered dryly, turning away once you nodded at him, too stunned to say something back.

You ran across the street, stopping under the awning before the entrance to your building. Looking over your shoulder, Wonwoo was walking down the street, your umbrella firmly in his grasp as he disappeared into the next corner of the street.

As soon as you came to your apartment, you peeled his jacket off. You saw Wonwoo’s face as the strong smell of peach and pachouli brushed against your senses.

The emptiness inside you started to ache at its edges.

Your apartment was dark, and dead silent. You closed the window to stop the rain from splashing inside and moved to the kitchen.

You had some leftovers from the night before. Curled up on one corner of the couch, watching something you have watched a thousand times already. There was a pause in the movie, and everything stilled in your apartment.

Maybe I should get a cat, you thought impulsively.

Your phone buzzed beside you, making your heart stop for a split-second.

It was past midnight. Nobody really texted you at this hour anymore.

You reached for it, expecting a dumb notification from some random app.

But it was Wonwoo.

“thanks for the umbrella.

you saved my camera. and me.”

You stared at the two text messages for a long second. A part of you wanted to acknowledge the strange, warm feeling you got from getting a text from someone. Even if it was Jeon Wonwoo.

You pulled your knees to your chest, gnawing on your lower lip as you pressed your thumbs on the screen. “You’re welcome. I’m glad.”

Almost immediately, the three little dots appeared. “did you get home alright?”

You didn’t take his text message as an invasion. But almost as a way for him to still be polite. A gentleman.

But you were still caught a little off-guard. It had been a while since you interacted with someone, so for him to be so… thoughtful made you take a pause.

You rested your chin on your knees. “Yeah, I did. Thank you.”

Wonwoo didn’t reply right away.

You stared at the screen for a while, half-expecting the conversation to die there.

But then another reply came, “have a good night.”

Something squeezed painfully in your chest. It was nothing. It’s nothing, you thought over and over. He’s being polite, nothing more.

A part of you felt ridiculed. Someone was being nice to you and your heart was already suffering, hurting as though you were running a marathon. Running away from something, more like.

“Thanks. You too,” you replied, acknowledging the way your heart faltered in stress with a big sigh.

It was nothing, yet you put your phone away as though it had suddenly burned your hands. The emptiness inside you warmed over such simple words. But just like that, the cocoon that you had wrapped to protect yourself was fractured.

Resurfacing meant that you had to give explanations to the people closest to you.

You pushed the door open to Casa Pump House, relieved to find it emptier than usual. Wednesday evenings were quieter. You’d been strictly coming to the gym around seven—avoiding Sundays at all costs. And so far, you’d successfully avoided Mingyu.

What you couldn’t avoid though, was Jungkook’s expert capacity for gossip. He’d known something was wrong after Mingyu broke up with you—your two-week disappearance and radio silence were louder than any verbal confirmation.

You only started coming to the gym sporadically, and you rarely caught Jungkook on shift. But the times you did, you avoided talking about it, about him. And Jungkook took the hint.

However, he could only keep it to himself for so long.

“Aaay,” Jungkook jogged over with a wide smile, softening the features of his face. “If it isn’t my favorite girl.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Is that what you tell every girl in here?”

He shrugged. “Just the ones that are evil to me,” he said with a light chuckle. But the grin slowly vanished, as his doe eyes studied you from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

Your heart faltered at the sound of his voice softening. He must’ve noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “I think you already know,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Jungkook pursed his lips slightly, giving you a short nod. “Yeah. He uh… he told me last night when I stopped by the bar,” he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. He chewed on the side of his lip that wasn’t adorned with piercings. “How are you handling it?”

You licked your lips and balled a hand into a fist, trying to hold yourself true to your promise. “I’m doing okay,” you said. But your voice came out thinner than you had wanted. You sounded brittle, and unsure. “As best as I can be.”

The features of his face shifted, and he took a tiny step towards you, having to tilt his head forward to look into your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, even though you were the only ones in the gym at that moment, and no one would listen to you.

You shook your head, tightening your lips into a straight line.

“That’s okay,” he said, his tone still gentle and quiet. “If you ever need to talk about it—about anything at all—you know you can call me, right?”

You raised your gaze to his big eyes. You never expected someone so lively and fun to bring you such calm to your heart. You nodded. “Thank you, JK,” you whispered, unable to bring your voice any higher. “I appreciate it.”

He nodded. “Don’t mention it,” he said. And then, stepping back, he brought his hands together in a thunderous clap. “Alright, let’s put you to work. Let’s go!” he roared vigorously.

You smiled despite yourself, wishing you could just flip a switch like that.

But for the first time in weeks, you felt better.

The Spot was quiet, as expected from a rainy Tuesday afternoon. But being it being a slow day didn’t mean that the regular tasks stopped there.

Seungcheol had taken the day off with his girlfriend. So that meant that it was just Mingyu and Wonwoo handling the bar. But that was fine, since the only customers there were the three Tuesday usuals.

Mingyu had been trying not to fixate on his phone, but he had been struggling to keep himself present and found that looking at mindless things on his phone allowed him to escape his reality.

Lately, life had been suffocating. Work was alright, nothing Mingyu couldn’t deal with. No, the suffocating feeling came from not being able to stop wishing he had something that occupied his time, his energy and his mind completely.

Because every time that silence stretched and he found himself alone, he would see you in the eye of his mind. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he did the right thing, he still felt that he had made a terrible mistake.

His fingers itched—he wanted to call you, to open your chat and tell you to meet up. He wanted to tell you that he missed you every single day and night. When it got dark and quiet, he ached to call you. Even if it was the middle of the night, just to hear your voice. To hear your tiny, and sweet giggles.

He blinked slowly, breathing in deeply to try and get rid of the pain in his chest. It was as though the feelings that were beginning to bloom for you had withered and had grown thorns around them, twisting around his heart.  

He was at that point in his heartbreak where memories were beginning to hurt, but he couldn’t keep himself away from them. Sometimes he wished he had taken photos of you so he could have your pretty face to look at when he missed you too much. But he resorted to just looking at your profile photo.

It was a photo that your best friend, Mona, had taken one night out. You were smiling at the camera, lifting your chin in a prim manner. Behind you was a colorful mural, painting two great wings behind you, spreading and merging with an array of wildflowers.

You were squeezing your eyes shut in the photo. And he could almost picture the moment—your friend convincing you to take the photo, and you standing there until something got a smile out of you.

His heart twisted painfully when the word Online appeared below your name. He exited the chat quickly, feeling ridiculous for a moment. He pocketed his phone, lifting his gaze to make sure that no one had seen him act so impulsively.

But as he resumed with his task behind the bar, he was consumed now with memories of you. A call wouldn’t hurt, a sneaky thought flashed across his mind. She would understand, she always does.

No, Mingyu told himself sternly. He has done enough damage to you. He came into your life just to make a mess of it. You were better off without him.

He was a mess. And he had to make himself better before he could seek you out again.

Because that was his plan, at least. Get better, heal his heart, and look for you when he were ready.   

Maybe that’s why he felt so out of place. Because, in his heart, he wanted you. He wanted more with you, but just didn’t feel like he was ready to fully love you yet. He knew what he was capable of when his heart was in it. When he wasn’t backing away at the first sign of commitment.

He knew that you deserved better. And he could give you better.

But it wasn’t the right time.

Still, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t think of you. Even though memories hurt, he was addicted to them. Like blissfully drowning in a violent river.

He thought of you, of your voice, of the smell of your hair. He liked to live in the memories where you looked at him lovingly. Those memories when he was inside your body, kissing you like you were his lifeline, because maybe you were.

In his mind, he hugged your body again, losing himself in you. Kissing you, telling you things he never got to in real life.

Something was beginning to rouse inside him when a hand came to his shoulder, patting him in a familiar, gentle way.

Mingyu turned around. Wonwoo was just coming back from his break, nodding to the kitchen door. “You have one hour,” he said promptly.

“What’s on the menu today?” Mingyu asked, not caring that he wasn’t even pretending enough to make his voice sound livelier.

“Sandwiches and fries,” Wonwoo replied, looking curiously at Mingyu, but didn’t ask any questions.

Wonwoo was a very patient friend. He would never intrude when he felt things were still stormy—so he hadn’t dared to pry since the night Mingyu broke up with you.

But Wonwoo was there to see the mess. Mingyu had come home that night and didn’t say a word. He locked himself in his room, and for two whole days, Wonwoo didn’t see or speak to him.

Ever since that night, Mingyu had seemed… hollow. Soulless. Like something in him was missing, and with each passing day, it only got worse—not better.

And ever since Wonwoo saw you at the museum, he’d wanted to ask Mingyu what really happened. But it still felt too soon.

“I’ll be back, then,” Mingyu said, patting Wonwoo’s back as he walked past.

Wonwoo nodded, his eyes following Mingyu until he disappeared through the kitchen door. He exhaled heavily, shaking his head before returning to the task he’d left off. He was in the middle of organizing the inventory, a routine so familiar, he could practically do it with his eyes closed.

The front door creaked open. Wonwoo would’ve normally glanced up to greet whoever entered, but he was too focused on counting boxes of beer.

“What are you serving tonight, sir?” a familiar voice called out.

Wonwoo smiled. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure settling on the stool at the bar.

“Same as ever,” he said, raising his gaze to meet one of his oldest friends. Changkyun.

Wonwoo set his notebook aside and turned to the fridge, grabbing a beer. He placed the bottle on the counter just as Changkyun reached for the opener.

“It’s been a while,” Changkyun said with a tired groan.

“Well, since you started living your healthy life, I see you less,” Wonwoo quipped with a small smile.

“Healthy life?” Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “Getting up at five in the morning to host a radio show is not my definition of healthy.”

“Still, you get more sleep than I do,” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Shut up. You probably make more money in a week with those stupid girls’ nights you’re always advertising,” Changkyun said, narrowing his eyes and pointing at Wonwoo with the neck of the beer.

“That wasn’t my idea—it was Mingyu’s,” Wonwoo replied, raising both palms in mock innocence.

Right then, Mingyu came out of the kitchen. He didn’t acknowledge either of them. He walked straight past the bar and exited through the back door, a storm cloud in human form.

“What’s up with him?” Changkyun motioned toward the door Mingyu had just walked through.

Wonwoo kept his eyes on the door for a moment, ensuring it was shut, then turned back to Changkyun. “Same thing as last time.”

Changkyun raised his eyebrows. “Damn. That breakup hit him harder than I thought.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brow. “He and Gigi broke up months ago,” he said. “This is someone else.”

“Really?” Changkyun tilted his head. “Huh. One messy breakup can lead to an even messier one.”

Wonwoo remained quiet. His own experience with heartbreak was... limited, at best. If he could call it that. He had only ever had healthy, uneventful relationships. Nothing explosive. Nothing shattering. He even stayed friends with all of his exes.

“Please elaborate,” he muttered, resting his hands on the lacquered countertop.

Changkyun shrugged. “You know—when you're still hurting from one person and find someone else to patch you up?” he said. “One poison drives out another.”

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away.

But part of his mind replayed the memory of you—standing beneath the skylight at the museum. The distant look in your eyes. Like something wild and wounded, cautiously stepping into the world again.

He also remembered the night at the bar. When he’d warned you to be careful with Mingyu. Because at the time, he truly believed it was you who might hurt him. Now he realized you’d defended Mingyu so vehemently—only to be the one left behind. It wasn’t you who had been reckless. You weren’t the loose cannon. It was Mingyu.

“I don’t really like what you’re insinuating,” Wonwoo said, rolling his eyes. But deep down, he couldn’t deny that Changkyun might be right.

“Relax, I’m not saying he used her intentionally,” Changkyun replied, glancing at the back door. “But he could still care about her... and use her at the same time.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t make it easier. I’d hate myself too, if I were in his shoes.”

Wonwoo weighed this new idea in silence. He knew Mingyu—knew how deeply he could love. But ever since that breakup with Gigi, something in him had changed. He was more guarded, more distant. A little broken.

Still, to seek you out as comfort… only to discard you when things got too real? That was something Wonwoo never imagined his best friend capable of.

And now, he wondered. Had Mingyu ever really seen you for who you were? Or was he only ever looking for someone to fill the void?

Did he look for his ex in your eyes?

Wonwoo grabbed his phone, quickly finding your name in the list of chats he had ongoing. “there’s a bookstore right across the street from the museum” he wrote to you, his fingers quickly sending out the next words: “we could meet there if you’re free next monday”

You stared at the screen, your heart thudding nervously.

“Hello?” you typed back. “Not even a hi, good evening?”

The three little dots appeared on his end quickly. “hi” he replied.

“How very eloquent,” you mumbled to yourself, your thumbs hovering over the keypad, but you stopped yourself before you could think of what else to say.

“or maybe we could meet somewhere closer to yours, however you prefer” read his texts after some seconds went by.

Your breathing was uneasy. This wasn’t a date. Or something where you had to make yourself look pretty and presentable, you told yourself.

It was simple.

“I love bookstores” you wrote, and then: “And I’m free this Monday”

His reply came shortly after that. “good. see you then”

And that was it.

So Monday rolled around quicker than you probably would have wished for. The morning was wrapped in a chilly layer of mist from the rains overnight. The clouds hung low, dark, and almost threatening to rain again.

You wore a raincoat and packed an extra umbrella, just in case. Since the day was already cold, you made sure to dress appropriately, but as you made your way to the station, beads of sweat had started to gather on your forehead.

Inside the car, you could feel the warmth coming from the heaters below, making you wish you had worn lighter clothes. But with this treacherous weather, it was better to be safe than sorry.

You adjusted the strap of your bag nervously as you walked down the street. You were familiar with the bookstore where Wonwoo wanted to meet with you, but you had never gone inside. You were curious to know why he wanted to meet there—was it because it was so close to the museum?

You hesitated for a second before pushing the door open. You were immediately hit with a sense of wonder, and the questions in your head also piled up and doubled the size once you went inside.

