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edenesth · 1 year

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Still You

Pairing: ex-bf!Wooyoung x fem!reader (featuring Yunho)

AU: office au (exes to lovers)

Word Count: 15k

Summary: Wooyoung and you unexpectedly cross paths as colleagues in a prestigious design firm. Years after a painful breakup, you're forced to confront your unresolved feelings while working together on a crucial project. Will you rekindle your romance and build a new future together?

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Dreamscape Inc.

The most prestigious design firm in Seoul.

You've dreamed of working here for as long as you can remember.

The sleek glass doors of the office parted with a soft whoosh, welcoming you into the polished lobby of your new workplace. The buzz of corporate life swirled around you, the air filled with excitement and the scent of fresh ambition.

Moving through the sea of strangers, your heart raced with a combination of anticipation and trepidation. You were excited to begin this new journey as a graphic designer in this firm.

With each step, the memories of your high school years felt like they belonged to a different lifetime.

But as you approached the elevator, your heart clenched, and your breath caught in your throat. There, just a few feet away, was a sight that you had never expected to encounter again.

His name echoed in your mind, a name you hadn't spoken in years.

Jung Wooyoung.

Your first love and ex-boyfriend.

Time stood still as your eyes locked onto his figure, frozen in disbelief. He stood there, as if conjured from your deepest memories, with a casual elegance that hadn't faded with the years. His dark hair, still tousled in that way you remembered so well, framed a face that had haunted your dreams for six long years.

For a heartbeat, you thought it might be a trick of the light, a mirage in your mind, but it was him—undeniably him.

His gaze was intense, his eyes penetrating yours with an intensity that felt like a thousand emotions, a million words unspoken. His once-familiar features were etched with the passage of time, but they were unmistakably Wooyoung.

Your heart, which had been pounding with anticipation a moment ago, seemed to seize, and for a split second, you felt it might stop entirely. A rush of memories flooded your mind—laughter in the hallways, stolen kisses in the park, and bitter goodbyes.

The joy, the pain, the love—all of it came rushing back.

The world around you faded into a blur, and it was just him and you, standing there in that dimly lit lobby.

"Oh hey, you're early!"

As you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the spot where your ex stood just moments ago, Yunho's cheerful voice brought you back to the present. He was the friendly HR recruiter who had interviewed you prior to your acceptance of this job.

Yunho extended a friendly hand and a warm smile, which you returned, feeling grateful for the timely interruption, "Welcome to Dreamscape Inc.," He said with genuine enthusiasm, "Alrighty, let us get on with your orientation then!"

You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering traces of shock and nostalgia, "Yes, thank you, Yunho."

As you stepped into the elevator with Yunho, you couldn't help but steal a quick glance back toward the lobby, hoping against hope to catch another glimpse of Wooyoung. But he had vanished into thin air, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion.

The recruiter noticed your distracted gaze and leaned closer, his voice lowering slightly, "Is everything alright?"

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to share a fragment of the truth, "I just... saw someone I used to know. It took me by surprise," His eyes held a knowing glint, "Ah, Seoul can be a small world sometimes. You never know who you might run into."

As the elevator doors closed and the car began its ascent, you wondered about the twist of fate that had brought you face-to-face with Wooyoung again. You knew it wasn't a mere coincidence, and deep inside, a sense of anticipation mixed with apprehension churned.

During the orientation, you did your best to push any thoughts of Wooyoung out of your mind.

The day was filled with introductions to company policies, team-building exercises, and discussions about upcoming projects. You tried to immerse yourself in the whirlwind of information, reminding yourself that you were on the cusp of your dream job at your dream workplace.

The past should stay in the past, and now, you should be focusing on your present and the promising future ahead.

As the hours passed, you met your new colleagues, exchanged contact information, and began forming the foundation of your professional network. The friendly and vibrant atmosphere at Dreamscape reassured you that you had made the right choice in joining this company.

Yunho proved to be a valuable guide throughout the orientation.

He introduced you to key team members and offered valuable insights into the company's culture and values. His cheerful demeanour and genuine support helped ease your anxieties.

Amidst the introductions and team-building activities, you made a conscious effort to concentrate on the present moment. You were determined to prove yourself as a talented graphic designer and to make a name for yourself in this competitive field.

As the day came to a close and the orientation concluded, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and excitement about your new position.

You were more than ready to embark on this journey of personal and professional growth. Thoughts of Wooyoung, though still lingering in the back of your mind, were overshadowed by the opportunities and challenges that lay ahead.

The past may have resurfaced unexpectedly, but you were determined to keep it at bay, focusing on the bright future that awaited you at Dreamscape.

A week had passed since you started working here, and life within the bustling design firm had settled into a rhythm of its own.

Thankfully, there were no signs of Wooyoung anywhere.

Perhaps he had been here merely as a client representing another company, or perhaps he belonged to a completely different department or division. Whatever the case, you were relieved not to have to work with him.

The thought of navigating a professional relationship with your ex-boyfriend, with whom you hadn't parted on good terms, was a scenario you didn't even want to entertain.

Things had been progressing smoothly in your new role, and you were already forming strong bonds with your colleagues. The camaraderie and support within your team helped you adapt to the fast-paced environment.

Work had yet to become overwhelming, allowing you to dive into projects with enthusiasm and creative energy.

Your days were filled with brainstorming sessions, design reviews, and collaborative efforts that fueled your passion for graphic design. As you engaged with your coworkers, you appreciated the vibrant atmosphere at Dreamscape, where creativity thrived, and ideas flowed freely.

In the evenings, you often found yourself attending team outings or joining colleagues for dinner and drinks, building not only professional relationships but also friendships that promised to extend beyond the office walls.

Life at the firm was becoming increasingly fulfilling, and you were reminded of the aspirations you had once shared with Wooyoung during your high school years. It was a bittersweet realisation that the dreams you had held back then were now taking shape in a different context, without him.

As the days turned into weeks, you grew more confident in your abilities and more at ease in your new environment.

The past, though it had momentarily resurfaced, felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the opportunities that the present had to offer. You were on a path of professional growth, and the future was filled with promise.

With how smoothly things had been going, you were quite certain that you might never have to worry about the possibility of seeing or even having to think about your ex-boyfriend again.

Or so you thought.

As you sat enjoying your lunch break with Yunho and your colleagues, Jongho and Yeosang, in the bustling cafeteria, the excited voices of female colleagues from another department caught your attention. Their animated gushing and giggles filled the air, drawing the curiosity of your group.

With raised eyebrows, you exchanged knowing glances with your friends, wondering what could possibly have them so enthralled. Yunho, always the playful one, leaned in with a sly grin, "Well, well, well, it seems like I have some insider information." He teased, enjoying the intrigue he had sparked.

Jongho and Yeosang exchanged amused looks, their curiosity piqued, "Come on, Yunho hyung, spill the beans! What's got everyone so worked up?" The youngest prodded, feigning impatience.

The recruiter leaned in closer, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, "You know the new architect who recently joined our firm? The one who's causing quite a stir?"

Your heart skipped a beat as dread crept in.

Could this really be happening?

It was your ex's dream to become an architect, and you couldn't shake the fear that this popular architect was none other than Jung Wooyoung.

As Yunho negotiated a price with Jongho and Yeosang in exchange for the juicy intel, your mind raced with uncertainty and anxiety. The memories of your past with Wooyoung, the unresolved emotions, and the complicated history that still lingered between you both suddenly flooded your thoughts.

You tried to keep a composed facade, concealing the turmoil within.

The mere possibility that you might have to face Wooyoung again, not as a distant memory but as a colleague, sent shivers down your spine. You wondered if fate was testing you, forcing you to confront a past you had worked so hard to put behind you.

As the suspense mounted, Yunho finally leaned in to reveal the architect's name, and your heart hung in the balance, waiting for the name that could either confirm or alleviate your fears. The name hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before Yunho finally uttered it.

"It's Jung Wooyoung."

A gasp escaped your lips, though you tried desperately to stifle it. Your worst fears had been realised. The architect who had become the talk of the company, the one everyone was gushing about, was indeed your ex-boyfriend.

A flashback to eight years ago swept over you like a tidal wave, transporting you back to a time when your dreams were intertwined, and the world was full of promise.

The stars shimmered above like countless diamonds scattered across the vast canvas of the night sky. You and Wooyoung lay together on a soft, grassy field, your heads nestled on a shared pillow of dreams and ambitions.

His strong arm cradled your shoulders, and your head rested gently on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a comforting backdrop to your conversation, as if the universe itself were whispering its approval.

You spoke of your dreams, your voice filled with the unwavering determination that only youth could bring.

"I want to become a graphic designer," You said, your eyes tracing the constellations above, "I want to bring stories to life through art, to create something that moves people."

He brushed his fingers gently against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"And I," He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I want to be an architect. I want to design buildings that stand as a testament to human creativity and innovation, structures that inspire awe and admiration."

In that moment, under the canopy of stars, you shared not only your dreams but also your hearts. The world felt like an open canvas, waiting for you both to paint it with your aspirations and love. The possibilities seemed endless, and you believed that together, you could conquer anything.

But as time went by, dreams shifted and paths diverged.

The bond that had once been unbreakable was severed, and the scars of your past had taken time to heal.

Now, as you faced the prospect of working alongside the person who had once been your confidant and soulmate, you wondered if destiny was conspiring to reunite you and him.

Back in the present, Yunho noticed your reaction to the revelation about the new employee. He didn't pry or say anything to prevent Jongho and Yeosang from noticing your unease. Instead, he tactfully steered the conversation in a different direction, allowing you some space to collect your thoughts.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the lunch break as your colleagues continued to discuss Wooyoung's fame in the industry and expressed their admiration for his joining the company. It seemed that everyone was thrilled to have such a renowned architect on board.

You found it increasingly difficult to focus on their conversation, your mind a swirl of conflicting emotions.

After lunch, Yunho, understanding the need for a private conversation, walked with you towards your workspace. He looked at you with genuine concern in his eyes and finally broached the subject, "You know, I noticed your reaction during lunch, especially when we talked about Jung Wooyoung. Was he the person you mentioned seeing on your first day?"

You hesitated, feeling a mixture of gratitude for his concern and the anxiety of having to reveal your personal history with Wooyoung. Taking a deep breath, you decided to be honest, "Yes, Yunho. He's... he's my ex-boyfriend from high school."

He nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic, "I see. That must be quite a shock to run into him again after all these years."

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "It is. We didn't exactly part on good terms, and I didn't expect to see him here, of all places."

Yunho placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "I understand it might be difficult for you. If you ever need to talk or if there's anything I can do to make things easier, please don't hesitate to let me know." His genuine concern touched you, and you felt grateful for the support of a friend in this unexpected and emotionally charged situation.

In the days that followed the revelation of Wooyoung's presence in Dreamscape, you were trapped in a constant state of anxiety.

The fear of bumping into him in the hallway or, worse, having to work alongside him weighed heavily on your mind. It felt like an emotional rollercoaster, with every corner turned, you wondered if you'd run into the past you had tried so hard to leave behind.

During this challenging time, Yunho became your confidant and your pillar of support. After all, he was the only one in the company who was aware of your shared history with Wooyoung. The two of you often found solace during your breaks in the pantry, sharing coffee and conversation as a way to alleviate your worries.

On one of those breaks, you couldn't contain your distress any longer.

You sighed deeply and pressed your head into your hands, shoulders slumping with the weight of your anxiety, "What am I going to do when I eventually see him, Yunho?" You confessed, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Yunho, sitting beside you, instantly shifted to comfort mode.

He gently rubbed your back, a gesture meant to provide comfort in your moment of vulnerability, "I understand how difficult this must be for you," He said, his tone filled with empathy, "But remember, you're not alone in this. I'm here to support you, and we'll get through this together."

You looked up at him, gratitude shimmering in your eyes.

His unwavering friendship and understanding were a source of strength in the midst of your turmoil. With him by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope that you could face the looming reunion with Wooyoung, no matter how daunting it might seem.

And as if the universe had conspired to test your resolve, fate finally decided to bring your past into your present.

It was a moment you had been dreading since the day you found out he worked in the same company, and the timing couldn't have been more uncomfortable. Of course, he chose this particular moment when you and Yunho were so close to make his appearance.

The first indication of his presence came with the sudden clearing of his throat, a loud and deliberate sound that sliced through the air.

Your heart skipped a beat, dread gnawing at your insides.

Wooyoung stood there, just a few feet away, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying a mixture of emotions. It was clear that the sight of you and Yunho together hurt him more than he had expected. Even after all these years, the thought of you being with someone other than him still held the power to inflict pain.

You swallowed hard, your voice failing you in that moment of unexpected confrontation. Yunho, sensing the tension in the air, also turned to face Wooyoung, surprised.

For what felt like an eternity, no one spoke, the weight of the past and the complexity of the present hanging heavily in the air. The reunion you had both feared and secretly hoped for had arrived, but it was nothing like you had imagined.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

As Wooyoung's voice broke the silence, Yunho slowly pulled his hand away from your back, the comforting touch dissipating like a fading dream. His discomfort mirrored your own, but he was quick to step in, attempting to diffuse the palpable tension in the air.

Yunho let out a slightly nervous laugh, his eyes flickering between you and Wooyoung as he tried to avoid an awkward confrontation.

"Oh, no, not at all," He said with a light chuckle, "We were just discussing some work-related matters. By the way, have you two met?" He then introduced you to each other, acting as if he wasn't aware of your past with the architect.

You and Wooyoung exchanged a polite nod and pleasantries, both of you carefully concealing the history that lay between you. It was an unusual scenario, having to pretend that you were mere acquaintances meeting for the first time, but it seemed like the safest course of action.

Wooyoung's gaze, however, remained intense, as if he was trying to read something in your eyes, searching for a hint of recognition or acknowledgement. But you kept your expression neutral, mirroring his façade of polite professionalism.

As the conversation shifted to work-related topics, you wondered how long this charade could last and what it would mean for your relationship with Wooyoung moving forward. The past was no longer a distant memory but a living presence in your everyday life, and you had to navigate these uncharted waters with care.

For your sake, Yunho kept the conversation short, wrapping it up quickly and informing Wooyoung that you had an important meeting to rush to. It was a graceful exit strategy, and you appreciated his efforts to spare you from the awkward encounter.

With a polite nod, you and Yunho left the pantry, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as he guided you out. As you walked away, you felt Wooyoung's gaze following your every step. His eyes bore into your back, and you sensed the weight of his unspoken words, the longing that hung in the air.

Once you were out of earshot, Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, his heart clenching uncomfortably.

The desire to have a proper conversation with you, to ask how you had been for the last six years, to tell you how beautiful you still looked—it all weighed heavily on him. He missed you more than you could ever know, and he regretted the way things had ended between you two all those years ago.

As he watched you and Yunho disappear around the corner, Wooyoung wondered if fate had given him a second chance, a shot at redemption. But he also knew that healing the wounds of the past wouldn't be easy, and he would have to tread carefully to earn your trust once more.

Seven years ago, you had been on the cusp of adulthood, filled with dreams and aspirations for the future.

You and Wooyoung, once inseparable, had shared hopes of achieving those dreams together. But there was an undeniable change in him during your final year in high school, a growing distance that had puzzled and hurt you deeply.

The two of you had been so close, sharing laughter, dreams, and countless secrets. It was a bond that you had believed was unbreakable, forged through years of trust and shared experiences. But as time passed, his warmth and affection started to wane, replaced by an unsettling aloofness.

At first, you had brushed it off, thinking it was just the inevitable growing pains of young love. But the chasm between you continued to widen, bit by bit, like a silent storm on the horizon. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when it had all begun to unravel, but you knew something had changed.

It wasn't until graduation day, a day that should have been filled with celebration and joy, that the truth came crashing down.

Wooyoung had taken you aside, away from the cheering crowd and the tearful farewells of your classmates. His eyes, once so warm and full of affection, were distant and cold. The contrast was stark, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you braced yourself for what was to come.

He cleared his throat, the sound hollow in the otherwise bustling background, "Listen," He began, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar detachment, "I think we should break up."

Your heart seemed to stop, the world around you growing hazy as the weight of his words sank in, "Break up?" You repeated the words, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding your eyes, "Yeah," He replied, his tone lacking the tenderness that had once been so characteristic of him, "I think it's for the best."

A wave of confusion and pain washed over you.

This wasn't the Wooyoung you had known for years, the one who had held you close on countless nights and whispered promises of a shared future. It felt as if a stranger had replaced the person you loved.

"But why?" You managed to find your voice, your heartache now mingling with a growing sense of betrayal.

He sighed, a heavy, burdensome sound, "Look, what we had... it was just puppy love. We're young, and we'll both move on easily. Trust me, it's better this way."

The words stung like a thousand cuts, each syllable a painful reminder of the love that had once bloomed between you, now discarded as if it were nothing more than a passing fancy.

You struggled to hold back tears, your chest tight with the pain of rejection and abandonment.

He never explained why he had grown distant or why he believed it was best to part ways. You were left with a gaping wound in your heart, the questions and doubts haunting you for years to come. You had assumed that he no longer loved you, that perhaps he was just falling out of love with you and didn't know how else to break it to you.

It was a moment etched into your memory, a wound that had never fully healed, and now, as you faced the possibility of a new beginning with Wooyoung at Dreamscape, it cast a long shadow over the uncertain future that lay ahead.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, fate had a knack for throwing curveballs your way.

As you settled into your role and joined a new project team, the shock came when you realised that Wooyoung, of all people, was your project manager. The tension in the room was palpable, and the air seemed to crackle with unresolved emotions.

You did your best to act nonchalant and remain professional as you extended your hand toward him, a forced smile on your lips, "Thank you for welcoming me onto your team, Wooyoung." You said, the words carrying an undertone of politeness and nothing more.

He, too, played his part, shaking your hand and responding with a polite, "Of course, it's good to have you on board."

But beneath the veneer of professionalism, you both understood the complexities of the situation. The unspoken history between you hung in the air like a fragile secret, and you were acutely aware of the need to keep it hidden from your colleagues.

The potential controversy that could arise from your past relationship was something neither of you wanted to invite into your already complicated professional lives.

As the days passed and you and your ex-boyfriend were forced to work closely together on the project, you both made a conscious effort to push all personal feelings aside and focus solely on the task at hand. The office became a battleground of professionalism, where emotions were carefully masked and the past was buried deep.

But for Wooyoung, the facade of indifference and professionalism was a double-edged sword.

He couldn't help but wish that you would at least show some sign of emotion, whether it be unhappiness or anger. At least that would mean you acknowledged the shared history between you both. Instead, your ability to pretend as though there was absolutely nothing between you seemed to hurt him more than he would admit.

In quiet moments, when you both were reviewing project details or in meetings with colleagues, he found himself stealing glances in your direction, searching for any hint of the past in your eyes. He longed for a flicker of recognition, a sign that you remembered the love and pain you had once shared.

But your composure remained unbroken, and it drove a deeper wedge between you.

The silence between you both was deafening, filled with the words left unspoken and the emotions suppressed. It was a silent struggle, each of you grappling with the ghosts of your past and the desire for closure or resolution.

One afternoon, as the project team gathered in a meeting room to discuss the progress so far, Wooyoung was busy fighting an internal battle to keep his emotions in check. It was a challenging day with tight deadlines, and the room buzzed with the collective effort to meet them.

His attention, however, was fixated on you and Jongho.

You both worked exceptionally close together, huddled over a design, reviewing it meticulously. Jongho, known for his professionalism and respectfulness, offered his insights and ideas in a considerate manner, never overstepping boundaries.

But to Wooyoung, it felt like a dagger through his heart.

Irrational jealousy gnawed at him, and his chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of you working closely with another person, even though he knew it was purely professional. It was a jealousy born of a deep longing and a desire to be the one by your side, sharing those moments of collaboration and connection.

As he observed you and Jongho, his thoughts swirled with frustration and regret. He wished, more than anything, that you would ask him why he had chosen to break up with you all those years ago. At least then, he would finally get the chance to explain his side of the story, to offer the apology he knew you deserved.

But the walls between you both remained stubbornly intact.

The past was a fragile subject, one that neither of you dared to breach. It was a tormenting silence, filled with unspoken words and the desire for resolution, that hung heavily in the room.

Hours later, when you stepped out of the meeting room alone, heading towards the printer to retrieve a few documents, Wooyoung saw it as his chance to finally speak with you. He understood that it wasn't the most professional setting for such a conversation, but he also knew that opportunities like this were rare and precious.

Determined to seize the moment, he discreetly followed you through the quiet corners of the office, his footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. When he finally caught up to you, his presence was as sudden as a whispered secret.

You turned, and the surprise on your face was palpable as you realised you were alone with him, far away from the prying eyes of your colleagues. The awkwardness in the air was thick, a stark reminder of the emotional chasm that had grown between you over the years.

Your eyes met briefly, but you immediately looked away, unable to sustain the intensity of the gaze. The silence hung heavy, and it was a stark contrast to the joyful moments you had once shared together.

Wooyoung felt a tightening in his chest as he watched you, noticing how uncomfortable and guarded you appeared.

He missed the days when your smile would light up a room and when you would beam with joy in his presence. The realisation hit him like a wave; he had played a significant role in creating this distance between you both, and there was no one else to blame but himself.

With a deep breath, he knew he had to break the silence, to bridge the gap that had grown between you. But the words remained trapped on his lips, the weight of his unspoken apologies and regrets weighing him down.

Desperate to put some distance between you and your ex, you swiftly collected the papers from the printer, your heart pounding loudly in nervousness. Every instinct told you to walk away, to leave this uncomfortable situation behind, but fate had other plans.

As you moved to exit the area, he intentionally positioned himself in your path, blocking your way.

Your heart sank, and your mind raced with questions.

What could he possibly want from you now, after all these years? He was the one who had left you, who had chosen to end what you once shared. So, why was he suddenly resurfacing in your life?

Sighing deeply, you mustered all the politeness you could, your voice tinged with impatience, "Wooyoung, please, move aside."

But to your surprise and growing discomfort, he refused to budge.

When you attempted to push past him, he shocked you by grabbing your shoulders, his grip firm but not aggressive, making you look into his eyes. His gaze bore into yours, and the intensity of his words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Are you going to act like this forever?" He asked, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and vulnerability, "Like nothing ever happened between us?"

The anger surged within you, a tempest threatening to break free from its confines. With great effort, you fought to keep it in check, a silent reminder that you were at work.

Your jaw clenched, and you met his gaze with a steely resolve.

In a quiet but firm tone, you asked, "How dare you ask me that? Did you forget that you were the one who insisted on there being nothing between us? Don't start acting like I was the one who hurt you."

Pain was etched across Wooyoung's face as he attempted to reach for your hand, a desperate plea for understanding.

His fingers brushed the air as you pulled away, stepping back to put some physical and emotional distance between you both. The tears welling in his eyes were painful to witness, but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him. After all, he was the one who had left you wounded and wondering for years.

With a voice that trembled with regret and sorrow, he began to apologise, his words coming out in a broken tone. He wanted to seize this opportunity to finally reveal why he had grown distant and the circumstances that led to your heartbreaking breakup.

But before he could say more, fate intervened.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Yunho had been passing by and had spotted you cornered by your ex. The uncomfortable expression on your face did not go unnoticed, and Yunho contemplated for a moment before deciding to come to your rescue.

The recruiter approached with a sense of urgency, his voice carrying a tone of concern as he called out your name.

"Hey, I've been looking for you regarding that claim you submitted." He said, creating a plausible excuse related to HR matters. His presence was a welcome distraction, breaking the tense atmosphere that had enveloped you and Wooyoung.

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Yunho's timely intervention. It provided you with an excuse to disengage from the emotionally charged conversation and averted a potentially painful confrontation.

Wooyoung stood there, a mix of frustration and regret swirling within him, as he watched you follow Yunho down the hallway. He cursed himself under his breath, the bitter taste of missed opportunity gnawing at him once again. He knew he had failed to provide you with the explanation and closure you deserved.

With a heavy sigh, he retreated to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect himself. He couldn't shake the feeling of bitterness at your absence, his regret weighing him down as he replayed the missed chance over and over in his mind.

When he returned to the meeting room, he found Jongho still there, diligently working on the project. The expression on his face must have revealed his inner turmoil because the youngest looked up and asked, "Everything okay?"

Wooyoung nodded, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Yeah, just some personal matters to attend to." He replied, though he felt a pang of jealousy at how close you seemed to be growing to Yunho.

He knew he had no right to be upset about it.

After all, he was no longer your boyfriend; he was just the douchebag who had hurt you when all you wanted was to be with him.

As he returned to work, he couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled within him. The encounter with you had opened old wounds and stirred up emotions he had long tried to bury. Now, as he faced the consequences of his past actions, he wondered if there was any hope for redemption and forgiveness at all.

In the days that followed, Wooyoung tried his hardest to find opportunities to speak with you alone. The weight of the unresolved conversation gnawed at him. He knew he had a lot to answer for, and he was determined to make amends.

But it quickly became evident that you were adamant about avoiding him like the plague. You kept your interactions with him strictly professional, speaking to him only when necessary and making a hasty escape from his presence the moment your involvement was no longer required.

It was clear that you had no interest in rekindling any form of personal connection with him.

Recognising the boundaries you had set, he decided to respect your wishes. He understood that he had hurt you deeply, and he had no right to force himself back into your life. The pain of your separation had been his doing, and he couldn't change the past. So, he gave you the space you needed, even if it meant leaving you alone.

As he watched you from a distance, he felt a profound sense of regret and sorrow.

He knew he had made mistakes, and he couldn't undo the past. But perhaps, in time, he could find a way to make amends and rebuild the bridges he had burned. Until then, he would continue to silently bear the weight of his past actions, hoping for a chance at redemption.

Weeks turned into months, and the distance between you remained.

The workplace had its own rhythm, and you both settled into your roles within the company, maintaining a professional demeanour in each other's presence.

He had resigned himself to the fact that you had moved on, and he had no choice but to respect your boundaries. He watched as you thrived in your role, your talent as a graphic designer shining through in your work. It was clear that you had found your place within the company and were flourishing.

In his own way, Wooyoung tried to do the same.

He dedicated himself to his role as an architect, pouring his energy into designing innovative structures and contributing to the company's success. Despite his professional accomplishments, there was an emptiness that lingered, a sense of unfinished business that weighed on his heart.

While you both had managed to coexist in the same workplace without any overt conflicts, there were moments when your paths crossed, and the unspoken history hung heavily in the air.

Each encounter was a reminder of the past, of the love and pain you had once shared.

As time passed, you sometimes wondered if there would ever be a chance for the two of you to find closure. The thought of reopening old wounds was daunting, but you couldn't deny the curiosity about what Wooyoung might have to say after all these years.

The team-building activity at the famous creek retreat on the outskirts of the city had everyone away from the office for a couple of days. It was a chance to bond with colleagues and build better working relationships, but for you and Wooyoung, it meant being stuck in the same van during the journey to the location.

By this point, you had both grown accustomed to each other's presence and the unspoken tension between you.

Wooyoung occupied the front passenger seat, while you ended up sandwiched between Yeosang and Jongho in the middle row. The initial jokes and laughter that had filled the van gradually faded, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake.

As the rhythmic hum of the van's engine filled the air, you succumbed to weariness, your head hanging uncomfortably as you drifted into an unplanned nap.

But your ex couldn't just sit by and do nothing when he noticed your head drooping uncomfortably.

He threw a disapproving glare at Yeosang, who was still awake beside you, gesturing for him to help you find a more comfortable position. Yeosang obeyed instantly, and carefully adjusted your head, allowing you to rest more comfortably.

In a gentle and almost instinctive gesture, Wooyoung removed his own jacket and carefully draped it over your hunched figure.

It was a small act of care and warmth, a reminder of the time when he used to take care of you in more ways than one. In that moment, as you slept soundly, he allowed himself to reminisce about the past and the love that had once bound you together.

The van journey continued, the landscape outside passing by in a blur, while inside, a sense of nostalgia and longing hung in the air, and for Wooyoung, a quiet longing to care for you, even if it was only in these fleeting moments when you were unaware.

Excitement bubbled within you as the van finally arrived at the retreat, and the sight of Yunho waiting for everyone only heightened your anticipation. You rushed up to him with giddy enthusiasm, your energy infectious as you exchanged a high-five with the tall recruiter.

Yunho, always the gentleman, made a move to grab your luggage from the trunk, his intention to help you take it to your room clear in his actions. He smiled warmly, ready to assist you in any way he could. But just as his hand was about to reach your luggage, something unexpected happened.

Wooyoung, who had been observing from a distance, suddenly stepped in and swiftly grabbed your luggage, his actions asserting his presence with a possessive undertone.

You froze, a mix of surprise and discomfort washing over you as you realised what was happening.

It was evident that your ex's possessiveness was beginning to surface, and he muttered under his breath, "I'll do it. She's in my team after all; I should be the one to take care of her."

The unexpected tension between Wooyoung and Yunho escalated as both men refused to back down. You had thought Yunho would step aside amicably, given his typically easygoing nature. But he surprised everyone by firmly gripping the luggage, refusing to let it go.

"No, it's fine," Yunho asserted with a determined look, "I am the one who recruited her, after all. By right, I should be the one taking care of her better than anyone."

The atmosphere grew increasingly charged as the two men seemed locked in a silent standoff, each wanting to assert their claim over the situation and their desire to take care of you.

Sensing the tension, Jongho and Yeosang quickly stepped forward to diffuse the situation.

Jongho, with a playful grin, stepped between Wooyoung and Yunho, pushing them apart gently. He then grabbed your luggage with a confident air, "Oh, step aside, you two. I should be the one to handle the heavy lifting. After all, I'm the youngest and strongest here."

With that, the tension in the air began to dissipate, and you chuckled at the unexpected turn of events.

It seemed that your colleagues had a knack for turning potentially awkward situations into light-hearted moments, reminding everyone that this team-building retreat was meant for bonding and camaraderie.

Wooyoung, realising the embarrassment of his own actions at that moment, decided to feign nonchalance, offering a brief, somewhat awkward smile before he hurried off to settle down in his own room. It was clear that the situation had caught him off guard, and he needed some time to collect his thoughts.

Yunho, on the other hand, walked you to your room.

The earlier tension now replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere.

As you both made your way, you couldn't help but ask Yunho why he had fought back against Wooyoung's attempt to help you with your luggage. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words, and there was a moment of silence before he finally replied.

"I just... wanted to protect you from him."

He admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. It was a straightforward response, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

You assured him that Wooyoung would never do anything to hurt you, your words meant to put his concerns to rest. But instead of feeling reassured, Yunho felt slightly bitter. It was as if your defence of your ex-boyfriend had struck a chord with him.

Unbeknownst to Yunho, his feelings for you might have been a little more than platonic.

The protective instinct he had shown earlier had surprised even him, leaving him to grapple with emotions he hadn't fully understood or acknowledged. As he stood with you outside your room, a sense of inner turmoil lingered, and the retreat had already taken an unexpected turn for him, one that would leave him questioning his own feelings in the days to come.

The day at the retreat continued with a series of team-building activities and games designed to strengthen your teamwork and bond with your colleagues.

Unfortunately, you found yourself paired with Wooyoung for most of the day, given that you were in the same team. But it was through these games that you began to let your guard down around him, even if it's only just a bit.

As the two of you were selected to represent your team in a treasure hunt, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The task ahead required you both to focus solely on the challenge at hand, putting aside any personal history or unresolved feelings.

With a shared goal in mind, you and Wooyoung worked together closely, determined to solve the puzzles and riddles that would lead you closer to the treasure. There was a surprising ease to your interaction and a sense of teamwork that transcended the complicated past you shared.

As you ventured through the retreat grounds, following clues with him, you realised that, for the first time in a long while, you were able to enjoy each other's company without the weight of your history hanging over you. The laughter and excitement that accompanied each discovery allowed you to momentarily forget the tension that had defined your interactions at work.

The treasure hunt had eventually taken you along a winding trail through the retreat's serene surroundings, and as you both took a well-deserved break on one of the wooden benches along the path, a sense of ease settled over you both.

He flashed a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with a hint of the playful banter you had once shared.

"You know," He said with mock seriousness, "I thought a decade apart might have improved your riddle-solving abilities, but I guess some things never change."

You scoffed at his comment, leaning back on the wooden bench.

"Oh please," You retorted, a twinkle in your eye, "You should talk, Mr. Impatient. You've always been so quick to jump to conclusions. Remember that time we got stuck in that escape room and you nearly dismantled the whole place trying to find the way out?"

Wooyoung's laughter rang out, and he shook his head, clearly recalling the memory.

"Okay, fair point," He conceded, his expression softening as he allowed himself to reminisce about the past, "But in my defence, I was just trying to impress you with my problem-solving skills."

As your laughter filled the air, he stared at you as if you were the most captivating sight he had ever seen. At that moment, the realisation hit him like a lightning bolt: he missed you like crazy, and he regretted walking away from you all those years ago.

The years apart had allowed Wooyoung to mature and reflect on his actions, and he now understood the depth of his feelings for you.

As he watched you laugh and joke with him, he wondered if there was a chance to make amends, to rebuild what had been lost, and to finally give voice to the apologies and explanations he owed you.

Your ex contemplated using the moment of levity to broach a more serious conversation, to finally address the unresolved issues from your past. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to say those words that had been lingering on his mind for so long, "Listen, I—"

But before he could utter another word, his attempt was abruptly interrupted by the unexpected presence of Yunho.

The recruiter had a knack for appearing at just the wrong times, and this instance was no exception. The recruiter approached you both, his expression was carefully neutral, though an undercurrent of unease flickered in his eyes as he observed the two of you conversing like old friends.

With a teasing grin, Yunho playfully chided, "Excuse me, are you actually slacking off right now?" You immediately sprang to your own defence, "As if! We were just taking a short break!"

The banter between you two becoming second nature.

But Wooyoung's reaction to your interaction with Yunho was far from casual. He couldn't hide his irritation, and his patience had run thin.

In a bold move, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, a possessive gesture that sent a clear message, "Thank you for your concern, but we have a journey to continue on." With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulled you away from the taller male.

As he led you down the path, his grip on your wrist gradually loosened, and he found himself grappling with the tension that had resurfaced in the wake of Yunho's interruption.

It seemed that the conversation he had hoped to have with you would have to wait for another time, and the retreat had once again taken an unexpected turn, leaving all three of you with unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

Walking alongside Wooyoung, you were aware of the tension between him and Yunho that had been growing throughout the day, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

It felt like their constant battles were, in some way, a result of your presence and the unresolved emotions between you and your ex. You wished you could find a way to alleviate the tension and make things easier for everyone involved.

At the same time, you couldn't deny the unexpected warmth that had enveloped you since rekindling your friendship with Wooyoung.

The day had reminded you of how much you missed his goofy personality and his ability to make you laugh. It was a feeling you hadn't fully realised until now, and you wondered how different things might have been if only you had remained friends all these years.

As evening fell and the group gathered for dinner, the atmosphere had mellowed, and you all enjoyed hotpot together.

Wooyoung made it a point to sit beside you, and as he cooked, he paid special attention to preparing your favourite food just the way you liked them. It was a gesture that felt oddly familiar, and for a moment, it transported you back in time. You smiled as you watched him, reminded of how he used to take charge of your meals because he was the better cook between the two of you.

At this moment, with the delicious aroma of the hotpot filling the air and his playful banter accompanying it, it felt as though you were back in those simpler times, a time when your bond was unburdened by the weight of the past.

As the complex dynamics between you, Wooyoung, and Yunho continued to unfold, it became apparent to the rest of your colleagues that something unusual was happening.

Yeosang had taken the opportunity to fill Jongho in on the events that transpired during the car ride to the retreat, explaining how Wooyoung had taken special care of you when you were asleep and how he had displayed a level of familiarity with you that was hard to ignore.

Jongho nodded thoughtfully as he absorbed this information.

"I always thought there was something different about the way Wooyoung hyung looked at her," He remarked, his brow furrowing slightly, "It's almost like they knew each other before coming to work here. And I'm pretty sure Yunho hyung knows something we don't."

Your colleagues might not have the full story, but they were observant enough to sense that there was more to the interactions between the three of you than met the eye.

As the days at the retreat unfolded, Yunho observed the interactions between you and Wooyoung with a quiet demeanour.

He fought hard to maintain a neutral expression, not wanting to reveal any signs of his inner turmoil. Despite his efforts, he couldn't deceive Jongho and Yeosang, who were growing increasingly perceptive to the underlying tension.

The two exchanged knowing glances whenever they noticed Yunho observing the two of you closely. They had their own suspicions about the complicated dynamics at play but chose to remain silent, not wanting to intrude on a situation that seemed to be filled with unspoken emotions and unresolved history.

On one of the restless nights during the retreat, you found yourself tossing and turning in your room, unable to find the peace needed to fall asleep. Frustration mounting, you made the impulsive decision to take a quiet walk around the safe surroundings of the retreat.

The night was serene, and the cool breeze provided a momentary respite from the turmoil of your thoughts.

As you wandered through the moonlit paths, you stumbled upon Wooyoung, sitting alone on one of the benches, gazing up at the vast night sky. His silhouette seemed so familiar yet distant, and you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to disturb his solitude.

Just as you turned to leave, he softly called out to you, "Stay with me." His voice carried a pleading whisper. Unable to resist the pull, you retraced your steps and settled down beside him.

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt him lean his head gently on your shoulder. In the silence of the night, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the faint chirping of crickets. You could sense the tension and emotions swirling around the two of you.

Breaking the silence, he asked the simple question that had been on his mind, his voice barely above a whisper, "Why are you here?"

You sighed softly, your gaze fixed on the starry sky, "I couldn't sleep," You admitted, your voice equally hushed. He nodded, "Yeah, I'm here for the same reason," You furrowed your brows at the revelation, "Why can't you sleep? You've never been one to suffer from insomnia."

A moment passed before he finally confessed, "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Your heart raced as Wooyoung moved to take your hands in his, gently turning you to face him. The vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable, and it was clear that he had been waiting for this moment, a moment free from interruptions or distractions.

The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, and you knew that this was the time to finally have that conversation.

He began by addressing the question that had haunted you both for years, "I want to talk about why I grew distant and why I eventually broke up with you back then."

You nodded, your eyes locked onto his, urging him to continue.

He took a deep breath before delving into his past, a past filled with insecurities and misguided advice.

"I spoke to my brother about my dreams, about wanting to become an architect," He explained, his voice tinged with regret, "At the time, my brother was heartbroken from his own breakup, and he... he told me that love would only hold me back from reaching my full potential."

His confession hit you like a wave of emotions.

It was the answer you had longed for, the missing piece of the puzzle that had haunted your memories for years. You listened intently as he continued, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession.

"He told me that if I wanted to be successful in the future, I would have to... to get rid of you."

The revelation was bittersweet.

It was painful to hear that his decision to distance himself from you had been influenced by such misguided advice, but it also provided a semblance of closure, a glimpse into the reasons behind his actions all those years ago.

As you absorbed his words, you felt a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, and, surprisingly, a glimmer of understanding.

Wooyoung's voice was filled with genuine remorse as he continued, "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for everything, for believing my brother's words and letting them dictate my actions. I was such a fool."

You listened intently, your own emotions swirling as he spoke.

"Wooyoung, it was so hard for me too," You admitted softly, "I couldn't understand why you were pulling away, why you seemed so distant. It felt like you were slipping through my fingers."

He lowered his head, his voice trembling as he continued, "I know, and I regret it more than anything. I never wanted to hurt you, but I thought it was the right thing to do at the time."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to gently touch his cheek, "We were both so young and confused," You whispered, "And we made mistakes. But it's in the past now."

He nodded, his gaze meeting yours once more, "It's taken me so long to realise how wrong I was," He admitted, his voice heavy with regret, "I should have fought for us, not pushed you away."

You gave him a small, understanding smile, "Sometimes we have to go through pain and regrets to truly appreciate what we had. I've learned from it too."

As the night breeze rustled the leaves around you, he took a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours, "Thank you for listening, for giving me a chance to explain," With a heartfelt sigh, you replied, "And thank you for being honest with me. It means a lot."

The weight of the past began to lift, replaced by a sense of understanding and a glimmer of hope for the future.

In that quiet moment beneath the starlit sky, you both realised that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance to heal old wounds and build something new together.

After the retreat, life at work settled into a new rhythm.

The weight of the past that had lingered between you and Wooyoung had finally been lifted, and you found yourselves getting along better than ever. The resolution of your past issues created a sense of understanding between you, allowing you both to focus on the present and the potential for a future together.

But Wooyoung knew that winning you back wasn't going to be easy, even with your forgiveness.

He understood that the presence of Yunho, who had inserted himself into your life in various ways, posed a strong competition. Observing Yunho's efforts to be close to you, your ex realised that he needed to step up his game if he didn't want to lose you to his rival.

Wooyoung was determined to show you that he had changed, that he was ready to make amends for the past and fight for a second chance at love. He knew it wouldn't be a simple task, but he was willing to put in the effort, knowing that you were worth every ounce of it.

As the days went by, he subtly began to make his presence felt in your life once more, finding opportunities to spend time with you and rekindle the connection that had once been so strong. He was committed to proving to you that he was ready to be the partner you deserved, hoping that you would see the changes in him and consider giving your relationship another chance.

The weeks leading up to the project deadline had turned into a gruelling and relentless cycle for you and your team. The pressure was relentless, and you had all been caught in a never-ending loop of work, eat, and sleep—or lack thereof.

As a perfectionist, you held yourself to incredibly high standards. You constantly pushed the boundaries of your abilities, striving for perfection in every detail of your work.

This relentless pursuit of excellence had taken a toll on your well-being, particularly your sleep. Your colleagues might have been unaware of the extent of your exhaustion, but you were all too aware of the sacrifices you were making.

One afternoon, during the usual lunch break, the office was quiet and empty as everyone else headed to the cafeteria to grab a meal and a moment of respite.

But you were too exhausted to join them.

Instead, you found yourself unable to stay awake at your desk. The fatigue was overwhelming, and your body finally gave in to the exhaustion that had been building for weeks.

Your head gently slumped onto your folded arms, and your eyes closed as you succumbed to sleep. The hum of the office's air conditioning and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall provided a soothing background to your unintended nap.

Meanwhile, Yunho thought it was unusual not to see you at the cafeteria, especially during these high-pressure days leading up to the project deadline. Concern crept into his mind as he realised that he hadn't seen you taking a break or grabbing a bite to eat like everyone else.

Furrowing his brows, he decided to check around the office, his worry growing as he found no trace of you at your usual spots. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something might be wrong. Maybe you were feeling unwell, or perhaps the stress had finally taken its toll on you.

As he made his way through the quiet office, his steps grew lighter, and his anxiety turned into relief when he finally spotted you.

Yunho's heart swelled with affection and concern as he gazed down at you, fast asleep at your desk. He found you incredibly adorable, even in the midst of exhaustion. However, that adoration was mixed with a deep sense of worry as he realised just how overworked you must be to skip meals and resort to catching sleep at the office.

Kneeling beside you, he couldn't resist the urge to gently push a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek. He wished he could take away the burden of stress that seemed to weigh you down.

But as he hovered over you, lost in his thoughts, he was abruptly pulled from his reverie when Wooyoung's voice cut through the silence of the office.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Yunho quickly stood up, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate moment. He cleared his throat, struggling to find an explanation, "I... I was just checking on her. She looked really tired, and I wanted to make sure she was okay."

Wooyoung's expression remained guarded, his eyes fixed on Yunho as if he were assessing his intentions. It was clear that the rivalry between them had not dissipated, and the taller male's actions had not gone unnoticed.

Yunho felt a pang of guilt and self-doubt, wondering whether his concern for you was genuine or if it was fueled by something more complicated. He stepped back, allowing Wooyoung to take the lead, unsure of how to navigate the complex web of emotions that seemed to entangle the three of you.

Flustered, Yunho made a hasty exit from the scene.

He needed a moment to collect himself, to sort through the whirlwind of feelings that had been stirred by the sight of you asleep at your desk. It was undeniable that his concern for you went beyond the boundaries of a typical colleague's care.

As Yunho retreated, Wooyoung took a few steps closer to your desk, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep. The stress and exhaustion that had etched lines of weariness on your face tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to make sure you were comfortable and at ease.

With a tender touch, Wooyoung reached for a container, your favourite meal inside, that he had prepared earlier in the morning. He placed it gently by the side of your desk, ensuring you had something delicious to eat once you woke up.

Then, he unfastened his blazer and carefully draped it over your hunched figure before pressing a small kiss onto your temple. His actions were driven by a desire to keep you warm and snug, to shield you from the chilly air of the office. Watching you sleep so peacefully, he smiled softly.

Beneath that smile lurked a sense of jealousy within him.

Seeing Yunho's concern for you triggered a surge of possessiveness and insecurity that he found hard to ignore. He knew he needed to address these emotions, but for now, his priority was making sure you were taken care of, even if it meant he had to battle his inner demons silently.

After lunch, Yeosang's gentle touch and voice roused you from your slumber, bringing you back to the bustling reality of the office.

As your eyes fluttered open, you immediately noticed Wooyoung's blazer draped over you, providing warmth and comfort. It was a gesture that touched your heart deeply, and a small, contented smile tugged at your lips.

Your gaze shifted to the container of food on your desk, and recognition washed over you. It was unmistakably Wooyoung's signature meal, one he had always lovingly prepared for you during your high school days. The rush of nostalgia and fond memories that accompanied the sight of the familiar dish made your heart flutter.

It was as if he had reached through time to the days when you were a giddy high school girl in love.

But it wasn't just the meal that stirred your emotions.

As you turned your attention to the meeting room, your heart skipped a beat when you locked eyes with your ex-boyfriend.

He looked incredibly handsome, his features refined by the years that had passed since high school. The sight of him reignited a spark of attraction and reminded you of why you had fallen so deeply in love with him all those years ago.

In that moment, the boundaries that had kept your emotions in check began to blur. You couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for something beautiful to blossom between you and Wooyoung once again.

The day of the final presentation had finally arrived.

It was a crucial moment for your project, and the team had gathered early at the office to prepare for the important meeting with key stakeholders. The atmosphere was tense as everyone fine-tuned their speeches and went over the final details. However, you noticed that Wooyoung was conspicuously absent.

Concern gnawed at you, as this was unlike him.

He was usually punctual and responsible, and even if he were running late, he would have sent a message to keep the team informed. But this time, there was no word from him, and none of your colleagues had heard from him either.

As the minutes ticked by, your worry deepened.

You tried calling him repeatedly, only to be met with his voicemail each time. It was as though he had vanished, and the lack of communication sent a shiver of anxiety down your spine.

Your colleagues attempted to reassure you, telling you that he would likely show up soon and that there was probably a reasonable explanation for his absence. Still, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was amiss, and your heart sank with every unanswered call.

The postponement of the meeting due to Wooyoung's absence only added to your growing anxiety.

His presence was vital as the project manager, and the fact that he hadn't shown up without any explanation left you deeply worried and on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Unable to contain your concern any longer, you rushed to Yunho, desperately seeking any information that could help you reach Wooyoung. You needed to find him, to ensure he was safe and to understand why he had disappeared on such an important day.

The recruiter tried to calm you as he quickly accessed the company database to search for your ex's personal details. It was a race against time to locate him, and you clung to the hope that you could reach him soon.

Once Yunho found his home address, you wasted no time.

You packed your belongings in a rush, informing your concerned colleagues that you were going to check on him.

Yunho, worried for your safety given your fragile emotional state, volunteered to accompany you. You agreed, grateful for his support as you went on your mission to find Wooyoung.

The tension in the car was palpable as you and Yunho raced towards Wooyoung's house, your hearts heavy with worry and fear for his safety. But what you encountered on the way was something you never could have anticipated.

As your car approached an accident site at the side of the road, your heart seemed to stop when you recognised the mangled remains of an oddly familiar car.

No... no, it can't be.

Panic surged through you, and you screamed at Yunho to stop the car immediately. He slammed on the brakes, and without a second thought, you flung the car door open and sprinted towards the accident scene.

The crash site was chaos personified, with flashing red and blue lights illuminating the area.

As you approached, your heart pounded in your chest like a drum, and the weight of impending dread pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, blurring your vision, as you attempted to rush past the stern-faced authorities who had already cordoned off the area. Their expressions were unyielding, their voices firm as they insisted on maintaining control of the situation.

"Please, let me through! That's my... my friend's car!"

You cried, your voice cracking with anguish, desperate to get closer to Wooyoung. The police officers held their ground, their solemn expressions a stark contrast to your frantic demeanour.

Your desperation reached a fever pitch as you continued to shout his name, your voice carrying your love, fear, and regret, "Wooyoung! Wooyoung, please be okay! God, I... I love you, okay?!" The words tumbled from your lips, heavy with raw emotion and filled with the agony of knowing you might lose him forever.

But the authorities were unyielding, firmly keeping you at bay, their unspoken message clear: they were doing their best to handle the situation, and your presence was only complicating matters further.

The seconds felt like hours as you stood there, helpless and terrified, hoping against hope that Wooyoung would somehow be okay.

In that moment of heart-wrenching despair, Yunho quickly gathered you into his arms, holding you tightly as your legs gave way beneath you. You clung to him, your sobs wracking your body as you repeated the painful words like a mantra, "I've lost him... I've lost him again..."

Yunho held you close, his own heart heavy with the knowledge that, despite his feelings, in the end, it would always be Wooyoung who occupied the most significant place in your heart. He silently accepted this truth, providing you with a comforting presence as you grieved the possibility of losing someone you still deeply loved.

An authority figure eventually approached you two, asking if you knew the victim.

When you confirmed that you were friends with the victim, a sense of relief washed over her face. She quickly informed you that Wooyoung was in the ambulance receiving immediate medical care, and you clung to that sliver of hope like a drowning person clutching a lifebuoy.

With Yunho's support, they guided you towards the ambulance.

Your heart continued to race with anxiety, a relentless drumbeat of fear echoing in your chest. The relief of knowing he was alive was shadowed by the uncertainty of how badly he might be hurt.

Tears streamed down your face the moment you laid eyes on Wooyoung in the back of the ambulance.

The sight of him, battered and bruised, was almost too much to bear. His face bore a couple of bruises, and you reached out to gently touch his hand, relieved that he was conscious and responsive.

The doctor provided some reassurance, explaining that he had sustained a few broken bones and injuries, but overall, he was in stable condition. But they still needed to transport him to the hospital for a more thorough examination to rule out any internal injuries or bleeding.

Your heart remained heavy, but a glimmer of hope flickered within you as you knew he had made it through the worst part.

As the ambulance set off for the hospital with Wooyoung inside, Yunho quickly contacted someone from work to update everyone about the accident. You sat in the back of the ambulance, clutching Wooyoung's hand tightly, unwilling to let go.

The realisation hit you like a wave – your feelings for him had never truly faded; they had only been buried beneath the surface.

Now, more than ever, you were determined to stay by his side, to support him through his recovery, and to make up for the lost time. The events of the day had rekindled your love for him, stronger than ever before, and you couldn't imagine ever letting him go again.

"Do you know how scared I was, Jung Wooyoung? Don't you dare do that to me again, you hear me?" You whispered in a broken voice.

Despite the pain he must have been in, he smiled and nodded. His hand in yours was a reassuring anchor in the midst of this chaotic situation as he tightened his grip, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. This morning, as I was rushing to work, I hadn't been alert enough to realise a reckless driver was approaching from the side, he ignored the red light and ran straight into my car."

As he explained the accident, your worry for him only intensified, but he managed to inject a bit of humour into the conversation, teasing you about your emotional outburst. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you smiled back at him.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's about time I said it out loud," You replied, your voice filled with sincerity, "I do love you, Wooyoung. I never stopped, even when I thought I had. It's still you that I want, it will always be you. And I... I don't ever want to lose you again."

"You won't have to. I'm not going anywhere this time, I promise." His eyes locked onto yours, and the two of you shared a moment of understanding, the unspoken feelings finally out in the open.

Wooyoung's heart swelled with joy, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. For years, he had carried the weight of regret and longing for you, unsure if he would ever hear those three words from your lips again.

Now, as he looked into your eyes and heard you say that you loved him, it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest.

A radiant smile spread across his bruised face, and his eyes sparkled with happiness. It was a smile that spoke of relief, of hope, and of a love that had endured despite the years of separation and heartache. In that moment, he knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was willing to face them, because he had the love of his life by his side once again.

The final meeting for the project was a bittersweet moment.

Wooyoung, with his cast on his arm, sat next to you, and the shareholders expressed their relief and sympathy for what had happened to him. The mood in the room was one of gratitude that he had come out of the accident relatively unscathed.

You couldn't help but steal glances at him throughout the meeting, your heart filled with love and concern for his well-being.

As the presentation concluded successfully, you exchanged a subtle, reassuring smile with your boyfriend. It was a silent acknowledgement of the challenges you had overcome together, not just in the project but in your personal lives as well.

The future felt uncertain, but you both knew one thing for sure: you were determined to face it together, hand in hand, and this time, nothing would tear you apart.

The dinner celebration later that night was filled with laughter.

Your colleagues chatted and celebrated the successful completion of the project, unaware of the quiet exchange happening beneath the table. Wooyoung's caring looks and subtle touches spoke volumes, and he couldn't resist the urge to hold your hand, even as you shot him a warning look with wide eyes.

You both knew the importance of keeping your rekindled relationship discreet at work, fearing any potential conflicts of interest. But, at that moment, as your fingers intertwined under the table, you smiled at each other, knowing that your love had found its way back, and this time, it would be even stronger.

Yunho, ever the understanding friend, had come to terms with the reality of your relationship with Wooyoung. He genuinely wished the best for you, even if it meant he had to let go of any romantic hopes he might have had.

He knew that in your eyes, he had always been a close friend and colleague. Nothing more, nothing less.

One afternoon in the office pantry, the recruiter smiled to himself as he discreetly observed the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the pantry, thinking no one else was around. Wooyoung held your hand, and in a daring move, he stole a quick, playful kiss, prompting you to smack his arm in a half-hearted warning.

It was a glimpse of the love and happiness that had found its way back into both of your lives, and Yunho was content knowing that you were where you truly belonged.

A few months passed since Wooyoung's cast had been removed and he had fully recovered, you both found yourselves in a comfortable and loving routine. Although you travelled to work together, you would part ways to enter your respective offices, with your boyfriend taking every opportunity to sneak a kiss onto your face before playfully running away, dodging your affectionate smacks.

The sun streamed through the car windows as you both drove to work together, the atmosphere light and easy. As you approached the office building, he glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know, babe," He began, his voice warm and teasing, "I've been thinking. We've been keeping our relationship under wraps at work for a while now. And, well, I was wondering if maybe it's time we let everyone know."

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise, "Are you serious, Woo?"

He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, I mean, we're in different departments anyway. It's not like we're working closely together every day. Plus, I think it's about time our colleagues knew how lucky I am to have you."

You smiled at his words, your heart warming.

"I agree," You replied, reaching over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "I think it's a great idea. Let's do it."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with happiness, "That's my girl. I can't wait to show everyone how amazing you are."

On that memorable morning, the meeting room was filled with an air of curiosity as Wooyoung called your closest colleagues together. You stood nervously at his side, your fingers intertwined with his, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The glances and smiles exchanged between your colleagues only added to your jitters.

With a deep breath, your boyfriend finally spoke up, his voice laced with affection as he raised your intertwined hands, "We thought you guys deserved to know, we're together."

Instead of the expected gasps or exclamations of surprise, mischievous grins and playful amusement greeted his announcement. Yeosang, always quick with a witty remark, responded first, "Okay, and?"

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you glanced around the room, wondering why everyone seemed so unfazed.

Jongho chimed in with a smirk, teasing Wooyoung mercilessly, "Yeah, we know. Literally everyone knows you two are together. You haven't exactly been subtle at all, you know, especially you, Wooyoung hyung."

Your boyfriend's laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but join in, your cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. You exchanged a sheepish look with him, realising that your relationship had been far less discreet than you thought.

Yeosang playfully rolled his eyes, "Seriously, guys, we've known for ages. You don't have to announce it like it's breaking news."

Jongho continued teasing, "Yeah, and Wooyoung hyung, you've been practically broadcasting it with that lovestruck look on your face every time you're around her."

Wooyoung's grin widened as he glanced at you, affection clear in his eyes, "Well, I can't help it. She's pretty amazing."

Everyone groaned loudly at that, all prepared to witness more public displays of affection at work now that you were both openly together. Pulling you close to him, your boyfriend knew there was one more thing you both needed to do.

With the decision to revisit your hometown and properly introduce each other to your families, the two of you planned a weekend trip back to Ilsan. It was a significant step in your relationship, a journey that held the promise of deeper commitment.

As you packed your bags and prepared for the trip, there was a sense of excitement and anticipation in the air.

This symbolised a beautiful chapter in your relationship, one where you would bridge the gap between your pasts and your future, and where the bonds between you and your families would grow stronger, just as your love had.

As the car journeyed back to Ilsan, the town where your shared childhood memories were embedded, a sense of nostalgia washed over both of you. You gazed out the window, watching familiar landmarks pass by like scenes from an old movie. Wooyoung took notice of the emotions welling up in your eyes as you relived those cherished moments from your past.

Unable to resist, he gently reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your eyes met his, and he felt a profound connection to you, one that spanned years and countless memories. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss onto the back of your knuckles, his way of silently acknowledging the shared history you both carried.

The journey back to your hometown was a trip down memory lane, a testament to the enduring love you held for each other and the promise of a bright future together.

Visiting Wooyoung's family was a heartwarming experience.

His parents welcomed you with open arms, their smiles radiating warmth and genuine happiness. They had always liked you, even during your younger years, and seeing you back together with their son filled their hearts with joy. They believed that you and Wooyoung made a sweet and perfect couple.

His brother, however, carried a heavy burden of guilt.

He took the two of you aside, his voice filled with remorse as he offered a sincere apology for his role in breaking you apart all those years ago. As you and Wooyoung exchanged a knowing look, you both forgave him wholeheartedly.

You understood that sometimes, people make mistakes, and those mistakes can lead to valuable lessons for everyone involved.

It was a moment of closure and healing for all of you.

Wooyoung's visit to your parents' house, however, was accompanied by a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

He knew he had deeply hurt you in the past, and the possibility of your parents' disapproval loomed large in his mind. He was prepared to work tirelessly to earn their trust back.

Much to his surprise and relief, your parents welcomed him with open arms. It was a gesture of acceptance he hadn't expected so readily. As he sat down with them, he couldn't help but express his gratitude and curiosity.

"I'm truly grateful for your acceptance," He began, his voice filled with sincerity, "But I have to admit, after everything I put your daughter through, I didn't expect this. Why are you so willing to accept me back into her life?"

Your mother sent him a warm and understanding smile.

"It's clear to us how happy she is with you, Wooyoung-ah. That happiness means the world to us as her parents. Besides, we believe that people can change and grow. We all make mistakes when we're young and foolish, but it's the choices we make now that define us. You have a chance to redeem yourself, and as long as you make our daughter happy and treat her well, that's what truly matters to us."

He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, knowing that he was given a second chance not only with you but also with your supportive and forgiving parents.

It was a moment of redemption and hope for a brighter future together.

After years of deliberately avoiding the annual school reunions to spare yourselves the potential heartache of seeing each other again, this year was different.

You both had finally agreed that it was time to attend the gathering, now that you had found your way back into each other's lives.

In previous years, you had both stayed away from the event, each for your own reasons. It was simply too painful to confront the memories of your past, the love that had once blossomed, and the heartbreak that had followed. But now, after rekindling your relationship, you feel ready to face those memories together.

The decision to attend the reunion was a significant step, one that reflected your newfound confidence in your love and your willingness to embrace your shared history. It was a declaration to yourselves and to everyone who knew you that your bond had not only endured but had also grown stronger over time.

As you both made your way to the reunion, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nostalgia.

It was a chance to reconnect with old friends, relive cherished memories, and show the world that sometimes, love could find its way back, even when all hope seemed lost.

Walking hand in hand into the school reunion together was a statement that no one expected. Your presence together was a surprise to all your old classmates. While you and Wooyoung had been a couple for most of your school years, everyone knew about your painful breakup on graduation day.

The sight of you two together again caught everyone off guard.

Whispers and surprised glances followed you both as you entered the venue. Old friends and classmates couldn't help but comment on how you had reunited, expressing their astonishment at seeing you as a couple once more.

You navigated through the crowd, greeting old friends and engaging in conversations. All the while, there was an undeniable aura of curiosity and intrigue surrounding your relationship.

As the two of you mingled around, you couldn't escape the teasing and playful jabs that came your way. Some of your friends had been firmly on your side during the painful breakup years ago, and now, they couldn't resist taking a few indirect jabs at Wooyoung for the hurt he had caused you.

Amid the laughter and nostalgia, they warned him not to hurt you again, albeit in a lighthearted tone. Before you had a chance to come to his defence, Wooyoung took the initiative to address the elephant in the room.

Surrounded by the chatter of your old friends, he took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on you, and then addressed the group with a touch of nervousness in his voice, "I know you've probably all heard about what happened between us back then, and there's no denying that I messed up big time. I hurt her, and for that, I can't apologise enough."

Your friends and classmates exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement while others waited to hear what he had to say next.

"But today, I want to make a promise, not just to her but to all of you who care about her. I promise that I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, showing her the love and respect she deserves." As he spoke, you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and the surprise on the faces of your friends gradually turned into admiration.

"Well, you better keep that promise, Wooyoung. We're all watching, you know!" One of your friends chimed in playfully.

Your boyfriend smiled, "I wouldn't have it any other way. I know I have a lot of work to do, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Another friend added with a smirk, "That's a good start, Wooyoung. Just remember, actions speak louder than words!"

The atmosphere lightened up as everyone joined in with their friendly banter. Wooyoung's heartfelt promise had not only taken you by surprise but had also won over your friends, showing them that he was genuinely committed to making things right.

As you looked at him, your heart swelled with a mix of emotions—forgiveness, hope, and the overwhelming feeling that your love story was finally on the path it was meant to follow.

The reunion had been a whirlwind of laughter, reminiscing, and catching up with old friends.

As the centre of attention, you and Wooyoung found yourselves in the spotlight, surrounded by friends eager to hear your stories and experiences since graduation. It was heartwarming to see familiar faces again, but it also felt overwhelming at times.

In search of a brief escape from the lively atmosphere, you gently tugged his hand, leading him toward a balcony just a few steps away from the bustling hall. The night air was cool and refreshing against your skin, providing a welcome respite from the warmth of the gathering.

Wooyoung willingly followed you, his eyes never leaving your face.

The quietude outside offered a stark contrast to the animated conversations and laughter inside. Out here, the distant sounds of the city were a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both looked out over the town. You took the chance to speak your mind, still touched by his promise, "You know, what you said back there meant a lot to me, Woo."

"Get used to it, babe. There will be plenty more cheesy words where that came from. I plan to annoy you with them for the rest of your life." You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love in his words.

"I can't wait for you to annoy me forever."

He finally turned you around in his arms, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. His voice was tender as he spoke, "I love you, babe. More than anything."

Before you could respond, his lips found yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you melted into each other's embrace. It was a kiss filled with all the words you couldn't express, a promise of love, forgiveness, and a future together. The years of longing, the pain of separation, and the joy of rediscovery were all encapsulated in that single kiss.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of happiness, gratitude, and the overwhelming feeling that, finally, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Laughter and catcalls from your friends inside the hall pulled you both back to reality. They hadn't been too discreet about watching your balcony rendezvous.

"Hey, lovebirds! Save the show for later!"

With shared laughter, you pulled away, your hearts full of happiness and gratitude. As you returned to your friends, you couldn't help but feel that your love had come full circle and that this time, it was stronger and more enduring than ever before.

The two of you wore genuine smiles as you demonstrated that love could indeed find its way back, even after years of separation.

Your presence together spoke volumes, reminding everyone that sometimes, love could be rekindled, and old flames could burn brighter than ever before.

I'm realising that my oneshots are gradually getting longer and longer lmao. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this one!

This took me quite some time to finish. I worked on this bit by bit in between breaks from my assignments and thesis, so I do apologise if certain parts might've appeared somewhat awkward(?).

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #office au #exes to lovers #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez fic #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot

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arafilez · 6 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤvii.ㅤ DREAMY DAY 𒉽 jung wooyoung❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤangst ex2lㅤ ✸ㅤhis eyes shook, partly in disbelief, partly in emotional turmoil as he saw you through the spy camera. why are you making him do things he will regret?ㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: crying ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3.3kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ how long will we be a sad song ❜

Wooyoung types away furiously as soon as he gets the code from his sister and makes a small noise when he is successful. He whistles softly, setting up the camera in a separate projection and calculates the dimensions of the hologram ship. He brings up the hologram of the half-made one and being satisfied enough with it he closes it for the next day.

He returns his attention back to the security footage he has broken off the bar and sees Jongho walk in. Wooyoung pulls his chair behind him, relaxes on it and puts his feet on the table.

Munching on a pack of Doritos he informs San that he has access and is keeping watch. He gets bored of watching it soon enough, Jongho informing, the seduction and he is bluntly aware Mingi is already there with his car. He looks over towards Yunho’s table and makes a face when he sees the usual flirting between Yunho and his sister.

They should just get together already.

Mingi’s voice booms in through his earpiece that all is clear and finished and he sighs swiping the other tabs closed and reaches forward to close the main camera one.

His next moves halt when he sees you arranging some glasses. Why are you working here? His breath becomes unstable when he scans your figure, the same face, the loose bun you always have on now in a low ponytail. Had on, though.

He is definitely tripping, he needs sleep. That is not you. He quickly zooms in and his breath becomes shallow.

It’s you. It’s definitely you.

He vaguely registers his sister saying she is leaving the room and doesn’t even pay attention to Yunho’s flirty remarks as his mind fills with you. You and your- and Wooyoung’s everything.

“Yu-Yun- it’s her,” he exhales softly but Yunho catches it on quickly running over to him. He sees Wooyoung staring blankly at the screen in front of him and looks at it.

Yunho clicks his tongue in worry and tries to make Wooyoung understand by saying, “Maybe it is someone else.”

“I zoomed in Yun, also I can never not notice her,” Wooyoung voices out, his stoic voice echoing in the room making Yunho worry much more than before. This is terrible, Wooyoung is returning to the opposite of his usual bubbly self like he did a few months prior.

When you left.

And it took a lot of work from the rest of Ateez to get him back to his normal self.

“Whatever you do, do not even think of going to meet her, we are spies,” Wooyoung hears his sister speak and looks up to see her angry eyes pointing towards the screen. When did she return?

“I can go in a disg-” Wooyoung's voice is cut off by his sister glaring at him.

“No, absolutely not,” she refutes.

“Yeah but-“

“Wooyoung, no.”

“Just listen-“

“Jung Wooyoung, it took me two whole months to get you to eat something proper, go a day without crying, you think I want to see you get hurt by her all over again?” his twin sister screams at him.

“Shut up, she did not hurt me,” he screams back.

“We are not having this conversation, Woyo,” she almost snarls at him calling him by a name only she ever did and he rolls his eyes grunting out a ‘fine’.

Yunho decides the brother and sister should stay apart so he taps Wooyoung assuring him lightly and escorts his sister back to her room.

Wooyoung closes down the hologram but not before checking the exact location of the bar.

A mix of night air and gunpowder infiltrates his nose as he steps out of their base. He should not be doing this. He should definitely get some rest, not sneaking out of their base late at night, just to see you. What is he? A teenager? No.

He is quite satisfied with the light overcoat he has on, enough to make him look similar to people in the bar you are working on. He should be not getting inside.

It is such a bad idea to see you, right?

Fuck it, it is fine.

You serve the official sitting on the stool in front of you and look around at your co-workers mixing drinks. You toy with the ring on your index finger absentmindedly and pick up the random conversations going around the bar your father owns as a side business.

You hear the main doors creak open and usually you would have ignored it but you look up still toying with your ring and you see him. You see him walk through the door and sit on the opposite side of the bar, right across from you.

Your eyes glaze looking at him. Of course, you are aware of the news of Ateez infiltrating, but you surely did not expect him to find you.

Then again, he is the hacker of the team!

You take in his features, the sharp nose bridge, the protruding chin, strands of hair falling on his forehead like they used to, the bead wristband he wears and finally the overcoat he is wearing. To any other person, he will look quite low-key but, to you? To you, he looks like every memory you desperately wish to forget.

Wooyoung looks up from his glass and looks across and before he can meet your eyes you look away. His eyes follow your structure moving along the bar cleaning up the glasses in your area.

Wooyoung angrily grunts, eyes never leaving your figure before he places the glass lightly on the table, pays the bartender and leaves through the door.

That would have been the longest fifteen minutes of your life.

“Wooyoung we can’t do this anymore,” your voice comes barely above a whisper as you see a dishelmed Wooyoung enter through your doors and stop in his tracks. He looks at you quizzically and you take the cue to continue, “I can’t do this to my dad, I don’t ever want him to be in danger.”

His breath becomes uneven at your words, wanting to believe this is some kind of prank or a fever dream. When he doesn’t see your eyes crinkling in the familiar smile, reality hits him like a truck. You were doing this, you were breaking up. He nods his head slowly and his ears start to buzz. You say something along the lines of already being packed up and then you are gone.

Just like that, from his life.

As soon as he leaves everything breaks down in you. You turn your back to the table, gripping one of the bottles too tightly for your liking and put your hand over your mouth. Your breath becomes unstable and his silhouette lingers at the back of your mind.

He looks so similar yet everything has changed, so close yet you can’t reach him.

A small whimper leaves your lips and you dip your head down not wanting anyone else to notice. Why is he crashing himself like a wave in your life? Again? Why can’t he just stay away for his safety?

Why can’t he just leave?

Wooyoung’s anger gets the best of him and he screams out loud as soon as he enters the headquarters. He could give no lesser shit if the alarms go blaring due to him. He kicks a stone in his path hard and bites down on his lips hard.

The metallic taste of blood on his lips makes him snap out of his trance as he walks towards his room. Clutching his head he sits down on the bed.

How could you just pretend he did not exist so easily? IS he the only one trying? He had to find out.

The next day, Wooyoung visits your bar again and sits at the table in front of where you usually work. Your feet seem to be sticking to their places as soon as you come back from your break and find him there.

You maintain your professionalism and ask him, trying your best to hide the despair and regret in your tone, what he wants. He looks up at you and your resolve falls immediately as you stare back at him.

His brown eyes hold the same amount of depth as the last time you saw him, the time you broke him. “Pinot noir,” he speaks the same time you think it in your head and your hand moves automatically through the shelves searching for the ingredients.

Wooyoung’s eyes travel over the back of your figure, raking over the hands that are busy shaking the bottles to make his drink. You look at him and your eyes meet and then you both look away.

You cannot be doing this.

You quickly put the attachments in the drink and push the glass towards him and he takes it and your fingers brush and neither of you pull back. You let him do it against your better judgment. He is your ex, alarms blare in your head but you push them back down and look at Wooyoung, his gaze fixated on your hand.

The ring.

The promise ring Wooyoung and you bought together is still in your finger. It is a bit black from all the work it has been through but to Wooyoung it feels the shiniest when he suddenly feels everything coming back to him.

“This looks like a real diamond,” you giggle satisfied at the purchase and Wooyoung clings onto your arms laughing his loud-pitchy laughter. You lean against his shoulders, rubbing your nose against his arm. Your giggle vibrates through his body and he wraps his arms around your body.

You trip lightly from joy, laughing and drunk in love and you look up at his eyes that could easily fit all the stars in the universe. You squish your cheeks against his shoulder pads grinning and he looks down at you endearingly. “Promise me you will never leave me,” you whisper against his neck that night.

“I promise,” he whispered back eyes holding your own and lips pressing to yours. He kept his promise, you were the one who left.

Memories spin in your head and you abruptly pull back your hand and turn your back to him. You gulp down the lump in your throat and turn around to face your other customers with a smile that can fool anyone.

Anyone but Wooyoung.

Wooyoung enters today at a slightly later time than he usually does and sits on a chair across from where you are working. He needs to talk to you. He toys with the menu card and orders a light alcoholic drink and sits quietly along with the glass.

He can be caught in this manner, he definitely should not do this, his rational part pleads to him and he decides to ignore that and sit in the bar. He sees you making drinks mixing up the ingredients and smiles softly at your concentrating face.

The face he used to tease every day when you tried to cook without his help.

“No Wooyo, I can do this, I don’t need your help,” you whine as Wooyoung try to butt in your cooking for the nth time. He rolls his eyes looking at the diced onion pieces which were bigger than normal. He steals a glance at you concentrating on the sauce and slips towards the onion.

“Don’t you dare touch those onions,” you warn him and he lets out a laugh before letting the chopping board go and standing behind you. He circles his arm around your waist, gently swaying along with the music and leans in to rest his head on your shoulder and says, “I offered for help, so when this turns out bad, I am not going to be some Kdrama main lead and say it is good.”

You grunt at his statement, rolling your eyes and he tilts his head to look at you smiling softly. You look back and say, “What?” and he nods his head to a ‘no’ and you break into a giggle trying to push him away. He holds you tightly and presses light kisses on your cheeks and you whine a little from being shy. “I like your concentrated face,” he whispers and you slap him on his chest lightly and he takes the chance to kiss you on the lips and then lets you go.

“Don’t touch the onions.”

He sighs heavily and looks at the time, almost two, and you will be finishing soon. The bar is almost empty by the time you finish and he looks at you expectantly while you are rigorously cleaning the shelf and putting some new bottles in.

Wooyoung halts himself for a second when he sees an older man asking you for a drink. You comply well but something seems off to Wooyoung as he watches your slightly shaky hands and breathing getting more intense.

Ministrations others wouldn’t even catch.

He looks at you once and you know he is but you don’t look back and continue mixing the drinks. The old man in front of you is now openly checking you out and it makes disgust crawl into your body and you quickly finish the drink and pass it to him with a smile.

The man grabs your hand and it makes you halt abruptly and look at Wooyoung for the slightest second before focusing your eyes on the person in front. He has a creepy smile etching his face as he whispers, “I am living across the street if you want to have a good time,” following a wink.

You fake a laugh and try to free your hands but he grips it more tightly making you stagger and panic. You attempt once more while making useless small talk but it just makes him bolder and he tries to hold your waist.

That’s it, he is going down, you thought and you are almost on your way of twisting his hand for good when a familiar pair of hands wrap around your wrist.

“Sir I don’t think my girlfriend likes you touching her,” Wooyoung speaks sternly but enough calm in himself and you look at him in shock. You don’t need your ex saving you!

“Wooyoung,” you whisper a warning lightly but it all goes in vain as the older man makes a snarky comment about your body and Wooyoung fists himself to punch him.

You almost trip over the table but pull Wooyoung back before he can punch him and now you hold his wrist tightly trying to shush him up. The few bartenders that remain are already looking and you don’t need a bigger scene or else everyone will know. Your dad will know.

You glare at him and it shuts him up but not before tripping the man lightly on his way out. The man curses loudly at you two before leaving and you heave a sigh of relief.

Letting go of Wooyoung’s hands you walk around, passing an easy-going smile to your colleagues and other customers and Wooyoung goes back to finish his drink. The bar will be closing soon for the night and the customers and other bartenders start leaving.

As the last of the customers leave you glance at Wooyoung twirling his glass in his hands and you walk towards the door. Putting on the ‘closed’ sign and locking it you walk towards him.

The sound of your shoes echoes in the empty bar but Wooyoung doesn’t look up and you stand beside him and say, “Still waiting for me?” His deodorant hits your nose and you feel the familiarity creeping in as he looks up at you.

“I will always wait for you,” he voices out and you roll your eyes forcing out a fake laugh and looking away.

“Yeah? Well then do me a favour and don’t. I don’t need you to save me like some fucking damsel in distress,” you snap at him, your eyes raking his face for signs of annoyance.

His deadpan face makes you angrier and it gets frustrating as he keeps looking at you with the warmth in his eyes.

How are exes supposed to act around each other? Is it mentioned in any textbook? Because you would surely like to throw that at Wooyoung’s face. Why is he following you around? Why can’t he just leave?

“Wooyoung, leave,” you say evenly and he turns a deaf ear to you while you clear out the few glasses in your area. He attempts small talk all of which you reply snapping hard just to make him leave.

You can’t have him hurt, and if he is anywhere near you he will end up getting hurt and you know it.

“Can you just leave me alone Wooyoung? What? Is it that hard to leave because of your clinginess?” you scream hitting all the nerves of his insecurities very well. He needs to be safe and you will never care how much you hurt him only if he lives.

“You don’t even mean that,” Wooyoung scoffs, his eyes boring into the little habit you do when you are lying. You want to scream at him, right now, for knowing you so well. For knowing every fibre, every nerve better than anyone else.

“I have to do this Wooyoung, so leave, before I say anything more,” you say, your voice slowly starting to break. One more word from him and you will be gone.

“You're doing everything I told you not to, is that how much you miss me?” Wooyoung screams and you know you have hit his last nerve. For the first time in three days, you properly look up in his eyes and see them glazing into yours.

Anger, sadness, comfort, love and so many more emotions right behind his brown irises.

His eyes search yours and you know this is moments away from disaster. You have always been rebuked for your ease in forgiveness, for you giving in easily and the sob you have been wanting to keep inside escapes your lips.

“Yes fine, I fucking miss you,” you scream right at his face taking laboured breaths in. Wooyoung stands there, dumbfounded at your outburst and before he can say anything you continue, “I miss you, yes, I miss us. Fuck you Woo, because I miss you hugging me, I miss our blanket fights and I miss our cooking mishaps.”

Tears fall through your eyes fast, blurring up your vision and you look up at Wooyoung who is just standing and say, “I miss your light kisses, I miss waking up next to you. But there can’t be an us, because we are now in different dimensions and you will go back-“

The rest of the sentence dries in the back of your throat as you feel his lips on yours. You suffer from the initial shock of the familiar feeling and then let go and kiss him back.

They taste just how you remember them, and it makes you cry harder as his lips move along with yours. Everything about the kiss feels familiar and the warmth pools in your stomach as you feel at home.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, feels feral. He had thought you would push him away but when he feels you kissing back he gently intertwines your hands and caresses your knuckles. He has missed this, he has missed you and everything way too much.

You two part and you look at him, at his glossy eyes and teary smile and he gently dabs your tear-stained cheeks with the pads of his palm and smiles softly.

“How about we elope this time?” he giggles and you pout lightly punching his chest. Your Wooyoung is still all the same.

“We are not in a movie,” you whisper and he shrugs.

“Yeah, eloping does sound good,” he taunts ignoring you and you laugh loudly and he grins at how much he has missed this and places a soft peck on your lips making your nose and cheeks red.

It has been an exceptionally dreamy day.

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ finally reached the point where everything got deleted last time and now i have finally published this ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

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yundeob · 3 months

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A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

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shocymer · 7 months

Text

Want me to teach you?

"Starting off as journalism clubs buddies, you never know how your relationship will take turns after he offered to give you a lesson."

Pairing : Yunho x f!reader

Word counts : 2.3k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , college AU, gamer yunho, oral (receiving), size kink, big dick! yunho, slightly pussy edging, overstimulation, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

“There’s something between you and her. I mean like you’re in relationship or..?” Wooyoung asked him carefully.

Yunho’s eyes goes widen. He never thought of dating you in the first place. After breaking up with his longtime ex lover, he completely avoided the topic of romance. He’d been dating his ex since high school. But at the certain time they’re in college, she became a campus crush and immediately dumped him.

He let out a soft chuckle in response, “How could that be?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The atmosphere.. ehhm kinda heavy around you two.” Seonghwa suddenly chimed in while his finger moved in circle towards Yunho.

He raised his eyebrow, a thin smile form his lips after ridiculed by them.

“Nah we’re not. We’re just friends, that’s all.”

To be honest, he wasn't that surprise when they asked about it. It all started from two months before. You accidentally took a glance on Yunho’s phone. He’s immersed in Detroit: Become Human walkthrough video while waiting for other faculty journalism club’s member to come.

Then you happened to be walking behind him before taking a seat. “Oh you’re into that game too?”

“I want to give it a try.” He turn at you for a moment before his eyes glued back to the screen. “But I still figure it out whether this one worth it or not.”

You crossed your arms then slightly lean towards him in attempt to get a better view of the video. “Hmm.. It’s a shame if you know most of the plot through this. Like I want you to experience the true ending by your own choices.”

“Wait, you ever played this?” Surprised that you’re into gaming stuff.

“I did, but on PC. I don’t know if there’s any differences if you play it on your console.” You lean away from him.

Now, he’s more interested in you and leaving the video played alone in the background. Distracted by your little fingers fidgeting on the back of your phone unconsciously, as both of you deep in talk. He’s wondering why is it so small and weirdly cute. Then he glanced back to you.

“So you’re not used to play with the controller right?”

You nod at him, “yeah, last time I try it when I was in 7th grade or something. The grip was uncomfortable. Right after that, I decided PC is much more easier.” You paused for a second, “but sometimes I would love to try it again.”

He chuckled seems to know the reasons why. Proceed to clear his throat before he answered you back, “Want me to teach you?”

Deep sighed left from your mouth, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be mad at me the second we’re in.”

“No no, definitely not. I got patience as deep as the ocean. You sure know that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, definitely a saint in your past life.”

He laughed at your remark and how annoyed you’re right now. You smacked his arm, telling him to stop. Not too long, both of you getting ready for the club’s meeting as everyone already gathered in.

You thought he’d be joking. He never brought that idea again after the last conversation with you. He occasionally texted you only about the club’s activity or college stuff. Until a week after, he slide a brand new box of controller towards you.

“Better started now or never.” He slightly tilted his head, pointing to where the box landed.

“Yunho, you don’t need to buy me this. I- like just tell me when you’re-”

“Shhh.. save that nagging for later.” His delicate hand started to unbox it with care. Then he handed it to you.

It’s mostly dominated with white and soft blue colors on the side. Plus the kitty paw shaped the thumb grip, make it seems like a customized controller. You reach it in fascination. That’s super cute. Both of you think the same way, but completely on different matters.

Yunho kept looking at your fingers which is nicely wrapped the controller. His eyes following the direction of your little thumbs that moving uncoordinatedly, mimicking the way you’re gonna use it in game. Then, his gaze turn to your lips, looking at how cute and plump it is.

He shook his head, after that he explained to you about it’s feature, how to turn it on and how to charge it. You listen to him just like in one of your lectures. Remembering everything that he told you while nodding at the same time.

“Thanks Yunho, that’s so cute.” You looked at him in guilty. “I bet this was expensive right?”

“Well, actually not that much. I just want you to use it more if it looks like that.” He flicked your forehead. “This is my own wish. Don’t ever feel bad about it, okay?”

After that day, you spent almost every weekend playing co-op game with him. He patiently guided you from the voice chat. Dealing with how forgetful you are and a lot of complaints about your sore fingers. With that antics of yours, he only let out small chuckle or teasing you even more.

On the weekday, sometimes you met him in the club’s room. Mostly during the meeting or when you do the project. The moment you asked him to check your works, he’ll lean over from your behind and randomly put his hand on top of yours while the other hand is scrolling the mouse. There’s also a moment he covered the shelf corner with his hand when your head nearly bump it or he’ll immediately fetched the things you needed where it’s difficult for you to reach.

You never realize that, but not with your other two friends. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, they keep exchange glances across the room whenever Yunho and you act like a new pair of lovers. They’re a hundred percent sure sensing something more than platonic relationship, when the actual truth is not. There’s nothing between you two, yet.

⁠✧

It's 3 days before the exam period. The faculty journalism club already in chaos for past few weeks. They’re divided into two teams. First team is responsible with the faculty website news update, and here you are in the second team handling the semester end magazine. Your leader pushed the deadline earlier hoping the only left to do is printed it out at the end of exam day.

Your tired ass have been proofreading for solid three hours non-stop. Flipping through the revision sheet and going back to the laptop. Luckily you don’t have any class today. All of you agreed to finished it today. But alas, there’s only four of you left, and making it worse the other two need to leave too.

“Shit, I forgot to consult my thesis. I’ll be back at evening!” Seonghwa barging out in hurry. No wonder he’s literally your senior a year above you.

Not too long, Wooyoung following around as he got notification with a sudden class at noon. He’s cursing along the way. Of course all of you haunted with the leader’s wrath, considering how strict he is. You still remembered the looks on his face when the last project failed.

There’s only Yunho and you left alone. Silence along the typing sounds are the only sound that filled the room. At this exact time, most of the clubs room are empty. Either everyone still in the class or diving in the library preparing for the exam.

The work flow with him lasted for more than an hour. He’s occasionally sipping his iced coffee while working on it. He took the editing part, after that passed it on to you. But this time, his hand slipped, nudging the cup of his coffee. He could save it, but not with your pile of revision papers. It scattered all over the floor.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He immediately crouched down as you do the same to collect the papers.

While collecting it in a rush, your fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Your face only a few inches from his side, making him shiver from the feeling of your warm breath against his skin. Then he turn to face you, staring deep into your eyes. Your heartbeat increase rapidly as he turning his hand to hold yours. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your small plumped lips.

When the tip of your noses touched, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You crushed his lips, kissing him hungrily. He pulled you in, till his back hit against the wall only to bring you on top of his lap while the kiss still not broken. He peeled off his denim jacket as the temperature keep raising between you two.

Gasping for some air, you pull out from the kiss. His index finger caress your cheek trailing down to you lips. You open your mouth to let it in wrestling around with your tongue. He let out small groaned at the sight of it. “I always curious how it taste like.” He lean in to you, whispering into your ears, “and that’s incredibly sweet.”

He picked you without a warning, gives you a quick kiss before plopping you down to the couch, then closed the curtains in swift motion.

Now he’s back to you, nibbling the nape of your neck, sucking on it, sometimes sunk his teeth beneath your skin. You’re squirming under him, gripping onto his hair as the sensation wash over you. He looked up to you, searching for your permission to go lower.

You nodded at him. He’s devouring your lips again while his hand pushed up your tight knee-length skirt, revealing wet trace over your panties. His fingers caress your clothed clit, moved in circular motion. You moaned between the kisses, you can feel he’s smirking on top of your lips.

He moved the panties to the side, then dip his finger into your folds. He chuckled, “you’re already this wet hmm?” Then he’s slipping in another finger, makes you gasped at how full it is inside. At first, his fingers moved back and forth slowly, but over time it’s moving faster making squelched noises due to how wet your pussy is.

He's amused by looking at the face you make right now, moaning out his name when you almost at the edge. He’s stopped in the middle of it, pulled out his fingers. “It’s not enough if it just like that.” He's immediately going down to yank out your panties, then sticking his third fingers into you, moving abruptly while his tongue flicking your clit, sucking on it hungrily. You grip onto his hair tighter, only strangle moan left out from your mouth before his another hand tried to cover it. You buckled your hip as you reaching out the orgasm, biting the palm of his hand trying to stifle your moan. He flicked his tongue few times makes your body spasm due to overstimulation. When you chasing down from it, he licked clean your pussy, then going back to kiss you, giving the taste of yours.

He take a step back, unbuttoning his jeans then pulled down the zipper, letting his cock sprung out from his brief. You took a peek on it with your half lidded eyes, still recovering from the last orgasm. It looks swollen, the unbelievable girth with it’s veins pop visibly, and the tip is glistening with the pre cum. He's stroking it for few times before lining it on your entrance. The tip is slowly in, you can feel the pain as it bigger than your thought.

He's leaning down to you, holding your hands, then trailing kisses on your neck hoping you to relaxes. “I’m sorry is it hurting that much?” He’s stroking your hair while looking into your eyes. “Not.. that much.” You answered him in teary eyes. He kisses your forehead then to your eyes. “It’s a still little bit more baby, can you take it?” You nodding at him. When it’s all in, he let it still for a moment so you get used to it. Then he start moving slowly while his hand unbuttoned your shirt, cupping your breast and slightly fondle it.

He thrusting it faster after he hear you moan in pleasure. His hand grip your waist, while the other hand busy teasing your clit. Your pussy tightened at every deep thrust, making him groaned at the feels. His hips moved erratically after pressing his hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge whenever his cock in you completely. Your nails digging in his clothed back as you feel the knot in your stomach. You squirted over him, making a mess on his shirt. He didn’t stop while your walls clenching on his cock, “you felt so good baby.” After few thrusts he filled your cunt, milking his balls empty. He pulled it out, then plopping himself beside you. Both of you breathing heavily while staring at each other. After realizing it, both of you laughing at how messy you’re right now.

⁠✧

“I’m baaack!” Wooyoung slammed the door open, his eyes goes widen at the sight of you two.

“Aren’t you guys tired? You didn’t move an inches since I left.” He saw you typing furiously on your laptop, meanwhile Yunho sorting out the papers beside you.

Yunho turned to him, “actually I need some snacks.” He gets up from his chair, then put his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Before they go, Wooyoung looked at you. “You don’t need anything? Or maybe you need some fresh air, you can go with Yunho instead. I’ll continue the rest.”

“I’m fine.” You paused for a second, “uhm.. well, maybe I want a smoothie.”

“Okay got it!” he gives an okay sign to you, then dragged Yunho along out of the club room. Yunho stopped his step, “wait I think I left something.” He ran back to the clubs room.

When he got there, he whispered something to you, “After this, do you still want me to teach you? My lesson isn’t done yet.” You flinched at his sudden peck on your lips. He smiled cheekily while leaving you speechless alone, squirming on your seat as you feel his juice spilled down over your thigh.

#pirateeznet #wonderlandnet #cromernet #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez fics #ateez fic #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez hard hours #yunho hard hours #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #shocymer

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hwaslayer · 9 months

Text

crimson (cs) | one shot.

—summary: life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—pairing: choi san x stripper!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, nightclub au | smut, angst

—word count: 21.8k

—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, heavy on the night club/strip club setting, lap dances, oc doesn’t remove her clothing by choice but is a little more hands on with her clients at the club, alcohol consumption/intoxication, san’s got some baggage with his ex, mentions of a toxic past relationship, mentions of severed relationships with loved ones, protected/unprotected sex, praising, making out, one shower together hehe, missionary, doggy style wooof, cowgirl, sprinkle of spit play, clit play, breast play, mentions of marking, ass slapping, mentions of men getting touchy at the club, fighting (some pushing and a few punches), arguments, flashback scenes, not all ateez members are present - only mingi, san, wooyoung, hongjoong and jongho

—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT’s you - wooyoung, san & yeosang

He became your number one client.

Quick.

You remember the first time he stepped into the club with his friends, eyes roaming the floor until they landed on yours. You hadn’t expected the group to walk in when they did— the club being pretty dead lately, with the usual, familiar men walking in to let off some steam, to get their fix. You could tell it was the first time they’d ever walked into a strip club with the way they paused near the entrance, not really knowing where to go or how to get settled from there. One of his friends took the lead and walked towards the main stage, his hesitancy obvious with how stiff and awkward he was as he sat on one of the velvet chairs closest to the stage. You hadn’t really paid much mind to them at first, especially him. You had been busy on the other end of the stage, but his eyes had been glued on you the entire time.

That solely piqued your interest.

He sunk into the chair comfortably, manspreading as his hands rested on his legs. He stared at you with his cat-like eyes, almost pleading for you to come closer and entertain him while his friends were busy tossing bills at your coworker on the right side of the stage.

He didn’t budge.

You strutted over, initially planning to tease him a bit; play around, work with his ways to give him something to remember. Little did you know that taking the first leap, giving him that attention, was going to change everything between you and this stranger.

Everything.

▹ FLASHBACK

You step in front of the pole, sliding down until you get to a crouch– making sure your legs are spread enough for him to see the itty bitty fabric from your bodysuit barely covering your parts. You can see him subtly bite onto his bottom lip as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You get a little closer, getting onto your knees to crawl towards him; ass posted up in the air while you keep your eyes glued onto him. You’re close enough to the point where he can slip a few dollars into the v-neck of your bodysuit.

And he does, adorning that pretty smirk of his; pearly whites peeking through those pink, plump lips.

“Atta boy!” You hear one of his friends yell. “San’s finally enjoying himself!”

“Dude’s got heart eyes. Look at him. Mesmerized as shit.” Another of his friends laughs before continuing to shower the right side of the stage with bills.

San was his name.

San.

“Gorgeous.” You hear him mutter as you continue to work the stage, eyes glued onto him with every move— every twirl, every dip, every roll, you make. His eyes are taking note of every detail, every tattoo that lines your arm, down to your hip and thigh. Because he wants to study you, all of you.

“It’s his birthday, give him something special!” You glide down the pole before stepping off the stage to greet the men sitting around. It was a normal routine for you, a way to initiate flirty conversations and take men back to a VIP booth for lap dances— lap dances that could easily earn you rent in one night.

A few of your regulars are sitting around, waiting for some kind of touch, attention. Which, you easily give through running your hand down their chests, whispering sweet nothings as they tuck a few more dollars under your bodysuit.

Throughout all of this, San is still focused on you.

So, you make your way back to him; his friends are still loudly proclaiming he’s the birthday boy that needs a little gift tonight. And lucky for him, you’re feeling rather generous— especially with the way San buckles around you, pleading, begging, for more of your attention since he walked through the door.

“Is it really your birthday?” You crouch in front of him, hands traveling up his thighs while you lick your lips and bite onto your bottom lip.

“Yeah, it is.” He swallows the lump in his throat when your hands brush against his belt.

“Please give him a private dance.” The same friend from earlier says. He has short black hair with a mole underneath his eye, black button-up exposing his honey skin underneath. He slips you a few hundred bills, a smirk plastered on his face when you meet his gaze. You gladly take the money and stuff it into your bodysuit, grabbing San’s hand as you lead him to the VIP area.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You come to a strip club on your birthday and try to deny a lap dance? That your friend paid for? Odd.” You tease as you push him against another velvet couch. The VIP booths are off to the side of the club, with red mood lights and cringy, dark red velvet curtains draping the front to provide privacy. The booths are small, intimate; just enough space for you to work the pole and be all up on San.

“I mean, I just—” He chokes on his words as he plops onto the couch. “You’re a busy woman, it seems.”

“I am.” You straddle his lap. “But, I can make time for birthday boys, too.”

“That’s nice to know.” His eyes carefully watch your every move. Your hands travel down his neck, down to his tie— tugging on it as you start to bodyroll against the music, against him, making sure San feels you. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. You watch as he reaches, but prevents himself from touching your thighs; afraid he’d be crossing a line even though, technically speaking, those lines have been blurred since he walked into the club.

“It’s okay, San.” You reassure him with a whisper, lips almost grazing his ear. His eyes meet yours just as you pull back and bounce on him a bit, hands caressing up and down his chest. You continue to work him slowly, taking your sweet time to make San feel appreciated, to make San feel like he’s had the best birthday in years.