The store wasn’t a typical one. It was just one floor, with rows of sandy brown bookshelves lined up and organized in a way that almost made it look like a maze. In the middle, there was a circular coffee bar. Low indie music played in the background, occasionally interrupted by the loud hiss of the coffee machines.

Wonwoo sat on one of the stools, his fingers wrapped around a small white coffee cup. He took a sip, then lowered the cup slowly. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose, and he pushed them up, raising his gaze.

He spotted you immediately, but his expression gave no indication of whether he was pleased to see you.

This was slightly perplexing as you approached the bar. Something stirred inside you at the scent of coffee—and the strong smell of peaches and pachouli.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Wonwoo said quietly, turning to glance at the light book he’d been reading. He closed it, resting his palm on top.

You flashed him an alarmed look, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Why, am I late?” you asked, checking your watch.

“No, just—” Wonwoo shook his head lightly. He motioned to the blackboard menu in front of you. “Coffee?”

You gaped at him a little. “Yeah,” you sighed, discontent creeping into your voice. “You’re really confusing to me.”

Wonwoo arched an eyebrow, watching as you ordered. Once the barista took your request, he cleared his throat. “Why confusing?” he asked, lifting his cup again. You noticed he was drinking a double espresso.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, lowering the straps of your bag and placing it on your lap.

You looked up at the ceiling. The soft, orange glow from the lights above made the space feel warmer—almost like an eternal sunset. The room was also adorned with hanging plants that reached into every corner.

You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze on you, and when you turned to him, your suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t look away or pretend not to be observing you.

But you were the one who turned away first. “I thought you hated me,” you confessed, lowering your voice as shyness crept up your neck, making your face hot.

His lips curved in a tiny, downturned smile. “Why?” he asked gently.

The barista placed your drink beside you. You thanked them, wrapping your hands around the cup, even though your fingers weren’t cold.

“I just got the feeling you didn’t like me. When I was dating Mingyu,” you said, your heart stammering at your own boldness.

Wonwoo blinked, taking the last sip of his coffee. “I never disliked you,” he said bluntly, offering a solemn look that made you realize how quickly you had judged him. “Nor did I have anything against you. I thought I was looking out for him.”

“Yeah. I got that,” you whispered, nervously rotating your cup on its saucer.

He leaned in slightly, his face still serious—but now tinged with a quiet kindness. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you smiled, unable to hide the hurt lingering behind your eyes.

He tapped his thumb against the cup and drew in a long breath through his teeth. “Are you doing okay?” he asked, his brows knitting slightly as he looked at you.

You met his gaze, surprised by both the question and the softness in his tone. You opened your mouth to lie—to say you were fine, better than ever.

But there was no escaping his expert scrutiny.

“I’m trying,” you finally admitted, your voice barely holding itself up.

Wonwoo nodded, gaze softening. But he didn’t push further. It was almost like he was waiting to confirm something he already suspected.

“Is he—” you swallowed hard, nearly choking on your spit as you turned your face. You sighed the nerves out of your chest.

“He’s doing okay,” Wonwoo said, understanding exactly what you meant to ask.

There was honesty in his eyes. But then he looked back down at his empty coffee cup.

“He’s kind of a mess, but he’ll be fine,” he added. Now his voice carried a raw edge to it. “Mingyu has a tendency to fall too fast. Gets hurt in the process. Always.”

The words rang with a heavy familiarity. You blinked, trying to recall where you’d heard them before.  It was in your kitchen. One morning, after Mingyu had stayed over. The ache in your heart returned. “I know,” you choked out. “He told me.”

“I’m sorry it ended like that,” Wonwoo said. “For both of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you blinked, confused.

The light glimmered off his glasses. You saw his dark eyes searching your face, his lips parting ever so slightly.

“I guess this is me offering you an olive branch,” he said with a polite smile. “I never meant to intimidate you—or make you feel like I didn’t like you.” He straightened up in his seat, bowing his head slightly. “I regret being an asshole to you.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re forgiven,” you said, warmth creeping into your chest. “But don’t think we’re friends now,” you teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a grin.

You smiled—and your eyes drifted to the camera bag on the stool beside him.

The shop was nearly deserted. Two girls browsed the graphic novel aisle, while a few others lingered near the coffee bar. It reminded you of The Spot—except with bookshelves and hanging plants, instead of bright neon signs and loud rock music.

“Do you come here often?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “It’s quiet. Coffee’s good. Cookies are even better,” he added, pointing to the pastry case behind the glass.

“Have you tried them all?” you asked, eyeing the double chocolate cookie.

“I haven’t tried the pumpkin one,” he shook his head lightly.

You ordered a chocolate cookie, thinking that you were probably in need of a sugar rush. But deep down, you were wary, trying to protect yourself from more questions that you were sure were about to start.

“Do you carry your camera everywhere?” you asked instead, motioning to the camera bag on the other seat next to him.

“Just when I have days off,” he shrugged. “Mingyu pushed me to do this photography course online, and they’re very strict about the homework so,” he clicked his tongue, patting the camera bag with one hand.

You wanted to huff, getting the familiarity of his words yet again. “You don’t say.”

You took a bite from your chocolate cookie, humming in delight as the chocolate chips melted on your tongue. Wonwoo glanced your way, smiling softly as he outlined the corner of the book cover with one fingertip.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and it was the gentleness in his tone that really grounded you in reality.

You shook your head, swallowing hard as you tried to keep yourself composed. “I’m not good at talking about things,” you pointed out.

But you didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the chocolate dimming your good senses. Maybe it was the coziness inside the book shop that made you feel wrapped up in warmth and the smell of fresh coffee.

Or maybe it was the sound of Wonwoo’s voice. Inviting, soft and comfortable like velvet.

“I knew what I was getting myself into,” you said, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “I knew Mingyu was still healing from his previous relationship. But I still decided to stay, to be there for him. And he was really reassuring, you know? Sometimes he made me forget about his situation.”

You risked sending a quick glance at Wonwoo, and he nodded to you. “Yeah, I know,” he said gently.

“But one day he would tell me he wanted to be with me, and then he would disappear for days,” you added, and your throat closed up, your voice sounding bitter at the end of your sentence.

The atmosphere stilled, like stopping to witness your heartache. Even though time had passed, and you hadn’t seen Mingyu or talked to him again—the wound was still fresh. Flashes from when you sat at those bleachers haunted you, threatening to swallow you whole.

“It’s crazy because we were never anything serious,” you shrugged as a defense mechanism, like trying to get rid of the burden around your shoulders. “It was casual. No strings, no expectations—” you huffed a bitter laugh, tears brimming in your eyes. “But it hurts even more than when I broke up with my ex.”

Wonwoo shifted beside you, turning slightly on his seat to look at you better. “Your ex?” he muttered, so quietly that you barely heard him.

You nodded slowly, chewing on your lower lip. “Before Mingyu, I was with someone for years,” you said, and somehow, it felt easier to tell Wonwoo. As though nothing could hurt you anymore. “We lived together. I had plans and dreams of building a life with him, but…” You looked away, sighing tiredly. “He told me he wasn’t looking for marriage, nor something more serious.”

There was a pause.  And you were sure that Wonwoo was waiting for you to say something else, but you just took another bite from your cookie.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must’ve been really difficult for you,” he said, shifting again on his seat as he sighed deeply.

But your words started to sink into his mind. What happened with Mingyu was even more hurtful than what your ex-boyfriend did to you. Breaking up with someone after an unreconcilable difference was something—and by the time you broke up with him, you were already emotionally resigned.

But the feeling of almost being something cut even deeper.

You laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry I’m dumping all of this on you,” you told him, holding in your tears. “And after telling you that I wasn’t good at talking about serious stuff.”

Wonwoo shrugged, giving you a light, easy smile. “It’s the curse of a bartender,” he told you. “But I’m glad that you opened up. It’s already hard to deal with things, but to keep them all to yourself makes it suffocating.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you mumbled.

You placed your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your fist. “So you took the photos that are hanging on your living room?” you asked promptly, making it obvious that you needed to change the subject.

And he caught it straight away. “A couple of them, yes,” he mumbled, looking down at his camera bag. “I’m actually thinking of taking a stroll near the river. I have this task I need to get done, and maybe I can snap some good photos there.”

Your tummy twisted. It was hard to read if it was an invitation or not, so you just nodded.

“If you wanna come and hang out, it’s fine by me,” he whispered, noticing the hesitation in your expression.

You saw the glint in his eyes, there was an easiness on the tiny smile he showed you.

You were almost about to decline. To tell him that you were busy and had a ton of things to do at home.

But you felt lonely. And there was nothing serious about his invitation. It was just hanging out. 

“I’d like that,” you replied. But then you paused, “But before we go, I want to get some books.”

You stepped outside the shop and waited.

The pavement was slick with water from the light rain that had ceased moments before. The sky was still gray, blanketing the street with a quiet, gloomy heaviness.

Wonwoo followed soon after, now wearing the jacket he’d lent you. He glanced up at the sky and made a face. “This is not very ideal,” he muttered.

You nodded, adjusting the strap of your tote bag, which now hung heavy with books. “We could wait it out,” you offered with a shrug.

He looked around, scanning for shelter.

“Or,” you added, “we could just make our way to the river—take the opportunity while it’s not raining.”

Before he could respond, you were already heading down the street. Wonwoo fell into step beside you, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

“What did you get?” he asked, nodding toward your tote bag.

“A couple of graphic novels,” you said, peeking into the bag. “I’m also doing a course—learning tips and tricks about graphic design.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You also got convinced to take a course?”

You nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Wonwoo patted his camera bag. “I see,” he murmured, voice low.

A silence fell between you. But it wasn’t awkward—not this time. It reminded you of that quiet day at the museum. Stillness, but not distance.

“This is nice,” you said.

He turned his head toward you. “What is?”

“Not trying to run off,” you answered. “Not pretending I’m okay.”

He blinked, visibly unsure how to respond. But he didn’t look away. Something about speaking plainly with him felt good. For the first time in months, you weren’t hiding. You didn’t have to pretend you weren’t hurting.

After a moment, Wonwoo pushed his glasses up. “It is nice,” he said softly.

Both of you walked in silence, the city slightly slowed and hushed by the cold rain. The river glinted ahead, catching what little light managed to break through the clouds.

Wonwoo paused, slipping his bag off his shoulder and unzipping it. “Wait,” he said.

You tilted your head. “You don’t want to get closer to the river?”

“This is okay,” he murmured, already adjusting his camera.

A twist tightened in your tummy when you realized the lens was pointing toward you. “Should I step away?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked through the viewfinder with quiet concentration. “Don’t move,” he murmured.

You obeyed, though your nerves got the better of you—you shifted slightly, turning your head to the side to avoid meeting the camera’s eye.

Through the lens, Wonwoo saw you standing alone on the path that led down to the river. The pavement was scattered with the last of autumn’s leaves, but it was your face that caught him—the distant, thoughtful look in your eyes. The way you refused to look at him, even though he was really seeing you. All of you.

When he lowered the camera, you exhaled. “You could’ve told me you needed a model.”

The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe. But you would’ve said no.”

“True,” you admitted. “I’m not a model. I don’t know how to pose.”

“So you say,” he replied, brushing past you with a grin. “Stand over there.”

He pointed to a spot closer to the river, and you laughed under your breath.

“Fine. But you’re holding this.”

You shoved your tote bag full of books into his hands. He caught it with ease, the grin on his face widening.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest ached a little less. There was something in his boyish smile, in the gentle playfulness behind his glasses. And without thinking, you moved to where he asked, standing without questioning his order.

But the moment you stopped, you became overly aware of your body—your arms, your shoulders, your mouth.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo said softly.

You did. And in that moment, you forgot what it meant to pose. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t guarded. You just looked at him. And he looked at you, the shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The camera clicked. And you waited for him to take another shot, or to move.

“That’s it?” you asked, blinking away from him.

“I got it,” he nodded, his voice slightly hoarse.

He lowered the camera, and his eyes lingered on you for a second longer than they should’ve. His gaze softened. He looked thoughtful for a moment, until he gave you a sheepish smile.

“You’re surprisingly good at this.”

You snorted. “Surprisingly?” you said with a laugh, stepping toward him. “I probably look like those Renaissance paintings where they were still figuring out how to paint cats.”

He laughed out loud. “You’d make a very cute ugly cat,” he teased.

Your cheeks flushed, and you almost hated that you were smiling at him. But then his eyes met yours again, and you felt that same shift in your chest. That stupid pull, that traitorous flutter of your heart.

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, motioning at his camera. “Would you like to see the picture?”

You hesitated for a second—unsure why it suddenly felt like it was a big deal to step in closer to him—but nodded. He stepped closer, holding out his camera. And you leaned in, your shoulder brushing his.

You tried to focus on the photo, but the proximity was almost dizzying, and the strong smell of peaches filled your head. Your breath hitched.

The photo wasn’t perfect. You instantly saw all of the little imperfections surrounding you. Your hair was windblown, your expression flat. But your eyes… there was a softness in your eyes. A realness in them.

“You see?” he said. “Surprisingly photogenic.”

“I look caught off guard,” you murmured sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t look good,” he corrected gently.

Your heart thumped so hard that you were sure it was almost audible. But he didn’t look away.

You breathed in, trying to push the fluttering feeling out of you as you exhaled. “I should get going,” you said.

Wonwoo nodded, noticing the look in your eyes. “Your bag,” he said and unhooked the umbrella that you had lent him the other night. “Thank you for the umbrella and now the photos. I owe you one.”

You gave him a small smile. “You owe me nothing,” you told him. “It’s what friends do, right?”

Wonwoo paused, and for the first time, you wanted to get an in on what he was thinking. “Right,” he nodded.

Friends.

The apartment was dark when Wonwoo walked in, and only the faint light coming from the TV illuminated the way. Slipping off his shoes, he took his jacket off and hung it on the coat rack by the entrance.