“You know my name?” He says, hands comfortably coming up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze. His hand runs up your neck, to your jaw— gently forcing you to keep eye contact with him as you continue to dance on him. He’s entranced by you that he doesn’t really know what else to say, or how to react. But god, do you feel amazing on him. That body, too?

Heavenly.

“Your friends have been yelling it all night.” You stand and straddle him in the opposite direction, legs wrapped around his torso as you lean forward and bounce on his dick a little more. San can’t help but run his hands down your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you come back up and pry yourself off of him to head to the pole in front of him.

“Fair enough. What’s your name then, beautiful?” You look at him, ignoring the question at first. But, San feels a little different than your usual customers, feels a bit more personal even though you don’t know anything about him nor does he know anything about you. It’s the way that he looks at you, focused on your face, your every move. It’s the way that it’s a room full of dancers and he’s stuck on you. Most men are in the club to fill a void; seeking for quick satisfaction, something that’ll eventually blow over until the next visit. But, it’s nothing more than that. You are nothing more than a dancer, nothing more than a face on stage— someone who collects their bills and runs.

But to San, you feel different.

Before you look into him too deeply, you quickly snap out of it and begin to twirl around the pole, doing your usual pole routine when you’re in the VIP booth. You fall into a split, hand coming down from the pole, down to your body.

San follows.

“My name?” You repeat, and San nods.

“Is that not a normal question here?”

“No one ever gives out their real names here.” You chuckle.

“Then, what’s your stage name?” Time passes when you’re dancing. Usually, you give them 30 mins tops, 45 mins if they keep sending big bills your way. But, you never try to spend more than that with the same person. Not in this community. With the hundreds San’s friend handed you, you would’ve stopped at 15 minutes if this were anyone else.

You’re closing in 20– probably will be 30 when you blink— but you don’t really wanna stop giving San this attention. He’s attractive, fitting his button-up and slacks in all the right places. He has black short hair, a few strands draping over his forehead, a pretty Rolex sitting on his wrist. You think he could handle you if you gave him the chance, and the thought is enough to make your brain short-circuit.

“Crimson.” He smirks, running his finger across his bottom lip while he continues to watch you bounce your ass on the stage. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on— the bodysuit doing your body wonders as it makes his mind wander to the unknown.

To what you would look like naked, to have you underneath him, to have you calling his name.

He’s been glued to you from the start and he’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

“Crimson.” He repeats, the stage name dripping off his tongue like water. “Are you here every night?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You twirl with a smirk on your face.

“Come on, don’t do that.” He leans back, head resting against the couch as his hands rest on his thighs.

“Why would it matter?”

“I wouldn’t wanna come back if you weren’t here.” You giggle, stepping away from the pole and slotting yourself back in between his legs at a crouch.

“There’s plenty of other amazing dancers, you know? I don’t make the club.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But, it’s not them I’m asking about.” Your hands travel back up his legs, your face inches away from his dick. You swear you hear him hiss a bit the minute your face glides over, planting small, chaste kisses against his clothed stomach right above the belt.

“I’m here 4 days a week.”

“What days?” You stand, bending to whisper in his ear. His hand comes up to graze your thigh and hip, shivers shooting down his spine when you respond with:

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Because now, San takes it as a challenge and he’s determined to figure out which nights you’re here. Initially, he agreed to this whole thing thinking it’d be a one-and-done— a birthday done differently after all these past years only to become an after-thought as time goes on. But now, he wants more of you, all of you; wants to keep seeing you, feeling you, touching you, seeing you dance for him and him only.

He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

You look at him once more, tipping his chin with your finger before dipping forward. You only give him enough so that the tips of your noses brush against each other, enough to tease but not please the birthday boy on his special night.

“See you soon, Sannie. Happy birthday.” You whisper before turning on your heels and leaving him in the VIP booth to return to the stage. San has to gather himself for a minute, loosening the buttons on his shirt and his tie and adjusting his pants before heading back out to his friends.

“So?! How was it?” Wooyoung leans over on the chair right after he greets another dancer making her rounds across the floor.

“Good.”

“He’s red in the face.” Mingi laughs. “It was more than good.”

“Say thank you for the best birthday ever, Wooyoung.” Wooyoung teases and San can’t help but shake his head. He’s still lost in thought, eyes subtly scanning the room to find you but you are busy taking new customers into the VIP booth. The room feels hot, and he wishes he could be in the VIP booth with you, alone. He truly wished it never ended. “Let’s head to the bar and get more drinks.” San shrugs and follows along, the 4 of them heading into the bar where the music is louder, and other dancers are flooding the area.

As the night goes on, you’ve finished tending to your regulars— already knowing what they want, what they need, but making your boundaries clear every time they try to step over the line and take advantage of your generosity tonight. By the end of your shift, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted. Your feet are hurting from the platform heels you’re sporting. It’s crazy how after all this time as a dancer, you still aren’t used to the heels you have to throw on, excited to dip your feet in a hot, lavender foot bath when you get home. You change back into your casual sweats and matching hoodie, throwing the hood over your head as you bid farewell to your coworkers and step out the back door into the cold, crisp night. When you cross the alley to get onto the main road, there are a few gentlemen standing around, some smoking their cigarettes while chatting with their friends.

Usually, no one causes you trouble. From time to time, your usuals are drunk and babbling nonsense about how they wish they could take you home, show you ‘a new world.’ But, no one ever gets handsy, no one ever forces themselves on you. For the most part, they know what this is, they know at the end of the night this is nothing but a temporary fantasy— one you fulfill for a specific time frame before the new day dawns and things go back to normal, to routine.

Tonight, it’s a bit different.

“Yo, isn’t that the dancer?” You hear a familiar voice as you cross through the alley, passing by a big group on your way. They seem to be tending to a friend who has gotten sloppily drunk, yacking their brains out off to the side of the club.

“Aye cutie, going home already? Wanna give the birthday boy more love?” Another friend questions after he pulls the cigarette from in between his lips and exhales. “Bro, Mingi. Hurry up and get your sloppy ass together. It’s fucking cold.” He scolds their incredibly drunk friend afterwards.

“Hongjoong.” You hear San call for his friend. You do nothing but give them a simple look as you continue to walk on, trying not to feed them any attention. As attractive as San is, you are too tired to deal with this right now. After all, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“What, it’s a simple question. You never know, she might be down.”

“Sorry.” San apologizes on his behalf, his eyes red and glazed from the alcohol.

“Not down?” Hongjoong asks again, his eyes now glued onto you.

“No, I’m not.” You respond, walking backwards to maintain eye contact.

“Aw, why not?” Honey-skin with the black-button up chimes in. “He’s single. He could use it.”

“The fuck? Not helping.” San looks at his friend and taps him on the chest, making him bust out into a loud laugh.

“I don’t do that. Nothing beyond the club. Sorry to disappoint.” You smile at them before walking off onto the main street.

“Can he at least escort you home?!” They call out as you cross the street, making you roll your eyes as you continue the journey home all by yourself.

▹ END

Since then, there’s been a new addition to your regulars. One particularly more intriguing than the rest. You didn’t really believe Mia when she told you the familiar face came on your days off, asking the bartender if you were dancing tonight. He came, and he came, until he figured out the exact 4 days you worked. To say you were surprised would be an understatement because why on earth was San actually looking for you?

Why was he actually trying to figure out your schedule?

Did he really want to see you, or were you just his favorite dancer? Was he too shy to get close to the other dancers [at a strip club]?

It’s been a couple of weeks and San still comes. But, you’ve pushed the questions to the back of your mind; taking his visits with a grain of salt. You weren’t sure you’d pry anyway, afraid you’d be reading into this too much. After all, you are just a dancer.

What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“Babe, your man is here.” Mia peeks into the dressing room, her head popping in from the doorway.

“He is not my man.” You give her a look, but she giggles and smirks before turning.

“Hurry that ass up, he seems anxious.” She calls out just before she heads back out to the main floor. You roll your eyes, dabbing more lip gloss on your lips before heading back out onto the floor. As promised, San sits in that same chair you met him during his first night at the club while Wooyoung [you’ve come to learn] lingers near the stage. Wooyoung is already entertaining another dancer, taking every opportunity to slip a few bills underneath her bikini top.

To tease San a bit, you come up from behind up, trailing your hands down his chest while your lips ghost his ear. He turns slightly just for some sort of confirmation, though he’s already studied your body— down to the way you move, the way you tease.

“San.” You call his name. “Should I still be surprised that you’re here again?”

“You tell me.” He smirks, that pretty smile of his slowly becoming a weakness for you. “I’m just here to get my fix.” He winks, even though he really just wants to see you and be alone with you again.

“Get in line.” You tease. San immediately holds up a few bills, eyes darting from yours to your cleavage in that incredibly tiny silver bikini top you have on.

“Should I?” He subtly bites onto his bottom lip as he slips the money right into your top. You playfully roll your eyes and lead the way to a VIP booth, San undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves just about halfway up his forearm. Truthfully, yes, it’s been a long day [week, even] and he’s needing a release; wanting to let out some steam. But, he’s also excited he could do that with you and only you. He watches your hips sway as you walk and wait for him to enter the booth, shutting the curtain close so that it’s just you and him underneath the red mood lighting.

You step onto the stage; twirling around the pole before you bounce your ass on the stage. San watches intently, eyes glued to your bottom half when you spread your legs and show him how much those bottoms aren’t doing shit for you.

He is so, so curious.

He takes note of every detail of your body, studying it over and over again like a book. And god, he wants to do everything and nothing all at once— stuck between wanting to get his hands all over you and doing nothing just to admire your pretty face, your figure. San felt like maybe this was just a phase, a new, exciting experience in his life that’ll soon fizzle out.

But when San looks at you, he can’t agree. He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

He leans back onto the couch, his head resting against the edge as he manspreads. He licks his lips while watching your hands travel down your chest, your stomach.

“Why are you so far?” He questions, motioning for you to come closer. Your bikini top and bottom are still driving him crazy, and he’s certain he’ll lose his shit once you sit on his lap.

“So eager tonight?”

“Just been a rough week.”

“I’m sure, as with everyone else here.”

“Am I just everyone else?” You let out a small chuckle, straddling his lap. His hands immediately come up to cup your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you start to work your hips on him. He’s gotten pretty comfortable by now, though San still shoots you a look as if it’s his way of asking for permission first. You appreciate the little things, and San most definitely isn’t just like everyone else. But, as with any defense mechanism, you resort to a guarded response:

“I mean, you’re here at ungodly hours tipping girls for a dance.” He lets out a small laugh, strong hands now at your hips.

“Mm, I really only come for my favorite though. You might know her?” He jokes, his face only inches away from yours.

“Do I?” You follow along with his teasing. The strap to your bikini top falls off your shoulder and San’s eyes follow; the small room feeling 10 degrees hotter, pants a little tighter.

“Mhm.” He hums, his finger tracing a line up your leg. “She has tattoos just like this lining her thigh—“ He moves it up to your hip. “Up her hip.” His thumb comes up to your lip. “Pretty lips just like that. Long lashes. Prettiest smile I’ve seen.” His face moves towards your neck, lips grazing the surface below your ear. “Mole on the neck.” You subtly bite onto your bottom lip. San’s hand brushes up against your breast before he touches the small mole on your neck.

“Sounds like a lot of the girls around here.”

“Mm, but the one I’m thinking of goes by the stage name Crimson.” You continue to tease, bounce on him a little more, shake ass a little more. Your eyes linger on him a bit longer than you’d like, and you find yourself retracting. To him, the room is probably degrees hotter— for you, it’s starting to feel suffocating.

“She’s nothing but a ‘lil dancer, San.” You whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the surface before you hop off his lap. San is a little confused at the sudden change, but you feel like you’re reading too much into this, too much into San.

This isn’t supposed to be anything but business.

Why would San ever want you in that way? Most of this is to fulfill a want, a need, a fantasy. San is most likely saying this to get what he wants, to take charge and lead you on.

Though, at the end of the night, you are nothing but a face, a dancer. He wouldn’t think about you past the club. That is where this ends, regardless.

You give San one last look before you brush past the curtain, returning to the stage closest to the bar. Wooyoung is getting dragged to a VIP booth, his other friends now standing and gathering around the stage to get up close and personal to the girls currently on there. You make a beeline to the stage near the bar, the area being a little more dead than the main stage room.

Right before you hop on stage, Mia is delivering drinks to a few men off to the side of the room. She shoots you a look, following after handing over the drinks.

“Why are you rushing? Did something happen?” You wait for the bartender to hand you some water.

“Nothing happened.” You sip a bit to shake off your thoughts, your feelings.

“You sure? I’ll beat someone’s ass if you need me to and call security to toss them out.”

“I promise.” You look at her and squeeze her arm. “I’m just gonna stick here for the rest of the night, though. Need a change of pace.” She nods.

“Alright, if you say so. I’m still onto you.” She says, leaving you to help the bartender with delivering the drinks.

For the rest of the night, you continue to dodge San and his friends until the end of your shift. You don’t usually leave through the front doors of the club, but tonight, you sneak out and rush across the street with your hood up. You can hear San and his friends as they leave, causing you to pick up the pace of your steps— hoping you’ll avoid being caught.

But, San sees you, anyway. His eyes can’t help but watch for a few seconds more before he’s returning his attention back to the boys. He felt the shift earlier, and he picked up on the way you continued to hop from stage to stage— seemingly avoiding their group. He’s not sure what happened, or why he feels like you’ve suddenly got your guard back up around him. It’s something about you, and San knows it shouldn’t be that serious. This became a fun little past-time for him and his boys. But every time he’s left the club recently, he leaves a little bit more attached to you.

Because yes, you know how to work your magic in there. It’s no fucking joke. He gets a taste of you on stage, in the booth, and it blows his mind. But other than that, it’s the way you return the same look, the same touch. There’s something else, more to you than the surface, and he’s curious to find out.

It shouldn’t be that serious, but for San, it is.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho pushes a small coffee your way, cocking a brow when he sees how checked out you seem today.

“W-what?” You look at him, finally pulled out of your daze. “Oh, nothing.” You grab the cup and take a sip, giving him a tiny toothless smile of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He sets his coffee onto the side of the cart, helping you unbox a few albums that arrived today and needed to be restocked on the shelves. “So, really. What is it?” He asks, eyes still focused on restocking. Jongho has been one of your closest friends— probably the only closest, genuine friend that stuck by your side since you were younger. He still keeps in touch with the group you grew up with since middle school, but lots of those relationships have been severed after you started dancing at the club. Jongho was the only one who didn’t see you any differently, nor did he take the job as anything bad. He always knew you were passionate about dance and he understood you when times got tough; strapped on cash and needing a quick fix that would help you get by. It was a bit of a risky, somewhat dangerous step, but who was Jongho to control your life? You already didn’t have a great relationship with your parents, so the least Jongho can do is support you and be your pillar if no one else would be. He knew you could make your own decisions, and only you knew yourself best. He knew you’d take care of yourself, whatever that looked like.

Jongho was the manager at this small, quaint music shop in the city. Though, the city you lived in wasn’t entirely huge compared to others. It still had its old-school touch of wooden, soft decor with a rage of vintage to mainstream albums and art throughout the shop. The owner was a middle-aged man who used to play in a band back in the days, now retired and trying to stay in touch with his roots through the shop. Jongho had worked here for years before stepping into the full-time manager position and helped bring you on, especially during the time you needed it the most.

You really appreciate Jongho, and you’re glad you at least have him.

“Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve just finished school.”

“You did. High school?”

“College.” Jongho shrugs when you respond and give him a look.

“If it wasn’t what you wanted to do at the time, then why force yourself? Besides, it’s never too late. You can always go back to school.” He turns to you and places a hand on his hip. “Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t really know. What if they were right? What if I’m not good for anything besides being a stripper? What if I’m just that?”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Jongho tosses the empty box aside, triggering you to get it together and start doing your job. “You’re smart, talented, and passionate about a lot of things. Especially dance. Just because you work at a club doesn’t make you less of a person, Y/N.” He says in that usual serious tone of his.

“Thanks.” You poke your bottom lip out as you arrange the albums and start tagging the price stickers onto them.

“Who is it?” You sigh, already knowing Jongho won’t leave it alone until you finally tell him the truth about why you’re suddenly questioning your life.

“It’s the same guy I told you about. The birthday boy.” Jongho does a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

“He’s still showing up with his friends?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. And he always looks for me. Asks for me. Doesn’t pay attention to any other dancer there.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“We know nothing about each other. He knows my stage name, he knows my club persona.” You sigh. “That’s why it made me question life. It’s dumb, I know.” You purse your lips together as you shove the albums into the shelf and move onto the next task.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he keeps coming back for you and only you. Maybe he wants to know you, outside of the club and that whole persona thing.” Jongho shrugs. “Never say never.”

“He’s a businessman of some sort. Suited up all the time. He must work for a really good company. Probably has a family that is well off.” You shake your head and make your way back to the front. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Why don’t you ask—“ At this point, just as you settle at the register with Jongho, a few people enter the shop. You whip your head towards the entrance when you hear some laughter, only for your eyes to widen.

“Oh, shit. Jongho!” You whisper harshly. “What the hell is he doing here?!” He looks over your shoulder as San and Wooyoung walk in, Wooyoung instantly making a turn to head to the vinyl collection.

“Is that birthday boy?” You nod with a worried expression on your face. San is about to walk past the register when he furrows his brows at the small commotion happening behind the counter, turning his attention towards you and Jongho.

“Too late dude, he’s right there.” Jongho blocks you from leaving. “It’d be too obvious now, just take it like a fucking champ and say hi.” He says through gritted teeth. “I gotta walk around anyways.” He turns to San enthusiastically. “Hey, welcome in.”

“Hey.” San looks at the both of you, his brows still furrowed when his eyes land on your face.

“Hi. Let me know if you need help.” You try to scurry off, but San stops you.

“Woah, wait. You’re—“

“Don’t say it outloud here.” San’s lips form into the shape of an ‘o’ before nodding. He can’t help but glaze over your features and how naturally beautiful you are– the sun hitting your skin perfectly. You never packed on the makeup heavily on stage, but you did still have a face on every time you worked at the club. He subtly nibbles onto his bottom lip, hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.

“You work here, too?”

“Makes up for the days I’m not there.” He nods.

“Well, hi.” He gives you a small smile.

“Hi.” You tilt your head. “I’ve never seen you around this part of the city. Ever.” He snorts a bit.

“We’re never usually on the outskirts, but Wooyoung was adamant about getting vinyls for his new record player. You guys are the only shop that has a good collection.” You nod, San stepping aside when a customer unloads their basket onto the counter. He lingers around, watching how delicate you are handling the merchandise and how big your smile is when helping the customer. As expected, you’re very different from the club— you seem more relaxed, laid back. Sweet. Happy.

“So, are you just gonna stand there and wait for Wooyoung?” You chuckle after wrapping up the transaction and handing the customer their bag, bidding farewell as they head out of the store.

“I don’t really need anything so, yeah. I guess so. I’d rather talk to you, anyway.” You give him a look and take the sticker gun in your hand, walking away from the counter when a coworker comes back from break to relieve you.

“I’m working.” You head back to the floor, San following behind.

“I know.” He watches as you begin to sort through another shipment. “Are you gonna tell me your name now that we’re outside of the club?”

“Why do you wanna learn my name so badly? And why are you always at the club? Don’t you have like.. other things to do? A girlfriend or someone to entertain?” You shiver at the thought. God, you hope not. Especially with how he’s been lately. But, men are trash and you wouldn’t expect any less.

“Because I do? You’re not just someone from the club.” You look at him briefly before looking back down at the stack of albums. “And no, I don’t have someone to entertain. I wouldn’t be there often if I did.” Touché. “We just had fun on my birthday. It’s a good way to let out some steam after busy days.”

“Hm.” You hum.

“I like seeing you there.” He casually says, making you pause in your actions before continuing.

“I don’t make the club, San.”

“You make it for me. Or else I wouldn’t be going.” You look at him again with a hand on your hip. He has a small smirk plastered on his face and you can’t help but notice how attractive he looks under the daylight— smooth honey skin, hoodie over his head, soft black hair teasing his forehead. Your eyes linger on him for a lot longer than you’d like, having to force yourself to snap out of it when you realize [again] that San wouldn’t want you in that way.

“What are you trying to do here?” You cock a brow up just before you start working on the CDs in front of you, marking them down and adding new price tags to the back.

“Get to know you.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” San continues to smirk, leaning against the shelves.

“Y/N, take your break in a few minutes.” Jongho says coming down the aisle before giving San a small, pursed smile.

“Yeah, Y/N.” San chimes in and teases. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“You ready? I found what I needed—“ Wooyoung comes from around the corner, pausing mid-sentence when he realizes San isn’t alone. “Oh, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Your eyes dart to Wooyoung and he smiles. “Wow, you’re really pretty in the daylight—“ San taps him on the chest. “What, I’m just saying! It’s hard to really see faces in the club lighting. Besides, I don’t get the privilege of having private—“

“Okay, that’s—yeah.” San cuts him off and scratches at his head. “Really sorry.”

“You ready?” You let out a sigh before asking Wooyoung. “I can ring you up at the other register before I head to break.”

“Yeah.” You lead them to the smaller checkout stand at the end of the aisle, scanning Wooyoung’s items and bagging up his things as he pays. Throughout the entire time, San is still watching you; subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he can’t help but think of the nights at the club, being intimately close with you— seeing you in a different light than this.

Which, he’s trying not to. He just can’t help it. You are beauty in its purest form, and he wishes he could know more about you.

And you don’t fail to notice.

The look San has in his eyes is different from what you’re used to seeing at nighttime. It makes you nervous from the butterflies you feel, the curiosity running through your veins— even if the other thoughts in your mind say otherwise.

“Guess we’ll see you around?” Wooyoung smirks before walking out of the shop first.

“See you soon, Y/N.” Just before San walks out, you shut off the part of your brain that keeps spewing negativity and all these other ‘what if’s.’

“W-wait.”

“Hm?” He hums, his hands in his pocket as he cocks a brow up. You begin to scribble your number down on a random receipt that was left behind, pushing it over to San shortly afterwards.

“Don’t ask for free dances or anything though, I’ll block you.” San chuckles before grabbing the receipt and tucking it into his pocket.

“Don’t want that, now do we?” He winks before stepping out of the shop.

“Cute.” You glare at Jongho and hit him on the arm. “Ouch, what!”

“Why would you say my name around him!”

“You act like he wasn’t gonna find out one way or another, the dude definitely has googly eyes over you.” He crosses his arms and smirks. “Besides, you slipped him your number.”

“Ugh.” You continue to glare at him. “I’m going on my break.”

“So you can text San, hm?” You mouth out a quick ‘fuck off’ before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. The entire scenario hadn't been processed in your mind until now, unsure if giving your number to San was a good idea or not.

You didn’t wanna get attached to him. Not him, of all people. Though, you know you will, and that’s why it feels like a bad decision.

A decision you think you might regret.

The thought blows over when you get home that night, exhausted from your work day and the commute. You hop in the shower and whip up a teriyaki chicken rice bowl with some veggies. You plop onto your couch and turn on the TV, picking up on where you left off on the last episode of the series you were watching. Barely 7 minutes in, a call comes through on your phone, your eyes widening at the name flashing across the screen. Just as you briefly debate on answering the call, your hands are already moving towards the phone; swiping right to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” San says on the other line so nonchalantly, as if you two had been talking for years.

“Hi?” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. “What made you call?”

“I just wanted to talk to you and ask how the rest of your day at work went.”

“Oh.” You shrug as if he can see you. “It was alright. Nothing too bad.”

“Yeah? Nobody get on your nerve throughout the day?”

“I also work at a strip club. I think the music shop is very mild when it comes to that.” You joke, making San laugh a bit on the other line. “How was the rest of yours?”

“Good. Wooyoung and I just grabbed something to eat before he brought me home.”

“Where’s home for you?”

“Probably 20 minutes away from the city.” He responds just as you hear dishes clinking in the background. “Did you eat already?”

“I am right now.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Do you want me to call you later? Or, I guess, I can just text you?”

“It’s okay, San. I don’t mind.”

“Mmkay. Just checking.”

“I know you just saw Wooyoung, but you guys aren’t hanging out with the rest of your friends tonight?”

“Believe it or not, we like taking breaks from each other.” He laughs a bit. “No but, Mingi, the really tall one, has a date or whatever tonight.”

“Or whatever?” You laugh.

“He’s weird about these things. Says it’s a date when we all know he’s not really ready to date seriously.”

“Mm, one of those guys. You like that, too?”

“Definitely not. If I really like someone and we hit it off, I’ll pursue them to no end.”

“Mhm.” You find yourself teasing him more. “Cute. Have you guys known each other for long?”

“Me and Wooyoung grew up together. Our parents are close, too. We met Hongjoong and Mingi in college.”

“That’s sweet.”

“What about you, Y/N? What about your friends? Tell me more about yourself. I meant it when I said I wanna get to know you.” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, even though every bone in your body is telling you to continue keeping your guard up.

“Ah, did you? Cause it definitely sounded like a line.” You snort.

“It’s not just a line. Seriously.”

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have an interesting story.” You poke at your food before taking a small bite.

“Don’t say that. I find you interesting no matter what.”

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it later, too.” He reassures you.

“I– I don’t know. I’m not close to my family after the decisions I’ve made, and friends left my side especially after I started working at the club more. Jongho is really the only person who has stayed by my side since we were younger.”

“I’m sorry. Why aren’t they your friends anymore?”

“I guess they just think I’m dumb for not going to school and for settling at the club.”

“I mean, that’s not really fair? It’s not dumb if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t think I’d take dance that seriously.”

“You’re really good at it.” You chuckle hearing his response. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Wish I could tell you. My family is in the same boat. My older sister graduated from college and started her own lab after finishing her postdoctoral appointment. Imagine how much my family looks down on me. I struggled for awhile and Jongho helped me out a lot.”

“I’m glad you at least have him.”

“I am too.”

“What else do you like to do?”

“San, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do tonight?” He laughs. “What about your family?”

“Swear. My family is fine, they’re doing their own thing.”

“Do they live around here too?”

“Nope, maybe an hour or so away? I have an older sister too, but she’s overseas right now. She’s in the fashion industry.” He lets out a small sigh. “I genuinely wanted to call you and talk to you after seeing you today.”

“You’re such a mystery.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. You just are. I see you at the club a couple of times, then I see you at the shop. Now we’re on the phone. It’s just funny how things play out.”

“Nothing mysterious about it. Maybe it’s just meant to play out that way.”

“What’s meant to play out that way?”

“Us.” You pause. Mainly because you couldn’t believe this is how things were meant to play out with San. Why was he everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Why was he calling you and trying to get to know you? And what if it was meant to play out this way? It could either mean two things— one, San was meant to play some sort of good in your life.

Or two, San was meant to break your heart and teach you yet another lesson in this crazy universe.

You weren’t sure what to think of it all, if you were even ready to figure out what all of this meant.

But, at this moment in time, all the regrets and thoughts continue to brush over your head because you like hearing San’s voice and you like talking to him outside of the club. You are intrigued, and you can’t say you aren’t keen on finding out what this is.

So, you continue to talk to San. 30 minutes turns into an hour; slipping into bed with San still on the other line. It’s easy to talk to him and you like that he initiates most of the conversation. He doesn’t judge you and he doesn’t pressure you into talking about things you don’t feel comfortable diving into right now. He doesn’t put the focus on himself much and he listens. You find yourself giggling, tossing and turning under the sheets— thoughts exploring uncharted territories.

San almost feels like a bad decision; a decision you think you might regret.

For tonight, you’ll take it. You’ll take this for what it is, and you’ll take San for who he is. You’ll find out what his role is in your life and why this is playing out the way it is for the both of you.

Maybe he is good.

Maybe he is a heartbreaker.

Or maybe San is meant to be San, a passing moment in your life that eventually just ends.

Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. Even if it's something you might regret later on.

“Can I tell you something Y/N?” He asks just as you feel the exhaustion hitting your body.

“Mhm?”

“You’re really beautiful. I like seeing you, especially on stage. You know how to drive people crazy.”

San continues to text and call you, just to ask if you’re doing okay— to let you know he always looks forward to seeing you. Small smiley faces, goodmorning’s and goodnight’s, dropping by with food or just to say hi at the music shop; you can’t help but feel the butterflies in your tummy grow when it comes to San.

You’re not sure if you despise it or not.

Jongho says you should just see where it goes and tries to reassure you by telling you what’s meant to be, will be, and that you shouldn’t read too much into things right now.

Keep doing you as you have, and continue to move forward.

But, it’s a lot easier said than done. Especially when you don’t understand what San wants out of you. He’s respected your boundaries through text, not asking for free dances or nudes, only keeping it brief to check in on you sometimes. Yet, at the club, he’s handsy. He’s vocalized how much he wants you and how much he wishes he could know more about you outside of the club.

San is an enigma.

You count in your head as you slowly take steps forward on stage, trying your hardest not to get distracted.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Fall into the splits.

Five, six.

Bounce.

You get back onto your fours, shaking ass for the men lined up near the stage constantly tossing bills your way and shoving it under the ties of your bikini bottoms. It isn’t long before the main stage is where the most activity is happening— the club incredibly busy tonight with tons of celebrations. You’ve just stepped out of a VIP booth, your client paying you more than you could ask for by simply requesting if you could just work the pole for him. You gladly oblige, making it one less man to give a lap dance to before your shift is over.

Besides, you can’t help but think of San.

And the moment you start to think about him, is the exact moment you find him lingering in the club with his boys— eyes scanning the stage and room before they finally find you near the VIP booths. It’s been a minute since they’ve stopped by. San has mentioned that he and his friends have just been swamped at work and that he can’t wait to let some steam out soon. He’s in all black tonight; black fitted slacks, boots, a black-button up with his chest partially exposed. He’s got a silver chain around his neck, and god, does the sight immediately do things to you.

They order a round of drinks before San finds himself at one of the seats next to the stage. He’s entertaining the crowd a bit, joining in when your coworker steals the stage and grabs the attention from the men around you. You don’t mind because it gives you the opportunity to slip away and take a breather, maybe run for a quick water break before you sway your hips in San’s direction.

And sure enough, he’s been waiting. Like he always is.

Just as you sweet talk your way through the crowd and grab a few extra tips for it, San gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He smirks at you, eyes glazed over from all the alcohol he’s already downed.

“Mm, I’ve been waiting.” He says. “Can I have you?” The question sends shivers down your spine, his touch against your hip electrifying.

“Depends.” You tease as he slips a few bills into your bra. “Can you handle it tonight? You’re pretty drunk.”

“Can always handle you, babygirl.” He says in your ear. You instantly stand to your feet and grab his hand, leading him to one of the free VIP booths. As soon as you pull the curtains close and try to work your way over to the pole, San pulls you back onto his lap— hands caressing your sides as you fix your position and properly straddle him. “Need you here, not there.”

“Thought you liked watching me work the pole.”

“I do, but not as much as I like watching you on me.”

“You’re incredibly suave tonight, what’s gotten into you?” You giggle, feeling San’s hands grope your ass.

“Just missed you.”

“We’ve been talking quite a bit.”

“I know, but it’s not the same as seeing you.”

“You just missed the club.”

“Nah. You.” He corrects you. Something about San is different tonight, but you can’t say you dislike it. He’s a little more straightforward, a little more bolder, a little more open about his want— his need— for you. Especially when he caresses your tits; palm gently gliding over before giving your nipples a good pinch. Especially when his lips ghost over your neck, jaw, finally finding its way to your ear. Especially when he whispers about how pretty you look and how he wishes he could kiss you.

“Who said you couldn’t?” He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you, before taking his hand to your cheek and bringing you down to his lips. The way your lips crash is intense, full of lust.

Want.

Need.

A craving to be fulfilled.

The kiss easily turns wet, sloppy; San’s hands digging half crescents into your hips as he guides you to work your hips against him. He lets out a shaky breath in between, lips now traveling down to your jaw, neck.

“Fuck.” You hear him groan against your skin, right before his tongue glides against the surface; nibbling and sucking gently to soothe the mark.

“San.” You call his name as he continues down to the base of your neck, collarbone— lips now pressed against your inner breast. Part of you feels so, so good in San’s arms. But the other half feels so incredibly conflicted about the whole situation solely because San is an enigma. You aren’t sure if it’s enough to sway you away. Reality hits when the crowd outside roars in cheers, pulling you away from the sweet daydream, the sweet fog that temporarily clouded your vision. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you gently pry him away and push him back. “San.” You repeat.

“Yeah?”

“We shouldn’t.” He licks his lips, eyes still glued onto yours. Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, no. Instead, he kisses you one last time— lips locked until one of you pulls away first. You hop off his lap and walk off towards the curtain, giving him one last look before leaving him alone. “See you out there, okay?” Is all you manage to say. San knows better than to do this here, of all places, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s stuck on you, has this pull to you, and he wants it all. He doesn’t fight though, because he should be doing better. This probably looks all wrong and confusing to you and he doesn’t mean to do that. He’s just no good at this, no good at approaching you— you, so sexy and so independent.

It’s something about you, and he’s losing his mind.

“Shoot your fucking shot already.” Hongjoong comes around the corner from the bathroom, running into San as he exits the VIP booth.

“What?” He asks, still a bit discombobulated after the short but intense session in the booth.

“Your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Shut up.” He says, forehead furrowed. “We come to the club and all you do is look for her. Can’t tell me there isn’t anything more to it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just do it. What do you have to lose? You’re not getting any younger.” Hongjoong snickers, but it quickly fades when San’s expression hasn’t changed. “You’re just trying to fuck, right?” San finally meets his eyes but he doesn’t say anything, and it kinda freaks Hongjoong out. “What the fuck, San?”

“What?”

“You actually like her? You can’t be serious. I thought it was just a one time thing–”

“What the fuck does it matter?” San lets out a small chuckle to play off the whole thing, but frankly, he’s trying his hardest to not let Hongjoong ruin his mood. “Look, I’m not trying to think about this here. Ready?” He nods towards the bar, finding Mingi and Wooyoung amongst the crowd.

For the rest of the night, you do what you do best— deflect and avoid. You’re not sure how long you can keep doing this around San, especially every time you have an encounter with him. You start questioning yourself so much that it gets to you, that the reality of the situation starts dawning on you even though you have no foundation to back things up. But, you’d like to think that you haven’t fallen too deep; you could still swim up to the surface if you needed to, and you’d like to keep it that way.

However, that feels like a far reach when your shift ends. You feel like you’ve escaped for the umpteenth time until you realize you really haven’t, and that maybe, San was always going to be an enigma you were meant to figure out.

“Y/N.” You hear a familiar voice call for you as you walk down the street. You’re still walking at a steady pace, but the steps behind you seem to be catching up fairly quickly. “Y/N—” You turn and place your hand over his mouth, making San furrow his brows at you.

“We’re still nearby. I’d like it if you didn’t go yelling my name around like that.” He chuckles as you let him go, continuing your walk home.

“Some people should know your name by now, right?”

“And the majority that don’t?” You look at him. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” You playfully roll your eyes, trying to keep your guard up.

“What’re you doing, San?”

“Walking you home.”

“What about your friends?” You pause in your steps, creating enough distance between you and the club by now.

“They can handle their own.” He shrugs. “Let me walk you.”

“Then, what?”

“Then at least I know you’re safe and sound.” You let out a breath before continuing to walk with San. You aren’t gonna lie— having San’s company makes you feel ten times safer, and you feel comfortable having him alongside you. Usually, you rush your walk just to get home in one piece. Tonight, you can finally enjoy the crisp, night time air for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can finally enjoy the stars for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can enjoy San for a bit longer.

“San?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you get tired of going to the club?” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Not really. It’s kinda fun. Beats going to a regular club.”

“Can I ask?” He nods. “What do you do for work?”

“I just work for a tech company in their finance department.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know tech guys liked strip clubs so much.”

“Change of scenery.” You chuckle, easing up a bit in San’s company. “Is this your usual walk home?”

“Mhm. It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s also like.. 3am.” San looks down at you. “Why don’t you just take an Uber home or something?”

“Why, when it’s within walking distance?”

“Safety reasons. You don’t feel scared?”

“Not really. I’ve done this walk for years now.”

“Why don’t I just bring you home from now on?” You laugh.

“Even if you don’t go to the club?”

“Especially when I don’t go to the club.”

“That’s too much work. I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you work a regular 9-5 I’m assuming.”

“But, I’m offering? I don’t really trickle in right at 9 for work, as long as I make my 8 or so hours for the day. Plus, I can work from home sometimes.” You don’t say anything, so he quickly follows up with: “I know the walk is close, but it makes me feel weird about letting you be out here this late after work.”

“Hm.” You look at him.

“Let me.”

“Hey, just so we remember this— you offered and put that out on the table. Not me.” He laughs.

“Got it, your honor.”

“Are you not cold?”

“No. The cold is helping a lot right now.”

“How drunk were you today?”

“Pretty drunk.” He laughs. “It’s been a very long couple of weeks. I probably sound like a broken record but there’s no better way to put it. Lots of deadlines to meet with little time to prep.”

“Ah, the surprise deadlines. I’m sure it went fine, right?”

“Yeah, sure. After all the stress they put me through first.” San snorts.

“It’s done now. You made it.” You turn the corner and continue to walk down the path until you reach your building— a small, quaint building in the middle of the residential area. You lead San to your door at the far right corner of the building. “Welp, this is me.” You turn to look at him and he gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

“Cute.” You awkwardly fiddle with your fingers, feeling bad about turning San away. A part of you genuinely wants his company outside of the club and he seems to want the same, too.

“D-do you wanna come in, by any chance?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I am.” You turn to unlock the door. “Sorry if it’s super small and not aesthetically pleasing to look at.”

“Y/N, don’t apologize.” He steps in and steps out of his shoes, eyes wandering around your tiny studio. “It’s nice. I like the plants.” He eyes the plants near the shelf that blocks off your bed from the couch, TV and ‘living room’ area.

“Thanks. I try to take really good care of them.” He chuckles as he plops onto the couch.

“It’s a cozy space. It’s perfect for you, no?”

“I like it. I’ve been here for the past year and a half or so? Jongho’s aunt is the landlord and he did a lot to convince her to let me have this place for decent rent.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. He was probably tired of me.” You grab two water bottles from your fridge. “I lived with him for a long time. We shared rooms.”

“He’s a really good friend.”

“He is.” You stand near him and hand him the water bottle. “Make yourself at home, I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

“Can I join?”

“Do you wanna be tossed out?” He laughs.

“Kidding.” He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his social media. “I’ll wait patiently.” You grab your shirt and shorts before running into the bathroom to take a quick body shower, excited to rinse off the night from your skin. It only takes you about 15 minutes to fully get ready for bed, San still waiting patiently on your couch. His eyes shift from his screen to you—

Slowly ogling your body,

Down to your legs.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You plop next to him, watching as he lets his head rest on the back of the couch. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go home and get rest.”

“Do you want me to go home?” He looks at you and you aren’t really sure how to answer the question. Yes, you do, so San can rest.

But no, you don’t, because you like having him here.

You can’t help but remember the events that transpired earlier at the club and what it would feel like to have his lips on you again—

“No, not really.”

“Good, cause I wanna keep you company for a little longer.”

“San?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“When you kissed me earlier—” You lick your lips and swallow the lump in your throat. “Did you kiss me because you were drunk at the club, or because you genuinely wanted to?”

“I told you I really wanted to.” You sit and look at him, unsure of how you feel about his response. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, San. I can’t read you.”

“You don’t have to.” He sits up, his face only inches away from yours. “It’s okay to tell me you don’t believe me, Y/N. I’d rather you be honest than not.”

“Then, no. I don’t.” He lets out a tiny, breathy laugh, a small smirk perked up on the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough.” He says lowly, eyes scanning your lips, your face and all its features. “Then, will you give me another chance to show you so you do believe me?” His thumb gently caresses your chin before grazing over your bottom lip. “Hm?” He hums. You nod, giving him leverage to dip down further, lips locked with yours for another soft, passionate kiss. It quickly deepens when San slips his tongue in; his fighting for dominance against yours. You find yourself hurrying to position yourself onto his lap, hands grabbing at his shirt. He gently nibbles on your jaw before making his way back down to your neck, no longer hesitating to suck on certain spots to leave his mark. His hands make their way up your shirt, palming at your tits while you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. “Let’s get this off, baby.” The petname sends shivers down your spine, making you easily oblige to his request.

You shed off his shirt just as he tosses yours to the side, mouth instantly latching onto your perked bud. His tongue moves in a circular motion, pulling back with a pop before moving onto the next. You let out a moan when he flicks around your nipple, sucking gently before trailing his lips a bit further down.

“Hold onto me. Need you on the bed.” He huskily says as you wrap your arms and legs around him, San’s hands coming down to grip your ass. He takes you to your bed, wasting no time to get rid of the rest of the clothing sitting on your bodies. Everything feels so intimately rushed with San because there’s so much desire, so many thoughts and cravings to be fulfilled. He continues to kiss you, slipping two digits into you to test the waters— to see how wet you are, how tight you are. “Jesus.” He mumbles against your lips.

You are dripping.

“Sannie.” The nickname accidently slips from your lips again, making him smile against you.

“So cute when you say my name like that.” He lets out a breath. “You’re so wet for me. Think you can take me now?” He’s pumping himself and the sight makes you drool. He’s perfectly built— toned abs and biceps, skin dipped in honey, a perfectly thick cock. You nod, eager to get a taste of San, eager to see what he’ll do to you.

“Need you.”

“Oh, you do?” He has that smug smirk on his face just as positions himself at your entrance. “Shit, I don’t have a condom—”

“Here.” You quickly dig through your nightstand and grab a condom you got last week. Dude who tipped you off thought he was slick by throwing a condom in there, thinking he could get some.

At least it came in handy to your liking.

San quickly rips the packet open, throwing the condom on before lowering himself back down onto you. You let out a broken moan when he slips himself in, slowly burying himself to the hilt. His breath is hot against your neck, the both of you releasing shaky exhales while you get used to the feeling. He begins to rock his hips at a slow, steady pace; mumbling curses against your skin as he adjusts to your walls sucking him in.

“God, you feel so good— fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He grunts, his thoughts running wild about seeing you at the club, getting his lap dances.

To this.

Everything about you drives San wild and he’s not even sure how he can explain the feeling. So sexy, so independent; attitude on na-na while worrying about yourself and yourself only.

San starts to fuck you faster, hips pounding against you and echoing in the studio. You’re both probably a bit too loud for your neighbors right now, but you truly could care less. San was driving himself into you at a delicious pace, hitting you in all the right spots.

“San.” You call his name, hands tugging at the hair sitting on the nape of his neck. “Like that— like that.” You whimper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sits up to pound against you at a different angle, hands at your thighs to spread you completely open. He loves seeing the way your slickness coats his cock, his head tilting back in immense pleasure. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl? Wanna cum all over this dick? So good for me.” He praises, and praises, thumb coming down to work your clit.

“Oh, god.” You moan, hands gripping at the sheets as you feel yourself tipping over the edge the more San fucks into you, the more he rubs at your clit, the more your hips match his movements. You have never been this turned on by someone— at least, not in a very long time. San is so, so attractive. He is suave, and he knows what he’s doing with you. “So close.” San continues to praise you, telling you how beautiful you look underneath him.

How pretty you are.

How badly he wants you.

How you always drive him crazy.

And if it wasn’t for the constant praising, if it wasn’t for the way his hips worked so well against yours, if it wasn’t for the way San was skillfully rubbing at your clit— you wouldn’t be close to unraveling so quickly.

“San, I’m—“ You barely make out before you come undone beneath him, mouth slacked open as a silent moan leaves your lips; body trembling in his grip. This gives him momentum to drive his hips into you faster, harder; uncoiling shortly afterwards.

“Shit, Y/N. Feels too good.” San groans, unloading into the condom. His hands tightly grip your thighs as he gives it one, two more thrusts before coming back down from his high.

Everything feels so beautiful, yet intimately rushed. So, so good yet equally so, so bad for you.

Before you can even say anything, San lowers himself to give you a kiss on the lips. He kisses you for awhile before slipping himself out and grabbing a napkin to wrap the condom in. He quietly takes another few napkins to help clean up, wiping you gently before moving onto himself and plopping onto your bed next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes closed as he regulates his breathing.

“Mhm.”

“Good?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles at your response, pulling you into his arms while you pull the sheets over the both of you. “Definitely worn out, though.”

“Yeah, same.” He kisses the top of your head. “Mind if I crash here for a bit? I don’t mind leaving too, if it makes you uncomfortable. Just let me know.”

“No, you’re good. I don’t mind, San.”

“Was hoping you’d say that.” You chuckle, adjusting your position to comfortably lay on San and fall asleep on his chest.

This is when you start to regret ever giving San the attention, your number, everything.

Because now that you know him a little more, San has become your kryptonite.

After that night, you woke up to an empty bedside— almost no signs of San entirely in your studio. Though it made your heart clench a little bit, part of you knew you wouldn’t be waking up to him.

For work, for other reasons.

Other reasons being that maybe, he really just did want you the one time. And the thought lingered for a little longer when he took awhile to text you that day, your mind running through all the worst possible scenarios during the hours.

▹ FLASHBACK

You slept like a baby after what felt like years, warmth of the sheets still engulfing you as your eyes flutter open. The sun leaves a trail down your sheets, everything quiet; still. When you turn, you find that San is gone— the dip on that side of the bed long gone, his clothes gone, waterbottle gone.

It was like he was never here in the first place.

Your clothes are set neatly off on the edge of the bed instead of the floor. And god, it feels kinda lonely without San. It’s your first telltale sign of attachment, though you know you shouldn’t be at that point after one intimate night with him.

But, it’s hard.

You check your phone and there aren’t any new texts besides Jongho and his need to send you random Instagram reels or TikToks. You lay in bed for a bit longer, letting out a soft sigh when you catch yourself wondering about San in that way. You shut your eyes for a little more, hoping you’ll be able to shake off the ‘what if’s’ with a couple of more hours of sleep.

Meanwhile, San tiredly walks into the office a bit past 10am, hopping straight into his first meeting of the day. It lasts an hour before he’s finally able to walk to the kitchen to grab his first [and much needed] cup of coffee.

“What the fuck happened to you last night, Mr. Suave?” Wooyoung comes beside him, waiting to get his cup of coffee refilled.

“I walked Y/N home.” San smirks.

“Yeah, obviously.” Wooyoung slightly glares at him. “You’re not slick, dumbass. You fucked, didn’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Wow, I’m your bestfriend and you’re asking me that question?” Wooyoung lets out a little ‘pfft’ before playfully shoving San aside to finally get his refill. “I’ll take that as a yes. What’s the deal with you and Miss Crimson, anyway?”

“I like seeing her.” San shrugs. “I like her company.”

“You barely know her outside of the strip club.”

“I believe that’s the point of getting to know her.” San says in a very matter-of-a-fact tone.

“Dude, I didn’t think you’d actually go for her.” San raises his brow.

“Why is everyone saying that? What’s so wrong about it?”

“Nothing! I really just thought you were trying toot it and boot it.”

“Hm.” All San can do is hum while he stirs the stirrer around in his cup.

“But what about Noelle? You guys have that weird, toxic ex relationship thingy going on.” Wooyoung almost visibly shudders at the thought of their complicated relationship. So much back and forth, lying, getting in each other’s beds just to fulfill a need even though they don’t mean it for shit.

Yeah, toxic.

“Yeah, no. I’m done with that.”

“Mm, but you’ve said that before. You mean it? Like you’re actually over her because you genuinely like Y/N? Or, you’re done with it until you cave again?”

“I’m done with it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Wooyoung takes a sip of his coffee. “I saw her texting you again.”

“I’m trying to tell her it’s done with.”

“Don’t see the urgency though, Mr. I-like-Y/N-and-I-enjoy-her-company. Out here breaking hearts in true Choi San fashion.”

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“Okay.” Wooyoung laughs, leaving him in the kitchen. San sighs to himself, a little tired, stressed even, about the whole Noelle situation. Truthfully, Wooyoung is right. Him and Noelle have too much history, too much baggage. Too much of that toxic shit. San is partially to blame because he does crawl back to her, he does cave pretty easily. And it’s not even because San wants to get back with her, no. He knows they can’t work out. All they do is bring out the worst in each other.

But, Noelle is the only thing he’s known for awhile. She fills his void pretty well because it’s familiar territory.

He’s done with it, though. He swears. He’s confused and not entirely sure where he sees this going right now, but you are intriguing. He sees you and his curiosity skyrockets. He wants to know more about you, and after last night, he feels like he can’t get enough of you. He wants more, and he’ll continue to show you that.

▹ END

“Yo.” Jongho’s eyes are barely peeking over the screen on the FaceTime call.

“What’s up?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just hanging out. Eating some lunch.” You continue to poke at the salad you made. “How’s work?”

“Good, I guess. I’m grabbing some food right now from the shop down the street. How’s loverboy been?”

“Would you stop calling him that?”

“Well, what else is he, Y/N?” Jongho laughs a bit.

“Not my loverboy.”

“Says you even though he drops by to bring you food and calls you nonstop.”

“He doesn’t call me nonstop.”

“Sorry, once a day.” He gives you a look. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No. He went to the club once last week. Said he’s been busy again with work. I feel like it’s something else, though.”

“Mmm.” Jongho hums. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear you from here. What is it?”

“He’s just been kinda weird lately.”

“Distant?”

“Yeah. Maybe it is just work.”

“He’s probably just got way too much on his plate.”

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about it like this too much.” You finish up your salad. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Mm, okay. Well. Are you doing your usual shift at the club later?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it been? Wanna hang out tomorrow before your shift?” He slightly pushes the phone away after placing his order and paying at the cashier.

“It’s the same old.” You sigh. “I’m down for that though.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you.”

“Jongho.”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing San makes me question myself. I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“In what way?”

“I just feel ashamed. It makes me wanna look for a different job and leave the club.”

“Well, okay. Are you still happy at the club, or do you wanna do something else?”

“I’m happy but I feel like I could do better.”

“Because of San or because of you? Kinda important to differentiate. If you’re still happy but feel like you could do better for you, then great! But, if you wanna do better just to impress San and do it for him, then no.”

“I feel so stupid. I mean, he drops me off at home. We see each other from time to time–”

“Have sex with each other from time to time–”

“Jongho!”

“What?” He laughs.

“You’re in public!”

“So?! It’s natural human behavior. My god.” He laughs a bit more. “I’m not wrong though.”

“It’s so dumb. I don’t even know what this is. Probably not even something to be questioning my life like this.”

“Has San ever said anything to make you feel that way?”

“No. In fact, he’s supportive about everything and didn’t make me feel terrible about my past decisions.”

“Then you’re overthinking again.” He thanks the staff before grabbing his bag of food. “Y/N, what did I tell you? Just let things be. Don’t make any rash decisions or start assuming things if everything is fine.”

“But is everything fine?”

“It sounds like it to me. He seems like a nice guy. You might wanna have that conversation about what you two are later on if things really haven’t progressed yet, but otherwise, I truly think he’s a nice guy and he’s probably just busy.”

“Jongho–” Suddenly, a few knocks come to your door, throwing you off guard mid-call.

“Guess that’s my cue to go. Text me about tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You say right before ending the call. You set your bowl aside in the kitchen before looking through the peephole on the door. To your surprise [or not], San is standing there on his phone with a small bag in hand.

“Hey.” You say, as you let him in. He smiles, but San doesn’t respond right away with the same enthusiasm. Instead, he shifts his attention to the text that came through on his phone before tucking it away and smiling at you.

“Hey. Sorry.” He hands you a small bag. “I bring pastries.”

“Mm, more pastries.” You tease with a giggle. “Thanks. What brings you here?”

“Sorry, I meant to text you but I forgot. I just wanted to see you since I haven’t been able to for a bit.” He kisses you on the cheek before making his way to your couch.

“Work’s been crazy, hm?” He sighs and leans his head back.

“Uh, yeah. It has been. But, it’s finally the weekend and I can kick back for a bit.” His hand comes up to run your back while you dig through the pastries he bought. “Did you eat already?”

“Mm, yeah. I just made a small salad. I’m not too hungry. Was on the phone with Jongho for a bit.”

“I see. You should eat a little more before your shift.”

“I will.” You look at him. “Are you guys going to the club tonight?” He nods.

“Mingi said he needs it.” You chuckle.

“Do you need it, too?”

“Kinda, but I’m here with you already and I get you all to myself.”

“You do that at the club, too.” You tease.

“Can’t help it.” San quietly looks at you while his arm is loosely around your waist. You observe him for a bit, trying to see if you can read into him or find any obvious signs of what else has been stressing him lately. He’s the same, except more tired, not as talkative or playful like he usually is. Your gut tells you it’s something deeper than work and you’re not sure how you’ll figure him out.

“San.”

“Mhm?”

“You sure it’s just been work stressing you out?” He leans forward to meet your gaze with a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t really been myself lately.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I missed you, though. I really missed you.” His finger is tracing soft circles against your hip. He dips forward to place a gentle kiss right below your earlobe, his soft, pink lips sending tingles down your spine. You shouldn’t be buckling this fast around San, but god, does he have you wrapped around his finger. He places a kiss at the corner of your lips and you instantly feel like jelly.

You missed him, too.

And you want him. Badly.

Before you know it, San is sitting up against the wall, watching you bounce on his dick like the good girl you are. He’s watching through hooded eyes; glued to the way your tits bounce, the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you moan for him like all of this was made for you and you only.

“Fuck.” San groans, hands on your hips to guide you and slam you down onto his length. “You know how to ride me so well.” He watches as you begin to roll your hips against him, taking more control while riding him; it's pure ecstasy. Your moans, your movements, everything about it is just.. addicting.

You have such a captivating presence, and San can't help but lose himself in you.

“Baby, if you keep working me like that, you’ll make me cum.” He moans, head resting back against the wall. Your hand rests on his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as you feel yourself bubbling with pleasure. Your clit is rubbing against him deliciously, and you can’t help but sit back and ride him at a different angle.

“Sannie.” You moan loudly. “Ohhhhshit.” Your words melt together when you suddenly feel yourself unraveling quicker than expected. “I’m cumming— fuck, fuck, fuck—“ You repeat like a mantra, hips working sloppily against him as you come undone; the sounds bouncing off the walls nothing short of pornographic.

“That’s my good girl.” San loves watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way you moan loudly, the way he could hear how wet you are. Once you’ve come down from your high, San wastes no time getting you on your fours— face down, ass up. He gives your ass a good knead, spitting onto your pussy before lining himself back up at your entrance. He pushes himself in and works at a steady rhythm, giving your ass a good smack. You let out another moan, tears pricking your lids at how sensitive you’re feeling right now. He’s fucking into you so good, your ass is clapping against him. “You look so good like this, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this, hm?” He gives your ass another smack, cheek red from the impact. “Does it feel good?”

“So good, San.” He moans loudly as he continues to piston into you.

“Your pussy was made for me.” He groans. “Whose is it, Y/N?”

“Y-yours.” You choke, cheek digging deep into the mattress.

“Louder, babygirl. I can’t hear you.”

“Yours!”

“There you go.” He grunts, ass feeling numb from San fucking into you. The way he’s driving into you and hitting your spot at this angle feels so good, you feel the pleasure bubbling in your pit again. You raise yourself up a bit to rub at your clit, pushing your orgasm forward as San’s movements begin to get sloppy. “Shit, Y/N.”

“San, cum for me.” You egg him on as he begins to pant. Hearing him praise you and call your name pushes you over the edge once more, hands gripping at the sheets while you shudder from the second orgasm taking over. San quickly pulls out and unloads onto your ass, back.

“God.” He huffs as he gives himself one last pump and pants heavily. “So good for me. You okay, pretty girl?” His hand comes up your back, leaving a random trail of kisses along the way.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath.

“Let me clean you up. Don’t move.” He quickly runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes. “Gonna be kinda cold. I’m sorry.” He apologizes in advance before taking a wipe to your back.

“That feels kinda nice.” San chuckles, allowing you to lay back on your bed first before slipping in next to you post-cleanup.

“You feel nice.” You laugh, laying your head on his chest while he grabs his phone.

“So, what time are you guys heading to the club tonight?”

“I don’t know. Probably between 9-10pm?”

“You know there’s an event tonight, right?”

“I heard.” San laughs. “Some male dancers are guesting at the club?”

“Yeah. They’ll be on the second stage, though.” San nods, a few texts coming into his phone. You can’t help but glaze over the previews, back to back texts coming in from a ‘Noelle.’ The messages aren’t too lengthy, but she is texting him quite a few times and the previews alone are enough to make your stomach twist and turn.

It’s making you anxious, and for some reason, your gut tells you this Noelle is significant to San.

He’s not trying to pay attention to it right now though, and it’s probably just because he’s in your company post-sex. He briefly looks at the messages at the top, thumb coming up to swipe them away.

“Is it just you guys?” You ask, wondering if San would open up to you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. Unless Mingi invites other people.”

“Mmm, okay.”

“I’m excited to see you on stage again.” He looks down at you with a smirk.

“Yeah right.”

“Swear. Everyone knows I’m only there for you. It’s kinda nice to show it off.”

“Show what off?”

“That you’re mine.” He winks, making your heart melt into a puddle. You hate that San gives you these signals, but there hasn’t been much to it besides seeing each other occasionally outside of the club and fucking each other’s brains out.

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who said I didn’t mean it?!” You shake your head and turn to your side, now going through your own phone. San gives you a kiss on the shoulders, hand coming up to rub your arm while he continues to plant random kisses at the nape of your neck, below your ear, jaw.

“Sannie, what are you doing?” You giggle, ticklish from the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Kinda want you again.”

“Are you serious?” You turn to look at him and he smirks.

“Can’t help it. You drive me crazy.” His hand comes down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Wanna keep taking care of you.”

“Do you, now?” You tease, letting San continue to kiss you; hand coming down and ghosting your clit. You decide to let San have you once more before he’s struggling to part from your lips, even as he’s about to head out the door.

You blush watching him leave, excited to show off and see him tonight.

The night comes rather quickly because the club is incredibly packed with all sorts of people making their way in to see all of the dancers. You’re having to entertain on stage, deliver drinks and give a few private dances. It’s nothing beyond what you’re already used to doing, but the clientele is booming tonight and you’re constantly moving around all ends of the club.

It’s a little past 10pm when you catch wind of Mingi, Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung. And for a minute, your eyes light up. San immediately plops onto a chair, legs spread as he smirks. He gestures for you to come over with his finger and lightly taps his lap, making you giggle to yourself while you continue to perform a few tricks on the pole.

“Gorgeous.” San eyes the high-cut bodysuit sitting on your body, showing off all your curves beautifully.

“You made it.” You crouch down in front of him, hands trailing up his legs.

“Of course, why would I miss out some more?” He winks, stuffing a few bills in the slit of your bodysuit while you stand lean towards his ear.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“You?” You laugh.

“Cliché.”

“Kidding, baby.” He bites onto his bottom lip. “Can we get shots of whiskey?”

“All four of you?”

“Yes please, pretty lady.” Hongjoong smirks. “Bodysuit looks good on you.”

“Openly hitting on San’s woman is crazy.” Wooyoung laughs loudly.

“Just complimenting her.”

“Yeah, keep it up.” San teases Hongjoong.

“Thank you. I’ll be back.” You smile at Hongjoong before stepping over to the bar to grab their shots. At this point, it feels like everything happens so quickly; the following moments, the rest of the night— all a blur. When you return to the four, they’ve added a few more to the group. And this time, it’s a group of 5 girls— one that is in a heated conversation with San off to the side. You slow your pace, watching as she clings around his waist, but he gently shoves her off and shakes his head. He heads back to his seat and she welcomes herself on his lap, ignoring everything that he had just done to her moments ago. San doesn’t seem entirely pleased being that he’s been trying to distance himself from her, but to no avail— you’ve already returned and he panics.

“Here.” You hand them their drinks, handing San’s last.

“Noelle, seriously. Can you please get off my lap?” Noelle. You can’t help but feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, though you’re trying your best to brush it off in the heat of the moment.

“You’re such a killjoy.” She whines, sitting on the edge of the chair.

“Thank you, love.” His look is unreadable when he reaches for his glass and so is yours. But, San knows you saw everything and he knows it all looks wrong. It, all of this, must seem so fucked up to you right now and he wishes he could just pull you aside to clear up the air.

“Thank you, Miss Crimson.” Mingi raises his shot glass to you.

“Is that the stripper San is into?” You overhear one of the girls ask, followed by a:

“He’s not serious, right? Her?” Noelle scoffs and you subtly roll your eyes, getting ready to head back to the bartender. You weren’t gonna let this girl get to you. Not today.

“Have a good night.” Is what you tell Wooyoung in passing, making him flash San a look shortly afterwards.

“Don’t think she’s too happy about Noelle being here.”

“I didn’t know they were actually coming either.” San glares at him, trying his best to shake off Noelle and continue to create some distance. He truthfully didn’t think Noelle and her friends were coming along. Mingi had briefly mentioned the event to them, sliding in a stupid joke about how much San loves coming solely because of you. She didn’t take it lightly, hence why she decided to come along even though their initial plan was to head to the regular club down the street.

When San sees Noelle, he’s pretty irritated. The last time she was texting him, she was blowing up his phone about shit from the past and their relationship. Quite frankly, he no longer has energy to deal with her and he’s tired of the back and forth. He doesn’t wanna start any issues tonight since it seems too late to brush them off and he doesn’t wanna dampen the mood. He knows how clingy she gets and he knows how she can act when she feels him slowly slipping from her grip, especially if they’re together in person. The last thing San wanted to do was upset you, nor did he want you to think of him as an asshole who only wanted you for one thing.

That was not his plan.

He knows you’re not happy and he knows he fucked up for even trying to brush this off, for hiding Noelle when he had no reason to.

“You aren’t actually into the stripper are you?” She questions San and he furrows his brows.

“It literally isn’t any of your business.”

“Wow, so you are? I came out tonight, hoping we could—”

“Oh god, enough of that shit. Not here.” Wooyoung sighs. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves, that’s the whole point of tonight, right?” Wooyoung tries to push his bestfriend to the main stage, leaving the girls to enjoy the men on the second stage. You’ve continued to deliver a few drinks around the other room before stepping back onto the main stage. In your peripherals, you can see San eyeing you; almost pleading for you to swing by his way.

Except, you don’t, and you start to entertain a few men on the other side of the stage. San feels his blood boil a little when he sees you giving your attention to another man, knowing full well you were doing this on purpose.

And you were. You weren’t exactly sorry about it.

Because you didn’t have time for this bullshit, and your job still needed to get done. At the end of the day, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

The reality is hitting you more and more tonight.

It makes you feel stupid for having thought otherwise, for letting the possibility live longer than it should’ve.

You’re not sure if you have time to entertain someone who has all that baggage.

San comes around to see you in better view, watching as you crouch down with your legs cocked open; swiping two fingers across your tongue before running it over your [barely] clothed pussy. San clenches his jaw when the man in front of you leans forward with a huge smirk on his lips, holding a roll of bills in his hand.

“Uh oh.” Wooyoung instigates. “I told you so. In true Choi San fashion.”

“Stop that.” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Noelle’s here, hoping she could be the one to go home with you tonight. And that one—“ He points at you over his glass. “Thinks you’re toying with her emotions. Pick a fucking battle.”

“I already told you I was done with the whole Noelle thing. She doesn’t get it for whatever reason.” San slightly groans and clicks his teeth. “Why did Mingi invite them, anyway?”

“I don’t know? I can’t control that boy’s mouth. Besides, you know he’s been trying to get with Donna after those dates didn’t go well.” San sees you dip into a private booth with the guy, shutting the curtains closed without looking his way. He takes a sip of his drink, stepping closer to the stage to try and enjoy himself– ignoring the possibilities of what’s going on behind that curtain.

The club feels suffocating, and he wants out.

Especially when you seem to be taking your time in the booth.

“You wanna head out? Noelle and the girls wanna head down the street now. Said they’re bored of the guys already.” Mingi asks, pointing at the girls getting ready to head out to the next club down the street.

“Already?” Hongjoong cocks a brow up. “We literally just got here.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re over it.”

“I mean, whatever. Just don’t ask me to leave the other club hella early.” Joong rolls his eyes. “Whose bright fucking idea was to invite them anyway?” He glares at Mingi.

“Sorry! I wanted to be nice and extend the invite. I didn’t think they’d be over it so quickly.”

“Right, you wanted to be nice and get into Donna’s pants.”

“Do you wanna stay back?” Wooyoung asks in San’s ear, but all San can do is shrug. “We don’t have to go with them.”

“Let’s just go, I’ll never hear the end of it if we stay back.” Wooyoung simply looks at him in return.

“Let’s go!” Mingi yells. San subtly looks back to try and see if you’re out of the booth, but Mingi is already shoving him towards the door– towards Noelle and her friends.

“Choi San, hurry up!” Noelle whines as she waits for him.

“Noelle, you don’t have to wait for me. You can go with your friends.”

“Why are you acting so mean tonight?” She tugs on his wrist, but he snatches it out of her grip. “It definitely can’t be about her, right?”

“Go have fun with your friends and I’ll worry about my own.” San doesn’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he’s truly tired of the back and forth between Noelle. He hates that she acts this way, and he hates that she’s here. He feels like the night has gone to waste because he won’t be able to fully enjoy himself.

On top of that, you’re livid with him.

Speaking of you— You’ve kept yourself close to the pole even though your client has asked you for a lap dance. Once, twice, maybe even thrice. He’s attractive, but your mind is glued to San and how terrible this night ended up playing out for you. Luckily, the client doesn’t seem to fight much against it; as long as he gets his fix of you somehow, he’ll take it. Tonight’s one of those nights where you’ll stay for the full 45 to get the extra money, to hide away from the rest of the crowd.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Invert and lean back.

Five, six.

Gently fall into the splits.

Seven, eight.

Bounce your ass on the stage.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He says, gently palming himself through his pants, forcing you to mask the disgust you feel watching him openly do that. Though, you’ve seen worse and you’ve trained yourself to have the thick skin needed in this industry. Right now, it hits differently. Because of San, because of Noelle.

Because of everything.

“You sure you can’t come down here and get on daddy’s lap? I think I’ve slipped you enough money to at least get a lapdance.”

“Sorry, not doing that tonight, love.”

“Aw, why not? Not even for me?”

“Not for you. Or them.” You say, bending over to at least give him a peek of what he wants.

“You sure you’re not saving it all for someone else?”

“Nope.”

“Gonna have to come back on a better night then.” He bites his bottom lip. “You’re my favorite. I swear you drive me crazy.” The statement is enough to trigger San’s voice in your head, causing you to rush through the last bit of your pole dance before thanking the man for his time and tip.

When you step out of the booth, you no longer see San and his group and it instantly makes your heart clench. You didn’t know what to expect tonight, but you definitely didn’t expect San to leave so quickly with his friends—

With Noelle and her friends.

Now, you’re back to square one. You feel like a mere distraction, something that temporarily fills the void; nothing more, nothing less. You quickly head to the back to get some air and a moment to yourself, finding a few texts from San:

san: Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t know they were coming. mingi just invited them and didn’t really say anything about it.

san: i know you’re probably wondering about her and i can explain. it’s really not what it looks like.

san: let me know when you’re off? i wanna take you home still.

san: i wanna talk to you and see you. please.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you shut off the phone and ignore the texts. Even if you wanted to answer back, even if it fucking pains you to re-run through those texts, you keep your head up and throw on a brave face for the rest of your shift.

San is still your kryptonite, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

You need to leave quickly enough to avoid running into San tonight.

Guess you’d be taking your usual walk alone.

You managed to dodge San and his friends on your way home that one awful night, ignoring his calls even as you’ve gotten comfy and tucked in your bed. San continued to blow up your phone into the next day until he realized you weren’t gonna answer him anytime soon.

And it sucked.

But, you needed to hold your ground. You needed to go back to the Y/N who worried about her own, the Y/N who didn’t let anything faze her even if she was hurt by loved ones, by friends.

You needed to go back to the Y/N who kept it real with herself and was proud of how far she’s come despite the ups and downs.

You hadn’t seen San come to the club, and it was probably his way of giving you the space that you indirectly asked for. And indeed, you needed this.

You needed to go back to the old Y/N and reprioritize.

“Hey baby.” Mia says, hand on the small of your back as you dab a bit of lip gloss onto your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’re you doing?” She brushes your hair back and gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’ve seen better days.” You let out a chuckle.

“You haven’t texted him back?” You shake your head.

“No. I don’t really know what to say. I just feel kinda dumb. Maybe we were just meant to be a thing in passing.”

“Don’t say that. I know he had some feelings for you, and I know the situation was unique. But, nobody would go through all that effort if it didn’t matter to them.”

“Mm, yeah, He just has some baggage he has to deal with and I don’t think I have time or energy for that.”

“For all you know, it could just be her.”

“But, why hasn’t he officially let her go then?” Mia pouts a bit.

“I think he’s over it. He didn’t seem all that interested in her at all.” She nods. “Talk to him, hun. Let him explain. It might just be a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She gives you a reassuring smile.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, babe. Thanks.” You give her a toothless smile, letting out a small squeal when she slaps your ass.

“Now get out there and do your thing, the clients are waiting.” You chuckle and shake your head, taking one last look in the mirror before you head out to the main stage. You strut your way across the floor, doing your usual sweet talk with a few of the men lining the stage. You take the stage for a bit and do your usual routine, letting them slip their bills wherever they can under your gear, or shower the stage with a few more extra tips. Just as you were getting into the swing of things, you catch San walking in by himself. You almost lose track of your thoughts, distracted by how good he looks. He’s sporting simple slacks and a gray-striped button up with chelsea boots, rolex on his wrist. He looks around the club before his eyes land on yours, and you suddenly feel like you’ve lost the ability to move, to dance.

▹ FLASHBACK

“I’ve never seen you this sulky. It’s kinda annoying.” Wooyoung plops next to San on the couch, watching as he slouches and lazily texts back on his phone.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m assuming she’s not answering your texts or calls yet?”

“Nope.”

“Down bad.”

“Are you here to help or to get on my nerve?” San glares at his bestfriend.

“Why don’t you just go see her?”

“I don’t wanna cross boundaries and be in her space, especially if she’s already not answering my texts or calls.”

“Maybe this is what she needs, though. She’s probably still assuming shit about Noelle. Which, by the way, I hope you ended it. For real.”

“I did. That’s why she was hella upset during the last half of the club and I left.”

“I thought you left to go after Y/N. Where exactly did you go?”

“I mean, partially. I was gonna go after her and bring her home, but I was too late. The other half of me was pissed off because Noelle kept crying and trying to gaslight me. I told her I didn’t wanna do this anymore. Was tired of it. I told her we just don’t work and it’s time for us to move on.”

“‘Bout time you realized.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “I know you have love for her and I know she meant a lot to you, but that girl is crazy. You continued to feed into it, too.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Just go see Y/N, dude. You look terrible.” San flips him off. “I mean it. If you want shit to change, then keep taking initiative.”

“I just don’t wanna scare her off. I already fucked up enough with this whole Noelle thing.”

“Damn, what did Y/N do to you?” Wooyoung laughs. “I truly didn’t think you’d end up finding your boo thing at the strip club. I’d like another thank you if this all goes well.” He smirks. “Thank you Wooyoung for making us go to the club on my birthday.” He says in a sing-song tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” San sighs. “I’ll probably head to the club tonight and try to talk to her.”

“Want me to come? Moral support.” He shakes his head.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be good.”

▹ END

You quickly head off the stage and head to the bar, switching gears to take a break from the stage. You scurry along, hoping you aren’t making it too obvious that you’re trying to deflect and avoid San yet again.

But, he knows.

“Y/N, hey. Wait.” San says as you brush past him, hand gently coming to your wrist. You wiggle out of his grip, giving him a look as you continue on to the next room. “Y/N.” He continues to call, hurriedly following after you. “Y/N, please.” He says as he comes to your side while you gather a few drinks onto your tray.

“San, what? I’m working.” You respond, still keeping your attention to the drinks.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because.”

“Because, what? I didn’t mean to leave early without saying anything to you that night. I wanted to come back and take you home.”

“Oh, but Noelle didn’t let you, right?”

“Y/N, please don’t do that. That’s not even what happened—” San has his hand around your wrist again, his eyes pleading for you to hear him out.

“Aye, come on, my guy.” An unfamiliar man from the crowd comes in between you and San, ripping his hand away from your wrist. “Care to share? Stop being so selfish and gatekeeping her—”

“The fuck are you?”

“I see you come into this club with your friends, acting all high and mighty. You heard what I said.” He steps closer towards San. “Stop being so fucking selfish with her, hm? She’s for the crowd, baby’s meant to be shared—” The man suddenly slaps your ass and it turns a switch on for San. San pushes him away, causing the other man to lose his footing before attempting to swing at him.

“Stop that!” You try to yell, hoping it’d somehow break them apart. San is quick to dodge the first swing, but he gets unlucky with the second. San is quick to regain his composure, throwing a punch to him and causing him to fall to the ground. He towers over him and continues to lay a few more punches while you yell at security for assistance. “Quit it! San, stop! Stop it!” You repeat, prying him off of the man on the floor. “San!” You grip his bicep and pull him back.

“Fucking idiot.” San spits, hand coming to his jaw to ease the soreness.

“Get them out of here!” You tell security and San furrows his brows at you.

“Y/N—”

“Out. Now!” You repeat yourself, following after security as they get their hands on both San and the other guy, escorting them out of the club. One shoves the other man through the front entrance, while the other shoves San out of the side entrance. You’re already following behind, signaling for security that it’s okay for him to leave you alone with San. He gives you a curt nod as he walks around the corner— giving you enough distance that allows privacy, but also allows him to step in if necessary. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that, Y/N. Don’t ask me that fucking question.”

“It’s my job.” You remind him. “I meant what are you doing here?! Why did you come here, San?”

“I came here to talk to you!” His tone raises. “You aren’t answering my texts or calls, and all I wanna do is make this right. What do you expect me to do?”

“Let it go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, San. What is it to you, anyway?”

“Are you serious?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “If you would just give me one second to talk to you—“ He pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N. All I want to do is talk to you and explain. I don’t wanna leave things like this.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to you.

“Then talk.” You cross your arms and shift your weight from one foot to another.

“Y/N, me and Noelle are done with. We’ve been done with for awhile. She’s my ex and we’ve gone through some shit but it’s over with.” He lets out a breath, the air cold and crisp against your skin. “Mingi invited them that night, and I just didn’t wanna cause any issues between us and ruin the night. She threw herself on me and I had been asking her to stop. I didn’t ask her to do that, nor did I want to entertain it. I shouldn’t have left with them though, I knew how that would look, too. I’m sorry. I promise you it meant nothing. I even told Noelle she needed to move on that night. I came back to the club, but you had already left.”

“San.” You shake your head. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why me?”

“Y/N, I really do like you.”

“But, that’s the problem. You don’t even see the issue with this.”

“What issue?!

“Us! That’s the fucking issue, San! We come from such different lives, does that not bother you? We’ll never be on the same page, we’ll never work.” San furrows his brows, trying his hardest to take the blow even though it hurts to.

“Why would you say it like that? I don’t care about how different our lives are. That doesn’t matter to me–”

“It does to me!”

“Why?! I don’t care what people think and so shouldn’t you! Wouldn’t we be enough?”

“It’s so easy for you to say because you don’t know what it’s like to be on my side of things.”

“Then, let me know!” San raises his voice before running his hand through his hair. “Y/N, I would never take advantage of you. Never in my mind did I ever think of you that way. Why won’t you let me be here for you?”

“Because San, you had me thinking I was stupid. I felt like you were here for one thing, and it made me question everything about myself, my life. I hated feeling that way. I even compared myself to Noelle at one point.”

“She’s nothing to me! I’m sorry for having hid that from you, but I didn’t think much of it at the time since the whole thing caught me off guard. She means nothing to me, and we’re done with. I’m sorry.” For some reason, you are torn. You want to believe San, and there is a small part of you that does. However, you still can’t get over the fact that he still kept her close for lord knows how long. What if he was balancing you both at the same time? How could you know he was for sure over her and that this wasn’t just a phase?

“What if this is just a phase to you, huh? What happens when you realize how much we don’t work? That we’re just too different? That maybe she or someone else is a better fit for you all along.” Your bottom lip trembles and even though you try to hide it, San catches on. “This is my life, and it won’t change for awhile.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth and choosing how I should feel. That’s not how this works. I caught feelings for you, Y/N. Genuinely. None of our differences mattered to me, and it won’t ever. I’m sorry you felt that way and that was never my intention.” San says calmly, but god, is he terrified right now. He is anxious. Nervous. Scared. And as much as you wanna cave, you remember you are outside of the club in the freezing cold.

Arguing with San.

“San, you know what? This is enough.”

“Y/N.” He pleads through his tone.

“Please just go home.” You point at the side door before nervously rubbing at your sides. “We should talk about this another time. Not here.”

“O-okay, so are you gonna answer my texts or calls then?”

“I’ll text you, okay?” You look at him with some remorse. Right now, you don’t think you’re ready to talk to him and you probably need to sort out your thoughts before the next time. Or else, you’ll continue to try blaming him, the situation. You’ll continue to deflect, you’ll continue to let San’s words brush over your head because you aren’t used to this genuine attention— these genuine feelings, genuine intentions.

San doesn’t say anything else, but his expression makes your heart break more. You let out a sigh before turning on your heel to get back into the club and finish your shift. As soon as the door shuts and acts as a barrier between you two, a few tears escape your lids. You quickly brush them away and shake off the feelings, storming out onto the main stage to finish your night strongly.

You need Jongho.

“This fucking sucks.” You tuck your knees to your chest as Jongho sighs and pours you another shot of tequila.

“Why don’t you text him, Y/N? Just talk to him.”

“I’m kinda scared. And nervous.” You take the shot with him.

“Why? He’s literally waiting for you to text him. You’ve just been big sad over him too, don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘hey, can we talk?’ maybe?” Jongho gives you a look before shaking his head. “I love you, but dude. Get it together. You should just talk to him and stop putting yourself through this. You obviously like the guy and he feels the same way. The whole thing with his ex was just a misunderstanding, too. What exactly are you trying to put off?”

“I think I’m just scared. You know how it was with my ex. He wasn’t nice and also made me feel ridiculously stupid and incompetent for my decisions. Even after the break up.”

“Yeah, but he’s your ex for a reason. San is not the same person.” Jongho pours you another shot. “I understand you’re scared. But, you can’t shield yourself off from everything forever. I truly think he’s a genuinely nice guy.”

“Plus, I worry about him too. How would his friends feel about us being serious? His family, his sister?”

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine. San isn’t even worried about that, nor does he seem to care. It doesn’t matter where you come from. They should be able to see what kind of person you are and the heart you have.”

“Mm, yeah. I just worry too much. I don’t want my life to bleed into his and ruin the shit he’s built for himself.”

“It won’t. Jeez, you aren’t a criminal Y/N. You’re great at everything you do and you’re incredibly talented. You have a lot of qualities that could take you far.” There’s another pause, enough for you and Jongho to take the last shot to the neck before you pull out your phone and click on San’s text thread.

“Fuck it.”

“Exactly.” He sips on some soda to wash down the tequila burn. “By the way, I’m never talking about you that way again.” Jongho visibly shudders, making you playfully hit him on the shoulder.

you: hi, sorry for the random text. can we talk?

You toss your phone aside and dig your face into your hands, nervous about the text back. Granted, it’s only been close to a week and a half after the whole thing went down at the club. Time moves so fast that part of you felt terrible for making San wait in general. But, it should be a testimony to how he truly feels about you.

“What if he’s over it?” You groan into your hands.

“Then at least you know, right? You can close that chapter and move on.” Jongho takes a bite of his chicken. “Highly doubt it though.” At this point, the phone dings behind Jongho and he’s quick to grab it for you— flashing you San’s name on the screen.

“Fuck.” You whine.

san: hey. don’t apologize. of course we can. should i swing by your place soon?

“I’ll drop you off in a bit.”

“Are you sure you’re good? I can ask him to pick me up.”

“Actually, yeah. Ask him.” You chuckle as Jongho pours another shot for himself.

you: yeah, but i’m at jongho’s. do you think you can pick me up?

san: yeah i can, love. just send me the address.

“He always gets so sweet. I can’t do this.” You send San Jongho’s address.

“Yes you can!” Jongho responds. “Here, drink.” He pushes your water glass towards you. “So you don’t feel like shit later.”

san: on my way. 20 mins.

“Thanks for the food and drinks. For letting me be a crybaby. You know, the whole nine.” Jongho chuckles and nudges you on the arm.

“I got you, dude. You’re my bestfriend. I won’t let you go through these things alone.”

“I guess I’ll keep you updated?”

“Take your time. And just be honest with him, alright? Be straight up about how you feel with everything.”

“I will.”

When San arrives a bit after 20 minutes, you grab your things and bid your bestfriend farewell. You feel nervous, palms sweating the more you fiddle with your fingers and head down the steps to San’s car. Once you catch wind of him, you pause in your steps just to give yourself a tiny breather before committing and approaching his passenger door. He’s in a black shirt and sweats, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey.” You say as you climb in, San giving you a small smile.

“Hey. You good to go?” You buckle your seatbelt and nod, allowing San to drive off to your studio. “Did you work at the shop today?”

“Mhm, I worked an earlier shift to get off at the same time as Jongho.”

“You guys just hung out?”

“Yep. Drank, ate some food. Talked about some things.”

“Some things?”

“You.” You give him a look and he nods.

“Fair enough.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Work. I’ve been working from home lately since there isn’t much requiring me to come into the office.”

“Been busy?”

“Yup, but I’ve seen worse days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He lets out a small chuckle as he continues to drive on. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet, but nothing feels weird or awkward. It’s surprisingly a comfortable silence and it’s probably due to the fact that you two have missed each other even though you’re both still trying to gather your thoughts.

When he pulls up into a spot on the street, San shuts off the car and immediately runs to your side to help you out. He follows behind as you lead the way, quietly unlocking your door and tossing the keys off to the side. San sits on your couch and lets out a sigh, watching as you plop next to him after grabbing some water.

“Want anything else to drink?”

“I’m okay.” He gives you a small smile. You turn to face him, a leg tucked under the other that’s swung over the edge of the couch.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course.”

“Can we talk about what’s been happening? I just really need you to be honest with me, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Y/N. It was never my intention to make it seem otherwise.”

“Well, after everything, I did feel pretty stupid. You knew I was already doubting myself after I lost my family and friends because of my decisions. For a second, I felt like you tricked me and that I was stupid not to realize you only wanted me for one thing.” San shakes his head, but he continues to let you talk. “I started questioning myself more and I hated the feeling. I knew I couldn’t be enough for you, or that I was completely different from girls in your past. And it felt terrible. I couldn’t help but jump to conclusions that night because who am I compared to her? I’m living such a different life and I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you realized that.” You shrug. “Anyway, I felt shitty because I genuinely had feelings for you even though I was scared. I still am, especially because I don’t know if this is just a phase or what.” You feel the tears pricking your bottom lids again but you do your best to prevent San from catching on. You look down at your hands, fiddling with your sweater sleeves. You feel San shift closer to you, his hand coming up to your cheek.

“Can you look at me please?” Your eyes shift back up to him, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach the moment you two lock eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I really didn’t mean to. That whole thing Noelle—” He sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a ride with her. But meeting you and getting to know you made me realize how much I didn’t wanna be stuck in that anymore. It made me realize how much I craved normalcy with someone, something that doesn’t have to be so sad and toxic all the damn time.” He lets out a breath. “I know it sounds dumb that it took me all of this to realize, but I mean it. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in such a long time. It feels good.” He does a subtle nod. “I feel happy and good around you.”

“San, you just scare me.” A few tears stream down your cheeks and San is the first to catch them; gently wiping it away while he keeps his eyes locked onto yours. “Our lives are so different, I can’t help but worry about how this is gonna make things turn out in the future. Your family, your friends—”

“My friends are fine, they know how I feel about you. And my family knows they can’t dictate everything about my life. You—” He pauses. “Y/N, you aren’t any different just because of what you do. What matters is the kind of person you are, how you genuinely make me feel. None of that matters.”

“You know it isn’t gonna be that easy.”

“So be it. I know you’re scared, but I’m with you on this.” He runs his other thumb across your lip. “We can figure this out, okay? We can take this slow and figure it out together. I’ll stop heading to the club with the guys and be there for you in many other ways. Just know that I’m gonna support you no matter what, I’m not like everyone else. Fuck all of them.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. You can’t help but lean into his hand and let out a shaky breath, kissing the palm of his hand before returning your gaze on him. His smile grows, making him plant an eager kiss on your forehead, to the tip of your nose.

Lips.

“Are we okay?” He whispers against your lips and you nod. “Can I have you then?” He whispers against your lips in between another kiss. “Make it up to you?” Another kiss. “Show you how I really feel?” You nod, giving San leverage to scoop you into his arms and carry you to your bed. He gently lays you down and is quick to shed off your clothes, admiring every inch of you. San tosses his glasses onto your nightstand before placing random trails of kisses along your body, kissing every scar, every curve, every tattoo; everything about you still continues to drive him crazy. Today, San takes his time. Though he’s eager to show you how you make him feel, he decides he’s gonna take his time with you.

Even when he laps at your pussy, your clit, making you cum within minutes of being positioned in between your thighs.

Even when he rocks his hips into you— it’s a slow and steady pace, enough to make you feel every inch of him.

Even when he sits back onto his knees, letting you ride him.

His hands run up your sides while your hands are tangled in his hair, rolling your hips against him steadily, slowly, letting him feel every inch of you. He moans against your neck before placing wet kisses on the surface, hands now gripping tighter as he feels himself nearing his high. Everything is so intimate, so raw, so close— San can’t keep his lips off of you and hearing your moans bounce off of the walls adds to the pleasure. Your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, causing you to bite onto his bottom lip before tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He groans in between open-mouthed kisses. “Be my good girl and cum with me.” You furrow your brows in pleasure, hands gripping his jaw as you continue to deeply kiss him, your climax heightening at your gut.

“Sannie.” You whine, unable to form any thoughts.

“You know how to fuck me so well. You’re perfect.” He hisses, the pleasure almost feeling too intense with how much he’s having to hold back. You start to rock your hips at a messier pace when you feel yourself climbing, moan loudly and gripping the ends of San’s hair when you finally come undone. He almost whines when he feels you twitch against him, hissing at how good you feel wrapped around him. San quickly lays you back and pounds into you, releasing his seed and painting your walls white.

The both of you stay stationary for a second, panting and regulating your breathing once you’ve come back down from cloud nine. San brushes the hair away from your face and adoringly looks into your eyes, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly sliding himself out of you.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” He jogs over to your bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for the water to reach a perfect temperature before grabbing you.

While in the shower, San makes sure to lather your body with soap, giving your back and shoulders a good massage before rinsing off. You follow suit, giggling when you plop a few bubbles on his nose and cheeks. The best thing about the shower is that San doesn’t pressure you for more, no. He showers you with kisses, surely showing you just exactly what you mean to him through the action alone.

After the shower, you climb into bed with San, letting him take you into his arms while you turn on some music to softly fill the background. He gently strokes your hair, and hums along, keeping you close in his warm embrace.

“San.”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I want to do in the future?”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna own my own dance studio and teach. Help people grow their confidence and embrace their sexiness.” San chuckles. “You know? People get shy about these things or hide because they feel like they can’t dance or be sexy.”

“You’d be an amazing teacher for that.” You giggle.

“Hopefully one day.”

“We’ll make it happen. No matter how long it takes, hm?” He hums. “I got you.” You look up at San and stare at the galaxies he holds in those beautiful, brown orbs. What you did to deserve someone like San, you’ll never know— but you’ll take it as a gift from the universe; a gift that shows how proud the universe is of you for never giving up and for staying true to yourself.

For once, everything feels right. Everything seems to be where it should be. Everything in your life, as it is now, is what’s meant to be. And out of all the changes the universe has brought you, you’re at least thankful for this; for that moment San walked into the club, for the moment you took the first leap.

“You got me?” You tease and he nods.

“I got you.”

▹ taglist: @itsvxlentine @vantediary @certifiedmoa @asjkdk @bintificreads @frobin4ever @persphonesorchid

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jensthwa · 25 days

Text

i was made for lovin' you (PSH x reader)

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

In an attempt to grasp at his youth, Seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. When it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. Maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.

PAIRING: new bike owner!seonghwa x afab mechanic!reader.

GENRE: strangers to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 20k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both seonghwa's and reader's), wooyoung being a little shit for the umpteenth time + jongho, yeosang AND hongjoong (omg), that feeling you get when your youth is ending, midlife crisis! (or so yunho says), a loooot of work related/motorcycle plot, flirting, seonghwa losing his rizz, reader is adopted so that may count as a trigger warning for some of you, shitty exes, crying a bit but not really, pet and nicknames (ghost, dear), they almost get caught in a thunderstorm, lots of tension, making out, oral ( f & m reciving ), descriptions of the female anatomy, floor AND protected sex ( wrap it up pls ), the ending leads straight up to the next story on this universe so be aware of that.

NOTES: hello everyone! after almost a month in the making, here you have it! THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone, although there's some characters and scenarios you can understand better if you read the last three parts (you can find them in my masterlist). this really didn't need to be so lenghty but it turned out that way for some reason (i'm the mayor of yap town). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: september 02 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68, @e3ellie, @alsomimi

masterlist.

Seonghwa is proud to be the type of person who can just tell what's going on after assessing a situation for a few seconds.

His intuition is something he can rely on and he almost never misses the mark when he makes predictions that he doesn't share with anyone else in case it brings anyone down.

As he watches San kissing his girlfriend's cheek and then stare at her like a lovestruck idiot, his mouth quirks up a bit and he quickly hides it behind the soda can he's been nursing for the past couple of minutes.

He's happy it finally happened.

He's also a little butthurt that he didn't get the chance to fully get to know her first.

They've been together for a few months now, maybe four if he recalls correctly. Back then, he danced with her at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment like he didn't know one of his closest friends had been in love with her since they both were in highschool.

He didn't tell anyone, but a part of him did it to see if it would prompt a reaction. And, from what he was told by Wooyoung, it did.

She is his type of person, though. And when he texted her a few days later and she sent in a non-detailed voice note briefly explaining what went down after they all left the party and she stayed behind to help her drunk best friend, he told her he understood and that he kind of already knew.

Or at least, he expected it.

He also explained to San that, although his intentions with his girlfriend (before she was his girlfriend) were mostly genuine, he’s obviously not in love with her.

After all, they only met that one time and now, back in San and Woo’s shared apartment for what feels like an overdue reunion after months of busy schedules and adult life, he can assure them both with a nod and smile that he is, indeed, happy for them.

He treasures admiration for those who are able to find love in this modern age, anyway.

Now there's two couples in the group. Seonghwa has never been the type of guy who chases relationships and has a goal set on when and how to get married. He simply exists and welcomes the opportunities life gives him as they come.

That's how he got his job at Room for More. His professor gave him a recommendation letter after finishing the last presentation of his career and suggested he try his luck at his colleague’s company.

And now he's actually doing what he studied to do and he's loving it. Working in interior design and fighting minimalism while he's at it?

Incredible. Life could not be better.

Kind of.

As rare as those types of opportunities are, he truly believes it is way easier to find a niche profession people are actually comfortable with than it is to find love in modern society.

Life might give you your dream job out of nowhere, but it can also take away the opportunity of finding a partner you can celebrate your success with.

He never even told his friends when he got the job. Only Hongjoong, who then passed on the word to the rest of the group and, after they all congratulated him for it, they quickly moved on to their tesis and focused on not letting their last year of university eat them up while they were at it.

Except for Jongho, he very much had a few months left to ignore the unavoidable adulthood period he was about to suddenly enter his senior year. The rest of them, minus Hongjoong, had the right to grasp as much as they could of the freedom of only being weighed down by exams and not by other obligations like rent and bills.

Wooyoung and San’s lease is being paid by their parents, so they don't really count.

And Hongjoong lives with his bandmates in a little apartment above the rehearsal space provided by a lovely grandma who treats them all like they are her sons, so he doesn't really count either.

Seonghwa feels like, in the span of a year, he took a whole step forward while everyone else is still enjoying their youth. Now, he has presentations and meetings with clients he needs to worry about.

Love is not his top priority, not that it ever was, but now it barely crosses his mind.

He just wants to stay cool and young for a few more years before giving in completely into feeling like an adult.

So, naturally, what's the first idea that popped in his mind a few weeks ago when thinking about the inescapable passage of time?

That he should definitely be a little more irresponsible with his finances. Why not? He's in the perfect period of his life where he's allowed to make a mistake without the fear of eternal judgment by a superior being.

The superior being happens to be his mother, of course. Who else would it be? The woman could make a God shake in their shiny boots and silence them with a single scowl.

She's all the way back in his hometown, though and she's really rooting for him to make it big in the city.

Surely, she wouldn't mind if he bought a motorcycle to help him commute faster to his appointments, right?

Well, he's about to find out any day now.

Looking out of the window that looks to the street, Seonghwa can see his new acquisition parked and sparkling under the streetlamp and the smile that it brings to his lips it's big enough for Yunho to bump him with his hip and lean against the window sill as well.

“Who's making you smile like that?” he asks, looking away from Seonghwa and following his line of sight till it reaches the beautiful Bonneville he just got on a great deal with a guy who wanted to get rid of it.

The auction post said that it was because it looked too vintage and the owner wanted to upgrade to something more ‘modern looking’.

A fool, he thought.

Because to him, this bike checks all his marks: it is modern enough that in case he needed to get any parts for it, it wouldn't make him lose his mind in the process. But also, it has that vintage, nostalgic, old film feel and look to it that is just right up his alley.

He loves it.

Huh, maybe he did find true love after all.

And after breaking open his savings, Seonghwa managed to get a hold of it without financially ruining himself. Only a bit.

He didn't tell any of his friends about it, maybe that's why Yunho whistles after he checks it out.

“Now who's riding that baby?”

“Me,” Seonghwa smiles, turning to his friend who, as the response dawns on him, drops his jaw and lets out an amused chuckle “What? That's my bike!”

“Are you being serious?”

“Why would I lie to you?” He returns, softly.

A bit passes and then Yunho turns to everyone else scattered around the living room.

“Guys, Seonghwa is having an early mid-life crisis and bought a motorcycle!”

Yeosang gasps “Ain't no way…”

“Hwa? A motorcycle?” Wooyoung hollers, louder than everyone else “What's next? Tattoos?!”

Oh, for the love of God.

Maybe there's a reason he didn't tell anyone until now. Everyone gathers around the window to look at it like children at a zoo and he takes a step back, sitting on the arm on the couch, a subtle smile on his lips.

The only person that turns to him is San’s girlfriend, smiling proudly like he just won the lottery or something.