Mingyu was on the couch, looking at his phone, not really watching anything. He was just sitting there, elbows planted on his knees, head bowed like he had been stuck in that position for a while before Wonwoo came home.

Wonwoo opened the fridge, took out a banana milk and punched the hole with the little straw. He sipped quietly, afraid to break the silence.

But it was Mingyu who spoke first. “You were out late.”

Wonwoo leaned against the counter, pressing his elbows against it. “Yeah. I went to the bookstore. Took some photos near the river.”

Mingyu nodded slowly, still not looking at him.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked slowly, starting to feel worried.

Mingyu shook his head. “I ruined everything.”

Wonwoo didn’t say anything right away. The rawness in Mingyu’s voice made Wonwoo’s heart falter.

“I keep thinking about her. About what I did,” Mingyu said, putting his phone away.

Wonwoo caught a glimpse of your profile photo on the display. His heart dropped to his stomach. “So call her.”

Mingyu gave a small, empty smile. “It’s not that simple,” he said, rolling his eyes with an annoyance that Wonwoo was sure was directed towards something else, not him.

“No, I know it’s not simple,” he said. “But it’s a start.”

Mingyu finally looked up, his tired eyes finding Wonwoo’s. “Would you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “If you had broken her heart, would you do it?”

Wonwoo shrugged, like the answer was clear as day. “If I cared about her, yeah. I would.”

Wonwoo remembered your sad smile. He remembered the brittle sound of your voice when you talked about your past heartbreak.

Mingyu looked away, shaking his head. “She deserved better than the way I left things.”

Wonwoo’s throat tightened, it was hard to swallow. He thought about the photos in his camera. About you. Your eyes. The way you were finally starting to laugh again.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said softly. “Yeah, she does.”

But Mingyu didn’t catch the shift in his tone. He locked his phone, deciding to not call you, nor text you. Not yet.

“I’m not ready,” Mingyu said, rising from the couch.

Wonwoo watched him walk to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.

After a moment, Wonwoo decided to head to his bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.

He leaned against the door for a long second, letting his head rest back, closing his eyes. The silence inside the apartment felt heavier—a hundred times worse than before.

He pressed the Enter button on his keyboard, bringing his computer to life. The hum coming from the fans of his computer started to fill the room. Wonwoo used the faint light coming from his double monitors to look for a change of clothes, something comfortable, before he sat down to work.

After he found a pair of black shorts and an oversized white t-shirt, he sat down on his chair, getting his camera out of its bag.

He scrolled through the different photos he got from the day at the museum. And then the photos he got from today. Photos of the wet pavement, the river, and the leaves scattered on the floor.

And you.

Wonwoo’s breath caught when he saw a photo he didn’t realize he had caught. In this photo, you weren’t looking at the camera. There was a softness in your features, a sad look in your eyes. The way you stood in the light, the shadows pooling at your feet.

Wonwoo stared at the photo, his finger hovering on the right click for a second before he moved the photo to another folder. One that wasn’t destined for the task.

He leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his long, dark hair. He didn’t want to feel guilty. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew this. But the weight in his heart begged to differ.

Wonwoo reached for his phone as he chewed on his bottom lip.

Then, with a laboured sigh, he opened your chat.

The last message between you and him was a simple thank you after he asked if you had arrived home alright. It was simple, friendly. 

Wonwoo hesitated, flexing his fingers over the keyboard before typing: “it was good seeing you today”

And that was it. He put the phone away, face down on his desk and dropped his head back against the chair. His heart was doing that stutter that it hadn’t done in a while. 

In years, even.

Things happen randomly sometimes. You weren’t looking for your life to be derailed one Sunday night. Not on purpose, at least.

You were curled up on your bed, scrolling numbly through your phone, a thing that would eventually lead to falling asleep, but you weren’t having any luck yet.

Your phone started vibrating in your hands, and the picture of your best friend from college, Mona appeared on the screen.

You had been dodging her calls lately, feeling like your recent actions might bring her judgment. But something about her calling late at night spiked your intrigue.

You swiped your thumb across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey there,” Mona replied, and something about her tone was off.

“Is everything okay?” you asked curiously.

“I need you to sit down,” Mona instructed bluntly.

You sat up on your bed, reclining on the headboard. “What’s happening?”

“Listen, I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to find out by other means.”

“Please, Mona, just tell me,” you sighed tiredly, already feeling the weight of anxiousness seeping in.

“Jay is getting married.”

You stopped cold. It was as though you were abruptly submerged into a pool of ice-cold water. Your body was too slow and too heavy to muster a reaction.

“W-what?” you blurted. A part of you felt like your friend was playing a really bad prank on you.

“Jay just announced his engagement,” she repeated, and you could hear the raw rage in her tone.

“H-how do you know?” you stammered, trying to compose yourself with slow and deep breaths.

Mona didn’t get along with your ex-boyfriend. Or with anyone who was still related to him. You knew this.

“Someone sent me screenshots. Look—I don’t mean to put you in a bad spot, but,” she paused, and you could tell from the deep sigh coming out of her that she was debating to tell you more. “But you deserve to know. Before someone else tells you and makes it worse.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your breath catching painfully against your ribs. “Thank you, Mona,” you told her.

“I got you,” she said right before hanging up.

It was about two seconds later that she sent you two pictures. There he was. Your ex. Smiling in a way you hadn’t seen in years, his arm slung around someone else’s shoulders. It was a girl you didn’t recognize. But she was cute. Glowing with a radiant smile on her face, showing off her brand new engagement ring.

The caption under the photo made your stomach lurch.

To a future together- Mr. and Ms. Bang 💞

You stared at the photo. Read the caption. Then stared at the photo again.

The screen blurred, and you realized that your hands were shaking.

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

You left the phone aside, burying your face in your hands as though you could fix the stabbing pain in your chest.

You weren’t supposed to care anymore. You stopped caring about your ex long ago. But the pain was raw, eating at your heart quickly. It hurt so deep you couldn’t breathe.

It was like you were sitting at that basketball court again. With nothing but your aching heart in your hands.

The room was spinning, and everything felt wrong. You got out of bed, grabbed your hoodie, keys, and shoved your phone in your pocket. And without thinking, you scrambled to the door.

You needed to get out of there. You needed to move, to do something.

It rained again on the walk to the nearest convenience store. But you didn’t bother with an umbrella this time. You let the drizzle soak into your hair, your hoodie, your sneakers.

Maybe the rain could help wash this pain out of you. Maybe the rain could fix whatever was broken inside you.

You grabbed a couple of bottles of alcohol, not caring what you took with you and paid.

You were walking out of the convenience store when you bumped into him. A tall, hard frame that almost had you stumbling back onto the floor, weren’t for those hands holding you steady.

You looked up, your heart stopping at once when you saw the man who had helped you catch your step.

“Careful there,” Jeon Wonwoo said, helping you catch your step.

His gaze swept over you—taking in your soaked hoodie, your damped hair, your hurt, glassy eyes.

“Sorry,” you said awkwardly, looking down at your feet.

Rain continued to fall, slowly, trickling down the back of your head and soaking through your clothes. You were sure that Wonwoo had already spotted the state you were in, and the bag with bottles of alcohol inside.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, studied you.

And saying nothing was somehow worse. Because it meant that he saw all of you. He saw the way you could barely hold yourself together. Your lip quivered. You hated yourself. You hated the power that you had given to other people to make you feel this way.

You blinked rapidly, trying to fight the sting in your eyes. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was heading back home but—” Wonwoo took a cautious step towards you, like approaching something wounded and dangerous.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, his voice barely audible. “You’re okay?”

The stupid kindness in his voice snapped something inside you.

The first sob ripped from your throat without any warning. It was sharp, humiliating. It told of the many days and nights you contained yourself. You clamped a hand over your mouth, but it was far too late.

Wonwoo swayed towards you, closing the distance. He didn’t touch you, not right away. He just stood there, as though figuring out what to do. Figuring out what he wanted to do.

Something broke loose in you. Without thinking, you stumbled forward, crashing into his chest. Your hand clutched the front of his jacket, twisting the fabric.

Wonwoo caught you with not even a second of hesitation, wrapping you in a big hug. Like he was holding you to keep you from falling onto the ground. 

You didn’t question it, and neither did he. It was a simple gesture. A human connection. 

You cried against his chest, broken, shuddering gasps tearing out from your chest as the flood you had been containing finally broke loose. A part of you wanted to explain to him why you were crying. But you couldn’t make out the words—the pain was so great, greater than you.

You had broken your promise. 

“I’m sorry,” you said disjointedly, backing away from him while wiping your tears.

“It’s okay,” he said, sending a look around. “Where are you going with that?” he asked, motioning to the paper bag you were holding in one arm.

“To my home,” you sniffled, pointing down the street.

“Do you need company?” he said politely, but you realized he wasn’t taking a no for an answer. “Let me walk you there.”

You wondered how messed up you really looked like that, he felt compelled to walk you home. “Okay,” you agreed, and started walking towards your apartment building.

The walk was quiet. Your head was so filled with different thoughts that you couldn’t bring yourself to say something.

You didn’t remember the walk to your building. But you remember standing beneath the awning, turning around, and sending a flitting glance up to his face.

“Do you need to talk?” he asked slowly. It was a simple question.

Your throat tightened, and burned. Gnawing on your lower lip, you nodded.

A worried expression flashed across the features of his face. It was for a second, fleeting.

“Come upstairs?” you asked, and the sorrow and desperation rose in your tone, showing in your eyes. “Please.”

His mouth parted ever so slightly. He surely must’ve realized the implications of him coming to your apartment. But what exactly was to be expected?

“Of course.”

Stepping inside your apartment with Wonwoo following you closely felt surreal. But everything else going on in your life made it shrink in comparison.

“Come in,” you whispered, leaving your sneakers at the front door, closing it once Wonwoo followed you inside, watching you closely.

You hadn’t even turned the lights off when you walked out of your apartment. You left the bag on the counter before grabbing a bottle, cracking it open and gulping down three large mouthfuls of straight alcohol.

Wonwoo blinked in shock. “Oh, God,” he stammered, watching you as though he needed to do something soon. “Calm down.”

You exhaled heavily, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. You motioned the bottle to him, raising your eyebrows.

But he shook his head. “I don’t drink,” he said politely.

“Okay, then,” you shrugged, drinking down another three large gulps.

Wonwoo watched you intently, crossing his arms as the muscles of his jaw tightened. “You’re scaring me,” he said finally.

You laughed—a raw and broken sound. It tore from your chest. “Good,” you said, putting the bottle down.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low. He tilted his head forward, his eyes zeroing in on you.

You shook your head, commanding your gaze to look anywhere else but his face. But sadness started to seep in, like icy venom running through your veins. Anger and humiliation took over so fast that you couldn’t stop the muscles of your face from contracting.

“My ex,” you choked out. “Remember him? The one I spent years with, the one who swore he would never be ready for commitment?”  

Wonwoo’s posture shifted slightly, his mouth parted with realization before you could even speak out the following words:

“He’s just got engaged,” you said, your tone breaking in the middle of your sentence. “He’s getting married to someone else. Someone good enough.”

The words were heavy, bitter on your tongue. And even if they weren’t true to some extent, they hurt to say.

Wonwoo’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He blinked slowly once, breathing in through his nose. And when he opened his eyes again, you saw anger flashing in his eyes. But you also saw pity in them.

You laughed again, the sound dry and almost miserable. “It’s not like I care about him,” you spat. “It’s not about him.” You looked down at your hands, trembling around the bottle of alcohol. “It’s about me.”

You finally raised your gaze, making eye contact with him. You hated the broken worry you saw in his eyes. The way his eyebrows twitched, and his dark eyes searched your face. You wondered what he was seeing in your face that made him react that way.

“It’s gotta be me, right? I have to be the common denominator,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s always me. I’m not good enough to stay for.”

You let out a sigh that sounded more like a sob. A broken moan of loneliness, heaviness. A storm that was brewing deep inside you, and it wasn’t just because of this recent turn of events.

“But that’s not it,” you said, hot tears brimming in your eyes as your voice rose: “It’s everyone. No matter what I do. I’m always someone’s almost.”

Your voice cracked in the last word, and you had to bit down on your lip to stop it from trembling.

Through the corner of your eye, you saw Wonwoo approaching, closing the space in your tiny kitchen. It was a cautious move, but steady. Determined.

“You’re not the problem,” he said firmly. “You’re better off without him. He’s an idiot.”

You laughed bitterly this time. “Right. Because Mingyu wasn’t another idiot who decided that I wasn’t enough either.”

Wonwoo flinched.

But you didn’t care if your words were harsh. You tipped the bottle between your lips again, downing the last bit of alcohol in it. You would feel its effects soon, and you were beginning to wonder if getting drunk was the right thing to do.

It would take the pain away. And you needed that.

“You really think I don’t know he fucked up?” Wonwoo said, his voice hard.

You blinked, your eyes snapping to his face.

But he continued, taking another step towards you. “You think I don’t see it? You didn’t deserve any of it,” he said, his voice raw, and there was an edge to it that you couldn’t understand. “Not from him. Not from anyone.”

You swallowed your tears, your heart thumping so hard that it was starting to hurt in your chest. “You don’t know me,” you whispered.

Wonwoo didn’t skip a beat. “I know enough.”

Perplexion hit you, and part of you wanted to pause and listen to what he was saying. The look of pity painting the features of his face made you think that you were probably looking more broken apart than you had initially imagined.

But before you could stop yourself, you huffed a laugh, letting your tears go. “And what happens when you get to know me more?” you snapped. “You’ll leave like the rest of them.”

The features of his face contracted slightly, your words hitting somewhere he wasn’t letting show. “You don’t know that—”

“Save it,” you cut in, but the sharpness in your voice had lost its edge. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like—” your voice broke, and you blinked away from his gaze. “—to never be enough. To love someone and then watch them walk away to someone new.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t turn this on me,” he said, his voice sounding rough. “Don’t tell me I don’t get it.”

“Then why do you have that look on your face?!” you shot back, wiping the tears with the back of your hand.

He ran a hand over his mouth, as though trying to smooth out the quiet rage that you had sparked. “You really think I don’t care,” he spat, the snappiness of his words making you flinch. He took another step, so close to you now that you could sense the storm shaking inside him. “You still think that I'm an asshole.”

Your breath hitched, making your brain swim inside your head. You were sure that it was the alcohol starting to take effect.

But you were also not equipped to hear this. You didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want to feel this. Not now.

But it was too late. You had fractured the only thing that held Wonwoo’s composure. It was then that you saw him. His hair was ruffled, wet with the few droplets of rain he had caught on the way here. His glasses had slipped down the perfect bridge of his nose. He looked messy, angry, and out of control.

He pointed at his chest. “You think I like sitting on the sidelines?” he said darkly. He never raised his voice at you, but he was breathing hard. “You think I like to watch you like this over the people who hurt you?”

You froze, your heart stammering painfully against your chest. His words had hit you like a slap. “W-what?” you breathed, so shocked that you had stopped crying.

His breathing turned ragged, he looked torn. Like he was trying with everything in him to stop himself. Every inch of him trembled with the force of what he wasn’t supposed to say to you.

“You’re not a second choice.” He rasped, letting out a short sigh through his nose. It was done now. Too late to take it back.

His words stunned you. You should’ve reacted quicker, were it not for the feeling making your heart flutter. “Wonwoo—” you pleaded, but you didn’t realize that your body was moving. Moving towards him.

His hands grabbed your face, his fingers burying themselves in your wet hair, just as your hands found the front of his jacket.

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was messy. Desperate. The kind of kiss that neither you nor he wanted, you could feel it in him. His lips captured yours with a vehemence that overpowered you completely. But your hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling him down into you like you needed him to breathe.

And Wonwoo kissed you back. He kissed you like he waited for so long to do that, his tongue brushed against your lip as he rolled it inside your mouth, tasting the alcohol in your tongue. He breathed out softly when he heard the broken moan he got out of you, and stopped.

You broke apart, panting. Wonwoo pressed his forehead against yours, and you realized as he dropped his hands from your face that he was shaking.

“I.. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raspy, low. He sounded lost. “I didn’t mean to, but...”

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice breaking.

But neither of you pulled away.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes. You wanted to cry. The very feeling that had made your heart flutter went wild, beating against your chest. You wanted to get rid of it—you wanted to rip your own heart out.

Slowly, Wonwoo peeled off your body, lifting his forehead from yours. You stepped back, your hands falling at your sides.

And with one deep breath, you raised your gaze to his face.

You had to put a hand on the counter for support. Your head started to swim with a remorseful pain. You knew this was wrong, but didn’t exactly know why. “Wonwoo—” you said, unable to raise your voice any higher.

“I should go,” he cut in, as though the weight of what he had done just caught up with him. “This was wrong. I shouldn’t have come here.”

But Wonwoo looked torn. His face was painted in sick worry, his eyebrows were drawn, his mouth slightly twisted. Somehow, his words cut you deeper. You nodded, agreeing with him, but it cost you to breathe normally.

However, he did not attempt to move. His eyes read your face, and his gaze softened when he saw your eyes brim with tears again.

“I understand,” you whispered, bringing your fingers to cover your mouth to hold in your sobs.

Except that you couldn’t understand. Not really. You couldn’t understand why kissing you was such a bad thing. Mingyu left you.

And you were always the one who made it easier for everyone to go.

You could feel Wonwoo’s scrutiny on you. The way he silently absorbed every emotion showing on your face. Your face tickled with shame, the sensation spreading and lingering all over you. You shrank under his gaze.

The rain pattered lightly on the windows, the quiet, distant lightning illuminated the room for a second. But the space between you was heavy with everything neither of you wanted to say, despite it being obvious.

You had crossed a line you wouldn’t be able to come back from.  

“I-I’ll walk you to the door,” you said, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence.

Then, you motioned to the door, walking past him in your tiny kitchen. Your shoulder brushed against his arm, feeling the way he moved towards you, his hand catching yours in one second.

You snapped your gaze to him, having no time to move or to stop him.

There was something in his eyes when you exchanged a short glance with him. He paused, but only to make sure that you wouldn’t back away.

Wonwoo kissed you again—this time more certain. There was no fumbling, no scrambling to get the kiss done in a rush. You closed your eyes, your hand searching for his wrist as he held your face, kissing you deeper.

His other hand found your waist, grabbing you to pull you into him. You could feel the warmth coming from his body, the way it seemed that he was still shaking, but it felt different this time. Like the quick beating of his heart wasn’t out of anxiousness of kissing you, but from finally doing it because he wanted to.

When you broke apart, both of you were panting, but Wonwoo didn’t stop kissing you. His lips brushed against your lower lip, giving you tiny, but feathery kisses that trailed to the corner of your mouth and to your cheek.

You could feel his quick breathing brushing against your skin, making it prickle. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your wet hair.

“This is wrong,” he repeated with a whisper, but now there was an air of finality in his tone. “But I want it.”

Your eyes fluttered closed again. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your spine. “W-what—I don’t understand, you said—”

“I wish I had answers right now,” he said, pulling back softly from you. He gave you a solemn look, his glinting eyes searching yours, searching for reasons to pull away from you, from this. “But I don’t think I can pretend any longer.”

“What?” you breathed warily, your heart skipping a beat.

He shook his head softly. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, taking a tiny step towards you. “I know that this is a lot for you right now. And I don’t have issues with stepping back, if that’s what you want.”

Everything inside you raged. It was a split-second of realizing that everything was upside down, everything was wrong. No matter what you felt, no matter how hard you tried, there was always something in the way.

And this time, your broken heart was the thing in the way.

“You deserve better,” you whispered. It slipped out before you could even stop yourself. You sounded raw and vulnerable.

His face shifted, his eyebrows knitted softly, his eyes reading your expression. “But I want you,” he said.

His words were like a thousand bricks falling on you. Everything that he told you came crashing down—about him being tired of being sidelined, of watching you torn apart for other people.

“I’m broken,” you whispered, and you wished to sound less angry about it, but there was an undeniable venom coating your words.

His fingers clenched your waist, resting his forehead against yours. “And I still want you all the same.”

You went still while your mind reeled with all the possible consequences that this might bring to your life. You were a mess.

“This is not a good idea,” you finally whispered. You were giving him all the reasons to walk away, to choose for himself before he let himself get involved with you.

His breath hitched slightly. “I know.”

You stepped back, but not far. You just wanted to look into his eyes, to get a read on what he so jealously protected with his mask. “Please…” you started, trying to select your words carefully, but your mind was swimming. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

One poison draws out another. Wonwoo remembered his friend’s words carefully.

His brows narrowed. “Don’t worry about me,” he whispered. And you realized that his hands had stopped shaking, but you knew he was still nervous about holding you this close.

You wanted to say something. You wanted to list out all of the reasons why you were not good for him.

But, God, you were lonely. And angry.

Wonwoo saw the quiet determination settling on the features of your face, making him step closer to hold you tightly to his body. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, one last confirmation before crossing that line, permanently.

Your head was swimming, but the determination weighed heavily in your heart. “I am,” you nodded. Then you slipped a hand on his nape, pulling him into a kiss just as he leaned towards you.

He circled your neck with one hand, holding you to kiss you fully, deeply. His lips fit with yours perfectly, moving seamlessly in a passionate way. This kiss was different, it was burdened with a heat that made you suspect he wanted to kiss you for a long time, but couldn’t.

This was wrong, but it felt so good.

And now, neither of you could stop. 

It soon dawned on you that Wonwoo wasn’t stopping either. A wave of need and arousal rose within you, wrapped with a bitterness that you should’ve stopped to pay attention to.

Your hands skirted over the pads of his jacket, starting to peel it off. He helped you, shrugging off his jacket and letting it drop to the floor. Wonwoo didn’t stop kissing you, and he did this with such force that you thought you could break.

Because that’s what you wanted. You wanted to be bad, to give in to the sticky feeling spreading inside your chest.

Neither of you stopped to talk, it was clear where the moment was leading down to.

Your movements were rushed, as though if you paused for longer than a second, you might start to regret this. You took his t-shirt off, messing up his glasses in the process.

Wonwoo smiled sheepishly, fixing his glasses back up. As he looked at you, there was an undeniable feeling that made your heart stutter.

You took his hand, staggering towards your bed, but Wonwoo pulled your body in before you could make it, quickly grabbing your hoodie to strip it off your body.

The hesitation, prudence, and any morsel of sanity that was holding you back evaporated. You fully gave in to the craving inside you once your clothes started to drop on the floor.

Wonwoo grabbed you by your bare waist, pulling you closer to his body to kiss you again. His hands roved all over your back, finding the clasp of your bra to undo it.

It happened fast, one by one, both of your clothes were discarded in between rushed kisses. None of you spoke a word, and you were thankful for that.

“Sit on the bed,” Wonwoo said with a rasp, his hands leaving your waist.

You obeyed without a second thought, sitting on the foot of your bed. Wonwoo pressed a knee on the edge of the bed, leaning over you and pushing you to lie back. His arms towered next to your shoulders, serving for support as he pressed his bare chest against yours.

He watched you for one long second, his gaze dark and lascivious. His hand returned to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip softly. “Stop me if you don’t want any of it,” he said.

“Wonwoo.” You called, feeling like you might just pass out from the wanton need brimming inside you.

“Mmn?” he raised his brows, his eyes studying your face.

You grabbed his face, holding his gaze. “Fuck me,” you whispered.

His eyes widened slightly. “How?” he replied.

“Just do it,” you said. But then, swallowing hard, you reconsidered. “Fuck me hard.”

 He showed you a grin. It looked wicked, almost feline. But before he could explain where the smile was coming from, he was leaning again, brushing his lips against yours slowly, lightly. “Dirty girl,” he whispered into your mouth, kissing it softly.

A low, breathy moan escaped you at the sound of those words. “Please,” you begged, your lips still brushing against his.

You didn’t have to ask twice. Wonwoo kissed you deeply, removing his hand from your chin to find your waist. He sank down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck, then down to your chest.

His wet lips on your skin awoke something within you. It had been so long since you felt something at all that your skin was already prickling at the slightest touch. He kissed your chest, his hands cupping your tits, pushing them to make them bulge. He planted soft, slow kisses around your nipples, pulling out his tongue to glide it on your areolas.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hands cupping the back of his head.

His lips wrapped around one of your perked nipples, tugging at it lightly as his thumb teased your other nipple, brushing his pad against it. He hummed lightly, giving your breasts a couple of open-mouthed kisses before he continued exploring your body further down.

Your head was spinning, and you had to force yourself to close your eyes. The sight of him getting down on his knees before the bed was so arousing to you that you shuddered from it.

He gently nudged your thighs apart, propping them on his shoulders as he leaned against your body to press his lips on your inner thighs. He taunted you with kisses, bringing out sweet moans from you as he came closer and closer to your dripping wet pussy.

“Please,” you whispered, feeling his breath fanning against your skin, the tip of his tongue brushing before he pressed another kiss on your inner thigh.

That was all he needed. His mouth was on you, licking you, tasting you. You arched your back off the mattress, your hands balling into fists around the covers. The first brush of his tongue against your folds made your whole body come to life.

You moaned loudly, closing your eyes so hard you saw stars. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” you cried out, already panting for air, making yourself dizzier.

He forced your thighs open, burying his mouth on your pussy like he had something to prove. He didn’t do the bare minimum, no. He licked every single inch of your cunt, exploring it with his tongue, and repeating the things that brought the loudest moans from you.

So he quickly realized that teasing your clit was the way to go. He wrapped his lips around your clit, pressing his tongue on it before starting to flick it from side to side.

You didn’t know what to do, between grabbing his hair or holding onto the covers, you felt like you were about to pass out from pleasure. Your head was spinning, your whole body tingling with your orgasm.

His fingers slid between your folds, finding your pooling entrance. The first slide of his fingers into you tipped you over the edge, tearing a loud, raspy moan from your chest. You went rigid, letting the fiery waves of your orgasm consume you wholly, making you whine and moan pathetically.

His fingers massaged into you, bringing out lewd, wet sounds from out of your cunt. He was now giving slow, thorough kisses, drinking in your arousal, moaning with you.

“Wonwoo…” you called weakly, brushing his hair back with tired fingers.

You were more than ready for him now.

So you sat up, trying to push him back so you could finish undressing him.

Wonwoo understood what you wanted without having to speak up. He rose to his feet, and your tummy twisted when you caught sight of his dishevelled form. His hair was ruffled, and his glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. There was a glistening wetness on his chin.

Your thumbs fumbled to take his boxers off, tugging at the waistband clumsily. You raised your gaze, finding his eyes before you pushed the last piece of clothing he wore down.

A sudden rush invaded you. There was no going back now. And you wanted this, you needed this.

You swallowed hard, revelling at the sight of his naked body. Wonwoo was lean, the muscles of his abdomen were well-defined, dipping between his bulging pectorals. His shoulders were wide, and his biceps were toned.

There was a soft, dark trail of hair from his belly button, which you followed down with your gaze. Your breath hitched. He was huge—not that girthy—but the length of it almost made you doubt whether it would fit inside you.

“You’re very sexy,” you stammered, looking away in shyness.

But he used a hand to cup your chin, tipping your head back so he could meet your gaze. “You’re very sexy too,” he said.

You gave him a small smile, grabbing his hand as you lay back on the bed. Wonwoo followed you, his body towering over yours.

He pushed one of your thighs with his knee, crawling on top of you and framing your head with his arms. His lips trapped yours in a feathery kiss, smearing your arousal on your chin.

He tensed, his breath hitching when you wrapped your fingers around his hard cock. “Do you have condoms?” he whispered.