Damn, she really is his type.

“Are you happy?” She asks and it tugs at his lonely heart strings like crazy.

He pushes through, nodding and shrugging a bit, dismissing his feelings for the final time. It's not really her, he reminds himself. It's the thought of having someone in his life that treats him the way she treats San.

“Sure am,” he murmurs “My bank account? Not so much.”

She laughs and Jongho turns to him at that “Are you an old man with debts now? Noooo,” he pouts “Who am I going to ask for bail money now?”

Gyuri, Wooyoung's ex-girlfriend who somehow manages to stay friends with him, scoffs “You've never been to jail, kid.”

“But he's the first person on my emergency contact list for that!”

And just like that, they all pull away from the window and back into their seats to discuss the reasons why Jongho would end up behind bars.

Being annoying seems to be winning.

Seonghwa is glad to take the attention off of him. This way, he can't be caught staring at the way Mingi’s girlfriend sits on his lap and nuzzles her nose against her boyfriend’s neck. This way, the sigh he lets out when he catches San whispering sweet things into his girl’s ear gets lost amidst pointless banter and giggling.

He shouldn't feel envious.

But somehow he ended up wearing a green short-sleeve today, so it checks out.

“Important client. Wants to renovate their whole space, his apartment and his office.”

His boss is excited. It makes him smile as he stares at her with his hands behind his back, like he usually does when he receives instructions.

“He loved your work, I showed him the photo studio you helped with last month and requested you specifically. He said that he feels trapped in a box every time he gets to work and everytime he returns home, so… He wants you to lead the project,” she smiles, tapping her manicured nails against her desk and cocking her head to the side “Congratulations, kid, you got your first big commission coming.”

“Thank you so much,” he bows, his body bending out of pure gratefulness and instinct “I'll make sure to run everything by you accordingly, boss.”

“Well, I'm expecting a report in two days.”

“Two days?”

“Mhm. He wants to meet with you this afternoon… In four hours, exactly. I already sent you an email with the details,” she gets up from her desk, extending her hand towards him and he rushes to shake it “You're doing the initial assessment today, alone. Everyone else has something going on.”

Fuck.

“Of course,” he's worried and anxious, but he makes sure none of it shows as he gives her hand a firmer shake before letting it go “I'll do my initial research in the meantime, then.”

She nods and dismisses him with her hand.

He stresses the whole time he looks up the name and company of this new client. It seems like a serious business, not the kind that wants to reject minimalism especially when the nation's professional aesthetic runs on it.

It’s a modern tech silicon valley run by, what he's able to gather, a very rich family his new client is part of. There's a picture of them, smiling at an event, looking like the nightmare of working class people.

He tends to keep his opinions on chaebol’s at bay (Yunho is his friend and he’s rich, so he can't really voice what he thinks so freely anyway) but the fact that they contacted his company, an interior design business with barely any recognition amongst their competitors, is both surprising and concerning.

He clicks an article where his new client is featured. He's the heir of his family's empire, a tech savvy himself and he can tell, from the way they framed his answers, that he is well media-trained.

Seonghwa has no name for himself. Why would he request him? He's not so sure the ambiance he helped to create in a mere photo studio is what is granting him this opportunity.

His intuition is telling him, as he clicks for his initial research to print, that there must be an ulterior motive.

But he's going to embrace the chance of securing his rent money either way.

He just hopes his hair is presentable enough when he gets there. The helmet he bought is really not helping, the wind that somehow gets into it as he cruises through the streets doesn't help either.

Wanna know what else adds up to his problems today? The engine sounds weird.

It sounds fucking weird.

At a red light, Seonghwa lifts up his visor and tries to figure out what the hell is going on as much as he can.

He's too green for this. Too new to this world.

Would his mother scold him if she finds out he lied about doing a thorough research about the bike world before investing in one?

He looks at his watch. He has time to spare, an hour and a half before the meeting takes place.

Before he can fully make a decision, his body weight is making him turn into a street he doesn't know that well. But he's sure he saw a repair shop on the way to work today.

Or was it just a body shop? Maybe he imagined it and the sudden panic he feels rising and darkening his cheeks under the visor is convincing him he's right.

When he sees the floatable mascot waving in the wind, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Pulling up, he sees a few cars with their hood open and a few new, modern bikes to the side, so he parks a few meters from them and when he turns off the engine and gets down from his -apparently- damaged new acquisition, he feels like he can finally breathe.

No, scratch that, he takes his helmet off and then he's able to breathe.

When he scans the place, there's not a soul in sight.

Until he hears someone humming. It's a song he heard before, he can't quite put it together by the melody but it sounds like something he used to enjoy when he entertained the idea of joining Hongjoong's band all the way back in first semester of college.

Something with heavy guitars, which kind of fits the place’s vibe. Looking around, he swears to himself he's trying to find the source of the humming.

After all, he doesn't have much time to take in the place.

But he does anyway.

When he steps deeper into the shop, he feels like he's been teletransported into a decade he never got to experience, into a culture that is not his to experience in the first place.

It's like a Sons of Anarchy set, something he would see in an indie two thousands movie, maybe. There's a lot of stuff laying around, an organized chaos he guesses he can attribute to the nature of this kind of job.

But there's also a lot on the walls, aside from the usual tools hanging from it that look worn out there's posters and the Harley Davidson logo plastered at least five times in shirts, hats and jacket applique patches.

He thinks the walls can be painted a new, muted color instead of the sort-of bright blue and beige they have going on.

Focus. What the hell.

Shaking his head, he follows the sound of the voice until he reaches the back of the shop. There's what it looks like an office, maybe a reception? With a door that's wide open and seems to lead to a storage he doesn't need to get in to.

There, on her knees, he sees the source of the sound: A girl.

A beautiful, beautiful girl.

With her hair out of her face and overalls that seem too loose on her frame.

Is his heart okay? It feels like it stopped beating.

And then the beating comes back in full blast, goosebumps on his skin reminding him to speak up. Clearing his throat softly, he does.

“Hello?”

“Oh, shit,” she drops whatever she's working on, stops writing something down on a notebook that looks like it's about to run out of space “You fucking scared me!”

“I can… see that. I'm sorry.”

“Did you float all the way down here? Fucking Christ,” she mumbles something under her breath, getting up from her position and leaning into the desk in a way Seonghwa will probably remember forever. He gulps “What can I help you with, Ghost?”

She's breathtakingly beautiful and he, who's usually smooth with words and random interactions, stammers out his response “H-hey, yes I… I'm Park Seonghwa,” he starts, smiling a bit “I was hoping there was someone here who can help me with my bike?”

She looks around and he assumes she's looking for someone until he sees the corner of her lip curving up a bit “As I said, what can I help you with?”

Did he already fuck this whole thing up?

“Oh! I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't— I mean that's not what I…” her smirks widens, he suddenly remembers he's running out of time so he gets it together “I just bought a motorcycle and I'm sure the engine is not supposed to sound the way it's sounding so I thought I could use someone taking a look?” He gets out as fast as he can and the stranger claps her hands in a way that makes him take a step back.

She intimidates him. Just a little bit.

“First time owner?” She asks but he's sure she already knows.

Chuckling nervously, Seonghwa nods “What gave it away?”

“Your gear,” she simply states, getting out from behind the desk and into the garage space, moving swiftly through it like she owns the place. Damn, does she own the place? “You're barely wearing any. I get it, it's stuffy,” she turns over her shoulder to smile at him “It'll grow on you.”

“More like I'll get used to it, I feel like.”

“Yeah,” she rounds a car, tapping the hood of it and taking a pause as she scans the front of the place “That's what I said.”

That's definitely not what she said.

He's not sure if she's being rude or merely sarcastic, but he shouldn't be enjoying it the way he is. What drags him out of it is the way laughs when she sees his bike “This one?”

Concerning. Danger. Why is she laughing?!

“Y-yeah.”

“I don't get to see this type of bike often. Damn, she's beautiful.”

He smiles, taking down his worries a notch “Yeah, I got a great deal for it. The guy said he wanted something like that instead,” he points at the one right next to his “Said he wanted something that looked out of Terminator. I didn't have the heart to tell him that they used a Harley Davidson for the movies.”

“I'm guessing he meant Robocop?”

“Maybe.”

“What an idiot,” she sighs, inspecting his bike closely “Not you, Park Seonghwa, the guy who sold you this. Key.”

Key? Oh, right, the key. He tosses it to her and she catches it with expertise.

“Well, thanks for clarifying that.”

She laughs again, taking his helmet that's resting on the seat and putting it down on the floor as she straddles the bike “You're welcome,” she starts it, revs the engine a few times and then grimaces in a way that makes Seonghwa’s heart drop to his ass “Okay, Ghost, please tell me you have time to spare today.”

“I actually don't,” he takes a few steps, worried frown on his face that prompts another sigh from her “I have a very, very important appointment in…” he checks his watch “In an hour that I really, really need to get to and— Is it that bad?”

“No! No, not at all, I'm just better with cars than with bikes but, uhm… My brother is coming back in around fifteen minutes?” She offers and with the scowl on his face, she seems to backtrack “Listen, Park Seonghwa, why don't you leave your number with me and we can get this fixed by the end of the day. You can come by to pick it up or we can drop it to you early, tomorrow.”

“Would you? Oh, my God,” he lets out another nervous laugh “That would be amazing, actually.”

“Yeah, it's probably just the chain tensioner that needs an adjustment. Nothing's wrong with the engine as far as I can tell but that's why I want the guy who specializes in this type of thing to check it out.”

“Your brother.”

“Exactly,” she nods, turning it off and getting off as quickly and if Seonghwa was a little less concerned that he might've waisted his money on an expensive motorcycle, he would've noticed the proximity and the way she looks him over with a curious glint on her eye “So, Park Seonghwa, what's your number?”

She takes a step to the side and offers him her phone after unlocking it. He reacts to that.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

He doesn't notice the big smile she offers him either. He doesn't have time. He enters the digits fast and checks over them two times before saving the contact information and returning the phone.

Checking his watch once again, he curses under his breath and looks at his baby with desperation, begging, praying that he doesn't have to spend a fortune on it.

“I really have to go.”

“I can see that,” she returns his words from before, smiling and leaning to rest her weight on the hood of the car she tapped earlier “Good luck with your, uh…” she looks him over one more than and this time he notices it, blushing like a teenager for some reason because of it “Business meeting?”

The crossbody bag he's wearing probably gave him away, huh?

“Yeah, yes. Thank you so much for all your help… Ian?” He reads the nametag on her overall and immediately thinks it is an unconventional name for a girl, but doesn't add anything about it “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I get it, you're grateful, now leave.” He catches on that she's pretending like his presence bothers her so he can hurry, which he's actually grateful for.

It occurs to him that he could stare at her forever like an idiot if she didn't.

“Okay, bye. Please tell me if I have to, uh, rob a bank or something to cover the cost.”

She laughs again and it sounds pretty this time.

What the fuck.

“Sure,” she nods and he takes a few steps backwards until he's about to turn and then he hears her voice again, so he doesn't but he keeps walking “It's Y/N, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Y/N, Ian is my brother.”

His heart beats loudly and he can't help but smile as wide as he possibly can “Ah, that makes more sense.”

“Goodbye, Park Seonghwa!”

He finally turns and then screams back “Goodbye, Y/N!” as he's hurrying to raise his hand and call on a taxi who just passed the entrance like divine intervention, placed perfectly just for him.

He misses the sudden blush on your cheeks because he's already in the cab by the time you reach the garage’s door to glance at the beautiful man one last time.

Seonghwa is right on time. With a few minutes to spare, actually.

The building looks even more modernized than in pictures. He can even see some workers remodeling an office he passes on the way to the… third? Main desk he has to go to.

It's a very big company and he can see the silicon valley aspect of it all once he notices the few different uniforms everyone is wearing. It seems like the building is one big, creative space and he likes it, but it does feel a little cold in a sense.

“I'm looking for Mr. Kim? I have an appointment in… five minutes with him, I was sent from—”

“Room for More. Park Seonghwa is here.” The lady at the reception doesn't spare him a glance as she talks through her headset and he has to blink a few times, bowing briefly when she points towards the elevator to his right “Floor sixteen, the only big office on the floor.”

“Thank you—”

“Next!”

Turning back, he sees there's some people lined up behind him and he quickly moves out of the way and towards the elevator that drops him, two minutes later, into the sixteenth floor.

As he walks towards the big doors at the end of the hall, he feels so out of place his armpits start sweating even though it is a cold day and the heating is barely on.

There's a few cubicles, glass separating them from the hall and, in consequence, forcing him to glance a few times out of curiosity. The uniforms and creativity that he saw downstairs is lost and all he can see is the nightmare he had once, when he thought he would end up working in a similar space: men in suits and women in pencil skirts typing away and printing reports he is never going to understand.

Maybe that's why he's a bit surprised when he gets to Mr. Kim’s office and he's waiting by the door with a kind of ironed three piece suit and a few hairs out of place, toothy grin and open arms.

“Mr. Park Seonghwa, thank you so much for taking the job!”

He moves in to give him a brief hug he doesn't really get to reciprocate before he's moving away and into his office.

“It's, um, a pleasure,” he stammers out, following him “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Kim— Wow.”

“I know, I know,” his client sighs as he takes a box and throws it to the side of his desk. The space is a mess and both of them grimace at the sound of something breaking inside the cardboard “This is why I recruited you. I tried to do something myself and ended up with… Whatever this is.”

Looking around, Seonghwa is able to see what he means. The walls are mismatched and there's an unfinished design on the one to his left. Someone started painting a tree and gave up after sketching out a few branches.

“And please call me Soohyun. Everyone here already calls me Mr. Kim and it makes me feel like my father,” he adds, sitting down on his desk chair and pointing to the one in front of it “That's my sister’s work. She tried to help me but broke one of her nails trying to get the cap off a painting tube so… She left me with this mess.”

Seonghwa smiles, sitting down in front of him and getting his sketchbook out of his bag. Seemingly excited, his client rests his arms on the desk and grins at him, expectantly.

He seems a little childish, not like the guy he studied earlier today. He looks younger than what he actually is like this, in a space that mimics what Seonghwa picks up like impatience and boredom, maybe the desire of breaking free of a corporate jail.

Now, he understands why he contacted Room for More.

“So, Soohyun… What do you want me to do for this space?”

He spends the rest of the day in the middle of the mess, getting to know Soohyun’s vision and learning about the company as he helps to pile up the boxes laying around and drawing different ideas down. When he tries to talk about a possible budget, the man silences him and tells him not to worry about it.

The pretty girl he met earlier crosses his mind one time, when Soohyun asks him if he can stay later than anticipated to give him an excuse to get out of what he says it's about to be a very boring and pointless meeting.

Her image, your image makes him smile and he wonders, for a second, what the hell are you doing with his bike.

And if he gets to see you again.

Your brother comes back like a whole two hours later, so you're grateful you didn't push your new client to waste fifteen minutes of his, apparently, very busy day.

“He said he got a great deal for it?” you nod “This one is not even that old, I'm sure they still make them!”

You shrug and your brother sighs.

“Maybe he got scammed.”

“I didn't ask but I think it started making that noise today because he seemed… alarmed,” you tell him and Christian pushes his hair back before taking the key out of your open palm “He didn't stay because he had a business appointment or something. He looked very laid-back, though, not rich at all, so don't you dare overcharge him for this.”

“Oh, so you liked him.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to open the hood of the car you're supposed to be working on instead of giving away information he should've listened to if he didn't tend to walk out mid-shift “Yeah, we're actually getting married next week.”

“Well, that means I can dispute getting the whole garage once dad goes away.”

You let out a groan but you smile a little as you try and remember where you left off last night.

“The only way he can go away is if he's dead, Christian,” you remind him “And he's going to outlive both of us.”

“Of course he is.”

You're not sure if your dad has a will at all. You're not his real children after all, so If he does you're not sure you're included either.

It's not hard to tell you're adopted, but you've known Christian since before it was decided you two would share a family and even a last name.

You grew up together, the adoption home treated both of you decently enough so you two never struggled as much but the children your age were a different story entirely. They used to tug at your hair and push you to the ground during group activities and the only one who was brave enough to make them stop was Christian.

So, when your dad showed up at the adoption home and picked him out of the hundred children, he told him he didn't want to go anywhere without you.

Sure enough, your dad took one look at your frightened little face, hiding behind Christian like a coward, and filled out the paperwork twenty minutes later.

You remember gaping at the director, waiting for him to do something about this six feet tattooed guy in his late thirties wanting to take you both away from the only home you ever knew, but you're grateful the system didn't give two craps about children back in the day.

Not that it gives a crap about them now, but at least they're a little more careful with just handing out kids like that.

Because it could've gone terribly wrong. You were sure, at eight years old, your hand grasping the seatbelt on the back seat of your new dad’s car, that it was about to go terribly wrong.

But he turned out to be nothing but a kind, hardworking (with an amazing credit score, no criminal record and steady income), widowed man who was looking to fulfill his late wife’s dreams of having a family and someone to leave their business to.

After all, she was the one who built the shop from the ground up. You desperately needed to know more of her and your dad made sure to let you know how amazing she was in every aspect.

She became someone you looked up to, even if you never really knew her, maybe that's why you ended up working at the shop as well.

And yet, you still don't think it belongs to you. Ian is the one your dad wanted to begin with, you're just an added bonus.

You're not sure you want it, either.

But there's not much you know outside of it. Your time in school was great, no one bullied you anymore and the tough skin you developed out of nowhere cushioned the typical jokes that kids and teenagers are apparently programmed to make.

You never made fun of anyone with ill intentions, so you're not sure how true that statement is.

Either way, you kind of know where they were coming from. You weren't particularly exceptional at any subject but you never got in trouble for anything either, so you just kind of floated in everyone's orbit until you graduated, never belonging to any specific group of people or participating on any extracurriculars to help you maintain your barely there friendships after graduation.

This shop is truly all you got. And the family that comes with it, of course.

Your dad coughing in the back and the sound reaching your ears even when the sound of Park Seonghwa's damaged motorcycle is right next to you, reminds you that the spending every second of your teenage years and early adult life learning all you could about how to fix a car was worth it.

“Fucking chain tensioners.”

Smiling, you turn your head to your brother and he's already working on it “So it was the chain tensioner?”

“Yeah,” he wipes the sweat off his forehead “it's always the fucking chain tensioner with these things.”

You don't tell him you already knew that.

“So you could get it fixed today?”

“Yeah, yeah. He said he's coming back tonight?”

“Oh, I kind of suggested dropping it off tomorrow so I'm not sure…”

“Y/N!” he scolds immediately and all you can give him in return is an innocent smile “I'm not dropping off shit tomorrow.”

Turning back to the car, your smile grows into a cheeky one.

“I never said you would do it.”

He scoffs “If this is your way of flirting with people, I can see why you never got far with anyone befo— What the fuck?”

Jaw slack, holding the greasy towel you sent flying into his direction a second ago, he throws it back and it lands by your feet.

“Did I lie?”

“Stop being an ass or the next thing I'm throwing your way are my bedazzled pliers.”

Your dad’s voice behind you puts a stop into the petty and pointless bickering “Well, don't, I worked hard on those,” you smile at him and Ian all but sulks before returning to the task at hand “I expect you both to be done on whatever you're working tomorrow, by eight. We have dinner with the Lee’s.”

Ah, dinner with your dad’s closest friends. Usual Tuesday shenanigans, of course, but it doesn't stop the nervous bubbling inside of you.

You pray Deokhee can't make it (he rarely shows up) but you mutter out an okay in response even if you don't feel like going anyway.

Nodding, he quickly looks over on what you're both doing before disappearing into the back of the shop again. You look down at your toolbox and find the bedazzled pliers your dad gave you as a part of your fourteen birthday gift with a tiny, grateful smile.

The eternal loop of working in the same usual five, fixable problems on the cars that people drop off at the shop sets in afterwards. And, for the rest of the afternoon, you keep stealing glances at the Bonneville and wondering what type of man its owner is.

You've always been drawn to pretty faces, even if it costed you your sanity only a few years back. Not that Christian or your dad or anyone else knew about it.

The little secrets you keep give you some sense of identity, it sets you apart from the oil changes and calluses on your hands and they remind you of the brief aspirations you once had outside of all of this.

When you dreamed of belonging to someone else and not just this family business, someone who you thought used to get you before he shattered your heart into a million pieces.

Deokhee thought cheating would not affect you.

Why? Oh, maybe because your edges were worn and rough and you've been through worse stuff before.

What's worse that getting abandoned and picked out as an afterthought later in life?

Being abandoned and treated like an afterthought by the guy you wasted your teen years obsessing over, probably.

Nothing breaks like a heart or whatever the song says.

And, to his advantage, he knew you'd keep calm and collected and accepting of his ways because he never promised you the life you imagined for the both of you, even after giving yourself to him multiple times.

Even after he told you how amazing you were.

Even after he whispered how lucky he was to have you, hushed and hurried at the backdoor of his house that last time before he broke it off.

Before he told you he found someone else.

So you know wondering is a bad idea. You should not wonder about a client, at that. How unprofessional of you, how immature.

But there was a spark this afternoon you never felt with anyone else. He was brave enough to joke around, even when you did try your best to intimidate him and lost tragically at one glimpse of his pretty smile.

What's so wrong in indulging in a fantasy no one will ever know about? Heavens know you need one to keep you from smashing the wrench on the windshield of this old, ungrateful, misbehaving Chevrolet that's proving to be more difficult than any other car you've ever worked on before.

It's only at ten after seven that you're allowed to think about Park Seonghwa without the guilt brought on by delusion.

“There, fixed,” your brother says and, after starting the bike again, the noise is gone “Call your future husband and tell him to pick it up, I want to meet him.”

Huffing, you reach for your phone and look at the recently added contact before shaking your head.

Indulging in a fantasy it's fine, as long as you keep it to yourself.

You get a chance to prove yourself wrong if you allow yourself to see him again.

“Not a chance in hell.”

Couple of minutes pass and you fidget the whole time. You're hoping for a yes, so it can all die down tonight. Seonghwa’s lack of transportation and your fantasy included.

He doesn't respond the way you need him to.

You hate that it makes you smile a bit.

You glance at your brother and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Would it be nice to not go wherever he is and have time to actually get ready for dinner tomorrow? Yes.

Do you want Christian to meet Seonghwa? No. That meeting would solidify everything else as a reality, it would pull you out of your little fantasy and you don't want that.

You want to keep it (Seonghwa) to yourself for a while longer.

You shouldn't be flirting, you really shouldn't.

His flirting back puts you in a dangerous zone, a territory you desperately want to explore but can't. Shouldn't.

Is it dumb of you to re-read the conversation at least eight times before going to bed?

Probably.

But you do anyway.

When Seonghwa is finally walked downstairs by his new client, he's promised a meal by Hongjoong, only if he buys some beer on the way to his apartment.

His roommates are apparently out and he didn't feel like going, although he didn't explain why. And when he gets there, Yeosang is also splayed out on the couch and with his laptop on his belly.

“Hwa’s here!”

“Oh, man, finally,” Hongjoong walks out of his room with wet hair and a towel around his neck “The takeout is getting cold. Come on!”

He seems… Off.

Seonghwa eyes Yeosang for an answer but the youngest just shrugs and sits straight on the couch as he closes his laptop.

“Is everything alrig—”

“I'll explain it to you when the time is right. Something's up with the band but it's nothing we can't fix.”

“Okay…” Seonghwa sits down on the tiny table that somehow fits the three of them, the beers and the takeout with a tiny smile, knowing not to intervene until he's told to.

Eating with his friends is like second nature to him. Everytime it happens, it's like a family dinner and everyone knows what to do and what to serve to everyone so, soon enough, they all have their chopsticks helping them get food into their mouths while they talk about their day.

Seonghwa is nodding along, not sharing a lot because, well, work is work and he just tells them how excited he is for the new project and what he's planning on doing, he even shows them the mockups and drawings he spent the whole afternoon making, gaining supportive praise for it a second later.

Yeosang looks up from his meal to him “So it's like a lot of little companies inside one company?”

“Sort of,” Seonghwa smiles “I don't really get it, either, but that's okay. It doesn't seem like I have to get the concept of the company to plan this whole thing out, only what my client wants and that's… Very different from the company image.”

He plans on saying something else but all train of thought gets interrupted when his phone dings right besides him.

And he almost spills his beer on his pretty mockups trying to get to it fast enough.

Only to end up disappointed, because it's not you but a discount notification from the food app he normally uses when he has the money to order in.

It had to show up in his face, because what he hears next has the color draining from it “Oh?”

Oh, God.

It's like Wooyoung's spirit possessing Hongjoong, he sees it happen in real time and the wicked smile his friend sends in his direction is enough to know where it's all going.

Yeosang sighs and eyes him with a tiny smile that says I'm on your side, but not really.

“Hwa… The motorcycle, the looking at your phone waiting for something or someone… Are you seeing anyone?”

“He obviously is!”

“Yeosang! Stop feeding his delusions!”

“So?” Hongjoong places his beer down, cocking his head to the side inquisitively and eyeing him up and down, like he can figure something out that way “Are you?”

“No! I just… I met this girl today and—”

“At the company?”

“No! No, uh… My bike broke down and—”

“Already?!”

“Let him talk, hyung!”

Letting out a sigh, Hongjoong sets hips lips into an straight line that makes Seonghwa huff out a chuckle of disbelief “Thanks, Yeo. Anyway, my bike had a weird sound this morning and I took it to a shop, so the girl who's… In charge?” he frowns a little, because he's still not sure “Of the shop sent me a text a while ago saying that it's fixed, I was just checking if she sent anything else.”

“And you like her.”

It's more than that, really. He can't even explain it, the smile tugging at his lips a dead giveaway of the whirlwind going inside his head at the thought of you.

“Ye— No! No, I don't even know her.”

He shouldn't feel so flustered, really, but the things he felt while looking at you earlier were weird and confusing and he needs to think straight before he lets it consume him.

It felt a little too freeing for his liking.

Free from what? He's not really able to pinpoint it. But it looks like he's going to have to.

The way his friends are staring at him like they know something he doesn't it's annoying, but telling.

“Okay, maybe I do like her a little.”

Yeosang hums “Like her, like her or just… You know.”

“I'm not sure…”

“Well, figure it out!” Hongjoong is excited, almost jumping in his chair at the prospect of Seonghwa getting with someone “You have her number, ask her to… Meet you somewhere or whatever people do when they like someone.”

“Ask her on a date, hyung. That's what this idiot is trying to say.”

“Hey!”

Seonghwa closes his eyes because he can't believe his friends are entertaining the idea, feeding the growing feeling inside his chest “I just met her today, though.”

“And?” Hongjoong bites a piece of meat and shrugs, dismissively “Timing is never off when you like someone. Do something about it because I swear if I have to hear anyone else complaining about not getting with the girl they like because of timing I'll—”

“Wait, who complained?”

The table falls quiet as Seonghwa looks between his friends to find an answer but Yeosang just shakes his head and he gets it.

Not the time to talk about it.

Hongjoong points at him with his chopsticks, threatenly “Do. Something. About. It. Anyway!” He gets up from his seat, points at Yeosang this time “Guess who almost got kicked out of college for messing around with the wrong crowd today?”

“That's not what happened!”

And Seonghwa swears he's focusing on the story Hongjoong is so eager to tell, on Yeosang’s ears turning pink at the mention of a girl he's never heard before, too.

But all he can think about is you.

The next day, after briefly stopping by his office, Seonghwa is back with a few coworkers who help with measurements and put their input in the assessment. He spends all day with it, too and, once again, serves as an excuse for Soohyun to get out of some meetings he's not interested in attending.

As the day passes, he wonders how Soohyun maintains the important position he's in. Nepotism can't do everything for you, right?

Right?

But his new client seems down to earth enough to be aware of his advantages in an industry that's quick and cruel and doesn't hold too much space for laziness.

So he lets it go because, well, he tends to judge but he can't really do much for people who actually deserve to be in charge.

It's close to seven and Soohyun bidded him goodbye only a few minutes ago, saying sorry he can't walk him out because, at this time, he actually has an international call to make that can't be excused like the rest of his afternoon schedule.

Seonghwa doesn't make it out of the office before getting stopped by a manicured hand to his chest.

After the texts last night and Hongjoong's threats, he was practically ready to sprint downstairs to meet you (or whoever you sent) and get his bike back, maybe apologize for panicking and sending a whole ass sticker as a response instead of keeping the conversation going.

And to see you again. God, he wants to break his Bonneville one more time just to get to see your pretty face again.

He already idealized you in his head, which is bad and very amateur on his side, but no one needs to know that.

But now he might have to keep all of that waiting for a few more minutes because there's someone staring at him like just committed a crime. A crime he's unaware of.

“Who are you?”

Her scowl tells him she's trying to get a read on him and he thinks he's transparent enough for it to be easy. If he really thinks about it, though, it looks like she wants to scare him a little bit.

It doesn't work.

“Um, Park Seonghwa,” he says and then points over his shoulder, to Soohyun’s office “I’m working on renovating Mr. Kim’s office?”

“Oh, for fucks sake. Why can't no one in this family keep normal people around?” She peeks through his shoulder, the high heels she's wearing helping her with the task. Groaning, she turns around and starts heading for the elevator, mumbling something under her breath.

The only thing he can make out of it it's something about supermodels and a it's not fair.

She turns around briefly to look at him again and scoffs, clearly annoyed.

“I feel like I know your face from somewhere else.”

Seonghwa feels a little lost, but steps into the elevator when she does. Now he's afraid, maybe she's a crazy person but then it clicks.

Clearly, he knows her from somewhere else too.

“I'm sure the only place I've seen you before is on the news, Miss Kim,” he replies with a sheepish smile, shrugging a bit and hitting the main floor button on the panel “That's a nice tree, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“The one on Mr. Kim’s office?” he offers, turning to her “He told me his sister painted it and as far as I know, he only has one sister.”

That brings a smile to her face and Seonghwa counts it as a small victory, for some reason.

“Ah, so you did your research,” she nods “Please scrape it off the wall if needed. It made me bleed.”

“He omitted that part.”

“Of course he did, it was his fault. Anyway,” she shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator and walking ahead without waiting for him. She looks like the type of person who knows everyone else will follow and he does, but only out of curiosity “my brother has your number, yes, Mr. Park?”

“I'm assuming he does or, at least, my company's numb—”

“I'm not interested in your company, I'm interested in you.”

She's also very forward. How could he not guess that from the way she carries herself around?

“I don't usually do freelance work, Miss Kim.”

As they both reach the main entrance, she turns around gracefully and with a, for what he can tell, very rehearsed smile tugging at her lips.

“I'm not interested in your work either, Mr. Park.”

That, he did guess, but it's disappointing either way.

“Then what good am I to you?”

Her grin widens “You'll see.”

The sound of his Bonneville pulling up it's what gets him to turn away from the mischievous glint in the chaebol's eyes.

And when he sees you take off a helmet that's not his and wave your hand at him, she blends into the background completely.

You look good, hair down and probably freshly showered because there's a few droplets falling down from the ends of it to your shirt and leather jacket. Your hands are gloved up and all, like you've been riding bikes your whole life.

He wonders if that's the case. God, he wants to get to know you so bad.

“Oh God, not another one, I— Is she your girlfriend, Mr. Park?”

His head snaps back, eyes wide and cheeks turning pink “N-no, I just met her yesterday, she… That's my bike, I had to get it fixed.”

Pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth for a second, she nods and then takes two long strides into the direction of a car he didn't see until now “Perfect, then. She looks pretty cool,” she waves at you and he doesn't get to see if you wave back, too focused on getting the color out of his cheeks “Tell her I said that. Goodbye for now, Mr. Park.”

Seonghwa wants to ask a million questions. What does she want? What does she mean goodbye for now? But he doesn't get to. She gets into the car and drives off and that leaves space for you to drive his bike again and pull up right in front of him this time.

“Hope I didn't interrupt anything there, Ghost.”

A nervous chuckle abandons him and he manages to shake his head “No, no, she's… my client’s sister?” He offers and you smile, turning off the bike and getting off a second later “She said you're, um, cool.”

“And why would she say that?”

“Because you look cool? I don't really know, don't question me,” he's sure the efforts he put on making the blush disappear were pointless, cheeks burning when you laugh at him “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Don't thank me, Seonghwa, I didn't tell you how much it'll cost you yet.”

He gulps.

You take mercy on him and the way his eyes glisten with worry, laughing again “It's not too bad. It was the chain tensioner and my brother worked on it pretty fast, don't worry.”

Relaxing, he takes his helmet and key off your offering hands with a tiny smile, touch lingering on your skin for a second too long “Did you enjoy seeing me suffer just now?”

“A little bit,” you shrug and mutter your apologies although he can tell you're not sorry at all “I'll text you the invoice with the account you can send the money to?”

No.

He wants to say no and make you go with him to an ATM so he can pay in cash just to keep you around for a while longer, he doesn't want this interaction to be over.

And he's usually very good at communicating things of this nature but something about you makes him giddy and nervous and his charisma is not able to keep up.

It dawns on him that it's very weird to want to keep a stranger, someone he only met a day ago, in his life for as long as possible.

Do you feel the same way? He wants you to feel the same way.

The unexpected desire sits on his chest heavily, making him take in a breath more shakily than he intended to.

“Sure,” the words taste bitter on his tongue, his tone gives away that he doesn't really mean it and then said desire takes over, making him stammer the next words out “Do you want me to take you somewhere?”

Surprised, you blink a few times and then look down at your own helmet for a second. He feels like he screwed up by asking you that.

Of course, you don't feel the same way. Of course, you must have someone waiting for you already.

Of course, of course, of fucking course.

But just before he can backpedal on his offer, you're looking up, your mind made up and the same teasing smile you've been wearing ever since he saw you yesterday “It won't save you from the debt I'm about to put you through with that invoice but sure.”

Seonghwa lets out a huff and chuckle all in the same breath, straddling his bike a second later “Ha, ha. Count it as a tip, Y/N.”

“Oh, I'm so telling my brother that,” you beam when he returns the joke and he moves a little, making space for you at the back “Somehow, I don't feel safe with you riding this bike, Ghost.”

He ignites it and the whole thing shakes a bit before you can even put on the helmet, so he can't really refute that.

“Do you want to ride it?”

It's a second too late when he realizes the double meaning behind his own words, unintended, but there they are floating on the air around you both, electric and maybe one sided.

But you don't back down, taking a step into his space and crowding him, almost towering over him even if he's on the bike and even if that makes him taller than you. It feels that way, so he welcomes the sensation and the pang of his heart against his chest when you lean in just a little.

“Do you want me to ride it?”

Breath caught in his throat, Seonghwa takes in your smirk as a sign that, maybe, it's not one sided at all.

“The bike,” you clarify a second later, like it's necessary “It would be easier to get us to where I need to go, anyways.”

Planting his feet on the ground, he keeps the Bonneville stable enough to slide back to the space he created for you a minute ago, and if you can feel his heart beating with an unfamiliar, yet exciting song when you take a seat, put your helmet on and press your back against his chest, you sure cover it up when you turn to look at him.

“Does your fancy job provide you health insurance?”

He lets out an amused huff “Yours doesn't?”

“I never asked,” you shrug, taking the handles and looking forward again, leaning in slightly so now he's not that close to you but he feels you everywhere still “Just making sure in case I break you.”

When you start driving him, handling the Bonneville in a way he never would even with the years of experience ahead of him, he wants to tell you that he wouldn't mind that.

In fact, he finds himself wanting it.

As he holds tight to your waist, he finds himself on the verge of telling you to break him apart piece by piece so he can do the same with you. Explore you, not physically, but in the way it truly matters.

He wants to know your soul, he wants to understand the reason he feels attached to you after a brief meeting and little more.

You lean back to rest your back a little at a stop sign and he suddenly doesn't care if the way he squishes your waist for a few seconds gives his intentions away. He has your number, he's going to make a move eventually.

What he does care about is the way you don't tense up and just lean into his body a little more before resuming the task of getting both of you wherever you're going

This? The way he feels so free as you move through the highway, make your way in between the cars at stop signs and the wind hitting his arms? This is the grasp at his youth he's been waiting for. Even if it's just for the night.

Even if it's over too soon for his liking.

You stop in front of a house that looks empty. He wonders if it's yours for a second, but then again he's going to find out any minute soon.

“That wasn't too bad, was it?”

Getting down from his Bonneville, you take your helmet off and offer him your hand. He slides up his helmet so you can see his face, about to reply, but you beat him to it “Thank you so much for the ride that I technically gave myself, Park Seonghwa, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Why are you saying goodbye like you're not planning on seeing him ever again?

Suddenly, he's planning on ways to mess up his bike again just to get an excuse to see you again.

No.

He has to be braver than that.

Taking your hand, he pulls you in a little bit and you let out a surprised noise that looks like it embarrasses you.

Your cheeks turn red under the streetlight and he thinks you look beautiful like that.

“Y/N,” he starts in a whisper, gathering his courage up “Would you like to—”

“Y/N.” A voice interrupts him and your eyes widen in panic while you look at him, slowly turning your head to the person as he does the same.

Not before he notices how the pretty blush and all colors drain from your face.

A guy, with blonde shaggy hair and tattoos covering his neck and hands is standing on the sidewalk with a grocery store bag and a weird look on his face. Beside him, a girl who’s smile fades away when she seems to recognize you scoffs.

The guy smiles and Seonghwa wonders why you don't say anything back, your grasp on his hand tightening before letting go.

“There you are, your dad said—”

“Ghost?”

Seonghwa doesn't like the way your voice shakes when you say the nickname he's grown used to in such a short amount of time.

“Yes?”

You don't bother putting the helmet back on, simply dropping it to the ground and turning back at him “I trust you to ride this bike now, yeah?”

He doesn't have to be told twice. Making space for you again, you hop on and hug his waste. He slides his helmet back on.

The guy takes a few steps but Seonghwa stops him with the sound of him revving his Bonneville “Come on, Y/N…” Is what he says when he starts to drive off, accelerating just a little bit before the houses start fading and the busy highway welcomes you both.

Deokhee has some nerve.

The fact that he does boils your bloodstream and you wish you could say that the warm sensation spreading through your body is caused by the guy who you're currently holding to.

Seonghwa has checked in with you once and, after confirming you were okay to keep going, he has held your gloved hands at every red light and stop sign.

You have no idea where you're going, but you're sure you can't go home and deal with this alone for now. He can't take you home, either (he doesn't know the address) but even if he could, you wouldn't let him.

The nameless girl that was with Deokhee is the same girl he cheated with. A girl who, by judging her expression, probably knew about you.

Mind going as fast as the Boneville, you ask yourself how many times she made fun of you for grasping a fantasy, a make-believe story with her now boyfriend.

What did you lack that she obviously has? What prompted him to hurt you this badly?

Is he stupid enough to not realize that the sight of them together would tear you apart all over again?

The scene replays in your head again, after all these years of trying to get over it: Him, holding your hand and telling you how amazing you were to him but that, in all honesty, he didn't see himself going out with someone like you.

You were too much, too proud, too loud.

Which doesn't make any fucking sense because although you never held back a jab or a sarcastic comment if needed, you knew the time and place to speak your mind.

It also didn't make any fucking sense because he knew you would keep his little secret from your father and your brother and, in consequence, keep the relationship you both had and the cowardly way it ended from his family as well.

You were too much, composed of many flaws and adorned with rough and burnt edges, but you would never in a million years tarnish the happiness of the people who love you because of a rookie mistake.

Falling in love with Deokhee was a rookie, horrible mistake.

Falling in love in general? You doubt it.

Because the way Seonghwa takes his time to slow down the bike on a lookout you were too distracted to notice you were climbing up to, pulls it to a full stop and then immediately reaches for your hands again, makes you believe there's good people out there after all.

He took you away without asking any questions and you're suddenly welcomed with the same grateful feeling you have towards your family.

Had you stayed there, you're not so sure you would've kept your words to yourself anymore. Your pain, your anger.

Getting down from the bike, Seonghwa takes his helmet off and drops it in front of you, on the seat, before leaning in a searching for your glossy eyes.

You can see him hesitate through the fog your tears form and you don't let them drop just yet. You're angry, but there's no way you would let Deokhee make you cry again in this lifetime.

You should get down from the bike, but it doesn't move under your weight even if you readjust your position on the seat and you fear that, if you do, you would only plop down into the ground and let it swallow you whole.

You should say something, too. Thank him, probably, but the tall man lets out a breath before opening his arms and pointing at the view. Gladly, you take the opportunity to take in your surroundings and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Didn't know where else to take you, so I brought you to my breaking point.”

“Hm?” frowning a bit, you peel your eyes from the city lights to him “Your breaking point?”

“Yeah, that's what I call it,” he smiles and you do too, halfheartedly “Here's where I come to break down and let everything out. There's a playground back there too,” he points behind him and you scoff, amused “If you want to climb up somewhere and scream. The neighbors don't mind it.”

“I take that as a I've done it before.”

“Once or twice,” he shrugs “It's good for the soul.”

“God,” you cover your face with your hands “I'm so embarrassed you had to see me like that.”

“Like what? You didn't do anything.”

“Running away and acting all weak in front of…” you fake gag, but it's kind of real “Some guy.”

A bit of silence passes in between you and your savior.

And then Seonghwa laughs so hard you're forced to uncover your face and stare at him in disbelief “I'm serious! That's like… top one most embarrassing thing I've ever done.”

His laugh comes to a stop and he doesn't step closer even if you want him to, just puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and looks at you for what it feels like forever.

You don't mind it one bit.

“I've known you for a day, Y/N, but even I can tell that's not the most embarrassing thing you've done.”

Sulking, you turn to the beautiful view one more time and pout like a child. You want to tell him he's right, but your pride doesn't really allow it just yet.

It's quiet for a minute or two. You move around, throw your leg over the Boneville and sit on top of it as you stare at the city. You feel Seonghwa move around, pace behind you until he finally reaches around takes a few steps before stopping on the railing separating the street from the hill.

He's looking in your direction instead of the view. You realize he's giving you space to sulk, to take in everything without pestering you with questions about why the hell you both just bolted instead of facing the situation.

Your gratitude towards him rises a bit more.

So your word vomit is justified, you think, because you don't want to leave him in the dark any longer.

The fantasy you indulged yourself in earlier might just grow into a reality you have to embrace, a reality you want to embrace.

“He's my ex-something and the girl he was with is the one he chose over me. I was supposed to have dinner with them— Well, no, not really,” you sigh, looking at Seonghwa who, in the deem light, just nods and waits for you to continue “He's my dad’s best friend's son and we have dinner with them every Tuesday. Their family, I mean. Deokhee… He never shows up,” you shrug “And when he does, he's alone and it's towards the end of it all so I never get to see him that long. But this?” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “I never thought he would do this to me.”

Finally getting off the bike, you walk slowly towards the railing as well and feel Seonghwa's eyes follow you as you do “He cheated on me with her, for Christ sake.” You whisper once the metal of the railing stops your step.

“How long ago?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” from the corner of your eye, you see how he shakes his head and leans in slightly “I'm wondering because if I was your dad or your brother or your friend, I would've done something to, at least, ensure something like this never happens to you.”

“Yeah, about that…” A bitter chuckle abandons you and you shrug one more time “They don't really know what happened between us— They don't know something happened in the first place,” ashamed, once again, you turn to him “He asked me to not tell anyone when we started… Ack, whatever, it doesn't really matter.”

“It does if it's affecting you,” he insists “It does if you go pale at the sight of him, Y/N. Did he do—”

“No,” you cut him off, the corners of your lips lifting a bit “He didn't do anything weird besides breaking my heart.”

“Good.”

“I would've killed him if he did, by the way.”

“As you should,” he returns right away and finally, for the first time in the twenty minutes it took both of you to get there, you laugh sincerely. That prompts a smile on his lips “Good to know he's an idiot but not that type of idiot.”

Huffing, you turn to the city before you again “The only idiot in this situation is me.”

“For loving someone? Y/N,” his hand reaches your shoulder and you close your eyes in defeat, surrendering your heart to the weird emotion it brings you “He cheated on you. He's the idiot, the dumbass, the—”

Laughing again, his rant comes to an end and you open your eyes to find him staring at you in delight “Park Seonghwa,” you start, putting a hand over his on your shoulder “You, sir, don't know me.”

The reminder does nothing to stop him from looking at you with stars in his eyes “I'm a great judge of character, Y/N.”

“And if you're wrong?”

“Then let me be wrong,” he shortens the distance a bit, the warmth on your shoulder leaving as he lowers both of your hands, not letting go “But let me get to know you first.”

The emotion grows bigger, it swirls around your heart and spreads around your body in a way you never felt. It feels good and you hate to compare it to what you felt for Deokhee but where it once was filled with regrets and doubts and a need to hold on tight to whatever that guy made you feel now sits something that you can only describe as excitement and thrill.

Peaceful, too.

It steals your breath in a beautiful way.

Squeezing his hand a little, you inhale slowly and let go of the air when you speak “I don't really do dates, Ghost.”

“I didn't ask you on a date,” he counters immediately and your cheeks darken “I asked if I could get to know you. We don't have to go on dates, talking to you is enough.”

“O-oh, I… I thought—”

He seems to get it right away because he takes another step, your arm pressed to his by now, your hands still tangled in the middle “I one hundred percent meant it that way,” he assures you, chuckling a bit “But I don't really do dates either. Asking you out to a restaurant or a movie or whatever it is people do on dates doesn't really suit me.”

“How so?”

“There's this… Weird intention laced into it, into the prospect of a date that I don't particularly enjoy. I want to get to know people and see where it takes us without pressuring ourselves into anything romantic or sexual.” Your heart picks up at that. Not at the image it paints, but at his explanation as a whole.

It shows he might be interested in you beyond something physical and it's a beautiful thing to note when, all your life, you have felt like people only wanted you for one thing and one thing only.

You intend to tell him just that but the way he's looking at you makes you forget everything else. Brown eyes scan every inch of your face and stop at your lips for a second.

Now your heart beats for a different reason.

“No matter… How bad I want to kiss you, though.”

Words fall short. They do when for the first time in a long time you entertain the possibility of letting yourself want to kiss someone else, too.

Leaning in and straightening your back fully to give you the possibility of almost standing face to face with him, you silently communicate your desire.

It's not enough. He's too respectful.

Fuck, you like him a lot already.

“If you want to kiss me then just kiss me…” you whisper, teasing smile in full display “Dummy.”

He fakes a gasp at your jab as he leans in, his pretty nose bumping into yours for a second and making you giggle, part your lips and close your eyes while buzzing with expectation.

The sky has other plans, though. It roars above you and you both look up.

It's been cloudy, a couple of days of unusual humidity throwing off everyone but you guess the steam gathered up in the clouds just in time to knock some sense of reality into you.

Or pushing you further into the craziness of this one day alone.

Seonghwa groans a little and then a phone starts ringing in someone's pocket.

Not yours, you made sure to hit the not disturb button as soon as you got ahold of it.

You should probably tell your brother you're okay.

But Seonghwa is still close to you, his lips a breath away from yours, so you put it aside when he shows no intention of picking up his call either.

The tension builds up again, both of you ignoring the thunderstorm approaching and everything else.

There's many things from today you're not going to be able to explain any time soon, the magnetic pull Seonghwa had on you the first time you laid eyes on him is one of them, the freedom you touch with your fingertips when your mind is finally off your duty, off your family…

It's so dangerous you quickly become addicted to the recklessness of it all.

And then his phone starts ringing again, so you welcome the reality that washes over you with a sour face and pout on your lips.