“Mm-mmn,” you shook your head, rolling your hand all over him.

You lifted your knees to your chest, gliding the tip of his cock between your folds.

“Raw?” he breathed, still giving you sweet kisses.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded.

“Words, baby,” he said with a rasp, pulling away to look at your face. “Use them.”

You blinked at him slowly, not hiding the lust that was threatening to consume you whole. “Fuck me raw,” you pleaded.

Your words had an effect on him; his gaze darkened. He grabbed your wrists with one hand, driving them above your head and pinning them there. He notched his cock on your entrance, and that was the only warning he gave you before sinking inside you.

Your mouth dropped open, a silent gasp coming out of him as Wonwoo pushed his cock inside you, looking into your eyes, grabbing every detail, every reaction showing on your face.

Wonwoo blinked slowly, letting out a breath through his nose once he sheathed himself completely in your walls. “Fuck,” he whispered. And that might’ve been the first time you heard him cuss like that.

You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe. He released your hands, and you found his shoulders, your fingers shaking slightly against his skin.

Wonwoo trapped your lips with his, kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing against the roof of your mouth. Slowly, you felt your body relaxing, your walls fluttering and easing around him. You moaned into the kiss, just as he pulled his hips back slowly, making you feel every raw inch of his long dick.

You whimpered slightly as he pushed into you, still slow but deeper this time, his hips meeting yours with every thrust.

He slipped a hand beneath your head, his fingers curling around your hair. “You okay?” Wonwoo whispered, his lips lingering on yours slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, breathing fitfully. 

It was the only confirmation he needed before he drove into you, picking up a pace. Panting, he gave you a quick kiss on your lips before he started plowing on you.

He started fucking you hard, fast. As though the anger from the argument he had with you returned and he wanted to fuck the steam out of his system. His thrusts became rougher, calculated, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck, Wonwoo,” you whimpered, your mind going blank. “Please, please, don’t stop,” you were begging again, losing control. Pleasure started to build inside you again, and you were afraid that the alcohol you had consumed before was also pushing you closer to your second orgasm.

Wonwoo was panting, his breath brushing against your cheek before he kissed it. “Cum for me, baby,” he muttered darkly.

It was maddening to think that the shy, quiet and reserved guy could talk to you like that. Let alone, fuck you like that. And he was not slowing down, his thrusts were brutal, pushing his cock deeper each time.

You didn’t have the space to breathe, nor to give him any warning. You could only give him a couple of sharp gasps right before you orgasmed again. You cried out, the sound whiny, raspy, while your orgasm rippled through you.

Wonwoo groaned, feeling your pussy clamp tightly around his cock. Burying his face on the crook of your neck, you felt his laboured breaths, right before his lips latched onto your skin, sucking a lovebite into it.

“Fuck—Wonwoo,” you gasped. Unable to do anything else but give in to the sweet rapture.

Wonwoo heard you, peeling off your neck to kiss your lips swiftly. “Where do you want me?” he asked with a strangled tone.

You could feel your walls flutter around him at the sound of his words. You considered it for half a second, but then— “Inside,” you whispered. “Cum inside me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He grunted, leaning to press his forehead against yours. His fist tightened around your hair, just as his strokes became harder, and deeper, fucking his cum into you.

Wonwoo was panting tiredly as he dropped his face on the crook of your neck again.

You stared into the void, wrapping your arms around him, realizing that you body was shaking.

Slowly, as though coming to his senses, Wonwoo peeled off your body, but just barely. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. His glasses were slightly fogged, which he fixed with one hand. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head on your pillow.

Wonwoo’s brows knitted softly.

“I’m okay,” you replied, realizing your voice was hoarse, you swallowed. “I promise.”

He was still breathing hard, so he just smiled tiredly at you. He sat back on his haunches, gently pulling out of you. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You blinked at him dumbly.

He pointed with his finger to one side of his neck. “I did that,” he put in meekly.

You instantly brought a hand to your neck, right on the spot that was tingling and hot. “It’s okay,” you sighed.

Wonwoo paused, making sure that you were indeed alright. “Want me to bring you something to clean up?”

“No, I’ll just take care of it in the bathroom,” you said, rolling over on your bed. Once you stood on your feet, the whole room spun around you, making you giggle.

“Careful,” he said, springing into action. He rose from the bed, stretching an arm toward you to keep you from stumbling to the ground.

“I’m okay,” you said. Staggering to the bathroom, you got to see the red spot right on the curve of your neck.

But you couldn’t care less.

After weeks, you could finally feel something again. Something other than the fucking misery that seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

Part of you wondered when the moment would be to start feeling bad about this. But you realized that you were too tired to feel remorseful about fucking Mingyu’s best friend.

You’d feel dirty tomorrow.

Wonwoo’s phone buzzed somewhere on the floor. It was buried in the scattered clothes, beneath his jeans. He picked it up, his heart jolting nervously when he read Mingyu’s name on the screen.

“crashing late?” read Mingyu’s text.

Wonwoo chewed on his lower lip. “yeah, sorry, something came up” he replied.

You were back in the room, rummaging in your drawers, looking for a t-shirt to cover your bare body.

You didn’t notice the worry flashing across Wonwoo’s face. “Hey,” you called softly.

Wonwoo was already looking at you, thinking of what to do. “Hey,” he mumbled, giving you a tiny but sweet smile.

“Do you want to stay the night?” you asked meekly, realizing that your request might be too much, you added. “I don’t want to be alone,” you added with a note of sincerity.

The tight feeling trapping his heart eased. “Of course,” Wonwoo replied, locking his phone before climbing onto the spot next to you on the bed.

As you lay back, you sent him a fleeting glance, biting your bottom lip.

Wonwoo smiled when he saw the hesitation in your demeanor. “Come here,” he whispered, motioning you closer to him.

You gave him a light smile. “Okay,” you whispered, deciding to scoot closer to his body.

“We can cuddle, if that’s what you want,” he said with a knowing smile, despite the shyness he was exuding.

You let out a guilty giggle, realizing that you were subconsciously expecting aftercare with him. And Wonwoo was more than willing to give you just that.

“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled shyly.

“We just had sex, and you think I’ll consider cuddling weird?” he laughed.

“Just… shut up,” you sighed.

He didn’t reply, just watched you as you moved towards him beneath the covers. You rested your head on his chest, just as he wrapped an arm around you, hugging you comfortably to his frame.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice like velvet against your senses.

You tilted your head back, glancing at his face. “Yes,” you replied. “This is nice,” you told him, turning your head again to nuzzle against his warmth.

Wonwoo wrapped a hand around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Rest up,” he whispered gently, kissing your brow.

But you were already dozing off, only being able to reply with a sweet hum before you were completely gone.

Wonwoo waited until the rhythm of your breathing deepened to raise his phone, unlocking it to read Mingyu’s last messages.

“I regret everything,” the first message read.

And then the last two read,

“I want to fix it.

But I don’t know how.”

☾ author's note: alexa, play bittersweet

this author's note is to once again, thank you for your support! the feedback i got from the previous chapter. i was amazed by the amount of comments and asks that i got! 🥺 i still can't believe the amount of people who commented, reblogged and came to my inbox to say something! i love you all!

this post has been in my drafts since january 2024 🫥 and since i posted the previous part of this series, a lot, and i do mean a lot of you guys came to me with questions about whether or not i had something planned for our wonwoo. i didn't want to give too much away because it would've ruined what i had planned.

well, this is how wonwoo is going to debut in his own series; in the wicked games series.

fun, right? 🙂

same as always, y'all know the drill. if you have something to say, comment it down below, share your opinions anonymously, reblog, like this post, share it with your grandma 🙂

yell at me, if that's what you want but keep it civil :D

i love you, thank you for reading!

toodles

☆ READ PART VI! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

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

[sevikaslatinawife]

Hey so I was wondering if you could do like a Sevika X Ambessa in a love triangle with a blue monarch chubby darkskin fairy….idk how to make it make sense 😭😭 I love your writing btw 💕👏🏽🤏🏽

Aw, I’m so glad you like my writing! ^^ I tried my best here, so please lmk if this is what you meant or I completely fucked up!

Also in my mind fairies = wings but like…idk man. Just let me know what you think.

Blue-Tinted Beauty

Warnings: f!reader, afab!reader, reader is described as dark skinned, chubby reader, kissing, love triangle, brief mention of sex

You were like a vision. Plump thighs, deep curves, soft face and body. Tight curls ran down your shoulders, falling perfectly between your still, blue wings. Your eyes are perked and pointy, eyes a bright blue to match the color of your wings.

Down here, you were a light. Your dark, smooth skin a beautiful contrast between the blue of your eyes and wings.

And that light attracted two very prominent women.

Ambessa and Sevika.

They seem to tolerate each other for your sake. However, in the bedroom, they synced up to bring you the most pleasurable experiences.

“Hello, little one,” You hear Ambessa’s voice before you see her. Too enraptured in thinking of the woman to notice you had made it to your house.

Your ears twitch and you look up to see her. All muscle and purposeful walk, a gleam in her eyes once you notice her.

“Ambessa,” You breathe, smiling when she tilts your chin back with a hook of her finger and presses a kiss against your lips.

You lean up to kiss her, feeling how she parts your lips with her own. You hum as her fingers find your sides, sinking into softness and warmth of your skin. Your arms find her strong neck to wrap around, to hold as she licks into your mouth slowly.

“Well, hello to you, too,” a low, rumbling voice speaks, the harsh thudding of boots following.

You immediately know it’s Sevika, as her cold, metal fingers trace down the middle of your back. You whine into Ambessa’s mouth in turn, shivering. The spot is always sensitive, especially at the base of your wings.

“Cute fairy,” Sevika mumbles and kisses the crown of your head.

You pull back from Ambessa’s mouth to smile up at Sevika. The woman cups your face in her hand and leans down to kiss you, tongue hurriedly pushing your lips open.

Your head reels. Ambessa tastes of expensive wine and fruits, Sevika tastes of hard liquor and tobacco. The contrasts between them makes you dizzy and your wings to flutter in excitement.

“Always so eager,” Sevika growls playfully into your ear. Ambessa turns you slightly in her hold to lean into your other ear and kiss the point of it.

“Such a pretty girl,” Ambessa mumbles, pushing your curls from your shoulder to kiss the juncture between your shoulder and neck.

“Our pretty girl,” Sevika corrects.

“Yours, both of yours,” You breathe as Ambessa kisses you again while Sevika nips your jaw and shoulder.

It’s so short I’m so sorry! I didn’t know if you wanted fluff or more 😫✨

[gemharvest]

wyd!Boyfriend (Beef) References

notes under the cut to save space

Design Notes:

5'6" (168cm) at adult height. 5'3" (160cm) at 13. Consistently chubby through most of his life.

Palette is flexible, idm seeing him colored in unique ways; the colors used in his ref are his base/ canon colors though.

Piercings are on his left ear only. The heart stud was gotten after he and Geef started dating seriously, and the triangle stud was gotten several weeks into him dating Peeks again.

Base color for his hair is the darker blue. Cyan can be interpreted as just a highlight, or as a secondary color and his hair is just Like That, idc.

S/h scars on his outer thighs that could be visible in swim wear/ shorts. Wears long pants the majority of the time though.

Misc Notes:

AuDHD, BPD; noticeable anger issues.

Cocky/ confident persona when out/ doing things. Way more laid back around those he trusts.

As a kid, had a tired/ timid demeanor. Wanted to make himself as unnoticeable as possible.

Generally sweet/ caring, he's just got issues LOLL.

Can be kinda oblivious to others' feelings sometimes, though when not caught up in his own, he does his best to be aware/ emotionally available to those he cares about.

VERY passionate about his hobbies/ interests. Feeds into his confident "rap persona".

Want to know more? I have a whole document going into so much more depth. Please help me he won't leave my brain.

+ His personal character playlist (on YouTube + Spotify mirror, though some songs are only available on YouTube).

[drak3n]

THE NEMESIS

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: love and hate are so close to each other for a reason.

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to strangers to lovers, neglectful parents, love triangles, high school drama, fights, swift mention of a bloody & bruised nose, reader was a misunderstood bully, makeup sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex

ꨄ. SENA'S NOTE: sorry for my inactivity y'all, a lot has been happening lately. anyways, this is over 5k words long so enjoy!

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it’s embarrassing to admit this, really. after all this time we’ve been apart from each other.”

atsumu and you didn’t always hate each other.

truthfully, you had started off getting along really well, even better than you’d gotten along with osamu. it was something no one could explain, until it all fell apart.

your story went all the way back to your second year of middle school, where the miyas had to move due to the twins’ mother having found a job on the other side of the prefecture. that meant the twins had to transfer schools as well.

it wasn’t like either of the two had difficulties at adapting to their new environments, given that they were quite popular because of their athleticism and their looks. even at their new school, their talent for volleyball made them climb up the ladder of fame in no time.

this is where you came in. a mean, popular girl who had no qualms about making other kids feel worse about themselves. everyone was careful not to cross paths with you or get on your bad side, afraid of your wrath.

the twins had been warned about your presence that lingered like a devil on the school grounds. “she hates boys who are loud and eccentric,” a classmate had told the two, and the younger twin shot a pointed look at the older, which made him glare back at him.

“the hell are ya starin’ at me for, samu!?”

“nothin’.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were the first person to approach me, although you knew what others thought of me. we were kids back then, but i haven’t forgotten.”

it was both a blessing and a curse to be avoided by everyone. you had your peace and no one was there to mess with you, but at times, it was really boring.

lunch breaks had to be the worst. if you ate your lunch at the hall, everyone would avoid you like the pest. you’d have a table that ten students could use, for yourself.

it was cold outside today, but you still sat on the bench in the yard, ignoring your growling stomach. your mother hadn’t been packing you lunch in a while, and you couldn’t find anything to shove into your bag last minute in the morning.

counting the coins you found in the pockets of your thin coat, you determined with a frown that it was nowhere near enough to buy even a cereal bar.

you could just bully some of the juniors into giving you money or their lunch. before you could stand up and march towards an innocent group of schoolkids playing tag on the other side of the yard, someone sat next to you.

your eyes narrowed at the sight of one of the new kids. you had no idea which of the two it was, given that you couldn’t distinguish a difference between them, and frankly, you didn’t really care. neither of the two shared a class with you anyway.

“hi, i’m atsumu, the older and cool twin!” he introduced himself, running a chubby hand through his thick, brown hair parted on the right. come to think of it, their hair was parted on different sides.

“whad’ya have for lunch? wanna swap? you can have my vegetables and cheese sandwich.” your eyes wandered down to the open box in his lap, filled with delicious bread and vegetables that made your mouth water. you haven’t even had breakfast this morning.

“why are you talking to me?” big, brown eyes widened at you dismissing him, when other girls would die for his attention. “i’ve already eaten.”

the loud growling of your stomach made you clutch your upper body, cheeks flaring in shame as the brunette grinned.

“liar! ya can have mine, y’know. here ya go.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were so obnoxious and insufferable to most, but i didn’t see that. i couldn’t care less about what you were like, when you were so nice to me.”

it hadn’t taken you too long to finally notice other differences between the twins. because sometimes when standing in front of either of them, you couldn’t quite tell if the part was on the left or right.

osamu’s eyes were a dark gray, while atsumu’s were brown, like molten chocolate. atsumu would always sound excited, his voice distinguishable from miles away, while osamu was more reserved and preferred calmness.

except for when the two were together, of course. atsumu was quite against introducing you to him, complaining to you that people always ended up liking his brother more, much to his chagrin.

but you were so alone all the time, so he dragged you along to watch him practice one day.

“hey… is that that girl?”

your body language was tense, the discomfort written all over your face as you gazed holes into the floors of the gym, where teammates of the twins were whispering among each other.

“i don’t think they want me here.” you didn’t look sad when you said it, nor did you look upset, it seemed like you’d already accepted it. atsumu had known you for weeks, and osamu had just met you, but it was the first time the two stepped up to defend someone instead of bickering at each other like they did all the time.

“hey, ya pricks! are ya not ashamed to be pickin’ on a girl?”

it had resulted in a fight, with the other members of the volleyball team complaining loudly about how atsumu was such a loudmouth despite being new, telling him to shut up.

it was the wrong timing perhaps, because punches started being thrown, but as you intervened and kicked the boys who dared to lay a hand on either of the twins, a feeling of fuzzy warmth spread inside of you as you could only think of the boy who shared his lunches with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“sometimes, i wish i could go back to relive those days. what i wouldn’t do to have you share one of your lunchboxes with me or have you include me in your life one more time.”

middle school seemed to pass in a blur, and you three graduated together, already knowing you’d be attending the same high school.

neither of you had the best grades or the best reputation, but at the end of the day, you happily held the certificates in your hands, having the twins’ parents snap photos of you three. one of those photos that had been taken that day, with atsumu and you shyly standing next to each other, would soon be framed and placed on your nightstand.

your parents didn’t attend. the sight of all students being hugged, kissed and celebrated by their families, while you were on your own chipped away at your heart.

“hey!” atsumu’s loud voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts, and he pointed at his parents looking through osamu’s report while smiling. “what’re ya bein’ so gloomy for? my parents are waitin’!”

with furrowed brows, you stared at the brunette, not quite understanding what he meant by that. you were going to head home, why would mr. and mrs. miya be waiting for you?

“we’re goin’ to this great barbecue place at the mall!” atsumu had told you about it before, the miyas had a tradition of going there for birthdays or other celebrations. it almost made you envious, because you didn’t have that.

“is that so?” you smiled at him, “have fun, tsumu. i’ll see you after the holidays.”

before you could turn around and leave, the boy tugged at your sleeve, pulling you back and towards his parents. you were stunned.

“i saved up all year to pay for yer meal! made my parents reserve an extra seat for you!”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it all went to hell when my pride got in the way. when you started hanging out with that girl, and i felt threatened by her.”

it was in your second year of high school when things had started shifting between you two. you were more than used to the fans who went crazy for the two, which progressively started getting unbearable at some point.

flooded lockers with letters and chocolates they’d share with you, countless confessions you’d hear and see, and girls bombarding you with favors of getting them closer to either of the twins.

you could live with that. after all, they weren’t popular for no reason. they were handsome, very much so, and they were volleyball prodigies, scoring countless points for inarizaki at each game.

there was one girl who had gotten atsumu’s attention as much as he had gotten hers. they were in the same class, too. it was osamu who told you they had started hanging out when you were surprised about them going to get lunch together, with him nudging her side and making her chuckle.

you had woken up half an hour earlier just to prepare a lunchbox you could share with the blonde. but at the end of the day, you sullenly sat at the same table with osamu and the rest of the team, staring at the untouched food. the atmosphere was awkward, and the boys exchanged glances, clueless as to if they should speak up and ask you what’s wrong.

“that looks really good.” of course suna was the first to talk, narrow eyes peering over at your lunch. “why aren’t ya eatin’ it?”

aran shook his head at the middle blocker’s directness, and osamu frowned when you shoved the pink box towards suna, no more having an appetite after watching atsumu and that girl sitting together. “you can have it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“jealousy is truly an ugly thing. so is love. it makes you do questionable things. but all i wanted was to protect you from heartbreak, even if it was at the expense of my own heart.”

the more time atsumu spent with her, the more worried you got. especially since there was some sort of sixth sense telling you that she was bad news.

you hated her for taking atsumu away from you, yes. but if she had been good for him, you would’ve accepted it, no matter how difficult. it was just that you knew she was no good.

“‘samu, i heard her talking to her girl friends in the dressing rooms after P.E.” you had bolted to osamu’s desk before the class would start, hair disheveled from the former class, and you were out of breath.

the younger miya quirked a thick brow at your words, “emma, you mean?” you nodded frantically, “she’s just using him for popularity. said she wants to dump him when he gets famous after high school, and she does too.”

osamu wasn’t really interested in entertaining any drama, especially when it came to his annoying brother. he could see how concerned you were for him though, and he couldn’t blame you for it. atsumu was very important to you, after all.

“are ya sure?” it wasn’t like he didn’t believe you. he just thought it might be a stretch. how was emma going to lead atsumu on for over a year, and how could she be so sure that he was going to be famous after high school?

“maybe she was just kiddin’. are ya sure you’re not just jealous?”

you were biting your lip, looking truly troubled. you did not want to ruin things, but you had to help atsumu get away from that bitch. you could not allow her to ruin him.

“‘samu, i—”

“atsumu is 17. neither of us should have t’tell him what to do. he has to learn himself.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i had never planned on taking osamu’s advice from the second i heard it. in my mind, the only reasonable thing was to make her stay away from you.”

it was exactly a week later after gym class that you cornered the same girl against the lockers. no one else was around, and with a hand against her mouth, you made sure she didn’t call for any help.

“what are you—” a surprised squeal left her lips when you slammed her back against the locker one more time, to make her shut up. with wide eyes, she looked into yours that were void of any emotion.

she knew who you were. the twin’s childhood friend, atsumu’s close friend. too close for the brunette’s liking.

“listen,” you warned her, glowering at her like she was your worst enemy, “i know what you’re plannin’. i will tell you this this just this once: stay away from him.”

you thought it would have been enough to seperate those two, to keep atsumu safe. to have him back.

of course it wouldn’t be. you couldn’t have known. it wasn’t until the very next day that it all backfired. when you entered the school grounds in the morning, school bag thrown over your shoulder and lunch prepared in hopes of getting to spend time with atsumu today after a long time, you soon noticed that something was off.

everyone was staring at you, whispering and gossiping. it was an all-too familiar sight to you, it was nothing new. ignoring it all, you proceeded to your locker that was next to atsumu’s. just to be greeted by emma leaning against yours, arms crossed in front of her chest as she wore a hoodie you’d recognize anywhere. it belonged to atsumu.

“move,” you gritted your teeth as you forced your eyes away from the hoodie, ready to shove her aside. “or what?” she feigned a pout, kicking against the locker to get everyone’s attention on you two, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “gonna threaten and hurt me again to get what ya want? because you can’t handle that he never wanted you?”

everything around you got quiet, students looking at each other in disbelief, and your hands clenched into tight fists. still, you kept quiet, knowing it would be bad if you caved in first.

“oh wait, could it be?” she suddenly clapped her hands together, chuckling while you deadpanned at her, seemingly unaffected by her attitude, when in reality, you were boiling from the inside out. “did you really think he’d choose you over me? he would never stoop so low! in fact, he actually told me you were not—”

everything happened fast after that. she was on the floor before she could blink, screaming as your enraged self was on top of her, seeing red. it was when you were at the principal’s office with cotton up your bleeding and bruised nose, and the scratches on your cheeks from when emma’s friends had dragged you off of her, that you finally realized what you’d done.

it only filled you with regret when atsumu came to cradle a crying, hurt emma in his arms, yelling at you to never, ever look at either of the two again.

maybe you should have listened to osamu, after all.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“school after that was hell for me, understandably. i couldn’t blame anyone for not talking to me anymore, most of all, you. i didn’t have the right to be hurt by you taking emma to that barbecue place with your parents after high school graduation… but i cried a lot that day.”

osamu had tried to get atsumu to talk to you again. to not be so mad at you. but the blonde was blind to the eyes and deaf to whatever his brother would tell him, so he eventually gave up on that, too.

you were too prideful and hurt to approach atsumu either, pretending that you hated him for having done this to you. he was the cause that you were a loser again. that you lost the only people you had in your life.

couldn’t he just have treasured you more?

it was on the day of your high school graduation that you asked the younger twin to talk for just a minute. gray-haired boy looked down at you, round eyes blinking multiple times as you offered him a small smile.

“i just wanted to let you know that i’m moving to tokyo for college.” he just stared at you, knowing very damn well you weren’t in the mood to smile like you were doing right now. “i heard you’re opening a shop soon. maybe our paths will cross again one day.”

when osamu didn’t say anything, you took it as a hue to leave, again having neither of your parents to share your success of having graduated with you. you rummaged in your bag before you could leave though, holding a letter in your hand that your fingers were itching to hand to him. “can you just give this to—”

actually, no. it didn’t matter.

with glassy eyes, you dropped the envelope back into your bag, zipping it shut. “forget it. take care, ‘samu.”

you cried on your entire way home, until you went to sleep that night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i regret not having given osamu that letter to this day, even years later. i’ve just recently added these paragraphs, because i’ve made up my mind to make this letter reach you anyway.”

the volleyball match playing on the tv served as background noise while you went through the cleaned kitchen at the hotel restaurant you’d worked at. everyone else had left already, and all that was done was to check the inventory and make sure everything was where it should be.

while checking off certain tasks you had to make sure were done, you halfway listened to the interviews after the match was over. it hadn’t even dawned on you that it was his team that had played today.

“is there anything you want to tell your fans after the great victory today, miya-san?”

your entire body froze, pen dropping on the list as your tired eyes wandered to the television. he looked breathtaking as ever, even when he was covered in sweat.

“i wanna say somethin’ to a certain someone, actually.” his grin made your heart stop, baring his pearly whites as his voice was slightly hoarse from all the yelling on the court. “i’m sure she’s watchin’ this right now.”

the reporter looked at atsumu with a curious, bright smile as she waited for him to continue, microphone right below his panting mouth. “who’s the lucky woman?” she questioned, which made him beam at the cameras.

you didn’t feel addressed, too certain that he had another lover he wanted to say something to. about to turn the tv off and announce your work as done for the night, you were stopped when he opened his mouth again.

“my nemesis, you could say,” he took a deep breath after answering the shorter woman’s question, “i got your letter. you know where i’ll be!”

this couldn’t be a coincidence. you had missed today’s airing of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, and they had confirmed that atsumu had gotten the letter. it had to be you, there was no way he meant someone else.

after a quick research, you found out that the match was indeed aired live and had taken place in hyogo, where both of you had grown up in. where you had moved back to after college, because tokyo wasn’t your home, hyogo was.

you knew exactly which place atsumu hinted at, and like a flash, you passed by the hotel lobby to speed towards the location.

it hadn’t even taken you ten minutes to arrive at the school gates of inarizaki high school. it had been a stupid pinky promises between you two while you were still on talking term; to meet where things ended, shall they ever end.

standing at that spot made your gut churn with negative and positive feelings. things had ended indeed, heartbreakingly so. but perhaps this was a chance to make up again. to start from zero.

you waited for at least an hour, you were sure. time didn’t seem to pass like this, and the more you grew aware that it didn’t, the more agitated you became.

what if he didn’t show up?

what if he showed up, just to tell you to go fuck yourself?

“what am i even doing?” you laughed breathlessly, fiddling with the car keys in your pocket. you should just leave. this was absolutely stupid and delusional of you, to actually hope you were going to make up.

“hey.”

stopping in your tracks, you grew aware of the person dressed in black, standing in front of you. they were wearing a mask and had a hood over their head, and they could’ve just been a criminal about to rob you of your money, but you’d recognize those eyes and that voice from anywhere.

this time, you didn’t wait. you didn’t let your pride hold you back as you ran into his arms, dwarfed up by his massive body that had just gotten even bigger over the years. his arms caged you in his form, swallowing all your sobs and cries in his fluffy, black hoodie as he stood still, rubbing the back of your head in soothing circles.

he was there. atsumu actually came. he came to see you. he didn’t hate you anymore.