“The universe must be against us being a thing, huh?” You whisper and he clicks his tongue in disapproval, resting his forehead on yours for a second before pulling away completely, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“I don't think the universe has much to do with this one, dear,” he frowns and misses the way you flush at the sudden nickname. You swear on your life, normally you would be pretty disgusted at the endearment. Now? You want him to call you that again “I should take this and we should probably go somewhere else. There's not much to cover us up if it starts raining.”

“Sure, uh…” You fish your phone from your pocket as well, grimacing when you look at the missed calls and texts “I have to make a call, too.”

He seems to understand immediately “Go right ahead.”

Putting even more distance in between both of you, you faintly hear a what's going on from Seonghwa and then tap your screen to return your brother's call.

He picks up right away.

“Are you okay?!”

His tone forces your eyes closed. Rushed, you picture him in the backyard with a cigarette in between his fingers, trying to get ahold of himself without worrying everyone else too much “Yeah, I'm okay. I'm with a friend and—”

“Then why don't you pick up the fucking phone?!”

“Calm down,” taking in a breath and letting it out, you hear him do the same before continuing “Is there a way I can explain all of this to you tomorrow? I'm fine, Deokhee is a dick and I don't ever want to see him so I ran away like a—”

“What did he do?”

“No, nothing now, it's just… Listen, I'll explain tomorrow, alright? I'm staying with my friend tonight and everything will make sense tomorrow. It's really dumb, like… Teenage drama dumb,” you sigh, hoping that the minimal information you're giving him can help him figure it out “Just tell dad that I'm fine and if he asks I'm with a friend who is a girl and she's staying over at my place because there was a… Boy emergency or whatever.”

“Are you with—” what seems to click is something else and your brother gasps “Y/N!”

“Can you help out this time?”

The silence on the line seems to extend forever and guilt licks your throat, giving you the feeling that it's about to close up.

You want to grasp what you felt a minute ago again, the freedom of this, of doing too much, of unnecessarily putting Christian through it because he already did so much for you growing up.

Just tonight, at least, you owe yourself the feeling of not proving your place in your own family.

But the silence hurts and you wonder if you could ever, truly, be free from it.

“You owe me an explanation. Take care and text me goodnight at least, yeah?”

“Okay,” you whisper back “Thank you, Ian.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, kid.”

His words fill your eyes with tears again and you don't get to reciprocate them before he hangs up. You know he knows, but it still hurts when you remember how unlovable you felt before you met him as a child.

It hurts when you remember that you allowed Deokhee to make that feeling return.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

And the more it hurts, the more the sky rumbles and you fear that, if you break down here and now, it would not only embarrass you in front of Seonghwa but also strand him on this hill with you.

It doesn't matter that he calls this his breaking point, it's not yours to use.

So again, your tears stay at bay and when you turn around you catch Seonghwa looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

He wants to hug you, his body language gives him away as soon as he steps closer to you but a storm is about to soak through your clothes any second, so you pass him and grab his hand to pull him to his bike in the process.

When his fingers intertwine with yours, you know he understands. He doesn't make any questions, he doesn't press any information out of you and just allows you to climb his motorcycle.

“We need to leave.”

“Where do you want to go?” he asks, getting on the bike as well and goes in for his helmet but your words stop him.

“Do you want to stay the night with me?”

Turning his head, he blinks at you a few times and you smile a little before the curve fades away.

“I have my own place, we can order something in and just talk. Seonghwa, you…” biting the inside of your cheek, you try to approach this the right way “I don't expect this to go anywhere but can't you… Do you feel it too?”

He stays silent and you fear you might've taken it too far. But it doesn't really matter. Willing to take the risk, you take his hand on yours again and hold it close to your heart.

The sky roars again in response.

And you catch when his breath hitches because of it, too.

“Do you feel it, Seonghwa?”

A bit passes and then some, his eyes searching for something in yours and then dropping to where your heart beats again.

“What's your address?”

It's already raining by the time you both get into your building’s garage and park his Bonneville.

The entire ride was a bit long. It had you resting your head on his back while his fingers tapped against yours with impatience.

But when you make it to the safe space that is the elevator, clothes showing the evidence of the droplets falling from the sky and all, you finally get to breathe.

Until Seonghwa steals that breath away again.

He stares at you through the mirror, steps closer until he can take your face with his hands and swipes under your eyes where the makeup has run a little.

“Ghost…”

‘I didn't answer before,” he murmurs and wet his lips with his tongue. You can't help but stare at them, the moment somehow more intimate now, under the fluorescent glow of the elevator, than with the city lights and lighting above you “But I do feel it. I stand on what I said before, though.”

“No dating?”

He chuckles “No, not that,” shaking his head, he steps away when the elevator gets to your floor “I want to get to know you either way.”

“Ah. That,” you feel silly for assuming he didn't want to date you, but given your history you're not sure you can blame yourself too much “Well, you're about to see my cave, so we're both halfway there.”

As soon as you open the door and turn on the light, you can see in his face that he sees what you mean.

It's a one bedroom apartment that doesn't leave too much to the imagination. Your bedroom’s door is opened, the bathroom door is closed and the kitchen is an American style one that's separated from the living space by a small counter you can barely fit your mail on.

There's a lot of old furniture that you remodeled, painted over the cracks and stuffed where you needed the most. Your fridge is also old, the couch is somehow the only modern looking item in the living room and it stands out a bit because its material is not as worn out as everything else.

There's posters on the walls, unframed and placed randomly because, here, you don't have to be put together. The only people who come over are your brother and your dad, so it's okay.

It's not even an old building, but your apartment makes it look like one.

“Hope you don't mind the mess, Grandpa.”

“Oh, I'm not Ghost anymore?” He asks with a breathy laugh, taking his shoes off as you place yours by the entrance and shrugging his jacket off too “It's not messy, it's… Kind of like the shop, really.”

Mirroring his actions, you take off the leather jacket and welcome the warmth of your apartment “Greasy?”

“Cool,” he corrects and you walk through your space picking up a few things from the floor and putting them by the living room table “Is it yours, by the way?”

“The shop?” he nods and you walk to your fridge to fetch you both some water bottles “It's my dads. Why do you ask?”

“You seemed to own the place, with the way you walked around it,” shrugging, he takes a seat on your couch as he takes in the space “I just wondered…”

Walking in front of him on purpose, because you could've easily rounded the table and sat at the opposite edge of the couch, you sit right beside him and offer him a water bottle that he takes with a whispered thanks “You wondered…”

“A lot of stuff, actually,” he admits and you smile “Like your age, for example. Your last name, how did you end up working as a mechanic, if you were studying something, if you…” he pauses and turns to the side, resting his shoulder on the couch “If you liked me the way I liked you.”

Choking on the water you're gulping down, it's very evident you didn't think he was about to go down that lane again.

So directly, too.

He laughs, leaning in and wiping your chin with a familiarity that has you even more breathless than his confession. No, scratch that, it's all of it. All of him.

“Don't make me get on that bike again tonight, dear.”

That goddamn endearment again. You might risk it all and kiss him, chin wet and all.

“Whatever for?”

“You clearly almost choked to death,” he exaggerates, probably an excuse to stay that close to you longer than he needs to “And it was my fault, too.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you push him a bit until he falls back into his previous position, smugness tugging at his lips in a way that has your insides jolting up with excitement “I do like you, Ghost.”

“I know that now, but earlier I did wonder.”

“Wondering is such a dangerous thing, isn't it?”

His smile settles with a softness that melts you, your hand back in his with ease “Not necessarily.”

Squeezing his hand in unspoken agreement, you nod and then try to remember the topic of conversation before… Well, before he distracted you.

“Well, you were kind of right with your assumptions then. It's not my shop, but I grew up in it,” you shrug, letting go of his hand to grab your phone “We should probably wait to order something.”

“Yeah, until the monsoon dies down,” he says, looking outside your window that does little to conceal the thunderstorm outside “You grew up fixing bikes?”

“Cars,” you correct with a nod, connecting your phone to the speaker that lies under your tv “Is my day to day playlist alright?”

“Yup,” he crosses his legs on the couch and you see from the corner of your eye how his follow your actions, heat rushing to your cheeks at how attentive he is “Did you always want to be a mechanic?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you cover it up as you set the volume to the perfect percentage to let you two have a proper conversation without raising your voices “Kind of. It's all I'm good at, really,” you shrug “Also, my dad’s wife looked very cool in pictures growing up and I wanted to be just like her, so.”

“Your mom?” you shake your head and he frowns “Your stepmom?”

“No, uh…” clearing your throat, you get ready to reveal a piece of you that you rarely share with other people, even if it's obvious to everyone else “I'm adopted. Me and my brother we, mmm, we used to live in this sort of… Group house, I guess, and dad just picked us one day,” word vomiting again, once that you open the dam you don't know how to stop “I mean, he's not… We're not blood related, either, he just brought me along like when you adopt a dog at a shelter and they give you their favorite blanket, you know?”

Seonghwa is full on frowning at that and you think that, for the sake of just agreeing with you, he's going to nod and let it go, but he doesn't “I don't think you're just something your brother brought along with him. Adopting two kids is a big decision, isn't it?”

Reluctantly, you nod.

“Well, there you go.”

“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him, though,” you shrug and sip on your water bottle again, gulping the liquid to send that lump on your throat down “But it doesn't really matter because it was a long time ago and now they're both stuck with me.”

He shakes his head but laughs a little at your sudden shift and, this time, he does let it go.

But you don't.

“Thank you, by the way.”

He smiles, a little confused “For what?”

“Helping me when I needed you to. We don't really know each other and yet…”

“It feels like I know you, though.”

Sharing the sentiment, you nod “I know, it's weird but, uhm… You didn't need to do what you did for me tonight. You even took me to your breaking point!” you let out a puff of air, making it a bigger deal than what it sounds. It's a bigger deal for you, anyway “And then drove me all the way here. That's a lot.”

“It's not much. It was my fault, really,” he shrugs and shakes his head at the confused look you give him “I kind of… Asked the universe for an excuse to stay with you, so…”

“Ah, so it was your fault Deokhee showed up,” the lighthearted joke lands the way you intended because he laughs with a sound so beautiful it makes your heart pick up “Got it.”

“Do you feel better? I mean, after seeing him, are you feeling better?”

“Not really, it sucks,” you say with a bitter laugh “But I hold grudges like that. It's not…” you raise your hands in self defense suddenly “I don't want him like that anymore, it's just that I can't help but…”

“I understand,” he whispers and you let out a sigh again, grateful that he interrupted your rambling “People believe that forgive and forget is the way to go when you're resenting someone but human beings don't really work like that, hm?”

“Yeah…”

Staring at him, that weird emotion that you felt at the top of the hill comes back. That dangerous warmth that makes you want to take his hand in yours and place your lips at the back of it with a familiarity you haven't really earned yet.

So when you catch him staring at you the same way, you change the subject.

“What do you do?” eyebrow raising, you eye him suspiciously and that makes him giggle “Meetings all day, past normal shift hours…”

“I renovate spaces, Y/N,” he laughs again “You made it sound like I work with the mafia.”

“Do you?”

“No. I have a buddy that does, though.”

“Oh, so I was kind of right then?”

“Yeah, yeah…” you both laugh again and then he looks around your living space like he did when you two first got in “You were right about the whole getting to know you just by looking at your apartment.”

“I know, it says a lot about a person.”

“It does!” He's excited now, sitting straighter and turning ever so slightly, your knees bumping now “There's only a few people that I trust who have those… Beige, white and black houses or apartments and that's only because I got to know them before I saw where they live.”

“So, you have rich friends?”

He stops and thinks for a second “Yeah, they all have a lot of money. I mean, the people I'm talking about, not my friends,” you raise your eyebrow again and he chuckles “Alright, I only have one rich friend. The rest of them are broke musicians and college students. He was actually the one who called earlier and, uhm…”

“Interrupted us?” You offer, smiling.

His cheeks gain a little color, maybe from the memory “Y-yeah.”

“Everything's okay?”

“Yes! Yeah, he wanted me to go pick him up from something but I told him I couldn't because, well—”

“You were with me.”

“Mhm,” you see him gulp and the mood shifts a little bit again. His face falls down as he eyes your parted lips, leaning in again ever so slightly, like he's not really thinking it through “Couldn't leave you stranded and he has a chauffeur.”

Unconsciously, you start leaning in a bit too.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes… D-do I like what?”

You chuckle and he breathes out a laugh, too “Renovating spaces…”

Pressing his hands into the fabric on the couch, at your sides, he invades your space a little more now “I do… Do you like fixing cars?”

Nodding, your nose is a whisper away from his now “I do…”

He breathes and it lands right on your mouth, making you pant as well.

“That's good.”

“Mhm.”

Eyes closing, your lips tremble a little as you wait for him to close the distance.

“You're so fucking pretty—”

You close the distance instead, pressing your mouth into his and letting the tension deflate your posture because you're finally tasting him.

Your little fantasy is not a fantasy anymore.

And it feels so fucking good. It feels good to have someone you desire, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, reciprocate your emotions and pull you closer to make acquaintance with your taste as well.

Seonghwa makes a noise you want to engrave into your brain the second you grab his shirt and pull him to you as well. And then you move.

The couch is stuffy, your bed is a mess and the cold from the thunderstorm makes its way to your living room even if you feel your entire body lit up from the swipe of his tongue against yours.

So you stand up.

You give him a teasing smile when his mouth chases after yours once you pull away “Where are you going?”

“Another thing you should know about me,” you start, breathy, your thumb swiping your bottom lip on instinct and his eyes follow the motions “Is that I have very noisy neighbors. The woman in that apartment over there,” you point at the window right in front of yours, the building separated by the street but still close enough to tell everything that goes inside your neighbors apartment if you wanted to “Once made a complaint against me because I walked out in my underwear one time.”

“Is she blind or bitter or something?” he asks, amused by your sudden storytelling, chest heaving as you pull your curtains closed “Or both?”

“She's old,” you tell him, turning around “And you haven't seen me in my underwear to make that a point, Ghost.”

“Yet,” he smirks slyly and you blush at the implication. Seonghwa reaches for you as you pass in front of him again and slip right through his fingers a second time “Now where are you going?”

He sounds whiny.

You like that.

“Another thing you should know about me,” walking to the door and turning off the big light, the living room goes dark except for the lighting that illuminates it as you're making your way back to him, getting on your knees on the couch and reaching behind him to turn on a lamp that doesn't do much but, this way, at least you can see each other “Is that I don't invest in new shit. Can't afford it, so those curtains are useless during the day… And when the lights are turned on.”

“You don't want people to gossip about you kissing a hot guy?”

“Wow,” his cockiness is clearly a joke but you won't let the opportunity of making fun of him go “Is the hot guy in the room with us?”

He beams at you.

“Oh, shut up, Y/N.”

Humming and feeling a lot more comfortable now that you know that, in fact, the spotlight won't be on you when you keep kissing his lips raw as you intend to, you loop your index finger in the collar of his shirt and tug with minimal force at it.

He acts like you put a lot of strength while doing it, his lips a breath from yours again as a consequence.

You're about to let out a witty remark, something to keep the teasing and flirting going but then his eyes actually light up like the sky when the song playing on the speaker changes.

“That's what you were humming yesterday!” His hands fall to your waist and you all but get whiplashed at the quick change in attitude.

He looked like he was about to risk it all a second ago and now he's letting his back fall into the couch and taking you with him.

“Huh?”

“I didn't saw anyone when I came into the shop yesterday and then I heard you humming this song.”

“Oh,” you laugh, braising yourself on your forearms as he moves his hands up your back “Is one of my favorite songs by them.”

“By who?”

Eyes wide as saucers, you gape at him in disbelief “Kiss?”

“I don't know them like that!”

“You don't know this?” he giggles under your scrutinizing gaze and you follow, still in disbelief. You don't really know what possesses you, but you start singing along to the lyrics “I was made for lovin’ you, baby. You were made for lovin’ me.”

Seonghwa's laughter dies down at that and you notice it too: How the words somehow seem fitting even though you is day two of knowing him.

The way his heart beats under the palm you place right above it, on his chest, feels intoxicating.

So you descend again, your front colliding with his and your mouth grazing his beautiful one as you sing the song to him.

“And I can't get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?”

“Fuck…”

You laugh “That's not really how it goe—”

His tongue probing your lips open shuts you up for good.

Seonghwa's hands hold you close, tracing the curve on your back slowly with his thumbs until he finds that spot where your shirt rode up a little, goosebumps on your skin letting him know what he provokes on you.

There's never been a point in time where you let yourself wonder if you're moving too fast.

For you, someone who had to take every chance they got in life to get something, out of fear the opportunity wouldn't show up again, this thing you got with Seonghwa feels like it's going at the right pace.

You both like each other, that much is clear.

Nothing dramatic has really happened to bond you two together, but it feels like it has.

Like you're bonded.

Like it was fated, somehow.

Like his motorcycle had to break down and he had to walk into the shop when you were the only one there to assist him.

Like he had to see you breakdown, take you away from the despair Deokhee brings to your soul, in order for you to finally let go and move on to greater things.

And there's nothing greater than feeling his hand travel down and absentmindedly grab your ass, a noise of satisfaction slipping through your lips and landing on his at the feeling.

“I'm so—”

“I liked it,” your smile blends with his as you peck his lips and he does it again, gaining a pleased hum from you “Come here, Ghost.”

“Where?”

Disentangling your limbs from his, you follow your original plan and slip from the couch to the floor, your knees hitting the soft carpet you have under the coffee table you're grateful is not that in the way.

Seonghwa sits on the couch again, opening his legs to accommodate the new position you're in and you see the image get to him before the suggestion hits your head.

You see him gulp when you lick your lips and then it's your turn to gulp, trying to understand if this is something he wants as much as you want it.

Because suddenly you want it. You want it so much.

It doesn't take much to gather up the courage to touch him, his thighs inviting you to caress them with your nails, teasing, testing him “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, hooded eyes and a soft, whiny, trembling tone making fidget on your knees “More than okay.”

It makes you smile. But there's things to clear up before you go any further.

“I don't want you to think I brought you to my house just to get on my knees in front of you, Seonghwa.”

“I don't… I w-would never think that,” you nod and he releases a shuddering breath “I don't want you to think that this is all I want from you either, Y/N.”

“I don't think that,” you whisper “but thank you for making it clear.”

“Mhm, I… Oh.” He stops when your touch trails higher and you take your hands away.

“You wanted to say something else?”

“N-no.”

Squinting your eyes at him, you press “You sure?”

“I was going to say that I want you… S-so please touch me, please.”

Who would've thought that a man begging would turn you on so, so much?

You catch on to it immediately. Lowering your hands again, this time around his calves, you pull him a little so he can sit on the edge of the worned out couch.

He follows suit.

“You want me to touch you?” you murmur and he nods “Where?”

He closes his eyes, blush beautifully creeping up his neck “Y/N…”

“You asked me to touch you, but I already was…” you say, like it's the most obvious thing ever “So where do you want to be touched, hm?”

Straightening your spine and angling yourself upwards, your nose hovers just below his chin. Hands starting to go up again, you hear his breath hitched when your palm grabs into the fabric of his pants before letting it go, the sound of it hitting the skin under making you and him release a noise.

“How do you want to be touched?”

Looking down, Seonghwa's mouth barely brushes your nose when he says “So it's going to be like this?”

“It's working for you,” you whisper back, the pad of your fingers pressing on his inner thighs and, when you look down, the tent in his pants curves your lips with pride that shows when you turn to him again “Isn't it?”

Pupils blown, he bites down on his lip and you see, for a slight second, a switch in his demeanor that makes you want to drop the teasing just to ask him to take you right there, on the floor, on the couch, wherever he wants to.

But, as soon as your fingernails trace the outline of his cock, he switches back “P-please...”

He doesn't have to beg you anymore.

Desperate to have him squirming under your touch, you push a little with your thumbs and he whines, a sweet sound you can't treasure as long as you want to because hand grabs your neck and his mouth crushes yours in want.

In a few seconds, the button of his pants is off and the fabric is pooling at his ankles. You help him out of them, his mouth never leaving yours except when you two break apart to pass sweet moans in between kisses and barely there bites.

Boxers succumbing to the same fate as his pants, you get him needy and panting into your open mouth as you finally take him fully into your hand.

Pumping one and then twice, you finally pull away to look at him and the sight that welcomes you is beautiful, big and oozing at the tip.

Eyes connecting with Seonghwa’s again, you make sure he's looking at you before gathering spit and letting it fall into your hand.

He moans.

And then he moans a little more when you start working his length, butt connecting to the carpet once again to give him attention fully.

It feels invigorating, the control he gives you makes you float into an intimate space you never had the opportunity to explore before and that just adds up to the list of things you're grateful for.

You take in his reactions, the way he's having a hard time keeping his mouth shut when you get close to the tip and tease it before going back down, the way his breath catches in his throat when you lean in and blow some air on it before letting yourself have a taste of him.

Licking around the tip and eyeing him as you do so, you get to catch him throw his head back in bliss. Then, you indulge both of you a little bit more: hollowing your cheeks, you move forward to take him in your mouth.

And then you moan around him at the feeling and he shivers under the palm you placed on his knee to keep steady as you suck him off.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dear,” he encourages and you bat your eyelashes at him teasingly, making him chuckle before whining again. Tangling his fingers on your head to guide you to the right speed, he closes his eyes and curses under his breath “So fucking good.”

It only makes you want to hear him again. So you do your best to stay on him, breathing through your nose and continuing your ministrations as you moans above you, filling your living room with sounds you want to plaster across the walls, encapsulate in a bottle to hear them again when he's not with you.

You take him deeper and his grasp on your head tenses before you release him with a lewd sound you didn't really intend to make.

Breathing hard, you let out a whine when he tilts your head back. He looks at you with indescribable desire, want and a little smile that prones yours.

“You have no idea,” he starts, leaning in to take you mouth with his again, tongue swiping at the saliva that gathered under your bottom lip “How bad I want to ruin you now.”

Oh, so maybe he's not as submissive as you thought. You should've guessed it, the slight switch and the little glint earlier would've hinted you his true intimate nature if you weren't so busy trying to get the act up.

“Only if you want to, of course.”

And yet, he's such a fucking gentleman. You can practically feel yourself getting wetter at his words.

Your whisper is sweet, a confirmation on what you want and what he obviously wants to hear “Come here, Ghost.”

You make space for him on the floor and he doesn't question why the both of you are not on the way to your bed right now.

He seems to like it, even, so you giggle into his mouth at his eagerness to lay you down on the soft carpet and hum appreciatively when his hands bypass your shirt and grab your bare waist to accommodate you both into a comfortable position.

With his leg in between yours and his chest pressed against you, he kisses you until you're pliant, needy and janking him down to earn some sort of friction.

Mouth descending down your cheek, into your jaw and then your neck, Seonghwa scatters kisses in the soft spots like he already mapped you out with his mouth.

His hands touch you where you like, his knee bumps into your core to keep you there as he works his way through you like he had you like this before and it's addicting.

It feels right.

He mouths at the valley of your breasts and softly sinks his teeth into the flesh through your shirt and it makes you dizzy, letting out a moan that makes him smile.

Touching him too, you give his back some attention before sinking your fingers on his silky hair and tugging at the strands.

He kisses down, down, down until he reaches your belly and then bites you the same way he did seconds ago “Ghost…”

“Say my name, Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“I love when you call me Ghost,” he starts, breathing hard and you watch his nose disappear under the fabric of your shirt, raising it a bit more when he moves to be eye to eye with you “but I want you to call my name if I'm making you feel good,” kissing the sense out of you for a few seconds, he talks against your mouth “Can you do that for me, dear?”

“Yes,” you barely nod, opening your eyes to find his “Seonghwa.”

The way you whisper his name, needy and teasingly at the same time, seems to wake something else in him.

Because in a second, he's asking you to raise your body a little so he can take your shirt off. You help him with his and he moves to undo the clasp on your bra after asking for permission one more time and you shouldn't really find his insistent questioning of consent so hot but you do.

He takes his time with you, exploring you with his mouth as you do your best to keep still under him. He kisses your chest, rounding your nipples with his tongue and taking them into his mouth after.

Lightning illuminates the room and electricity runs through you and settles into your core.

“Seonghwa…”

The sky roars when he gives your legs attention over the fabric of your pants, moans blending into the thunder and the sound of the raindrops against the window when he pulls back and raises your left leg to kiss a path from your ankle to your thigh.

You buck your hips at the feeling, asking for more without really saying anything and he smiles before moving to your right leg and giving it the same amount of attention.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks and you're about to call him out for being mean and clueless, but his smirk proves he's only teasing “Where do you want me to touch you, Y/N?” voice low and dripping in honey, he unbuttons your pants and you're not too fucked out yet to know he's returning the way you tortured him earlier “How do you want me to touch you?”

Your pants end up meeting with his somewhere under the coffee table and you smile when he zeroes on the wet patch your arousal has formed on your underwear.

And, unlike him, you're not actually humble in asking what you want “Don't you want to taste the mess you've made, Seonghwa?”

When he eats you out, he makes sure to taste it real good. Open you up with his fingers, learn the right pace and pressure until heat pools on your lower abdomen and you're incoherently babbling praises under your breath.

When you come undone on his tongue, you make sure to repeat his name like a mantra. Over and over again until he's sated with his meal and leaves the remnants of it in wet marks as he makes his way up to your mouth.

Tasting yourself on his tongue is heaven.

“Sound so pretty for me, you're so… Fuck, Y/N.”

Taking him into your hand again, his dick twitches at the sudden attention it's getting and you explore the skin on his neck, lap at his collarbone and nuzzle against it because you just can't get enough.

“I want you inside me, Seonghwa,” you whisper against his skin and you see him close his eyes when your other hand joins you on his chest, thumb against his nipple “Ruin me like you promised, hm?”

He grabs your chin, eyes dark with passion and affection in a way you never want to forget “Your filthy mouth might be the death of me.” He whispers and you giggle, bratty.

“Good, I never want you to forget it,” you whisper back “I never want you to forget me.”

“Never in a million years, dear.”

Happy at his response, you kiss him and feel the warmth of his hand leaving you to try and grab his pants again. You giggle when he curses lowly, letting go of him so he can take a condom out of his wallet with a smile on his face.

He looks back at you in the process, shaking his head in amusement at the way you're taking the tender pause and he's smiling when he rolls on the condom as well as when he lowers himself so he can kiss you senseless again.

When Seonghwa enters you, the whiny mess he was when you first touched him makes its comeback and you welcomed it as you sink your nails into the skin of his waist, accompanying his slow movements as he eases you open.

Soon, you're a whiny mess too. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear and kisses your shoulder while you hug him tight to you and let yourself get lost in the buck of his hips and the way he slows downs to make the moment last, like you're not planning on keeping him in your life and making him see stars whenever he wants.

When he picks up the pace, the living room is warmer than it was when you first came in and the cold from the storm outside it's forgotten as his sweaty forehead rests on yours and his hips snap into yours with vigor.

“That’s it, dear. God, you feel so good…”

Ruin you he does. Because this time, as he flicks your clit with his thumb and you come, it solidifies the fact that there's no one else you want.

Is it crazy and a little rushed because you just met him? Yes.

Do you give a damn? No. No you fucking dont.

He ruins you for good and for everyone else, as well.

“Seonghwa! Fuck, fuck, don't stop.” You beg, overstimulated and hips aching, but wanting him to reach his high so badly none of that matters.

When his hips stutter, you take his ass with your hands and keep him in place, buried deep inside of you and walls pulsing around him as he comes with a beautiful cry and a rasp of your name in his throat.

Panting, you take the opportunity to kiss his face as he comes down, nose slowly caressing his with affection and gratefulness and emotion you can't express because it's not the time yet.

“God, Y/N.” He breathes out with a chuckle and you reciprocate it, kissing his mouth once more before deflating against the soft carpet under you.

“I know,” you look at him, at his fucked out expression and the cute way he kisses the hand you use to wipe the sweat out of his face makes you feel giddy and in love, even if you know you're aren't in love with him yet “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.”

Laughing, he nods in agreement “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.”

He kisses you again and then pulls out, making a quick work on the condom and asking for the bathroom so he can dispose of it before making his way back to you.

When he does, you're already sitting down, still naked, but sipping at your forgotten water bottle. Sitting down next to you, he places a kiss on top of your head.

The carpet is definitely going to use some cleaning after tonight, but that's okay.

There's a bit of comfortable silence as you both recover from the amazing sex you just had. He takes a sip of your water bottle as well and then there's another thunder that shakes your window and all, making you both jump a little.

Seonghwa “Do you… Mind if I stay over?”

You snort “I wasn't planning on letting you go anywhere, Ghost.”

He smiles, getting close to your face again “Even if it stops raining?”

You nod, pecking his lips “Even if I have to go and clean up my room just for you.”

“Oh, wow,” he whistles loud and you push him in feign annoyance, looking around for your underwear “You like me, like me.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

He attempts to hug you but you push him away again and stand up, making a quick job of putting your panties back on “Say that you like me and I'll let you kidnap me if you want.”

“That's not how kidnapping works, idiot.”

He gets up as well, taking his underwear and putting it on as he follows you around your apartment.

You quicken your step, but he catches you right as you enter the mess in your bedroom. He hugs you tight, you back against his bare chest and his chin on your shoulder a second later “I'll honestly let you keep me even if you say you hate me, Y/N.”

Is sweet and it should make you cringe but you all but melt against his touch. There's no really a need to tell him you like him when you place his hand on top of your chest so he can take in the way your heart beats for him for the second time tonight.

“Good,” you turn a little, smiling at him and then turning to your room again “Do you want to help me clean this up just to make it messy again?”

“Y/N!”

Seonghwa doesn't help you clean your room. He, in fact, makes it a lot messier as soon as you two get into bed and when he falls asleep he dreams of a life where he can be by your side every night.

The only thing that disturbs his sweet dreams is the way you squirm in his hold and he can't quite place the reason for it until he hears the loud, banging alarm ringtone he has set at six thirty so he can get ready for work.

Murmuring and still half asleep, you slap his chest so he can tend to it “Turn it off, Ghost.”

He does and he checks the time and the screen of his phone to find a message from his boss. It reads something about taking the opportunity to take the rainy day and work from home or something like that and Seonghwa can confirm, looking through your bedroom window, that the rain falls softly against it still.

He smiles, grateful to have his laptop with him so he can work on his report if you decide not to kick him out first thing in the morning, and then rolls back to you so he can cuddle you and sleep in for the first time in months of commuting to the office.

Then his phone rings again.

Both of you groan at the sound and you sit up, the big t-shirt you put on after taking a shower gathering messily around your waist and he almost forgets about the call at the sight of you.

You're so beautiful.

“Pick it up and tell them to go fuck themselves for calling you so early. What the fuck.”

He smiles “Bossy.”

“You like it.” You say, smiling back and falling on top of him as he answers the call from an unknown number, your cheek resting on his chest.

He makes sure his voice sounds extra sleepy when he does “Hello?”

“Good morning, mister Park!” It's a woman on the line, a voice he recognizes but can't quite place yet “I'm sorry to wake you up, but yesterday you asked me what good you're to me… Guess what? You can find out today!”

She sounds sarcastic and tired and like she drank seventy energy drinks to stay awake. Seonghwa scavenges his brain until the memory hits him “Miss Kim?”

You look up at that, curious.

“The one and only. Now, tonight you will accompany me to a party and—”

“Miss Kim—”

“I'm not finished,” you cuts him off, annoyed “At the party, I need you to pretend to be my boyfri—”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I will not go to the party with you and no, I will not pretend to be your boyfriend.”

Now, you sit up on the bed again and frown at him. He shrugs and sits up as well.

“This could be a really great opportunity for you to gain connections and—”

“Miss Kim,” he starts and, after taking in the sudden desperation on her voice, he sighs “I'm flattered you have taken me into consideration for this… Particular, uhm, job?” He offers, feeling awkward as hell “But my day is taken and I'm not single anymore, so I can't do it.”

He watches you as you break into a little knowing smile and he smiles back, not even the disappointed sigh Miss Kim lets out on the other side of the line can break him away from the spell you so easily put him under.

“This is very inconvenient for me but I hope you and the cool girl I saw yesterday are happy together… Even if it ruins my happiness forever!” She sounds like she doesn't really mean the last part but it's trying hard to make it seem like she does “God… Ugh. Don't mention this to my brother and please cover that stupid tree up, okay? Goodbye.”

She hangs up before he even gets the chance of saying goodbye or asking if she'll be okay. He has friends who wouldn't pass the opportunity to fake a relationship and go to a party, anyway.

“So,” you start, getting on your knees and making your way back to him “What the fuck was that?”

He reaches for your waist without really thinking about it, like he's been doing it his whole life and you sit on his lap like this is a morning routine you two crafted with years of experience.

“I don't really know. Remember my client's sister?” you nod “She wanted me to be her fake boyfriend at a party tonight, I think.”

“And you told her you're not single anymore to save face because you didn't want to go?”

“I told her I wasn't single because I'm not,” he says, honestly “Even if you're not my girlfriend right now… I don't really want to see anyone else but you, so…”

You fake a gasp and he rolls his eyes, smiling like an idiot when you lean in to leave a peck on his lips “And I was about to kick you out ten minutes ago!”

Pouting, he holds you tighter “Why?”

“That stupid alarm almost made me.”

“I turned it off!”

You laugh at the way he pretends to be offended and you're about to say something else before his phone starts ringing like crazy.

It's not a call, it's a message notification.

He turns to it and sees that Yunho is spamming the group chat with emojis.

“Oh, God,” he sighs “What now?”

“Is that your friend from yesterday?”

“Mhm.”

When Seonghwa scrolls to the messages to find something that can indicate what the hell is going on, he reads something a little alarming.

Does anyone want to skip town tonight?

He blocks the phone and tosses it into the bed, turning to your worried form with a smile “Do you want to meet my friends tonight?”

You seem to get it immediately.

“I would love to, Ghost,” you lean in to kiss him again, softly “Only if you introduce me as your girlfriend and not your mechanic, though.”

Heart beating with a wonderful song, he agrees with soft yes and kisses you dumb for the first time today.

He almost misses the deadline for his report, too.

It's not really his fault that he can't get enough of you.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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minkiverse · 3 months

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JEONG YUNHO FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Park Seonghwa - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho

The most boyfriendiest member of Ateez!!! I have like fully signed up to the idea that people who bias Yunho, write some of the best fics. THERE ARE JUST TOO MANY COINCIDENCES!!!!!! asdffgkfg anyway, I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!!!!!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

save a horse, ride a cowboy + horses are still overrated - @yunhoszn 🔥⛈️💗 Cowboy!Yunho

i loooove a hallmark type romance ok i cant help it 😭😭 but city girl!mc meeting and falling for cowboy!yunho its just so good like damn i wish that were me 😔😔

blinding faith - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️ Cult AU ✧ Ongoing

other members do appear in this but this yunho is absolutely terrifying!!!👏👏 he is such a commanding presence and how the mc is so enraptured by him makes me so curious of how this will play out!!!

summer nights + summer's end - @honeyhotteoks 🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers AU ✧ Roommate AU

if honeyhotteoks is writing im reading ok its as simple as that👏👏 this yunho is such a goddamn tease but also how could you not fall deeply in love with him???

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES

realistic sex with yunho - @byuntrash101 🔥

Stay Quiet - @desirehorizon 🔥

Early Hours - @honeyhotteoks ✨🔥💗 Idol AU

this is MY yuyu fic!!!!! how this author writes yunho is the most endearing and like feels so genuinely him i could melt 🫠🫠 and this fic is just pure indulgence 👏👏 i feel like the trope of running into an idol after a concert has been done a lot, but this is just written so well and i cannot count the amount of times i have re-read this asfdgfghf

jeong yunho boyfriend texts - @koizekomi 🍑 College AU

lovers in the night - @atzfilm 🔥⛈️ Sugar Daddy AU ✧ Exes to Lovers AU

the drill - @byuntrash101 ✨🔥

like i said in my tags, i love losers with big dicks ok i cant help it 😔😔 like yuyu being so nervous was just so cute but then how this man is when he is fucking !?!?!! 😩😩😩

A helping hand - @yeosbbm 🔥 Roommates AU

opposites attract - @tainsan 🔥💗 College AU ✧ Tutor!Yunho

puppy pjs - @deathbyyeekies 💗

yunho princess treatment - @planet-dusk 🔥

first time - @ateezscupid 🔥 College AU ✧ Aphrodisiacs

Try Again - @desirehorizon 🔥⛈️ Exes to Lovers AU

PUPPYBOYS4YOU.COM - @kitten4sannie 🔥Camboy AU

A "First" Date - @wooyoungiewritings 🔥💗 Friends to Lovers AU

Untitled - @lovelyuyu 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

tupelo - @puddingyun 🔥💗 Actor AU

Tight - @sxcret-garden 🔥

NSFW Alphabet - @sxcret-garden 🔥

body language - @k-hotchoisan 🔥 Brother's Best Friend AU

attention - @seonghwaddict 💗

Want me to teach you? - @shocymer 🔥College AU

the best of the best - @seonghwaddict 🔥 Cyberpunk 2077 AU

boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

outlaw - @pirateprincessblog 🔥⛈️ Wild West AU

Stuffed - @desirehorizon 🔥

Feeling Like I Do - @sorryimananti-romantic 💗 Friends to Lovers AU

#ateez #ateez fic recs #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #merengue makes lists

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bvidzsoo · 4 months

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From people you know, to people you don't

𝝙 Boyfriend!Yunho 𝝙

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

∞ Warning: cursing, blood, manhandling ∞ Word count: 3.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, lovers to exes to acquittances!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Yunho wasn't the same man you had once known. What he had turned into, you didn't know. But you did know one thing, you'd do anything to keep your daughter safe and away from him.

∞ A/N: Hello...we don't speak of this. I know I'm supposed to be writing my thesis and Love Me Like A Rockstar (and Beyond The Obscure), but my mind had been plagued with short drabbles for all of our boys so...yeah, I'm writing a mafia drabble for all of them, it seems like it:) Yunho is the first one to start off this new mini-series, and the next members will be posted randomly. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated, I hope you enjoy!

𝝙 Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥

It hadn’t always been like this. Yunho hadn’t always been like this. Five years ago when we had met, he was a sweetheart. He was attentive and the kindest man I have ever known, so loving and a safe place. He bought me flowers every third day and took us out on dates every Friday, all throughout those two years that we had been together for. But then…somehow the cracks in his character started showing. His smiles became less genuine and his once protective hold became possessive and painful. There was something about his eyes that didn’t hold any warmth anymore, just scary, icy coldness that kept you rooted to your spot, shaking and praying to a God that he wouldn’t pounce on you and do only God knows what to you. He became a predator ready to hunt his prey…even if his prey was me. The woman he had once claimed to love furiously and ardently, an emotion now turned into constant anger and hatred whenever he looked in my direction.

I have never truly understood what I have done wrong, but after a while, I stopped trying to understand. I stopped trying to decipher who Jeong Yunho truly was, and why he was the way he was. I stopped trying to make it work between us when I found out that a fragile life was growing inside of me. I wasn’t ready to become a mother at the fragile age of twenty-four, but I wasn’t capable of letting the baby go no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. Despite our quickly deteriorating relationship, that baby had been conceived with love, and I knew deep down Yunho was a good man, he had just lost his way in life. And I was scared of him and of whatever he was capable of after that fated night.

A storm was raging outside, lightning illuminating the night sky every few minutes, thunder shaking the ground. I had a bad feeling, a really bad one, as I gripped my warm mug tightly in my hands, staring out the window. Yunho was supposed to be home by now, hours ago, actually, but he wasn’t. And he wasn’t answering my calls nor my texts. A tightness seemed to grip at my throat, prohibiting me from drinking any tea furthermore. The crash of the front door made me jump out of my skin, heart racing as I hurried to the hallway, stopping in my tracks at the sight of my boyfriend. Except that he looked nothing like my boyfriend. Dripping wet from head to toe, black hair falling in his cold eyes menacingly, panting through his open mouth, something red tainting his white t-shirt and seemingly dripping down his forearm. The right sleeve of his leather jacket had been sliced open and I could see a red wound peeking through angrily. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to make sense of the situation, hands slightly trembling as Yunho’s eyes slowly drifted upwards, settling on my form. I had planned on telling him tonight that I was pregnant, that we were expecting a baby, but I wasn’t so enthusiastic about it anymore. I was…scared of the man standing in our hallway, in our, once, safe home.

“Yunho,” I whispered, trying to mask the fear in my voice, “what happened to you?”

Yunho said nothing as he kicked his shoes off, my body stiffening as I finally noticed what he held in his left hand. A knife. A knife coated in red. A bloody knife. My heart started racing as Yunho’s eyes never left my form as he advanced towards me, unknowingly backing me against the living room’s closed door, making me gasp. He smelled…like smoke and like iron, like blood. What had he done? Who was this man standing in front of me?

“I had to take care of some business.” My once beloved boyfriend’s voice was deep, eyes dead as he looked me all over the face, his jaw clenching, “Business you fucked up, apparently.”

“M—me?” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact when Yunho’s eyes sharply found mine. He chuckled, but it wasn’t amused, it sounded sarcastic and irritated.

“Yeah, you.” He hissed, closing the gap between our bodies, reflexively making me hold onto my tummy. I was too early on in the pregnancy to show, yet I was already oh so protective of my little fragile baby, “And it’s the last time this happens, understood?”

“I—I don’t understand—” I stilled when Yunho’s large palm caressed my cheek, just a remnant of how he once used to do it, “I don’t understand what I had done.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Yunho chuckled, sneering, “you are too dumb to understand. How about you change workplaces?”

“What?” I muttered confused, flinching when he gripped my jaw tightly, yanking me forward, “Why?”

“I wouldn’t want the police tracing back anything to me, you know?” Yunho mused, the look on his face anything like him. He looked almost crazed, he looked dangerous.

“Did you kill someone?” My voice was barely above a whisper as we stared into each other’s eyes, my heart almost beating out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe as Yunho remained silent, a small smile stretching onto his lips as if I had said something funny. But instead of an answer, he just pressed his damp lips against mine, almost making me jerk away from him. But he held me in a vice like grip and the door behind me stopped me from going anywhere. When I didn’t kiss back, he bit my bottom lip and forced my lips apart, pinning me against the door as his tongue slipped inside my mouth, bringing tears to my eyes.

Yunho wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with anymore. He was someone else, someone that resembled the devil and was capable of anything. And so I had realized I had to save myself and our baby before it was too late for the two of us, before Yunho did something horrible to us.

And after that night, I ran away without even as much as glancing back, without having any regrets. I was scared that he’d try to find me, but he never reached out. I left a note on the fridge, in the kitchen, saying that I couldn’t do this anymore and that I was breaking up with him, starting anew. I moved towns, somewhere far away from him, to a city that was filled with life and so many people that even if he looked in every nook and cranny he still wouldn’t be able to find us. Hyeri, our little daughter, and I, that is. Who will be turning three years old today. Life had been…quiet ever since I decided that Hyeri and I would do just fine on our own. Except for my mother, nobody knew where I had moved to. I was too scared that our mutual friends would tell Yunho about our whereabouts, therefore I broke contact with everyone from my old life.

Here, in the big city, I was cautious of who I allowed close to myself and to my daughter, but so far I was lucky enough to only meet genuine and lovely people. Hyeri seemed to like it here too, the little girl growing quicker than I could wrap my mind around it. Soon, she’d be going to daycare. Our day was long due to the little birthday party I had thrown for her, only inviting over my mother, my best friend and colleague from work, Hyeri’s two friends she met at the playground a year ago, and well, the landlord of my previous apartment whom I had become friends with soon after moving here. He was a funny and considerate man, always eager to help me out. My mother kept saying he had a harmless crush on me and that I should give him a chance, but I wasn’t ready to date yet, and besides…my mother somehow missed the fact that he was gay and happily in a relationship.

After having tucked Hyeri in and cleaned the house as best as I could once everyone left, I finally had a moment to myself as I went back to the kitchen and opened the highest cabinet I could reach to grab a glass and my favorite brand of wine. I settled at the table and popped the bottle open, pouring myself an acceptable amount of wine, relaxing into the chair as I placed one leg up on it, hooking my arm around it. I closed my eyes and savored the almost sweet taste of the wine, sighing quietly and being thankful that it was finally the weekend. I could forget for two days about the massive workload I had at my job, papers upon papers pilling up on my desk, a constant reminder of how overworked I was while being underpaid. But I suppose that’s just how things seem to work nowadays. I must be thankful that I make enough to provide for myself and my lovely Hyeri, still.

As I let my head fall forward and rest on my knee, a floorboard seemed to creak in the hallway. Did Hyeri have another nightmare? Or was just the house settling? I listened closely, but I haven’t heard Hyeri’s door opening, so it couldn’t have been her. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms stood and my body froze, sensing danger before I could even see it. I shoot up from the chair when I heard the floorboards creak again, and prayed to God that it was just my best friend coming back, having left something here. She had a key, after all, she was allowed to let herself in without announcing that she was coming. However, the tall and sturdy figure standing in my kitchen’s doorway made my heart drop to my stomach, hand clenching tightly around the glass of wine I was still holding onto for comfort.

Jeong Yunho.

But how—I had escaped him. Forever. I ran away, I did everything, I—my thoughts kicked into overdrive as I realized Hyeri was just a few doors down, sleeping in her bed, unassuming of the monster standing inside our home. I had to protect her. I just had to. Yunho could never know, he could take me, he could kill me, but he would never touch my Hyeri.

“Fancy little house,” Yunho’s voice was just as deep as three years ago, perhaps deeper now, as his eyes scouted the place, “looks like the dream house you always told me about.”

I gulped, unable to respond as Yunho pursed his cherry-red lips, stepping further inside the kitchen. Strangely, his shoes were missing and so was his jacket. Blue jeans clung to his long legs, a little baggy, and a grey sweater warmed his torso, some university’s name printed on the front of it, his silver rosary hanging over it. Yunho looked like—the man I had once loved. Like the dream guy I thought I was lucky to score. But I knew who he was, what he hid underneath that sheep mask of his. There was a wolf underneath, a dangerous predator waiting for you to lower your walls, to let him in, to be vulnerable.

“What are you doing here?” I found my voice at last, when his fingers touched the petals of the flowers I had placed in a vase, in the middle of the round table I had in my kitchen. Those were my favorite flowers; the same ones Yunho would always buy for me.

“I was passing through the city,” Yunho explained, smiling a little as he noticed a picture of my mother and I stamped onto the fridge, “thought I could stop by and say hi.”

“No.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as my heart did somersaults against my ribcage, “No, you can’t—you just broke in, Yunho! I’m calling the cops—”

“It’s not called breaking in when you have a key.” I all but blanched as he grabbed some keys out of his pocket and dangled them towards me. My blood froze over, body going numb. How did he have that? Just how?! “And the cops won’t be doing anything, my dear—”

“Don’t call me that,” I all but almost shouted, forgetting for a second that I had a little child in the house, “Don’t—you can’t be here, Yunho. You have to get out, right now.”

The friendliness slipped from his face as his eyes darkened, slowly walking around the table, coming closer. I backed away from him, trying to aim for the door, but before I could make a run for it, his hand had already wrapped around my arm, yanking my body into his. I gasped, his once familiar cologne wafting through my nose as Yunho’s dark eyes focused on my face, the same chocolate color as they used to be. But they were cold again, just like three years ago. He really wasn’t the man I had once loved.

“Oh, Y/N,” He sighed, leaning down and nuzzling his head against my neck, nose pressing into my skin, “I have missed you so much.”