“i’m so sorry,” you cried for the fiftieth time in five minutes, barely able to pull away as snot and tears ran down your exhausted face. his heart broke at the sight, his own eyes blurring with a wave of tears. “i’m sorry for everything, ‘tsumu. please, please forgive—”

with gentle, warm hands placed on your damp cheeks, tracing over the scars that had been left on you from that fight, he shushed you. “it’s okay.” you hated the mask for muffling his beautiful voice, and you felt your heart crack when a tear slid down his eye, disappearing under the mask. “i’m the one who should be sorry. i was the worst to you. you didn’t deserve any of it.”

he started sniffling, and your mind went blank, eyes wide as you grabbed onto his hands, shaking him softly. “no, no,” you begged him, “i don’t want you to cry. please don’t cry. i made a mistake, i messed it up, not you!”

the setter found himself melting at your touches, letting you pull off his hood and pull down his mask to reveal his face under the night sky. his lips wobbled, nose and cheeks reddening as tears fell from his big, brown hues.

“i deserved your hatred, ‘tsumu.” your hands were cold on his skin as you wiped his tears the second you saw them. he shook his head, “don’t say that. how could i ever hate you?”

with your fingers interlaced, both of you still in a daze, squeezing each other’s hand so tightly to realize that this was real, you took him to your place. because neither of you wanted to let go.

atsumu could cry when he saw the picture of you two from your middle school graduation in one of your cupboards on the wall next to the tv in your living room. what did make him break down was seeing that one hairpin he’d gifted you on your 13th birthday right in front of the framed picture.

“‘samu never stopped talking about you and how sad you looked at our high school graduation.” his reddened eyes didn’t leave the picture even when you stood next to him, almost as if he was too ashamed to look at you. “i’m really sorry. i truly am.”

you smiled up at him nostalgically, like you’d always do back then. he caught it from his peripheral, and it made his heart skip a beat. “we were teenagers, ‘tsumu,” you assured him while your hand traced over his broad shoulders. “things happen. i think i had to lose you to grow up and realize things.”

his body finally turned to you to face you. his hair was a softer, lighter blonde now, nearly white. it looked fluffier, too. his cheekbones were more sculpted, and you could feel the slightest stubble on his chin.

no matter how many years would pass, you’d always be in love with each and every version of atsumu.

“realize what?” his features were soft, thick eyebrows raising in question while you looked away bashfully. you’d written it in the letter. he just wanted you to say it out loud, because he was dying to hear you say it.

“atsumu, i…” you started, playing with the collar of his hoodie. he stopped breathing. “i’ve been in love with you since forever. since the very first time you shared your lunch with me.”

the cat was out of the bag. you exhaled a shaky breath, and before you could muster up the courage to look back at the now professional athlete, he beat you to it. atsumu was always bold. he took what he wanted, with no shame. he made you realize this once again when he planted his lips on you immediately after tilting your face up.

one short kiss was enough for you to ask more. now that you had him in your arms again, you wanted all of him. you had waited so long for the impossible to happen. and now that you finally had it…

“‘tsumu. kiss me again, please.”

so he did. again and again. to show you how sorry he was, to show you that he hadn’t meant any of the crap he had pulled on you years ago. he was a dumb prick, and he won’t ever forgive himself for what he’d done. he had missed out on so much with you, and he saw that one more time when you were seated on his lap in the dim living room, hovering above him needily.

you were all he ever needed. it felt like now he had you back again, a gap had been filled inside of him. one that nothing and no one was able to fill. no one could ever replace you, no emma, no girl, no one.

every kiss and touch was followed by him muttering apologies into your skin, worshipping your skin like it was holy. handling you with utmost care like you were made out of porcelain. he watched you fall apart from him just fondling you through your clothes.

“p—please, i need—” you sucked in a breath when you felt his bulge pressing through his sweatpants, prodding at your slacks. “need you, please. want to be yours.”

atsumu hummed into your neck as his strong hands carefully took off your blouse, revealing your bra-clad chest. “y’look so sexy in these clothes,” he mumbled, admiring the sight of you shakily unbuttoning your pants. “wanna see you in them every day when you go to work and when you come home.”

you whined at his lowly spoken words, letting him help you take off your pants. your clammy hands tugged at his hoodie and sweatpants that were soon gone as well, pooling at the floor.

atsumu’s body looked absolutely gorgeous. the second it was revealed to you, you traced your fingers over every ridge and cranny of his arms and upper body, sucking marks on and kissing his supple, firm skin that was still so soft.

“baby,” atsumu huffed, feeling his cock twitching at every single movement of yours. you were driving him crazy. “lemme do the rest, kay? i want tonight t’be all about you.”

nodding softly, you waited with bated breath as atsumu unclasped your bra and let it thud to the floor, joining the rest of your clothes. the way he licked his lips and groaned made you soak through your panties. moans and whimpers freely spilled from your glossy mouth once he latched his soft lips onto one of the mounds, while his hand paid attention to the other, twirling your hardened nipple between warm fingers.

“perfect tits,” he panted into your chest, looking up to meet your gaze as he licked his wet lips. “yer perfect, darlin’. everything about you is.” stammering pleas for atsumu to continue while you ran your fingers through his soft strands, you shuddered upon his unoccupied hand wandering down your stomach, until it settled at the hem of your lace panties.

“want me to go on, baby?”

his eyes were blown wide in lust and desire, fingers digging into your skin enough to leave marks. you bit your lip, whimpering through your teeth as you nodded. “yes, please, atsumu...”

atsumu knew you were wet from how you’d soaked the front of his light gray boxers, but actually feeling how aroused you were made him utter curses. it was so much, and you produced even more slick with just a single touch. how fucking adorable.

“so, so wet,” he groaned as one of his fingers slipped inside your clenching hole so easily, “fuck, so tight n’ warm. yer gonna make me cum, princess. fuck…”

he couldn’t wait to feel you around his cock. couldn’t wait to be engulfed by your warmth, to feel all of you. with big, wide eyes, he watched as you came undone on his fingers in just a minute, clutching his bare, sculpted shoulders while you creamed on his long digits. it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted more.

“‘tsumu—” your thighs were shaking, and you kissed his jaw sloppily. “wan’ me to suck you off?” you couldn’t be serious. atsumu was literally seconds from creaming in his boxers, and you offered a blowjob to him so sweetly? he had to physically keep you in place to stop your hips from moving.

“no, i wanna feel your pretty pussy ‘round my dick,” he panted, and you obediently reached your deft fingers to pull at the waistband of his boxers. despite both of you being very desperate and impatient, you still took the time to take off each other’s underwear.

it was the need to be connected without anything disrupting you, rather than to ravage each other. although you were aware that if atsumu wasn’t going to dick you down in this very moment, you were going to explode.

you saw a glimpse of atsumu’s girthy and gorgeous cock before it started disappearing inside of your awaiting cunt. his hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you still, while you mewled and sighed into his neck.

“how d’ya feel, angel?” atsumu’s voice was serene, calm, as he enjoyed the warmth he was buried inside of to the hilt. he was never going to let you go again, ever. “f—feels… so full,” you whined, raising your head from his shoulder to look into his eyes. “y’re so big, ‘tsumu. so warm. love it.”

leaning back against the back of the couch, the blonde started a sensual and slow pace, and you felt so overwhelmed that you didn’t know any better than to kiss him. moving your hips back and forth with his hands guiding you, you swallowed each other’s moans of passion and love, tongues clashing and lips molding together and becoming one.

atsumu and you were made for each other. you were made to be with him. you were each other’s destiny.

“i love you,” you started crying when the sensation started building inside of your gut, threatening to snap. “love you s’much, ‘tsumu. i love you so much.” atsumu kissed your tears away, listening to you babbling confessions and apologies as you kept clenching around him as if you wanted him inside of you forever.

“i love you too,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harder and faster snaps of his hips against your heat. the sounds of squelches and moans echoed across your apartment that had been empty and devoid of life and love for years. “will never let you go again. i’m so sorry.”

atsumu knew he was nearing his release, and his eyes frantically looked for yours, sweat clinging to his forehead and body as his hair stuck to his face. you were cross-eyed, digging your nails into his shoulders as if you wanted him even closer.

“need t’cum inside of you, angel,” atsumu hissed the more you tightened around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. “can i fill you up? please, please…”

nodding mindlessly, you wrapped your arms around atsumu’s neck, working you both towards a release. you were the first to cave in, hips stilling as you let out a high-pitched moan while waves of white came crashing down.

with a slack jaw and eyes rolled back into his skull, atsumu started releasing spurts of his warm seed into your womb, cock twitching until his balls were empty while you relished in his warmth he had shared with you.

neither of you moved, not even minutes later, feeling like you have melted into one body. the silence in the apartment finally felt peaceful instead of haunting, the second pair of eyes in it filling you with a sense of home.

atsumu’s fingers combed through your damp hair while you laid your head on his built chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. it was a matter of time till this tranquil moment was going to vanish.

“i must say, thinking about you having fought for me is really hot—” you cut him off by pinching the tender skin on his chest, which made him yelp. “ow!”

“i hate you, atsumu.”

you knew damn well you didn’t.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

[bloodstainedobsession]

*I hope I'm not asking for too much Azusa fics hehe* How's about an angst and smut fic with Azusa x chubby s/o x Kanato if that's okay with themes of a dark love triangle and obsession, hopefully not too dark

Hello! No of course not! It´s always fun writing you guys requests! Love the triangle drama, with smut and angst! Hope you´ll enjoy!

Owned by Obsession

Azusa Mukami x Chubby! Reader x Kanato Sakamaki

Smut/Angst

Tags: Azusa x reader x Kanato, chubby reader, smut, nsfw, penetration, enemies, kidnapping

Summary: You are kanato’s bride,however you have some problems in your “relationship”. Azusa kidnapps you in an attempt to save you, however, Kanato doesn’t take this lightly

Masterlist

The Sakamaki mansion always smelled faintly of roses, blood, and wax. It was a place built to preserve beautiful things in time, dolls, portraits, and you.

You were Kanato’s bride.

Not by choice, not fully. Chosen, taken, dressed like a doll and called his. He wrapped you in satin and called you perfect, but it was never love, not really. It was possession. Control. You were soft, and he loved that, but only when it didn’t mean softness of will. He liked you silent and obedient, blinking prettily while he rested his head in your lap or dug his fangs into your skin with tears in his eyes.

“Don’t look at anyone else,” he would whisper while you cried into a pillow. “If you do… I’ll break you, and make you even prettier.”

You didn’t disobey.

Not until Azusa.

⸻

It started the first night the Mukamis were invited for dinner, an arrangement Reiji pushed for, despite the tension between the families. You sat beside Kanato, like always, head slightly bowed, neck exposed just enough to show the bite he left before dinner.

Across the table, Azusa watched you.

His gaze wasn’t hungry like Laito’s. It wasn’t judgmental like Reiji’s. It was… still. Heavy. Curious.

You only dared to meet it once, but that was enough.

⸻

The roses in the Sakamaki garden looked more like grave markers than flowers.

Twilight had barely settled, casting long shadows between the carefully trimmed hedges. You knelt on the stone path with trembling hands, pretending to tend to a rose bush. It was just an excuse, Kanato had been in one of his moods again, ranting about broken teacups and a memory you couldn’t understand. His voice still rang in your ears, shrill and possessive. You needed air. Just a moment.

The sky above was gray. The thorns below were sharp.

You didn’t hear footsteps. Azusa never made much sound.

But then came the voice, low, soft, almost unsure of its right to exist.

“You’re… hurt.”

You startled, glancing up with wide eyes. Azusa stood just behind you, hands loose at his sides, head slightly tilted like he was studying a strange painting. His mismatched eyes trailed slowly over your figure, pausing at the faint bruise on your forearm, the tremble in your shoulders, the way you clutched your skirt like a shield.

“I’m fine,” you lied, voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked slowly. Moved a step closer.

“You’re lying… but that’s okay.”

“I lie, too.”

You looked at him then, really looked. He was pale, even in the dying light, and wore his pain like a second skin. Scars laced his hands and neck. His voice carried that eerie calm that made your heart ache, not from fear… but from recognition.

You stood, brushing dirt off your skirt. “You shouldn’t be out here. If Kanato sees you talking to me, he’ll—”

“Get angry?” Azusa finished, stepping close enough that you had to tilt your head to meet his eyes. “Let him. I don’t care about him… I care about you.”

Your breath caught.

No one said that. Not without strings. Not without twisted smiles or punishments waiting on the other side of affection.

“I’ve seen you,” he whispered. “When you cry at night. When he doesn’t look. I hear it… through the walls. And I… I wanted to hold you. Just once.”

Your throat tightened. “Why?”

Azusa’s fingers twitched at his sides. His gaze lowered to your hands.

“Because… you’re soft. You remind me of warmth. Of things I never got to keep.”

“You’re not like the others. You’re not cruel. Even when you’re hurting… you still try to be kind.”

Your eyes stung. You didn’t know if it was the words or the honesty behind them. Maybe both.

“Do you want to cry with me instead?” he asked again, this time quieter. “I won’t stop you. I’ll just… be there.”

You nodded before your mind caught up.

Azusa reached out, slowly, gently, and touched your hand. His thumb traced your knuckles, featherlight, as if he was afraid you’d vanish.

“You don’t have to be his anymore,” he said, voice soft but final. “Come with me… just for a little while.”

—————-

Days have passed since your encounter with Azusa.

Not only had your thoughts wandered what your life could’ve been with him, but your relationship with Kanato hadn’t gotten better either.

This night, you were carried up by Azusa himself, who took you to the Mukami mansion

You’re brought to Azusa’s room, and he finally gets to have what he’s dreamed about, you, in all your plush, beautiful softness.

The moment Azusa laid you on his bed, he hovered over you like something sacred. His breath was uneven, not from lust alone, but because he couldn’t believe he had you here, in his room, finally his.

His eyes drifted over you, starting at your face, your flushed cheeks, your parted lips. Then lower. They followed the deep curve of your thighs, the soft swell of your belly, the way your breasts rested full and perfect against your chest. Your robe clung to you, damp from the night air, molding to every round inch of you.

“You’re so…” Azusa whispered, voice trailing off, lips trembling.