I was shaking, frozen to the spot, trying to come up with an escape plan. I would have to go to the police, I needed help. How did he find me?!

“Get off.” I whispered, hands gripping his arms to the point my nails dug through his sweater, “Yunho, let go of me!”

Yunho groaned, pulling back to grab me by the nape as he lowered his head to be eye-level with me. I glared at him fiercely as I tried to wrestle myself out of his hold, but he grabbed my right arm and flushed it against himself, pinning my arm to his back.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to find you?” He sounded amused, yet his expression conveyed annoyance, “Did you think you could hide from me?”

My chest was rising and falling quickly as my glare bore into his eyes, his glare just as menacing as mine, “Did you think you could end things like that between us?”

“Yes.” I hissed, fed up by always feeling so small and scared of him, “I left you. There’s no us anymore and there’ll never be, Yunho. You’re a—criminal! You’re not the man I fell in love with, and I have nothing to do with you anymore.”

“That’s not how a relationship works, my dear, we take that decision together.” Yunho snapped, his perfectly calm mask finally slipping as he seethed, jaw tense and a fire in his eyes, “I am still the same man you fell in love with, I’m just not afraid to show all sides of myself to you anymore, Y/N.”

“You tricked me.”

“I didn’t.”

Silence fell around us as we both breathed through our mouths, breaths mingling as our faces were close to each other. My cheeks were slowly flushing from the adrenaline that was coursing through my bloodstream, ears ringing as I started feeling helpless. I had to get away, I needed to get Hyeri and flee this place.

“You would’ve ran away if you knew who I truly was so early on, Y/N.” Yunho sounded defeated as he averted his eyes to the floor, finally releasing my arm he had pinned to his back, instead cradling my face with both hands as he walked me backwards towards the table. I gasped as the back of my thighs hit the sturdy surface, and I held onto Yunho’s sides, trying not to fall backwards.

“Yet I still ran away, Yunho.” I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat, “You scared me away. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“That’s a wish I can’t grant you, I’m sorry.” He licked his lips as his thumbs started caressing my cheeks, his chocolate brown eyes falling onto my lips. My heart seemed to stutter when he leaned closer, his eyes fluttering almost shut, and when he was mere centimeters away from my lips, he paused. I gulped, heart hammering in my chest as I gripped his wrists, his hold turning painful, “When were you going to tell me?”

It was merely a whisper, but with how close he was to me, I heard it crystal clear. I went rigid, suddenly fearing for my daughter’s and my own life again, “What are you talking about?”

When Yunho’s eyes shifted to the side, where the fridge was, and I followed with my own, I stopped breathing. We were both looking at the drawing made by Hyeri, a little girl standing in the middle, holding two women’s hands. Mine and my mother’s. They stood in front of a house, smiles on their faces and with a sun that was a little too big for the otherwise cute drawing. I have never felt dread up until that moment consume my whole being, and before I could stop myself, my eyes glassed over and I gripping onto the collar of Yunho’s sweater, trying to breathe regularly.

“Yunho, no—please—you can’t—”

“I can’t what?” He looked beyond furious, hands crushing my cheeks as a few tears rolled down the,, “She’s my daughter too.”

“No, please.” I tried not to sob, scared it would wake Hyeri, “You can’t—I—I won’t let you. You can’t hurt her. I won’t let you, Yunho, she’s mine—”

“She’s ours.” Yunho snapped, shaking me in the process, making me whimper as I grabbed onto his face.

“Please, Yunho, just leave—just leave us alone.” I begged him, flinching as he started wiping my tears away, almost with a fascinated look on his face.

“You were never going to tell me, right?” He asked in a whisper, suddenly looking very sad. My heart stilled and I felt bad, but then I had to remind myself that he had killed someone and that he had probably done so many worse things that I didn’t know about, and didn’t want to know about. I never truly knew who Jeong Yunho was, and I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t let him come back in our lives. He would ruin everything again.

“I—”

“Mommy?” Both Yunho and I froze, our eyes going wide before Yunho was letting me go, stepping back, looking shocked as his eyes quickly fell on his daughter. I quickly wiped my cheeks clear of tears and tried not to sniff as I turned to smile at our daughter, forcing myself to mask my distress.

“My love,” I chuckled, walking around the table to get to her, scared that Yunho would try to do something, “you’re awake?”

“Bad dream.” Hyeri whined as she rubbed at her eyes, giggling when I hastily picked her up. My heart was beating even faster than before as I tucked her head against my neck, shielding her view from Yunho, who was unresponsive as he stared at us wide eyed. I didn’t know how he’d react, and I was terrified. The resemblance between Hyeri and Yunho was unmistakable. She was an exact replica of Yunho with her round cheeks, freckles spreading around it, and pouty lips, even her eyes were the same light color as Yunho’s in the sunlight. Her temperament, too, was similar to Yunho’s. My daughter was a constant reminder of who I once used to love, yet I could never hold that against her. She was everything I have ever wished for, my light, my life.

When Yunho went to take a step towards us, I quickly backed away, walking out of the kitchen altogether, seemingly making him freeze. He gulped, eyes searching my face for something, but I was begging him to stay back and leave us alone. His hands balled up into fists at his side and I feared what would come next.

“Who is man?” Hyeri mumbled against my neck, peaking at Yunho with her eyebrows furrowed. Yunho and her shared a long look, and it broke my heart as Hyeri gave me an even more confused look than before, “Is he uncle?”

I could only hope she was too young to understand reality.

“No,” Hearing Yunho’s soft voice made me jump and caught Hyeri’s attention again, “just someone—who loves mommy and you.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying in front of our daughter and instead forced a smile on my face as Hyeri looked at me wonderingly, “Really?”

“Yes.” I answered her, my own voice sounding unsure and shaky, “Let’s go to sleep while this man leaves, alright?”

“Mommy,” Hyeri mumbled, looking at Yunho again, eyebrows furrowing, “can man tuck me in?”

“What—” I whispered confused, looking at Yeri with furrowed eyebrows, “no, he—”

“Please.” But Yunho’s pleading voice full with regret shut me up quickly as he slowly approached us, very reluctantly reaching his hand out to pet Hyeri’s fluffy hair, “Please.”

And when Yunho’s eyes found mine again, I was alarmed to see the man I had once fallen in love with. Desperate, begging with everything he could, yet reluctant to reach out. Just who was Jeong Yunho?

“Just this once.” I whispered, arms tightening around Hyeri as Yunho’s face lit up, eyes clearing of the tears he was holding back.

“Thank you.” He’s never looked so grateful before, and my eyes widened when he pressed a swift kiss against my lips, making Hyeri giggle in my arms. And before I could interfere, Hyeri was making grabby hands at Yunho, smiling brightly as he carefully took her in his arms, cradling his daughter against his chest like it was his most prized possession. Yunho’s eyes shone like they were the sun and I stood frozen as he walked towards her bedroom, Hyeri muttering things to him that I couldn’t hear.

What was I going to do now?

⚞ Masterlist ⚟

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

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secretsecretbunny · 8 months

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🩷Bunny's Masterlist🩷

-> all banners made by @runbulletproof <-

STRAY KIDS.

✨Bangchan✨

how you have him saved in your phone.

Chan x overworked producer!reader.

you text him while he's live

Married!Chan x reader.

✨Minho✨

Chan x simp m!reader.

Enemies to lovers.

Random texts with Minho.

Flirting with friend!reader.

Minho x simp!reader.

Needy Minho.

✨Changbin✨

Married!Changbin x reader.

✨Hyunjin✨

Enemies to lovers.

✨Han Jisung✨

Random texts with roommate Han.

Flirty friend Han.

Flirty Han pt2.

Married!Han & reader.

✨Felix✨

Married!Felix & reader.

✨Seungmin✨

My hands are better.

Random texts with Seungmin.

He finds out he's not your bias

✨Other/ot8✨

You send threatening pics of Chan, Felix, and Minho's skzoo.

They watch you dance without you knowing.

Chan & Minho text when you leave after an argument.

Drunk texts part one.

✨Jealous mini series✨

Chan, Minho, & Changbin.

Hyunjin, Han, & Felix.

Seungmin & Jeongin.

✨SERIES✨

Just Friends: (ongoing) Lee Minho x Reader.

Character intro/story set up. (Please read first.)

Part one: There are no flaws in ghibli.

Part 1.5: The Rumor.

Part two: MewMin.

ATEEZ.

✨Wooyoung✨

Random texts with bsf!Woo.

✨Yunho✨

jealous bsf!Yunho.

✨San✨

Soft bf!San texts.

BTS.

✨Jin✨

What ur snapchat would look like if Jin was ur bf.

✨Yoongi✨

What ur snapchat would look like if Yoongi was ur bf.

Jealous!Yoongi texts.

✨Hobi✨

Hobi x disabled!reader.

New idol!reader drabble.

What ur snapchat would look like if Hobi was ur bf.

✨Namjoon✨

What ur snapchat would look like if Joon was ur bf.

✨Jimin✨

Jealous of your bias.

What ur snapchat would look like if Jimin was ur bf

✨Taehyung✨

What your snapchat would look like if Tae was ur bf.

✨Jungkook✨

What ur snapchat would look like if Kook was ur bf.

✨OT7✨

Roommates!BTS discover your secret insta.

Ex roommates situation: groupchat.

The emergency: groupchat

Not fics.

✨My gifs✨

Bunny's gifs.

#bunny's masterlist #masterlist #mlist #stray kids #skz #BTS #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #ateez #atz #kpop fake texts #stray kids fake texts #skz fake texts #bts fake texts #bangtan fake texts #ateez fake texts

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all-about-kyu · 9 months

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Summary: Just as you get back on your feet after a nasty breakup, you see your ex out in public with his new girlfriend. What will you do to avoid an awkward encounter? Pairing: Jongho x fem!reader Tropes: strangers to lovers, fake dating au, Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG Warnings: mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, language, a brief moment of nudity (for changing), kissing Word Count: 5,496 Note: for @cultofdionysusnet Mocha Madness event! Thank you to @anyamaris and @sanjoongie for beta reading this and listening to my panic!! This has been a WIP for over 2 years now so FINALLY it's released!

Before You Interact

Prompt: You sit at the table with a random boy you see sitting at a cafe or something alone and say, “Kiss me,” and he replies, “Hi, nice to meet you too. My name is ___,” and then you explain that your ex is right there with the side piece he cheated on you with and this boy agrees ‘cause you to seem really serious about this. Ex approaches and starts questioning you, but somehow, this random guy gets him off your back. You start hanging out, faking a relationship in front of your ex whenever you see him, but the actual feelings develop. - given by @jaehunnyy

You had finally gotten back to going out after your ex left you. It had been a few months, but it took a while to get back in the swing of things with how that breakup went. You had gone to your boyfriend’s apartment to surprise him and found another girl in his lap kissing him. He was so shameless about it, too. He tried to introduce you to her and have you be friends. You push the memory out of your head as you walk down the sidewalk, it’s a beautiful day, and you were going to take advantage of it. You were walking along one of your town’s major routes lined with little cafes, restaurants, and stores. You enjoy the spring breeze and sunshine on your skin, breathing in the sweet smell of blooming flowers. You finally felt ready to face the world head-on and return to a routine. That’s when you saw them: your ex and his new girlfriend. You feel your heart race and suddenly sit in front of a random young man in one of the cafe’s outdoor seating areas.

“Kiss me.” you tell him.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too! My name is Jongho.” he says with a sarcastic smile.

You sigh, “Please, my ex is walking this way. He’s with his new girlfriend, the side piece he cheated on me with. I don’t want to deal with the confrontation. I’ll pay for your food. Please kiss me, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

He gives you a confused look at first, then leans forward, inches from your lips, “That all depends on how good of a kisser you are.” he whispers.

Suddenly, his lips are on yours, and you nearly melt onto the cement beneath you. You had no idea what to expect from him, so when you feel his soft, pillowy lips against yours, you can’t help but lose your breath. His right hand holds your face gently. They’re slightly calloused but not enough to annoy you. When you pull back, you hear your name called by the last person you want to hear say it.

“Just follow my lead,” you whisper to Jongho, “Hi, Wooyoung!” you fake a smile, “How have you been?” “Pretty good. It’s been a few months now, hasn’t it?”

“Mhm.” you reply with a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, this is Jongho, my boyfriend.”

He holds one of your hands across the table, seeing as how you introduced him. His other hand reached out to shake Wooyoung’s hand. Then, releasing his new girlfriend’s hand, he shakes hands with who he assumes is your new boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend, Miyeon.” he smiles brightly, looking back at her.

“It’s nice to meet you.” she sweetly greets you, “Wooyoung has told me a lot about you.”

You cannot help but feel slightly attacked by how she makes her latter comment. She knew much more about you than she would admit in front of your “boyfriend”. She had been a side piece for six months before you found out. She was lying through her teeth, and she and Wooyoung knew it. You subconsciously squeeze Jongho’s hand, and he immediately notices your slight discomfort. He squeezes your hand back, and only then do you notice that you’re squeezing his. He gives you a reassuring smile, and you suddenly feel comfortable with him, as if you’ve known each other for years.

“I hate to cut this short, but we’re in the middle of a date here.” Jongho smiles fakely.

Wooyoung looks taken aback a bit but smiles back, fakely, “Sorry, how about a double date sometime though? You comfortable with that, Miyeon?” she smiles and nods at him, “You too?” he questions you.

When you don’t respond, Jongho tries to gain your attention, “Sweetheart, you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” you stutter, “Sounds lovely. When were you thinking?”

“We were going to have an at-home date later this week. You two want to crash that?” “You okay with that, baby?” Jongho questions you this time, and you nearly melt hearing his low voice calling you that. “Yeah, same address?” “Same address. I’ll text you the details. You have the same number, right?” Wooyoung confirms, with Miyeon clung to his arm much tighter than before.

“Same number… I’ll just have to unblock you first.” you say with a subtle bite.

“See you later then.” he smiles awkwardly.

The moment they walk far enough away, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Then, hearing Jongho call your name throws you off. You look back at him and see his worried look. His thumb runs over the back of your hand across your knuckles, letting you take your time to process what just happened. Then, when you fully come back to your senses, you nearly panic.

“Oh my god, Jongho, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to get him to leave me alone, but now you got dragged into another thing with me, a complete stranger.” you ramble.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, let’s just take this time now to get to know each other, and then I don’t mind being your fake boyfriend around them. You seem fun.” he smiles softly.

“What’s in it for you?” you ask skeptically.

“I could use some excitement in my life.” He shrugs, “My friend has been trying to get me to go on blind dates nonstop for like a month, too.”

You end up agreeing to his deal. You two stay there and get to know each other for a few hours. You find out he’s currently in university, majoring in early childhood education and minoring in music. He also works part-time at the little hole-in-the-wall book store downtown when he doesn’t have classes. As you continue to talk, you forget about the passing of time. You’re genuinely having a good time with him. It isn’t until a random storm comes rolling that you process how long you’ve been sitting at the cafe. You sit there in shock for a few seconds, just looking at each other until the rain gets heavier. You have a silent conversation then, running into the building, you find yourself at the front counter.

“Oh, let me pay for your food and coffee. I owe you at least that.” you offer.

He smiles at you, and you nearly melt with his gorgeous looks. You knew he was attractive when you sat down in front of him for the first time (you lucked out there), but now, seeing him with a bright smile and hair wet from the rain, your breath gets stolen from your lungs. Your mind returns to just how nice his kiss felt. You can’t help but wish you could feel it again. Of course, it likely won’t happen again, but you can dream.

“Don’t worry about it. I enjoyed spending time with you.” he smiles softly.

“Jongho, I roped you in pretending to be my boyfriend, lying to my ex and his new girlfriend, and kissing a stranger-”

He interrupted you, “And I don’t mind paying for my food. You made up for all that and more by spending time with me.”

You huff, slightly annoyed he wouldn’t let you at least pay for the items as an apology. He chuckles at your reaction before walking to the counter to pay. While you wait, you notice how the rain only got heavier. You had walked here. There was no way it would ease up anytime soon. You seemed to be stuck here for a while now. Finally, you’re dragged out of your thoughts when someone nudges you. Looking over, you see Jongho. He looks at you, out the door at the rain, and back to you again.

“Do you live far away?”

“No, but I walked here, and it takes about 20 minutes to walk here on a light foot traffic day.”

“Do you want to stay at mine for a little bit?” he offers.

“What?”

“Just until the rain stops. I can drive you home after, too. I just live down the street.”

You think for a minute, just looking at him, “How do I know you’re not a creep or murderer?” you say, teasing slightly.

He just chuckles and comments how you were the one who kissed him first. Ultimately, you end up nodding, accepting his offer. You both look outside at the rain and then at each other. There were no words exchanged between you, but somehow you both knew. He took your hand and pulled you out of the cafe into the heavy rain outside. You don’t stop to think or let go of his hand. If anything, you’re enjoying the spontaneity of it all. You feel relatively safe with him despite only meeting a few hours ago. The rain beats down on your skin, and your hair sticks to your body, but you couldn’t care less. Before you realize it, you’re being pulled into an apartment complex. Running inside and upstairs, you laugh in the hallway, dripping wet.

“Oh? Who’s this Jongho?” You hear an elderly woman’s voice.

“Hello, Mrs. Kang, just a guest.” He says offhandedly, smiling at her.

She lets out a slight hum, noticing how Jongho is fumbling with his keys, “Just keep it down.” She teases.

“Mrs. Kang,” he awkwardly chuckles, “it’s not like that. I’m just being kind and letting her stay out of the rain until it settles down.”

The older woman hums as if to suggest something else. Jongho shakes his head, looking down at his feet. Unlocking his front door, he allows you to walk in before him. You feel homey and comfortable in the atmosphere when you step in. The second thing you note is that a large Saint Bernard is fast asleep on the couch. You don’t dare take another step in due to how soaking wet you still are. Jongho steps in just behind you, pulling the door shut. He softly chuckles, seeing the dog and how he snores, still deep in sleep.

“Bear,” he calls sweetly.

The dog slowly blinks awake, its tail flopping loudly and happily against the cushion. It stands up on the couch and stretches before hopping down and trotting over to you both. The dog takes his time but sits down directly on Jongho’s feet when he gets to where you are.

“Hi, boy, you do okay with this rain?” he asks the large canine, petting him, “This is Bear. I know not everyone is a dog fan, but he’s a sweet baby who just wants love.” he explains to you.

You nod and let the large dog sniff your hand and get to know you. Almost immediately, he lowers his head as if asking to be petted. You hear Jongho hum again a split second later, almost in surprise.

“He’s normally timid. I’m surprised he’s already letting you pet him.” he explains, “Oh, um, do you want something else to wear? I’m sure soaking wet clothing can’t be comfortable.”

“I don’t want to impose.” You shyly respond.

He shakes his head at you, “It’s no big deal. Come with me. I’ll show you where the bathroom is and get something for you to wear instead.”

You nod, accepting his kind gesture. He motions for you to follow him down the hallway. Bear following not far behind him, happily trotting. You take note of the various pictures hanging on the wall. One, in particular, catches your eye: a group of guys around your age. All of them are smiling brightly, sitting in an outdoor seeing area. You quickly pick out the man, slowly becoming less of a stranger. The others, though, you make a mental note to ask about later.

“Bathroom’s right there,” his deep voice pulls you from your thoughts, “I’ll be right back with some clothes. I hope you don’t mind me giving you some of mine. I don’t have anything else.”

“T-that’s fine,” you offer with a slight smile, “I’ll need to get used to it eventually if Wooyoung keeps insisting that we do double dates with him.” you add as he starts walking further down the hall.

“You think he’ll do that?” he calls back.

“I dated him for three years. He likes double or group dates much better than one-on-one dates.”

You hear his footsteps grow closer again (and Bear’s nails clicking against the hardwood with him), and not much longer, he’s standing right in front of you. His wet, tussled hair makes you gulp and finally process just how stunning the man in front of you is. Then, you just look at him for a few moments, neither of you saying a thing.

“Um, I put a pair of boxers in there, just in case you wanted something under the sweats.” he notes, avoiding eye contact, “You don’t have to take them. Just leave them in here. I can wash your rained-on clothes, though. It would be rude of me not to offer that.”

“Oh, thank you.” you respond, an awkward chuckle raising your tone.

You close the door, clothes, and towel in hand. At the bottom, there lay the aforementioned black sweatpants and boxers; on the top was an oversized graphic t-shirt. You smile contently without realizing it. It was a kind gesture for him to offer you clothing. For him to provide clothes that you would be comfortable in was even more caring. Perhaps fake dating this man wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

As you slowly peel off your sopping-wet clothing, your mind wanders. At first, it was just about how things between you and Wooyoung went and what you wanted to do differently about the entire encounter. Then, your brain wholly shifted tracks. Jongho was at the forefront of your mind about making up this elaborate scheme to convince your ex and his girlfriend. He vaguely mentioned stopping his friend from trying to get him to go on blind dates, too. That could add a whole new layer of complexity. When you step back and actually think about it, it sounds a little insane. You just kissed a man you didn’t even know, and now he’s pretending to be your boyfriend willingly. Your mind continues wandering down that path as you dry off your body and hair with the towel he provided you.

Then you freeze, looking over at the pile of clothing, and see the boxers he had referenced. Now, the internal debate starts. It would be weird to wear his boxers for multiple reasons, but at the same time, wearing his sweatpants without them would also be weird in various ways. In this case, you had to decide which was the lesser of the two evils. After a few minutes of standing there, fully nude, in a stranger’s bathroom, you finally decided to wear and deal with the item. After fully dressing, you look at yourself in the mirror momentarily. It’s odd; you haven’t worn anyone else’s clothing since your breakup with Wooyoung. Your hair is still damp from the rain; a towel can only do so much. You lack a bra, but at the moment, you couldn’t really be bothered with that. The shirt he gave you was large enough to conceal everything for the most part. Just as you open the door, you find Jongho standing directly before you, also now in dry clothing. Of course, Bear was by his side, happily panting and wanting attention.

“Oh, sorry,” he speaks choppily, “you were just in there for a little while. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You smile gently, “Yeah, I’m good. Where do you want me to put the wet clothes?”

“Follow me. You can give me the clothes. I’ll put them in the washer for you.” he offers.

You hand him the pile of clothes you had just picked up and follow him as he travels further down the hallway. Finally, he stops in front of a small closet and reveals the washer and dryer stacked inside it. He double-checks with you to ensure that nothing needs to be washed a certain way before he promptly starts the load of laundry and turns to face you again.

For the second time today, you’re absolutely amazed by this man slowly becoming less of a stranger. His hair is still slightly damp and hangs in his face. He looks comfortable in casual house clothing. Seeing him more in his element than at the cafe is nice. It feels like an eternity that you’re just standing there taking in his beauty. In reality, though, you know it’s a mere few moments. You don’t get broken from your gaze until a large dog jumps on you, demanding to be petted. He nearly tackles you to the ground before you can process what’s happening. You hear Jongho make a panicked noise before lifting Bear off you.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. He’s never clingy with anyone but me.” he sighs before reaching a hand out to help you up.

“It’s okay,” you smile, taking his hand, “I’m happy to know he’s friendly.”

“He definitely is,” he chuckles, “did you want a blanket? We can warm up in the living room and figure out everything regarding our story.”

You hum in response, just realizing that you are actually quite chilly. Jongho disappears into what you quickly notice to be his room and grabs a few throw blankets he had tucked into an armoire. The moment he steps out, he hands you one of the blankets and guides the way back to the couches in the living room. He lets you have the first choice of seating with a quick apology about the dog hair. Once you’re both comfortable, Jongho lets out a light sigh. You give him a puzzled look, and he’s ready to explain once he catches your drift.

“It’s nice to have someone other than Yunho, Mingi, or Yeosang here.” he explains, “It’s been a while since I’ve had someone over that’s not them. This wasn’t by choice, but I wanted to say it is nice to have your company.”

“Thank you,” you mutter out, “Are they the other three guys in those pictures?”

“The ones in the hallway? Yeah, we’ve all been friends since we were young. All of my life, essentially. They’ve gotten me through some really rough times.” He cleared his throat, realizing he was getting too deep too quick, “I guess it would be smart to figure out our story now.”

“Well,” you start, “Wooyoung and I didn’t break up long ago. It was only in February that I found out about Miyeon. So, do you wanna say we started dating in April? Like two months ago?”

“Damn, two months, and you’re already stealing all my clothes.” he jokes lightly, “Yeah, that sounds good to me. How about where and when we met?” “The bookstore you work at?” “Nah, Mingi would flip and blow our cover if we claimed that. He works there too.” he glances over and notices you’re still shivering slightly in your blanket, “Here,” he offers, opening up the blanket around him, “Come sit with me. You’ll warm up quicker.”

At first, you think about declining his offer, but the chills that run through your body urge you to accept. You nod, sliding across the couch to get wrapped up in his arms. You haven’t cuddled with anyone for any reason since before your breakup with Wooyoung. Feeling the warmth of his body against yours underneath this fluffy throw blanket sends butterflies through your stomach that you will away.

“I guess we’ll have to adjust to physical affection, too. I mean, only if you want that, though. I know Wooyoung wasn’t really big on PDA. I guess he is with Miyeon, but with me-”

“Hey, hey, you’re rambling,” he teases, “we can go over all those details as they come up in conversation. Now, about where we met.”

“The cafe we met at today? It’s the truth, just bent a little.”

“I like that idea.” he hums, “Blind date?”

“Seems boring,” you joke, “let’s at least make it interesting if we’re gonna make it up.”

“Hmm,” he ponders, “how about we meet at that cafe? I just saw a pretty girl and decided to pay for her coffee. That’s overly sweet, of course.”

You can’t tell if he’s flirting or just making up the story, but how he said it made your heart flip in your chest. Only now do you realize just how intimate this situation really is. You don’t know what cologne he uses, but the scent entirely surrounds you. Not only are you wearing his clothes, but you’re using his blankets and cuddling up against his chest. You’re wholly engulfed in the scent. The overall atmosphere is so comforting and calm. You absolutely love it. The heavy rainfall mixed with your relatively quiet conversation adds to the ambiance. It’s something you could never quite describe.

“Hey,” he pulls you from your thoughts with a shrug of his shoulder you were leaning against, “You zoned out there. What do you think about that idea?”

“I like it.” you hum back, “I guess we should get to know each other better than just our first names and jobs.”

He chuckles and tells you anything you want to know. Things that were as simple as his favorite color (it’s white) or as complex as his family dynamic. You laugh all throughout your time, cuddled up together, learning all you can. Bear had joined you at one point, resting his head against your thigh. His body flopped across the empty space on the couch you had once occupied. You hadn’t even noticed the passage of time, just happy sitting here and telling him about yourself and learning about him. The rain never let up, though. It remained a constant heavy downpour the entire time. At some point, you both become even more comfortable. His head rested on top of yours, and his arm wrapped ever so slightly tighter around your shoulder. It felt so right despite having just met a few hours ago.

Suddenly, he lifts his head, “How late is it? It’s hard to tell with how rainy it is.”

“It’s,” you start, pulling your phone out of the sweatpants’ pocket, “almost 10 pm. Oh shit, almost 10… I should probably go. It would be rude of me to overstay my welcome.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s still raining hard outside. I don’t want to send you home in this storm.”

“Jongho,” you sigh, “it’s fine. You said you’d be able to drive me home.” you remind him.

Just as he goes to answer you, a loud crack of thunder sounds through the sky outside. The rain begins beating down harder, the sound almost deafening against the windowpanes. It’s almost as if the weather itself is telling you to stay, too. He lets out a sigh instead of the words he was about to say.

“I doubt either of us wants to go out in that rain… and honestly, I don’t want to drive in that kind of storm either.”

“I wouldn’t make you do that.”

An awkward silence fills the space between you. You both know what needs to be addressed, but neither of you wants to say it. You hear Bear panting quietly from his bed near Jongho’s houseplant. It’s the only sound besides the rain filling the apartment. Fiddling with the hem of the shirt he lent you, you aren’t sure how to approach the elephant in the room. He doesn’t seem to either. Jongho is busying himself, looking around his living room, trying to find anything to look at.

“Well-” your voice comes out slightly shaky, “I’ll just sleep on your couch until the storm passes. I can walk home after-”

“No,” the brunette cuts you off, “I won’t let you go home by yourself in the middle of the night. I’ll sleep on the couch. You should sleep in a bed.”

“Jongho I-”

“Unless you’d rather share it with me.” he states plainly.

You’re taken back for a moment, having not expected the comment, “Um, I guess I’ll sleep in your bed then…” your voice comes out shaky again.

“Bear likes to sleep at the foot of the bed.” he chuckles, “Just a warning.”

A part of you feels bad for taking the bed. It is his apartment, after all. Another part of you is grateful he gave you the bed. You know sleeping on a stranger’s couch wouldn’t be the most comfortable, and his gentlemanly gesture makes you feel just a bit more comfortable. The greater part of you feels bad that he’s sleeping on the couch in his home.

You try for a while to fall asleep, but you just can’t. Even with Bear eventually coming to lay at the end of the bed, you can’t seem to fall asleep. Your tossing and turning eventually annoys the Saint Bernard, who huffs at you before walking up to lay against your body. You welcome the warmth, but sleep doesn’t come your way. Sitting up, you look at the half-asleep dog beside you. Bear just gives you a look and huffs again. After debating mentally for about another ten minutes, you wrap a throw blanket around yourself and walk out to the living room again.

Jongho is seemingly fast asleep on the couch. One of his arms is over his head while the other is resting against his chest. Yet again, he steals your breath for simply existing. When you step closer, you start to debate with yourself again. You should probably just go back to his room and succumb to tossing and turning all night.

“If you’re gonna stare, at least be subtle about it.” Jongho teases, eyes still shut.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You reply, “I didn’t want to disturb you, but-”

“I can’t sleep either.” He admits, “Come here.”

“What?” You’re confused, to say the least.

“Normally, Bear cuddles with me, but he’s already opted for his dog bed. Come here, we need to get used to physical contact, right?”

You nibble on your lower lip as you think. Earlier, you really did feel comfortable in his arms. His is right, too. If you’re going to be meeting Wooyoung later in the week for a double date, you know he’d be suspicious if you two weren’t physically affectionate. Finally giving in, you climb onto the couch and lay your head against his chest. The arm that was previously resting there moves to be splayed across your shoulders. Suddenly, you feel exhaustion overtake you. Mere moments ago, you were the furthest you could be from getting rest. Now, you can barely keep your eyes open.

You don’t expect to have a dog licking your face when you wake up. You blink slowly, seeing the sun beaming through the window. Then, when you see the pup sitting in front of the couch, you notice that he’s picked up his leash and wants to go for a walk. Jongho is still asleep underneath you. You opt to get up and get your clothing out of the dryer before you head out. On your way to the laundry closet, you grab your phone. You do your best not to let out an annoyed groan when you see a text from Wooyoung.

Do Not Answer ❌ Hey Miyeon and I are heading to the festival that’s in the park right now. You and your boyfriend down to move out double date today?

You leave him on ‘read’ for now. Eventually, you reach the laundry closet and grab all your clothing. Suddenly, Jongho appears in front of you. He’s clearly still half asleep as he shuffles down the hallway.

“Let me walk you back to your place if you’re going to leave so soon.” He offers, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Let me. It’s not a bother to me at all. Bear wants his morning walk as it is.”

You nod, “I’ll get changed back into my own clothes real quick, then we can go.”

Jongho nods back at you and lets you walk past to change in the bathroom. Everything is fine, peaceful even. You don’t think about Wooyoung’s rather irritating request to change plans. That is, until, he sends you yet another text.

Do Not Answer ❌ Hey… if you would rather come to our place and have the date there we can…

Didn’t think you wanted to be back in our apartment after you stormed out on me like that

If you do though I don’t mind that one bit… hope your boy doesn’t mind though

His comments make your skin crawl. Referring to his apartment as your shared home was already bad; also, saying you stormed out on him only made the bitter taste in your mouth worse. Still, you swallow your irritation and respond.

Do Not Answer ❌

My boyfriend has a name. Be fucking respectful Wooyoung.

My bad… So are you and whatever his name is coming or should I tell Miyeon you backed out?

You talked with him yesterday. His name is Jongho. We didn’t back out of anything… We literally just woke up. I’ll talk to him about it in a second

You don’t check whether he responds once you pocket your phone. When you pop the door open again, Bear is waiting for you. His tail is swishing against the hall rug excitedly. You watch as he trots down the hall when you step closer. You follow after him and see that he stops right at the door where Jongho is ready and waiting for you while looking at his phone.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Hmm?” He asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.

“Wooyoung…” you trail off, trying your best not to be annoyed with your ex.

Jongho’s face hardens, “Did he do something?”

For a moment, you feel butterflies coursing through your body. The way he’s asking is as if he’s your actual boyfriend and is showing concern for your well-being. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it.

“He wants to change plans last minute. He always did this shit when we were together too… If you aren’t up for going on a double date right now, I’ll just take the fall of ‘backing out’ like he’s claiming.”

“Where are they? If I can bring Bear with us, we’ll be good.”

“The park near his apartment that has some sort of festival.”

“Perfect! Do you want something else to wear since you wore that yesterday? I know it’s clean, but I’m sure he would say something even though I only met him yesterday. He seems like that kind of person.”

You nod shyly, “A sweater would be nice. I don’t mind wearing the rest of my clothes still.”

Bear walks over and nudges you with his head. He’s already very attached to you it seems. You squat down and pet him for a few moments. Despite his size, the large dog melts into you and lets out a satisfied groan when you scratch his ears.

“What kind of sweater?” You hear Jongho call, “I have plenty.”

“Something comfy! I don’t want to be too cold while we’re out.” You call back, very much still preoccupied with Bear.

You hear Jongho walk back up to you. You look up and see a thicker black sweater with thin grey and white stripes across it in his hands. He’s giving you a gentle smile.

“Here you go, clothing thief.” He smirks at you.

You take the sweater from him, “You offered.” You grumble back playfully before walking back to the bathroom to change again.

The sweater is far more comfortable than you expected. It’s long enough that your hands disappear beneath the sleeves, and the bottom hem hangs low enough to cover your entire butt. When you return, Jongho has Bear harnessed up and ready to go. Something about the entire scene makes you feel warmly domestic with a man you met less than 24 hours ago.

The walk to the park isn’t very eventful, in complete honesty. Most pauses you take are to let Bear sniff something or do his business. Of course, you and Jongho make small conversation about nothing particularly important. You don’t even physically interact with each other. That is, until, you approach the start of the park. You feel Jongho’s strong arm wrap around you while the other still holds onto Bear’s leash. You look at him with a slightly perplexed look; you expect him to hold you, but his grip is rather tight on your hip. It’s almost protective in a way.

“I see them.” he whispers against your hair as if he’s whispering a sweet nothing. “Just play along, okay?”

You nod, “Let the show begin.”

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity @cultofdionysusnet

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxy

#jongho fanfic #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #jongho x reader #jongho fluff

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ihavethedreamies · 6 months

Text

Mine | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~9.3k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Jealousy, Friends-to-Lovers, Smut

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fluffy Smut

Author's Note: This is for my bestest friend in the world. Jaemin is her ultimate favorite and this might very well make her explode. Which is the goal. She didn't ask for smut, but… That is why it’s a bit more…fluffy/vanilla than my other stuff, because it's for her >3>

There is a bit of cross-over between groups here. Changbin and Felix of Stray Kids are in it directly and Wooyoung of ATEEZ is mentioned.

Fun Fact: the middle pic in the banner is actually of Hyunjin

Edit (8/25/24): I changed the text/chat pictures to just text.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Hey, you know my friend Changbin?" your friend asked as she applied her lip balm, looking in a handheld mirror. You simply blinked at this, considering it wasn’t even tinted and you pondered why she needed the mirror.

"Yes?" You shook your head, looking back to your laptop. You and Yuna were sitting at a table in one of the on-campus cafés . Studying in the library was hard because you two could get kind of rowdy and it was hard to stay quiet.

"He’s been trying to get me to set him up with one of my girl friends…" She drifted off, casting you a not very subtle look. You had never seen the guy, just knew he was a gym rat, and he was friends with your ex. Rubbing your eye as your vision blurred from staring at your screen too long, she leaned into your blind spot, which startled you when your eye refocused.

"What?" You grumbled and she sighed dramatically, resting her cheek on the table.

"Please?" She immediately started to beg, just repeating the word over and over.

"Oh my god, fine!" You relented. A bit hesitant since he was so close with Wooyoung. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to go out with a friend of your ex.

"What if we do a double date?" Yuna could tell you were a bit hesitant, and the thought of tag-teaming was better.

"Okay, like a double blind-date thing?" you asked, and her face lit up.

"Yes! Bring me someone hot." She winked and you huffed. Going over your own friend group in your head, you tried to figure out who was best for her. You immediately threw your roommate Jisung out. He was way too shy and quiet for her, and she was a lot for anyone. Chenle was also out, that would be way too much loud in your life since he essentially lived with you as well with how much he was over. Renjun wasn’t Yuna’s type, she doesn’t go out with guys she claims are prettier than her. Mark was…something was going on with Yuta that you didn’t have the time to ponder on. Donghyuck could work but he, surprisingly, was pretty serious when it came to dating and wasn’t a fan of flings. Jeno? He could work, but you were pretty sure he was supposed to be going somewhere for a cycling race. That left Jaemin. The thought made your stomach twinge a bit, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. His stupid goofy grinning face flashed in your mind and quickly changed to the cocky smirk he wore when he flirted. Which he did a lot. You decided you were nervous for Yuna because he was such a flirt, but then again, so was she. Deep down you knew you had a bit of a crush on him despite the fact that you declared you never would. Every time some guy rose in popularity on campus, they were immediately disqualified. He had been your friend before that happened to him, but you begrudgingly followed the crowd as he rose to be number one pretty fast. I mean, you weren’t surprised, you had eyes. Jeno was also really high up there, but he seemed more like a brother to you. He was like a sweet puppy dog, Jaemin was more like a lion. Lazy and beautiful.

"I’ll ask Jaemin…" You mumbled to yourself, and she perked up.

"Wait, Na Jaemin?"

"Yes? That okay?"

"Fuck yeah, that’s okay, holy shit!" She cackled to herself, and you grumbled, typing out a quick message to him.

☀️: Wanna go on a blind date? 🐰: Why would I be blind? ☀️: You know what I mean dumbass. 🐰: who ☀️: My friend Yuna. She wants to set me up with her friend and so we decided to do a double. 🐰: you too? ☀️: Yeah that's what I mean by double... 🐰: who ☀️: Her friend Changbin. He's one of Wooyoung's friends too. 🐰: hm

What did that mean? There were two ends of the spectrum of messaging Jaemin. You either got very short answers like right then, or way too many emojis.

🐰: hm 🐰: works out a lot? ☀️: Yeah, him. 🐰: hm ☀️: What does that mean? 🐰: wouldn't you like to know

You rolled your eyes and waited as the little dots bounced as he typed. Then they would stop, then start, then stop. What the hell was taking him so long.

🐰: wouldn't you like to know ☀️: You good, fam? 🐰: yeh, i shall go ☀️: You shall? I didn't even say when... 🐰: when then

"When are you thinking?" You turned to Yuna who was typing on her phone, probably with her guy friend.

"Friday night, 7?" She didn’t even look up from her phone.

"Where?" You got ready to relay the information.

"Uh…he told you to pick." She sniggered at something else on her phone, so you went back to yours.

🐰: when then ☀️: Friday at 7. 🐰: where ☀️: You decide. 🐰: hmm ☀️: Hurry up, I need to keep working. 🐰: have your computer program decide ☀️: I'm coding a program for the periodic table it can't do that.

He was getting on your nerves, and you pondered why the hell you even liked him. For probably everything else but how he texted, but that was beside the point.

☀️: I'm coding a program for the periodic table it can't do that. 🐰: taeyong's place ☀️: That's expensive... 🐰: so? ☀️: Not all of us are financially stable. 🐰: I...will pay~ ☀️: You will? 🐰: not for him ☀️: I'll make sure it's okay...

"Ask him if he’s okay going somewhere fancy. Our friend started as a chef at some place called Kwangya, but it’s pricey. Jaemin said he’ll pay for us." You put your phone down to pull up the website to get an idea of the prices. It wasn’t like a Michelin star-level place or anything, but it was nicer than most college students would usually go for. Looking over the menu you saw the cheapest entrée was still like twenty dollars.

"Oh shit, that looks good, let me ask him." Yuna leaned in, resting her cheek on your shoulder to look at your screen, then she went back to her phone.

"He said that’s perfect, he’ll pay for you he said." Your friend wiggled her eyebrows, and you exhaled through your nose.

☀️: I'll make sure it's okay... ☀️: You're in luck. He's in and will pay for me too. 🐰: no ☀️: No? 🐰: i pay ☀️: It wouldn't make sense for you to pay for me and your date... 🐰: I pay ☀️: Okay, whatever, you two can figure it out then... 🐰: wear pink ☀️: That's not your decision. 🐰: hm

You rolled your eyes; he was so freaking odd sometimes…Most times. After all the details got ironed out, you both went back to studying and working before heading your separate ways around four. When you got back to your apartment, your eyes immediately found a foreign pair of shoes by the door. Jisung was always sure to put his on the shoe rack with yours, and Chenle’s were simply thrown somewhere on the floor, but these were set nicely by the rack. Who was there? Dolphin laughter could be heard from the living room, and you guessed Chenle had maybe brought someone. Jisung didn’t have too many people he knew past the other six. The rest of their friends would almost all just have their shoes in a pile or would use the rack…

"Noona~" Chenle shouted in delight as you came in and you couldn’t hide a smile.

"Hi, Lele."

"Did you get your program finished?" Jisung’s much quieter and deeper voice brought your attention as he came out of the laundry room. There definitely was third person there, an unfamiliar bag was resting against the coffee table. Maybe they were in the bathroom.

"Who is here?" you asked and Jisung stiffened, worried you might be upset. Little did he know, you could never be upset with your most precious.

"My friend Felix." Chenle was strewn across your armchair.

"The one from Australia?" You made sure you got it right and he nodded. He was looking at his phone as he typed, a growing look of distaste spreading over his face.

"What’s wrong?" Jisung asked the other guy, moving to sit back down on the couch, picking up his laptop. You could hear the washer going and you really hoped he didn’t put too much soap in again. As you joined them in the living room, you set your bag down next to the couch and flopped on the opposite end of your roommate.

"Jaemin." Is all he said, and you rolled your eyes, understanding his sentiment. Guess he was being weird with everyone today.

"I hope it’s okay, I might have stained the sink…" A deep voice caught you off guard and you turned so fast to see the owner your neck popped. He was…beautiful.

"What do you mean?" You finally registered his comment after a few seconds of staring.

"His pen leaked." Jisung answered and Felix showed you the faded blue stain on his hands.

"Oh, that’s okay." You assured him, still gaping. He came to sit back on the floor at the coffee table and gave you a smile made of sunshine.

"I’m Felix."

"Right, yes, I’m (Y/N)." You introduced and Chenle burst out laughing.

"You’re going on a double date with Jaemin?" The second youngest looked at you and you groaned, slumping further into the couch.

"I’m not going with him. I set him up with Yuna and she set me up with her friend." You corrected.

"Yuna? Song Yuna?" Felix asked and you nodded as you straightened back up.

"Oh, I’m friends with her too. Who is she setting you up with?" He looked up from the pen that he was holding, probably a little weary it might leak as well.

"Changbin?" When you spoke the name, his face shifted from slight worry of the writing device to an amused look. He sputtered a laugh, and you weren’t sure how to take that.

"You dated Wooyoung right?"

"Yes?"

"He’s going to have a field day…"

"Why?" Was that a good or bad thing?

"Changbin’s liked you since before you broke up with Woo." The blonde huffed another laugh as he started to jot down notes from his textbook.

"Seriously? I’ve never even seen him… How did he know about me?"

"You were Woo’s background. You might still be, actually…" He mentioned it so casually, but you were once again shocked. You had broken up like four months prior.

"She’s Jaemin’s background too." Chenle had begun to chew aggressively on some licorice. Your licorice.

"Hey, give that back!" You stood so you could confiscate the candy and he whined pitifully and loudly. Then what he said hit you as you sat back down.

"I’m Jaemin’s background?!"

"It’s that picture of when you and Renjun fell in the mud at the park." Jisung finished and you sighed, rolling your eyes. He always had the embarrassing pictures.

"She’s still Wooyoung’s background?" The youngest turned to Felix.

"I think so…" The three boys fell back into the lull of whatever they were doing, and you sat and pondered.

"When are you going on the double date?" Jisung’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"Day after tomorrow, why?" You looked up from your phone and he looked deep in thought before he looked at his own phone.

"Just curious. I’m going to Chenle’s for a movie marathon."

"Avengers!" the other boy cheered.

"Where are you going?" Felix piped up and you were once again floored by his deep voice, especially with that pretty face.

"Kwangya. Our friend Taeyong just got the position of head chef." you replied.

"He’s such a good cook." Jisung added and you nodded.

"That place is expensive…" the eldest boy was scrolling through his phone, presumably looking at the menu, then he giggled.

"Order the most expensive thing possible if hyung is paying." His mischievous smile was freaking adorable. You snapped, and pointed at him, "sure thing."

"Oh my god, I am so freaking excited." Yuna bounced as she leaned over your vanity, putting her lipstick on. Since Jaemin had told you to wear pink, you had your friend do so instead. Her dress was light pink with plum blossoms printed over the fabric, the tight dress ended about midthigh and had an asymmetric over-the-shoulder top. You were a bit worried about her walking in the tallest heels she owned, but she liked being near the same height as her date. She had her hair up in a curled ponytail and long pink crystal earrings. You had already gotten ready and had a natural makeup look on with pretty much just mascara, eyeliner, and lipgloss. Your dress was a deep purple with a high keyhole style top. There was a belt around the upper part of your waist and as the dress flowed down the purple faded into black at the end of a circle skirt. Your tallest heels were barely even heels, but they were black, and you had dark sheer tights on as well. Your black metallic hoops matched the bangle you had on your left wrist and the rings on your index and ring fingers of your right hand. Your hair was tied back and flowed down your back in loose curls. Not normally one for manicures, Yuna had gotten you both press on nails instead and yours were almond shaped, simply black with silver accents. Hers were the same pink as her dress with cherry blossoms. She couldn’t find plum blossoms, but most people didn’t know the difference anyway.

"I hope he meets your expectations." You huffed and she rolled her eyes.

"Girl, I know what he looks like, I couldn’t care less about his personality. I even broke out my fancy panties." She smiled and for some reason this really bothered you. You honestly didn’t know if Jaemin was the type to sleep with a girl on the first date, he didn’t talk much about his love life around you. You shifted on your feet, reaching behind you to adjust the band of your bra through the fabric of your dress. Your bra and panties were somewhat plain, just black with a little bit of lace. It didn’t matter anyway. Even if you really liked Changbin you weren’t going to bed him on that first date. Unless he was like…really freaking hot, which was a possibility. For some reason though, even thinking about it made you feel guilty. The thought of Yuna sleeping with Jaemin made you feel even worse, and you tried to ignore it.

"Is my makeup okay?" She shoved her lipstick back in her little bag, white with a gold chain.

"Yes. Mine?" She looked over your face quickly and clicked her tongue.

"Of course. Why’d you even ask?" She grumbled and you giggled as she fixed a few stray hairs, then you went out to your living room to wait. Jisung had left only about fifteen minutes prior, peeking his head into your room to say buy. He got a faint dusting on his cheeks seeing you all pretty and dressed up and he mumbled something as he left. Not even two seconds after you sat in your armchair, your phone went off.