“Soft. Warm. Real. I didn’t think anyone like you existed.”

He reached out slowly, reverently, like touching you might shatter the spell. His fingers slid over the curve of your waist, following the slope of your plush hip. He pressed his lips there, just above your skin, gentle and full of awe.

“Kanato doesn’t see you,” he murmured. “He doesn’t know how lucky he is to feel all this… to hold someone like you.”

His hands trailed lower, over your thighs, your belly, your sides. Gripping the thick softness like he needed it. Like he was drowning in it.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he admitted, lips brushing your stomach now. “Of your body. Your softness… wrapping around me. Keeping me warm.”

You gasped when his teeth grazed your skin, not biting hard, just teasing. Just needing a taste.

“You’re not a doll,” he said roughly. “You’re soft. And I want all of you.”

He pulled the robe away, slowly, like peeling back wrapping on a gift he’d waited too long to open. When you were bare beneath him, Azusa sat back, drinking you in. His eyes were wide, mouth parted, hands twitching like he didn’t know where to touch first.

“Your thighs,” he muttered, crawling between them. “So thick. So beautiful.”

He pressed a kiss to the inside of one, then squeezed them, his hands sinking into your flesh as he groaned low in his throat.

“I want to mark them,” he whispered. “Leave fingerprints. Bites. I want everyone to know you’re mine just from the way your thighs look.”

Then he licked.

Long, slow, filthy, his tongue dragged between your folds, and your plush thighs trembled around his head. But Azusa just gripped them harder, burying his face in your warmth with a groan like he’d waited his whole life for this.

“I could stay here forever…” he mumbled, tongue teasing your clit now, lips gliding over your soaked skin. “Soft and sweet. I’m not stopping until you beg.”

And he didn’t.

Not until your legs were quivering. Not until you were gasping his name and moaning so loud the sheets curled under your fists. Not until he made you scream, and even then, he didn’t stop kissing your thighs.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured with pride. “I love when your body moves like that for me. Because of me.”

When he finally entered you, thick and throbbing, he groaned like your cunt was the only place he was ever meant to be. His hips pressed flush against yours, your stomach brushing his with every thrust, and his hands never stopped touching.

He gripped your waist as he rocked into you. He grabbed your ass, squeezed your thighs, ran his hands up over your belly, your breasts, worshiped every inch of you like a man starved.

“You feel so good,” he gasped, fucking deeper. “You were made for me. For this. You were made to be held like this… filled like this.”

When you came again, he followed, groaning your name into your ear, holding you tight as he spilled inside you, your bodies hot and sticky and full of something dangerously close to love.

“Now you smell like me,” he whispered against your skin, kissing the swell of your belly. “And no one else will ever touch this body again.”

He stayed buried in you, arms around your soft middle, lips brushing your throat as you drifted into sleep, full, trembling, and finally, undeniably his.

Your body was heavy. Boneless. Every inch of you ached with the afterglow of Azusa’s touch, your thighs still trembling, his release still warm inside you.

But it was the way he held you afterward that undid you completely.

Azusa didn’t pull away. He didn’t move from your body like he was done with you. No, he stayed inside you, slow shallow pulses of his cock still twitching, like even his body refused to let you go.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, resting over your soft stomach like it was a sacred thing. He pressed his cheek to your chest, eyes fluttered shut, breath warm against your skin.

“You feel perfect like this,” he whispered, voice soft and sleepy. “So soft… so full.”

His fingers grazed your belly, drawing lazy circles into the skin. Then down, touching the place between your thighs where he’d spilled inside you. He dipped his fingers between your folds, gathering the mixture of your cum and his, watching it trail down your thighs.

You gasped faintly at the touch, but Azusa only smiled, slow, possessive.

“It’s dripping out of you,” he murmured. “I should push it back in… You should keep it. So your body doesn’t forget me.”

Then, as if he’d said something normal, he rose slowly from the bed and brought back a warm towel. You were still dazed, your legs parted, your breath shallow, helpless under his care.

But he didn’t treat you like you were weak. He treated you like you were his.

“You don’t have to move,” Azusa said softly, kneeling between your thighs again. “Let me take care of everything. I want to clean you… touch you. Just like this.”

He wiped you gently, too gently. The towel was warm, but it was the tenderness of his hands that made your chest ache. He cleaned between your thighs, then up over your hips, your belly. He took his time, almost worshipfully, like your soft body was a canvas only he was allowed to tend to.

And then, as he dried your skin, he kissed the stretch marks on your hips. One by one.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Every curve, every scar… every soft part. I could kiss you forever.”

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes. Maybe it was the tenderness. Maybe the contrast between the roughness of earlier and the way he now touched you like you were fragile.

He noticed the silence, and looked up at you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Should I get you anything?”

“No,” you whispered. “It… doesn’t hurt.”

“Good,” Azusa said softly, climbing into bed beside you. “Because I don’t want to hurt you. Not like him.”

You knew who he meant. The unspoken name hovered in the air like a ghost.

“Kanato doesn’t know how to touch something soft,” Azusa murmured. “But I do.”

He pulled the covers over you both, wrapping himself around you. His face buried into the crook of your neck, arms snug around your waist, legs tangled with yours.

“Stay with me,” he whispered. “Don’t go back. I’ll never let you be cold again.”

And when you finally fell asleep in his arms, warm, sore, and strangely safe, Azusa didn’t close his eyes.

He just stared at you.

Watching the way your chest rose and fell. Listening to your breaths. Holding you tighter each time you exhaled.

Because in his mind, you weren’t just his.

You were already lost to everyone else.

————-

The days blurred together after Azusa took you.

Your body still ached from the bruises left by Kanato’s outbursts, the ones he’d claim were proof of love, and your mind swam in confusion. You weren’t chained or locked up at the Mukami mansion, but the illusion of freedom was paper-thin. Azusa hovered, watching your every move with those eerily calm eyes, his expression unreadable.

“You don’t… need to be afraid,” he murmured one evening as he brought you warm tea laced with honey. His fingers brushed yours, gentle, reverent, but possessive. “You were hurting. I saw it… and I couldn’t let him keep you.”

The weight of his words sat heavy in your chest. Kanato had hurt you. He screamed when you disobeyed, clung to you like a doll he couldn’t bear to share. But you were his bride. You’d agreed to be with him. And now Azusa had stolen you away from everything you knew.

Your mind spun faster when you looked at yourself in the mirror, your soft frame wrapped in a borrowed Mukami shirt, one that clung to your curves and made you feel exposed. Azusa always stared longer than necessary, not out of judgment, but fascination. He touched you like you were made of something holy and tender, always tracing over the plushness of your thighs, your belly, your chest like you were a miracle.

“You’re… perfect this way,” he whispered once, his head resting in your lap while his fingers toyed with the hem of your borrowed shirt. “So soft… so warm. I like… how you feel.”

And in moments like that, when his voice was nothing more than a low rasp against your skin, it became harder to remember the boundaries of right and wrong. Azusa made you feel wanted without demanding. Unlike Kanato, who needed you to be his. Azusa simply needed you to be.

But still… you were stolen.

Kidnapped.

And whether it was Stockholm syndrome or survival or something deeper, you couldn’t deny how your breath hitched whenever Azusa’s lips brushed your neck. Or how your body melted into his touch when he carefully unbuttoned your top, slow and reverent, like he was undoing something precious.

One night, you didn’t stop him. You let him strip you down in the candlelight, your curves on display, your thighs parting for him like it was natural. Like it was meant.

“You’re not his anymore,” Azusa whispered into your skin as he worshipped every inch of you. “You belong with me…”

And as he moved over you, his body pressed close, his voice cracking with hunger and need, you felt something shift.

But the peace didn’t last.

Three nights later, the front door of the Mukami mansion slammed open.

“Where is she?!”

That voice.

That shrill, broken fu

The slam of the door echoed through the Mukami mansion like a gunshot.

You jolted upright in bed, the blankets slipping from your bare body as footsteps pounded down the hallway, erratic, furious, haunted. Azusa was already standing near the door, calm despite the storm brewing in the air.

Then, he appeared.

Kanato.

His purple eyes were wide, manic with rage, tear-streaked and gleaming. His fingers were clenched so tightly around his beloved Teddy, it looked like he might tear the seams apart.

“You…” he breathed, trembling. “You took her. You stole my bride—MY BRIDE!”

Azusa stood between you and the storm. “You were… hurting her,” he said flatly, his voice calm but resolute. “She didn’t belong to you… not like that.”

Kanato let out a broken, feral laugh. “You think you can decide that?! She’s mine!” His voice cracked as he stormed forward, Teddy falling to the floor with a soft thud. “She promised herself to me, I gave her everything!”

“I gave her peace…” Azusa muttered. “I didn’t make her cry… every night.”

“Shut up!!” Kanato shrieked, lunging.

The fight was brutal.

Kanato was frenzied, unpredictable, scratching and biting like a feral creature. Azusa fought back with quiet intensity, absorbing the blows, wincing, but never backing down. The sound of fists colliding, grunts of pain, and a shattered vase filled the room.

And you, helpless, watched it unfold, heart tearing down the middle.

You loved Kanato. The intensity, the passion, the way he clung to you like you were the only light in his world.

But you loved Azusa too. The gentleness. The calm. The way he touched you like you were sacred.

Blood smeared the floor. Azusa’s lip was split. Kanato had a gash across his cheek.

Both were panting, furious.

Then Azusa turned to you, gaze soft. “If you want me to stay… I’ll fight again. But if your heart still beats for him…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

You opened your mouth, but the words died in your throat. You couldn’t say itC not yet. Not without breaking the other.

Azusa swallowed, pain flickering in his eyes. “I understand…” he whispered. And just like that, he walked out, leaving behind nothing but silence and the scent of dried blood.

Kanato stood there, chest heaving, lips curled into a trembling smile. He turned to you, slowly, like a shadow stretching across the floor.

“You… stayed,” he whispered. “You chose me… didn’t you?”

Your voice barely worked. “I…”

That was enough.

He lunged forward and pulled you into him, feverish and trembling, his hands gripping your soft waist like he was afraid you’d vanish again.

“You’re mine,” Kanato murmured, kissing your neck, wet, biting kisses trailing down to your shoulder. “Mine… mine… I won’t let anyone touch you again.”

His hands roamed your plush body, groaning at the feeling of your softness under his fingers. “You’re perfect… the way you are,” he moaned, pressing you back into the bed, his eyes wild with lust and need. “I’m going to remind you who you belong to. Again and again… until you never forget.”

You shivered beneath him, unsure if the trembling in your chest was fear or excitement, or both.

Because even now, even with the blood drying on his skin, Kanato’s kisses were the only thing that made your heart race like this.

And tonight… he wouldn’t be gentle.

“You like this,” he whispered again, dragging his fingers slowly down the soft swell of your belly, watching how your skin gave beneath his touch. “You missed this… didn’t you? My hands… my voice… my love.”

He exhaled shakily, and you felt the tremble in his grip as he gripped your plush thighs, spreading them open with a near-reverent force. His eyes locked on your core, barely covered by the damp lace of your underwear. He let out a broken moan, face flushed, lips parted.

“I hate that he touched you here,” Kanato hissed, leaning in. His tongue darted out to lick over the curve of your inner thigh, then bite it, just hard enough to make you whimper. “Only I get to taste you.”

He moved slowly at first, lifting your hips and sliding your underwear off with painfully deliberate care. As he did, his breath hitched at the way your thighs jiggled, at the warmth between them. “You’re so soft… I want to drown in you.”

Kanato pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, licking and sucking every inch, leaving a trail of bruises and spit until he reached your core. His fingers spread your folds, and he groaned like he was unwrapping a forbidden gift.

“You’re already wet for me. You still want me, even after he took you. You’re mine,” he murmured, voice cracking into something manic and raw. “You were always mine.”

His mouth latched onto your clit, and you cried out, hips jerking, his tongue was greedy, sloppy, obsessed with making you squirm. His fingers gripped into the fat of your thighs, holding you still with bruising force as he sucked harder, faster, groaning against your heat.

Your hands found his hair, tangling in the curls as he worked you over like a man possessed.

“Say it,” he demanded between licks, his voice muffled and feral. “Say you’re mine. Say you love me, not him.”

“Kanato—ah—!” you moaned, your back arching as your thighs quivered under his grip.

“Say it!”

“I’m yours!” you gasped. “Yours—only yours!”

Something in him snapped, his head lifted, lips shiny with your slick, pupils blown wide. He crawled up your body, dragging his erection along your slick folds until he was pressed against your entrance.

“You’re going to take me,” he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling. “You’re going to let me ruin you. Over and over… until no one else could ever make you feel this way.”

He slid in slow at first, inch by inch, watching the way your walls stretched to take him. The way your plush body wrapped around him, it drove him wild. His mouth fell open in a silent moan as he bottomed out, his hips twitching from the feeling of your heat.

“So tight… so good,” he panted, dropping his forehead to yours. “You’re mine. Mine mine mine mine mine—”

His rhythm started slow, deep strokes that filled you to the brim, until his pace grew desperate, uncontrolled. He rutted into you like a man on the edge of madness, your thighs jiggling with every thrust, your breasts bouncing as he rocked you into the bed.

He kissed you again, hungrily, tongue claiming your mouth while his hips pounded into you like he was trying to erase every trace Azusa left.

You moaned his name, again and again, and he gripped your hand, threading your fingers together above your head, pinning you there.

“I’ll make you forget him,” he whispered, voice cracking into something soft, broken, needy. “You’ll only think of me.”

Your orgasm hit like a wave, sharp, intense, curling through you as Kanato bit your neck, groaning your name like a prayer. He followed a few thrusts later, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you, crying softly into your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Even if it hurts. Even if it’s wrong. I’ll never let you go again.”

And in the silence that followed, bodies slick with sweat, limbs tangled, you weren’t sure if you felt guilt or relief.

But for now… you were his again.