🐰: Here ☀️: The restaurant? You're like twenty minutes early. 🐰: your building ☀️: Oh, I thought we were meeting there? 🐰: coming up

You shook your head; he had been acting weird the last few days and you wondered why he even agreed to this whole double date. He didn’t seem particularly into it… When your door buzzed, you didn’t even get up as you heard him keying in your door code.

"He knows your code?"

"They all do. They tend to come here when they are drunk." You shrugged, still looking at your phone. You had been scrolling through your pictures and deleting everything of you and Wooyoung. It still irked you a bit that you might still his phone background, but you weren’t going to tell him to take it off, what if it wasn’t? You weren’t sure if he knew about your date with Changbin either, and you hoped your past relationship didn’t come up. When Jaemin finally entered, you heard him coming down the hall, evidently still in his shoes. You were going to scold him when he finally came into view, but your words fizzled out. Fuck. He was wearing a white blazer over a black dress shirt. Said shirt was unbuttoned at the top, not starting till a little above the end of his sternum. A tie was tied around his neck loosely, the two ends tucked into his shirt, highlighting the exposed skin. His slacks were black as well as his shoes, and his silver-colored hair was styled up just enough to stay out of his eyes. When your eyes met his after you had scanned his outfit, the look was so intense it made you flinch.

"Fuck." Yuna whispered and you cleared your throat, standing and grabbing your bag.

"Ready?" he asked, forcing his gaze away from you. His face softened into a cocky smirk as Yuna came to stand with you.

"Yuna, right?" He scratched his neck casually and she nodded, giving her best smirk.

"Yes. Everyone knows who you are Na Jaemin." She finally stepped up to him and linked her arm around his.

"Let’s go." You forced a smile onto your face and led them out of the apartment so you could head to the restaurant. As they flirted in the elevator, it was like you could only kind of hear them, your ears ringing like you had gotten hit in the head.

"Is Changbin meeting us there still?" you asked Yuna, and she nodded.

"He should get there around the time we do." Leading them to the small parking garage next to your building, you get in the car and wait for the other two. Jaemin held the door open for your friend and she got into the back where he joined her. You felt more like a chauffeur like that, but you just swallowed down the bitter thoughts and left the garage to head the right way. When you arrived, the valet took your vehicle and there was a guy waiting outside near the door. He was short for a man but still a bit taller than you, and holy fuck was he built. He had a white button down on, the buttons struggling to contain him. A black vest struggled over the shirt as well, and his black tie rested perfectly on his chest. The sleeves were half rolled up near his elbows, his forearms on display. A thick black watch drew your gaze to his hands, a simple silver band on his index finger. His slacks, also black, hugged his thick thighs wonderfully and you wondered if they would split from the strain if he moved the wrong way.

"Woah." He whispered, recognizing your presence when Yuna shouted his name. He came to stand in front of you, his gaze was scanning but polite. You watched carefully as his eyes trailed over your face and neckline, before quickly jumping to your waist and legs.

"You’re even more beautiful in person." He smiled and your face warmed. He took your smaller hand in his where it was rested on your bag, bringing it to his face and placing a light kiss on your knuckles. You heard Jaemin scoff lightly, and you chose to ignore it, focusing on the man before you.

"Let’s go in, I’m starved." your friend groaned dramatically and Jaemin held the door open for her, very pointedly letting it go when Changbin followed. That gave him the opportunity to hold it open for you though, and you nodded in thanks with a smile as you entered the restaurant.

"We have a reservation for seven." Yuna leaned against the podium where the host was as she typed into the tablet.

"Name?"

"Song."

"For four?"

"Yep."

"Please follow me." She grabbed four menus and led you into the establishment to a table in the back corner. The place was busy, but thanks to the ritzy environment, it wasn’t overly loud. The black and white décor and furniture were accented with different kinds of plants and other green things. Jaemin moved to sit down, pulling the chair next to him out. You waited for Yuna to sit but Jaemin was staring at you. Changbin shot Jaemin a look you didn’t notice, but your friend did. Changbin did much the same, sitting across from you and casually pulling the chair back with one hand for his friend. Your guy friend rested back in the chair nonchalantly, holding the menu in his hand on his lap, slinging his arm around the back of your chair. You didn’t even react, too busy looking over the menu, but the other two sure did.

"Order whatever you want, pretty girl." Changbin smirked when you glanced over your own menu at him, his resting on the table. You couldn’t help but marvel at his arms where they rested over the menu. His black hair was parted asymmetrically, his bangs brushing over his eyebrows. He was very handsome, in a more masculine way than Jaemin, who was more pretty.

"Are you sure?" you asked, Felix’s words flashing in your mind; you wanted to make sure.

"Of course." He smiled, looking back and you nodded, ignoring the numbers listed by each meal.

"Hello, I’ll be taking your order today." The waitress had come over and bowed slightly, ready to get your drinks. You simply ordered a water, not feeling like alcohol. Yuna did order a glass of wine, one that Jaemin picked out. He knew jack about wine, but he acted like he knew his stuff, he didn’t even drink. His order was simply for a Coke and Changbin ordered some kind of soda-liquor mix.

"Is this on two tickets or…" The waitress started.

"Two, me and her." Changbin nodded at you and before the waitress could start writing, Jaemin piped up.

"One, actually." You turned your head to look at him in shock and Yuna smiled coyly, resting his chin on her interlinked fingers. She hummed and Jaemin hadn’t even looked up from his menu but to meet your glance.

"I suggested the place, might as well. Tell Chef Moon Jaemin is ordering, so he better cook it really~ good." He smiled at the waitress, and she flushed a bit at the smolder, but nodded and headed off. His arm was still on the back of your chair, and you glanced at Yuna who bit her lip as she looked over the man next to you.

"What are you thinking of getting?" you asked your date and he hummed, flipping to the other side of the menu.

"The cream pasta looks good, but I don’t know if I would want chicken or shrimp." Changbin hummed, then looked up at you with a smile, "what about you, (Y/N)?" The way he said your name made your heart thump, was he normally so sweet or was he playing it up?

"She wants the lobster." Jaemin didn’t even look up from his menu and you glared at him. He wasn’t wrong…you loved it even if you didn’t get to eat it very often.

"It’s not even on the menu today." You tried not to snap at him.

"I think I’ll get the cream pasta with shrimp." You decided.

"Perfect." Changbin smiled and when the waitress came back with your drinks, your date ordered for both of you.

"Give me the steak." After Jaemin ordered, he took his menu and yours to hand them to the waitress. Yuna hummed, giving you a look, and ended up getting some kind of fish. When your guy friend ordered you grimaced. He knew you didn’t like beef, even just the smell bothered you. Though, if he was paying, especially with the prices being so high, you wouldn’t say anything.

"I know we don’t know each other super well yet, but you’re too good for Wooyoung." Changbin started and you gave him a shocked look. Yuna looked surprised at the comment as well and Jaemin huffed in what seemed like agreement.

"W-what do you mean?" you asked.

"This is the kind of place to go to. A beautiful restaurant for a beautiful girl. Let me guess, your first date was at an amusement park?"

"W-well…yes. We were first years in college though…"

"Still, you’re a lady not a middle schooler." He shook his head and you flushed some at the comments. You didn’t see yourself as a lady, but it made you feel special.

"Lady, huh?" The guy next to you kind of scoffed and you rolled your eyes. What was his deal?

"She’s more of a lady than this one that’s for sure." Changbin jutted his thumb at Yuna who sent him a scalding look.

"Fuck you, Bin."

"I would rather you didn’t." He smirked, turning the look to you. Letting out a small chuckle, your cheeks felt even warmer, the ice water a nice contrast as you took a sip. Focusing on the older man, you two passed likes and dislikes back and forth, just getting to know each other. You weren’t sure what the other two were discussing, but you could feel the tension leave Jaemin slowly. Yuna was batting her eyelashes every once in a while, and you had a feeling her heeled foot was brushing over his shin, if not higher. You tried not to think about it, going back to your date. When the food finally came, you smiled at how good the food looked and smelled. Luckily, your food more or less blocked the scent of Jaemin’s steak. As you twisted the pasta around on your fork against your spoon, as you went to bring it to your mouth, you noticed Changbin hold his own up.

"Cheers?" He smiled and you giggled, bumping your pasta swirl against his, then eating it. It really was so good, and you could tell it was definitely Taeyong’s.

"I was surprised I couldn’t hear you from the kitchen." A familiar voice chuckled, coming up to the table."

"Hi, Taeyong-oppa." You smiled at his comment to Jaemin.

"Hyung~" He cooed and you both huffed.

"I didn’t know you were going to be here too, (Y/N)." He glanced at the other two, "You’re Yuna, right?"

"Sure am." She seemed to be in a flirty mood, her tone was still lilted.

"You are…" He pointed to the other guy.

"Seo Changbin." He nodded respectfully.

"Double date?" Taeyong’s gaze moved to you, and you nodded. He simply hummed before his gaze met Jaemin’s.

"Enjoy the food, I’ll make sure you get a discount." He bowed and then left and Yuna watched him leave.

"Oof."

"Really?" You deadpanned; she was literally on a date with Jaemin.

"I need to go to the bathroom, come on (Y/N)." She got up, grabbing her bag and you did the same to follow her. You really didn’t understand why girls always went to the bathroom together, but you would literally just follow along. When you got in there, another woman was just leaving, but otherwise it was empty. Yuna went to look in the mirror, pulling her make up bag out to touch up her eye makeup. You rested your back against the counter, it seemed neither of you actually had to go.

"Sorry that Jaemin is being weird." You grimaced a bit, your mouth going straight.

"Well, it’s obvious he is here for you so…" She didn’t seem bothered at all.

"W-what?"

"Oh, please, girl. It’s obvious he’s jealous and just came so you he could keep an eye on Changbin. I’m more here to help you not be too uncomfortable, it’s just a bonus I get to flirt with Na Jaemin." She started to put on more lipstick, but realized she still had to finish eating, so that wouldn’t make sense.

"Y-you think?" You turned to look at her and she scoffed playfully.

"Here, I’ll play it up and see what he does." She got everything back into her bag and you both went back to the table. You had no idea what those two had been doing or talking about, but the tension was thick. After you sat down, the mood lightened, and a smile came back to Changbin’s face.

"Here, have more of the shrimps." He picked a few off of his plate to give to you before you could protest. Shooting Yuna a look, she winked, and stabbed a piece of fish with her fork, holding it up to Jaemin. She hummed and you made sure not to watch, so you missed his side look at you. The small talk continued with your date, and it seemed as Yuna notched up her flirting, so did Jaemin. You two weren’t so forward, keeping it more innocent.

"Oh, here." You noticed he had some sauce on his cheek, too far away for his tongue to reach. You grabbed your napkin and dipped it in your water so you could get it off. He smiled and the warm look made your face heat, and you sat back all the way down. You yelped when Jaemin curled his ankle around the leg of your chair and hauled you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear.

"The hell are you doing?" His tone was sharper than you had ever heard from him.

"What do you mean?" Your tone hardened as well. He simple glared down at you and you scoffed, aggressively yanking your chair back to where it was, resting your chin on your palm, closing yourself off from him.

"Sorry, he’s being a dick." you whispered to Changbin, but he didn’t laugh, just sent a look at the other man.

"What’s your deal?" He shot at Jaemin whose face immediately lost its flirty grin. He could be really freaking scary when he wanted….same thing with Chenle.

"I just have a problem with people who don’t know their place." He rose an eyebrow and you swallowed hard. You really wanted the chocolate lava cake on the dessert menu, but you were getting fed up. He offered to pay for everyone, so you stood and aggressively slung your bag on your shoulder.

"Let’s go Yuna. He can get home on his own." She immediately followed you and you stopped, looking at Changbin.

"I had fun with you, I’m sorry he’s being such a douche. I’ll get your number from Yuna." You smiled, giving him a slight bow and he nodded, watching in shock as you both left.

"(Y/N)!" Jaemin shouted after you and you just picked up the pace. Yuna’s heels clicked on the tile of the restaurant floor and then on the concrete as you left. Tears were pricking at your eyes, the warm drops cold in the blowing wind.

"Hey, you okay?" She stopped you, noticing your face starting to get blotchy.

"He’s a fucking jerk." You sniffed and she sighed.

"Hey, I’m not mad, I wasn’t expecting the world from the date-"

"Not that, how he was with Changbin. If what you said it true…" You licked your lips, and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

"The reason it hurts so much is because you like him. It’s hard to see someone act like a dick when you think highly of them." She informed wisely as you both waited for the valet to get your car. You wished you parked down the road so at least you could get away faster. Waiting outside meant there was the possibility of Jaemin getting to you before you could leave. Speak…well, think of the devil, and he shall come.

"(Y/N)!" He had pushed the door open so hard; the thick plexiglass wobbled a bit in the metal frame. You groaned and told Yuna to take your car back and began to storm down the sidewalk toward your building.

"Fucking- (Y/N), wait!" He dashed past your friend, and she knew your shorter legs wouldn’t get you far if he was going that speed. As he caught up to you, you almost took off your shoes so you could start running. You tried to not wipe at your eyes, your mascara was waterproof, but your eyeliner would probably smudge.

"(Y/N)!" Jaemin finally reached you, his hand wrapping around your wrist, and he halted you in your tracks. Why was he so freaking strong? When you tried to get away, he pulled you even closer, holding both hands to his chest.

"Let go!" You were full on crying, and he was a bit shocked at this. He did as you asked and you were going to turn around and keep going, but a car, your car, pulled up next to you. Yuna got out, handed you your keys and you went to get in. Before either of you could say anything, Jaemin grabbed the keys himself and went to the driver’s side. You scoffed as he shut the door but got in the other side.

"Can you get home?" you asked her, and she nodded, waving you off.

"Changbin will get me home." You nodded and got into your car; it was a bit weird riding in the passenger seat. The ride back was silent, tension rising in the car fast, and you tried rolling the window down. Didn’t help, just made more noise. You rolled it back up, the seal making a ‘shunk’ as it closed. You licked your lips, just watching out the window. No words were said as he parked in your spot in the garage. You wanted to fester a bit in the car, but he pulled your door open and stared you down, prompting you to get out. You slammed the door shut and stomped forward past him to get into your building. You keyed in your code to the side door and didn’t even hold the door open for him. You could hear him following you though and he did all the way up to your apartment. Your door slammed shut and you both stood in the entryway, panting. Sighing, you toed the straps of your shoe and kicked them off, storming further into your place. It seemed he had done the same and was hot on your heels. As you left the entry hall and started to head into the living room, Jaemin grabbed your wrist, and you yelped as he yanked you. You found your back to the wall, halted just right so your head didn’t bang into it. His hand slammed against the wall, pinning you in, the other one still holding your wrist. You gaped at him with wide eyes, your hand held up and against the wall as well. He was PISSED. He didn’t get mad like that too often.

"What the hell is your problem?" You tried to psych yourself up, feeling incredibly small. Not only did his harsh gaze make you shrink in on yourself, but he was also bigger than you really realized. Taller and broader, he fully surrounded you. He scoffed, looking away and you sneered. He finally turned back to look at you.

"Are you really that dumb?" His tone pierced you and tears came back, frustrated and hurt.

"What?" Your voice was quiet, you face had fallen flat. Jaemin licked his lips again, biting his bottom lip before pressing both together hard. His eyes met yours and your breath hitched.

"You seriously, of all people, asked me to go on a double date with you, but you were there for someone else?" His face was close to yours; he was so close in general that you had to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

"Then, you showed up looking like that, but it wasn’t for me." He motioned with his head down, and you shuffled. Jaemin’s leg had shifted closer, his knee touching the wall.

"You even went so far as to flirt with another man in front of me." His words made you look back up to him from where you had been looking at his leg between yours.

"What’s it to you!?" You countered, trying not to move too much, he was so close, "why do you care?"

"I care because I love you, and you’re supposed to be mine!" He finally got it out. All of the fight left you and you simply gaped at him like a fish. Jaemin swallowed, not sure how to take your reaction.

"You love me?"

"Yes!" The hand pinning yours up pulled away, so your arm came down to rest limply at your side. Jaemin then rested it on your elbow, the hand on the wall shifting so his forearm was pressed against the surface. His forehead met his arm, the side of his jaw pressing against the top of your head. Your eyes couldn’t help but fall to the swath of skin revealed by his open shirt, it was right in front of you after all.

"I really wish I could have done this differently." His voice was quiet, the sharpness gone, and he spoke right into your ear. The sound seemed to rumble through you, and you didn’t know his voice could get that deep.

"Love?" You finally managed to get out and he huffed, pulling back enough that you could see each other’s faces. Jaemin brought his hand to his tie, and despite it being loose already, he loosened it further and just took it off. The fabric floated to the floor, and he took another step back so he could take off the blazer without hitting you. As he shed the garment, he continued to move away, throwing the jacket down. He turned away from you and you slumped further against the wall, watching as he rolled his sleeves up, so they bunched above his elbow. You couldn’t help but stare at his revealed forearms, a watch gracing his left wrist. On his right hand sat the ring he and all your friends shared. You had one even, but you kept in your jewelry box and only wore it when you were all together. The more you looked at Jaemin, like really looked, he had gotten way more muscular than you even realized. He caught you staring and in any other circumstance he would have smirked, but he just huffed, nearly scoffed.

"My eyes are up here, (Y/N)." He clicked his tongue and he started to walk back toward you. He had put his left hand in his pocket, the right held up with one finger out, and he poked you hard on the forehead. You flinched and yelped when your head hit the wall. Jaemin sighed, letting his arm fall and putting his other hand in his pocket as well.

"You really had no idea?" The question was unexpected, and you honestly had trouble thinking about what he meant, still out of it.

"No idea about what?" You shook your head, trying to get your bearings and he sighed dramatically, a slight whine in the sound.

"Me loving you, dummy." You blinked in response.

"N-no?"

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What about you?"

"About me, what?" He groaned in frustration and sighed really hard again.

"Do you like me back at least?" He finally decided to be direct. You simply blinked and he shook his head a bit.

"I’m going home-" He backed up and moved to leave, but you stopped him, gently wrapping your hands around his elbow.

"Wait." Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear, but he halted immediately. His back was to you, so you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on his back.

"I…I think I love you too." You truly didn’t know for sure, never really feeling that way. You were still in denial about having feelings for him at all only an hour ago.

"You think?"

"I really don’t know…I’ve never felt this way before-" Jaemin pulled away from you roughly, but then turned to you, his hands on your jaw. When you opened your mouth to continue, his lips met yours instead, swallowing the start of your next words. Honestly? Best kiss you ever had. You didn’t know if it was because Jaemin and you liked him so much, or if he was just good at it. With a whine, you brought your own hands to his, lightly gripping his wrists. Jaemin pulled back, his expression still intense but in a much different way.

"Tell me now if you don’t want to go beyond kissing, because I need to know before…" He drifted off, his eyes still pinned to your lips.

"Y-you can do what you want." Your words were shaky, along with your body, but it was more nervous excitement than anything.

"Yeah?" You hummed in response and that same cocky grin you were so used to spread over his stupidly attractive face.

"Don’t tell me that, love, I’ll hold you to it." He had leaned in as he spoke, his lips softly brushing over yours.

"Please." You nearly keened and he kissed you again. It was rougher than the last one, deeper, his hand wrapping around your ponytail and digging into your hair. He tilted your head to get a better angle. His other hand started at your waist before sliding down the sleek material of your dress till it landed on your butt. He squeezed and you gasped, allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth. Your head was swimming, and you weren’t sure if it was from lack of air or just how good it felt to have his tongue tasting yours. When Jaemin finally pulled back, you whined at the loss which made him chuckle.

"Come here, love." His arm wrapped around your waist, the other going to the back of your thigh, picking you up with ease. You whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist and you kissed over his neck and collarbone as he headed down the hall to your room. Luckily Jisung was at Chenle’s, and little did you know, it was because Jaemin had told him, "if this night goes according to plan, you will not want to be at home." And while the plan hadn’t gone exactly as Jaemin planned, the end result was the same. Your door was closed but not set in the frame, so he was able to kick it to get it open. It swung hard and slammed into the wall, luckily there was door stop, and he kicked it closed as well. When he got close enough, he literally dropped you on the bed. You bounced with a yelp, and you stopped as you tried to steady yourself, your eyes drawn to him. With rapt attention, you watched as he deftly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and untucked it, throwing it harshly to the floor. As he continued, the smirk on his face grew more and more devious, his confidence growing a little too much from your stare.

"Wanna touch?" He teased as your eyes traced every line and ridge of his torso. Without thinking, you nodded, and he laughed. The noise snapped you out of the trance, and you frowned.

"Jerk…" You mumbled and he chuckled, stepping forward slowly, prowling. His right hand gripped his belt and the waist of his pants, and when he was close enough, his hand went to your chin to tip your head. Jaemin crooked his eyebrow, and you wilted a bit under the look, more nervous excitement buzzing through you. When he stepped back, your eyes went to the hand on his belt and watched as he undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops with a snap and it clattered to the floor. Your mouth watered, and he tried not to laugh, "Your eyes are gonna burn holes through me." You flinched back, purposefully looking back to his face.

"Look all you want, love." he said, the smirk coming back. So, you did. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands, he first removed his watch, letting it clatter onto the floor as well. Same thing with his ring, he didn’t want the others having any part of this, even if it was through the friendship ring. Next, and you weren’t sure if he actually did it slowly or it played in slow-motion through your eyes, but he undid the button on his slacks, and they fell. You gasped, he did still have his underwear on, but he was just that much closer to being bare before you.

"You have too many things on." He decided and strode forward, falling to his knees at the foot of the bed where you sat. His hands went to your hips and pulled you all the way forward so hard and fast, you fell, back hitting the bed.

"Are these those tights that don’t tear?" His question threw you off a bit.

"Uh, no they were like a few dollars-" RIP. He just tore them right at the seam of the crotch.

"Jaemin!" You scolded by he ignored you; finishing ripping them and then pulled the pieces off. He could have just pulled them off normally… When the scraps were discarded, he flipped the end of your dress up, exposing your black panties and your face flushed as he just stared.

"D-don’t stare like that!" You covered your face with your hands then practically screamed when he unexpectedly buried his face between your legs.

"J-Jaemin!" You yelped, his tongue brushing harshly over the fabric, tasting your wetness though the material.

"Fuck~" He cooed at your taste, and you were extremely grateful he didn’t tear your panties off as well. What you didn’t notice though was that he pocketed them as his mouth met your bare cunt. Your back arched, breath leaving you, his tongue delving into your core. Jaemin let out an obscene groan as your walls clenched around his tongue and you whimpered. Why was he being so freaking noisy? Again, a startled yelp escaped you when his hands grabbed your thighs, roughly holding your legs open, preventing your hips from moving. It seemed he planned ahead because when he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, your entire body jerked, the air leaving you.

"Jaemin! Wait, fuck-" You sucked air in harshly, the rising pleasure so intense and before you knew it, with one last flick of his tongue, you fell of the edge. He moaned as you whined, his voice fading into a low chuckle as your orgasm ebbed. Falling boneless onto the bedding, he got up from the floor and cooed at you.

"Oh, sweet love~" His normal playful tone was weaved with heat, his words seemed to rumble through the room. Gently, he helped you sit up, kissing softly at your neck and jaw as he pulled the zipper of your dress down. You let him pull the garment up and off your head, your glazed over expression going straight to his hardening cock.

"So pretty~" Jaemin huffed in delight, leaning over to kiss you again as he unhooked your bra and slung it somewhere to the side. With a mewl, you let him pick you up again to move your further up the bed, laying you down softly and making sure your head was settled on the pillow. His next kisses were incredibly soft, going from your mouth to the crest of your cheek, your jaw, neck, collar, sternum, the swell of your breast, then his mouth sealed over your nipple. It made you shiver, but he quickly moved on, kissing to the other side, and licked over your other nipple.

"Jaemin~" You whined, needing more. He smiled, not a smirk, going back up and kissing your forehead. The man laughed when your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, trying to get him closer to kiss him again. Instead, he let you kiss over his face, his hands going to your hips and adjusting you so your legs wrapped around his waist. When he grinded his still covered hard-on into your bare core you let out a low whine.

"I need you to let me go so I can get a condom…" He laughed when you shook your head no, holding on tighter.

"Okay." He relented, wrapping his arms around you again and you yiped when he easily hauled you up and got of the bed. Holding onto him like a child, he laughed at your antics as he stooped to get his pants and get his wallet.

"You always keep one there?" You grumbled and Jaemin continued to laugh, going back to the bed.

"No, love. I planned ahead~" He let out his characteristic little-shit giggle as he laid you down again, just as softly.

"Hurry!" You wiggled, letting your legs fall so he could maneuver and get his tight black briefs off. Your jaw went slack and the smuggest simper you had ever seen on his face. No wonder he was so freaking confident all the time.

"I’ll fit." He teased and you wanted to get annoyed but was too distracted as he rolled the condom over his cock. You swallowed.

"You’re sure you’re okay with this?" His hand gently went to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. You turned your head, kissing his palm, and the soft gesture made his smile soften as well.

"Okay, love." Jaemin shifted, lightly gripping your hips and you buried your fingers in his soft silver hair as he brought his cock to your core, stroking it through your folds before starting to ease in. You gasped, trying not to clench too hard. It had not only been a while for you, but he was bigger than you were used to. Your whole body shivered, and you tried to relax and not clench him too much. You watched his brow furrow; you were tight around him and he couldn’t believe he finally got to be inside of you.

"Breathe, love." He smirked, helping you relax as he bottomed out. The walls of your cunt fluttered around his cock, trying to get used to the stretch and you tried to not dig your press-on nails into the skin of his back. He would change that though, planning on having red welts decorating his back when he got done. When he felt you relax more around him, and your body wasn’t as tense, he brought your legs up higher around your waist and gave a very shallow thrust.

"Fuck!" You moaned and Jaemin groaned, starting a slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm you yet.

"J-Jaemin!" You threw your head back after he gave his first hard thrust, nearly pulling all the way out before his hips snapped, carving his shape into your core.

"Oh, love, you feel so fucking good~" He let out a breathy chuckle, sitting back on his heels more, the angle change let the head of his cock hit your sweet spot. With each thrust, he fucked a little noise out of you, every once in a while, it would be his name or nonsense babbling.

"Hold on, love." He grunted, getting up on his knees more, his strong hands gripping your thighs so hard he would leave bruises, and threw your legs over his elbows. Jaemin smirked, rolling his hips and as the head of his cock hit the deepest part of your pussy, you came. It was sudden and your breath halted, and he froze, eyes clenching shut. He wanted this to last longer, and while he knew he could go more than one round, he really wanted to prolong it. You shivered slightly when it was over trying to catch your breath and he groaned, shifting on his knees, and grabbing another pillow to shove under your hips.

"Okay, get ready~" He practically giggled, and he began to fuck you in earnest. Your cunt was sensitive from cumming twice, but it still felt too good, and your mind was starting to fog. Your hands that were digging into the bedding scrabbled, gripping his back, not wanting to tear your sheets. He groaned as the rounded ends of your press-on nail dug into his skin, scratching down and leaving stinging lines all over his back. Jaemin chuckled deeply as you whimpered and moaned.

"You’re so good for me, huh?" You whined in response.

"Like my cock?" Whine.

"Fuck, I love you so much." He slumped forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, sucking, and licking at the skin. His thrusts stayed hard, but they lost their rhythm as he got closer to his own release. Your hands moved to around his shoulders, one still scratching up his back, the other in his hair.

"Love~" You mewled, and he huffed, burying his cock as deep as he could and came. Someday, he vowed to feel the raw heat of your pussy around him. Slowly he pulled out and you whimpered, feeling incredibly empty. He realized then that he had only brought one condom…

"Great." He grumbled, but when he saw you laying there, eyes unfocused and body limp, he realized that might be for the best. Smiling softly, he leaned down, brushing the sweat-soaked hairs from your forehead and laying a kiss there.

"Be right back, love." Jaemin pecked your lips and got off the bed. You were only semi-conscious as he went and cleaned up. He came back quick, helping you get under the covers, and he turned the ceiling fan on, so you didn’t get too hot. Somehow, you managed to stay awake as he took a cold shower and you mewled for him when he came back.

"(Y/N)~" He cooed dramatically, back to his goofy self. He had put pants back on but left his shirt off, knowing you would ogle him. Giddily, while giggling, he wiggled under the covers with you.

"You’re cold…" You mumbled and he nodded with a hum.

"Warm me~!" He opened his arms to you, and you tiredly shuffled closer and slumped into his hold. You were too tied to really appreciate laying on his half-naked body, and he soothingly pet your hair, nuzzling the top of your head.

"I love you." Jaemin whispered and you mumbled something, and he huffed, "what?"

"Love you too~" Your voice was slurred with sleepiness, and you nearly instantly fell asleep. He soon drifted off as well, but about an hour later, he was awoken by a commotion.

"Noona~!"

"Chenle, wait!" Jisung shouted after him but couldn’t get to him in time as he dashed down the hall and threw your bedroom door open. When all he saw was Jaemin propped up, glaring at him with a lump next to him, the younger stopped dead.

"Get out of there!" The youngest scolded, purposefully NOT looking as he grabbed the other one and hauled him out.

"THEY FUCKED!" Chenle nearly screamed and Jaemin collapsed to the bed with a groan and Jisung dragged him down the hall, trying to get him to shut up. You grunted a bit and Jaemin smiled, you were so cute. Your eyes fluttered open and he smiled warmly.

"He’s so freaking loud." You pouted and he dramatically acted like he had been shot in the heart.

"Oh~ So cute~" He enveloped you into his arms, holding you close and rocking back and forth. It forced a tired giggle from you, and you went limp again when he finally laid still.

"You’ll be my girlfriend." It was more like a statement than a question. You hummed.

"Of course." You ran your fingers over his collarbone, finally getting to feel and see him. Another cocky grin spread over his face as you didn’t hold back, your hands stopping on the waist band of his pants. He smirked, rolling on top of you, making sure you didn’t hold his full weight.

"For now~" You furrowed your brow, wondering what he meant. One day, my wife.

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shinestarhwaa · 1 month

Text

GETAWAY CAR || WOOYOUNG

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem reader

Word Count: 3K

Tags/Warnings: Strangers to lovers, runaway bride y/n, roadtripper Wooyoung, toxic relationship (not woo), corruption, a looot of things wrong with y/n's ex, single bed trope, sexual assault, trauma, traumabonding, oral sex, dirty language, protected sex, praise kink, fingering, biting kink

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

You swore you had never ran this fast before in your life. An occasional jogging session in the park? Sure. Played hide and seek at the age of 7 on the playground? Totally.

But you were sure this must be some kind of personal record. You cursed yourself for picking a big ass ballgown because man, it was heavy just wearing it. And now you were carrying it as you fled the church.

You were breathing so fast you thought you might have a panic attack but you also knew if you stopped now they'd find you in no time. The white heels were slightly too tight but you ran in them nonetheless, surprising yourself with this newfound talent.

Suddenly you noticed a big black van across the street and before thinking you made your way over there. There was a young man inside, handsome, you could already tell. Could be hurt you? Kill you? Yeah, possibly. Likely. But you tapped the window nonetheless.

The guy rolled down the window and raised his eyebrow, watching a young woman with sweat dripping from her forehead and obviously wearing a huge wedding dress cling to the door of his van.

"Can I help you? Drive you to a wedding, perhaps?" He grinned.

"I'm running away from it, actually. Please, I need to get in. I can't marry him, I need... Need to get in."

You looked at him with pleading eyes, grasping the door so tight your knuckles turned white. He looked concerned for a second but he nodded, hopping out of the van and opening the door on the passenger's side.

As you stepped inside and took a seat, the guy helped stuffing your train into the vehicle with you. He slammed the door and sat back behind the wheel. "A runaway bride, huh?"

"Yeah. I don't care where you're going, just drive somewhere, anywhere is better than this horrendous town," you shuddered. "Got ya," he said before starting the car. You took deep breath, calming down from the sprint you took.

"I'm Wooyoung, I'm bored so I am roadtripping" the guy said as he drove out of town, entering the highway. "Y/N," you breathed out, "professional runaway bride."

He laughed, startling you with some kind of witchy-noise or whatever the hell it was. "May I ask what the story is? I love a good story time."

You sighed and brushed your hair out of your face. "Well, I was supposed to marry this guy. This... business guy who I dated for years. This guy I completely wasted my youth on."

"Was he that bad?" Wooyoung asked. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Do you have a minute?" "Spill the beans," he said, nodding his head. "He's 7 years older, to start with. He corrupted me, being my first everything basically. We got together when I was 16, he was 23 and I was too in love to notice how wrong that was. No one around me cared, honestly. My parents and his parents are business partners and very good friends and that's how we met."

Wooyoung nodded again, understanding the moral of the story. "They just wanted you to marry well to look good, didn't they?"

You sighed. "That's right. They were planning a huge church wedding for us and it was all so overwhelming. Over the past months I realized I wasn't in a loving relationship. I've been stuck in a trap where I was going to be used as a maid with an available womb. A woman to clean the house, cook, do whatever he wants me to and birth 6 sons or whatever."

"That sounds awful, I'm glad you saw the light, for real." "Me too. I don't know what I'm gonna do now. I don't think I can ever have a functioning relationship with my parents again, or even look them in the eyes. I might need to move continents," you grinned.

"Solid idea, running away from problems is also my solution to everything."

"Oh yeah? What is your story?"

"Well," Wooyoung started, "mostly my family's high expectations of me. They want me to be a lawyer or a doctor but... I don't know. I wanna see the world. I wanna be free."

There was a sense of deep sadness in that last sentence, changing the ambience inside the van. You figured everyone dealt with their own problems as well.

"You felt trapped too?" You asked him, looking at him. He nodded. "I felt trapped too."

•♡○♡○♡•♡○♡•

After an hour of driving Wooyoung parked at a motel. "Really?" You asked him as you looked at the place in disgust. "Well, I'm no billionaire, Y/N." You nodded and followed him inside, where he bargained for a room.

"Congratulations on the wedding," the woman behind the desk said with a bright smile. Not having the energy to explain your story you thanked her and followed Wooyoung to your shared motel room.

It wasn't pretty, or luxurious like you were used to but it did the job. "I'm sorry she said she only has this room, no rooms with two single beds or anything," Wooyoung apologized.

You nodded and sat down on the bed. "I honestly don't care. I just need to sleep." Wooyoung nodded and patted your shoulder lightly. "I'm going to use the bathroom for second," he said before excusing himself.

When Wooyoung came back you were lying on your back, fast asleep. He felt sad, looking at you laying in the motel bed on your wedding day. He looked around in his bag and pulled out some cash money before exiting the room to buy some essentials.

The next morning you woke up, but Wooyoung wasn't next to you. Where did he go? Did that fucker abandon you? You sat up and looked around and noticed Wooyoung bought a bottle of water, a sandwich and a dress for you to wear. You felt tears burn in your eyes and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Pushing away your feelings, you got ready.

Half an hour later you left the room with the dress in your arms. You walked over to the van and noticed Wooyoung sitting inside it with the back doors open. "Hey," he said with a smile. "Hi, what are you doing here? Why did you get me a dress?"

"I couldn't possibly let you wear that wedding dress any longer so I got some from a convenience store last night. And... I slept here." "In the van? On that matrass? Jesus Wooyoung, we had a bed you know." "I couldn't sleep next to you. You're a woman, you were supposed to get married and... I... I didn't want to bother you or make you uncomfortable."

Tears burned in your eyes again and you sight, laying the dress in the van, next to the matrass. "Thank you, I appreciate it..." you mumbled, "Where are we going now? Do we have a plan?"

"Do I look like I plan these things?" He grinned, getting up from the van and closing the backdoor before sitting behind the wheel. You got in too and whipped out your phone, but as you suspected it was dead. Maybe that was for the best anyway.

Later on you and Wooyoung had driven for hours and it was time for a break. You got to know each other well and you thought he was surprisingly fun. It was around 2PM when you got out of the car after whining about being hungry for about 2 hours. You were leaning against the car door while Wooyoung went into the shop at the gas station to get you something to eat and drink.

Wooyoung had only been gone for a few minutes when a guy came up to you. He looked slightly crooked and he gave you an eerie feeling. Uncomfortable, you shifted a little bit and looked around, trying to spot people around you but it was quiet.

"Hey there, gorgeous," the man spoke in a low voice that gave you goosebumps. And not the good kind. You cringed when you smelled the alcohol on his breath. "Hi," you said, trying to sound brave and confident. "Are you all alone here princess?" "Princess?" You scoffed.

"Well aren't you a little princess? I could surely treat you like a princess in bed," he smirked, getting closer. Your body froze and your eyes widened as you felt the man's hands on you. Just when the man was about to touch your chest he got pulled away.

Wooyoung.

"What the hell are you doing man?" He yelled. The man stumbled and fell down, groaning and yelling something that you couldn't understand. Wooyoung nearly pushed you into the van before getting in himself, driving off quickly. He tossed a little plastic bag filled with drinks and snacks into your lap.

"Geez, I'm sorry that happened, did he go far?" "N-no it's okay," you whispered. You wanna be brave about this but the idea of what could have happened if Wooyoung came back a little later. No one else would have been around. "I got scared when I walked out of the shop and saw that man by my van. Then I realized why I didn't see you. That perverted freak was towering all over you. So, I ran. I was not gonna let that happen to you too."

Too? What did he mean by that? You shrugged off the thoughts and thanked Wooyoung before eating one of the sandwiches from the shop. Wooyoung turned back to the highway, driving further to your next stop.

There was a nice little inn right next to the road and you decided to stay the night there. The inn also contained a little restaurant where you were seated, enjoying a nice homecooked meal. You were feeling a little cold, so Wooyoung had thrown his jacket over your shoulders. It hardly worked but the thought of it warmed your heart.

"Wooyoung?" You started when you finished your meal. He nodded and looked up, his eyes finding yours. "What did you mean when you said you didn't want that to happen to me too? Why the too?"

Wooyoung swallowed thickly and sighed, slightly dropping his head before looking at you again. "Because it happened to me, a few years ago. This person... cornered me, before they tried to kiss me and feel me up while I said I didn't want them to. I felt horrible after that and I don't want you to feel that way too. You already have enough family and wedding drama, you don't need assault drama to go with it."

You took Wooyoungs hand and gently squeezed it. "Thank you for sharing that, Woo." Wooyoung kindly smiled and assured you it was all good, and that he's just glad that you are alright.

That night you learned about Wooyoung's playful side after having a couple shots with him in the hotelroom. "So what's your bodycount?" He had asked. "Excuse meee? What kind of question is that!" You yelled, nearly punching him in the face. "Hey I am just curious. I'll tell you mine! It is-" "I do not need to hear it Woo! Fine. It's 1, duh."

"You've only slept with that dickhead?" "Well I was 16 when we got together so yeah?" "Was he any good?"

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Well I don't really have any comparison? I don't know. I don't really miss it I guess? I like the idea of it but I don't necissarily enjoyed it that much?"

"I bet he didn't use his dick right." "Wooyoung, please."

"I'm serious!" Wooyoung said as he got up. "He probably had no idea how to pleasure a woman. How to make her feel loved and safe while at the same time make her scream out your name and completely ruin her."

Your cheeks heated up when he spoke those words and your eyes scanned Wooyoungs body, unintentionally. "What's that like?" You asked, sounding a little too innocent for your liking.

"Want me to show you?"

Your breath hitched in your throat. You remember what you'd heard people say one day: nothing good starts in a getaway car. Maybe you should run. Maybe you should not travel around with Wooyoung, a stranger. That is what you told yourself. But your heart said differently. Wooyoung wasn't just a stranger. He's your savior. It doesn't matter that he's not perfect, that he is on the run, that he has issues left to work out. He drove your getaway car when you needed it the most. He saved you from a life of unhappiness. You weren't unsafe with him.

And this thought made you fall.

You pulled him on top of you and pressed your lips on his, tasting the alcohol the two of you drank earlier. You weren't drunk but you sure felt lightheaded when Wooyoung slightly bit your lip. He grinned playfully as he slid his knee inbetween your thighs.

His knee gently rubbed against your clothed crotch and you whimpered into his mouth, grinding yourself on it instantly. Wooyoung pulled back from the kiss and his hands skimmed across your clothed breasts. "What a naughty little girl," he smirked, pushing his knee slightly harder into your crotch. You moaned when it triggered your clit, making your cunt clench around nothing.

"Wooyoung, please," you sighed softly. Wooyoung nodded and shifted your dress up to your waist, pulling down your panties. He got on his knees in front of the bed and pulled you closer to the edge, legs over his shoulders as he buried his face into your warmth.

You winced when you felt his teeth graze your clit before sucking lightly on it. "I'm gonna treat this pretty pussy so well, gonna make you come like he never has," he spoke. "H-he's never used his mouth on me so that is a given," you said in a breathy voice.

Wooyoung looked at you, surprised. He kept eye contact as he kept sucking on your sensitive clit, one of his fingers slowly entering your wet hole. Soon enough he slid in a second, pumping and curling them right where you liked it. Wooyoung paid attention to your facial expressions and body language to see what would make you go crazy.

When he started to fuck you with his fingers, his lips and tongue still attached to your clit you started to moan louder, unable to contain the moans that erupted from your throat. The way he pleasured you was nearly poetic. It was calculated, but heartfelt. He knew what he was doing. He knew what he wanted to say. What he wanted you to feel.

You felt your core tighten and you knew you were about to come soon. When you announced your nearing orgasm to Wooyoung he didn't stop. He kept going, ready to take the arousal that you'd give him.

This orgasm was like nothing you had ever experienced before. It started slowly and it was building up until everything crashed down and it seemed to go on endlessly, until Wooyoung pulled away from you. "That's it, that's a good girl," Wooyoung spoke.

You took a deep breath before propping yourself up on your elbows, looking into Wooyoungs eyes. Your dress had slipped down slightly, one of your nipples being visible ever so slightly. It was a sight to behold to Wooyoung. Nothing he had ever seen before felt this erotic. The prettiest, sensitive pussy right there on display for him, the fucked out look on your face. It drove him insane and he had to have you now.

Wooyoung took a condom from his bag and stripped himself bare. You were surprised to see the tattoos on his skin. You wanted to admire them but Wooyoung had put on his condom and lifted up your legs, calves resting against his chest. You nodded quickly, giving him consent to do whatever it was that he wanted to do to you.

Gently, he pushed into your cunt, spread open wide for him. "Oh, Woo!" You cried out when he started moving inside you. You were feeling sensitive after your orgasm and his pelvis brushed against your clit slightly with every thrust.

"That feels so good, k-keep doing that!" You whimpered when he picked up his pace and force. Wooyoung grunted and bit into the skin of your lower leg to surpress his moans. You whined loudly and grabbed the sheets tight into your fists, squeezing until your knuckles turned white.

Something about not being able to see your entire body but still getting the honor of being inside you and rocking your world did something to Wooyoung. It certainly did not take long before he felt himself get close, so he slowed down but immediately you begged him for more.

"Give it to me, give me everything, please!" You begged him, squirming underneath him as he leaned down more. He pounded into you and moaned out your name, his eyebrows furrowed.

"W-Wooyoung please come for me, please come, say my name," you panted out when you felt Wooyoung twitch inside your pussy. Only seconds later Wooyoung screamed out your name, spurting his seeds into the condom.

Wooyoung leaned back and spread your legs a little more so he could reach your clit. He moved his fingers over your sensitive, swollen clit and it only took a minute before you came again with Wooyoungs name on your lips.

He pulled his thick cock out of you and discarded the condom, throwing it in the trash. He placed you properly on the bed before kissing your head and making sure you're doing well.

"That was incredible," you breathed out, "you made me cum twice!"

Wooyoung laughed and stroked your hair. "Well that should be the standard." You grinned and nodded, laying your sleepy head on Wooyoungs chest. Maybe not everything about that getaway car is bad. Maybe something good can come out of it after all.

#kpop #shinestarhwaa #ateez #smut #angst #wooyoung #getaway car

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highvern · 9 months

Text

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: romance, smut, angst, exes to lovers, Christmas!AU, fake dating

Warnings: she/her pronouns, Drug use, alcohol, mentions of aging family members, unhealthy family dynamics, mentions of illness (reader is a doctor), cursing, dry-humping/grinding, kissing, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, unprotected sex, angst, poor self-esteem/self-doubt, pining, some threats of bodily harm

Length: ~24k

Note: God this was such a doozy. I started it on December 1st and barely finished it this morning. Based on Happy Place by Emily Henry (if you like romcoms I highly recommend all her books) and most cheesy Christmas movies (Exmas). Did I project my middle child syndrome onto fellow middle child Wooyoung? Maybe! BUT why write if not to explore your own trauma lmao

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy or don’t! Merry Christmas! MWAH!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

June 27th

“So I have some news. I know it hasn’t been easy for us going back—”

“I think we should break up.”

“and forth so much but—What?”

“I don’t think it's working out between us.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say before your vocal cords seize.

Your mouth falls open, lips attempting to form words that don’t manage to make a sound. Eyes shifting around the room, the sheen of tears thickening as a few beads trail down your cheeks as you stand shakily; managing only a few steps away from the table before a choked sob wiggles free from an iron grip. People are staring as you nearly run out to the door, unaware that several whip around to look at the man left sitting behind you.

Wooyoung doesn’t chase you down. Doesn’t call or text as you walk the twenty blocks to Lisa’s apartment in the thick humidity of the city night; snot and tears trailing down your face.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything at all as eight years shatter to pieces in a matter of seconds.

December 7th

Wooyoung

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight.

Wooyoung staples the finished packets together, ears tickled by jazzy Christmas music leaking from his computer speakers in the corner of his L-shaped desk. Surrounded by colorful brick walls of a midtown elementary school isn’t where most people his age would find themselves on a Friday evening but where else would he go?

His roommates have their partners over, he’d rather avoid the frigid dampness of the park he usually smokes at, and Wooyoung isn’t interested in the crowds clogging anywhere else he’d think to visit. The usual comforting bustle of the city only serves to set him on edge, making him desperate for a true solitude he really craves. Getting ahead on his classroom prep for the remainder of the semester seemed like the perfect, albeit a depressing way, to spend the evening.

The dulcet tones of Dean Martin are joined by an incoming call buzzing his phone across the wooden top of the desk. A familiar picture of his mom and him as a baby flashing across the screen before he answers.

“Hi sweetie,” his mom yells on the other line. Wooyoung can tell she’s driving home from work based on the poor audio quality.

“Hey mom,” he wedges the device between his shoulder and cheek, using his hands to continue organizing the worksheets for Monday; paper warm in his palms from the printer.

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Y/N are still coming for Christmas. I know the hospital is usually crazy this time of year so I thought I’d double check.”

“Actually mom—”

“Bibi keeps talking about wanting everyone home for Christmas but if Y/N can’t make it she’ll understand. She’s always been her favorite.” His mom laughs.

Wooyoung’s grandmother is impolitely frank about her age and never hesitates to use it to her own advantage. How does he tell her that his girlfriend, who she liked more than her own grandsons some days, is no longer his girlfriend? And how he is the only one to be blamed for that.

He might as well start digging his own grave.

“We’ll be there.” Wooyoung blabs before he can stop himself.

“Wonderful! I’m pulling into the driveway so I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Fortunately, on a cold winter night like tonight, the only other soul in the building is Mr. Rollins, a janitor with headphones permanently attached to his ears. The colorful combination of expletives pouring from Wooyoung’s mouth would make a sailor blush.

Typing in a familiar name to his message bar, Wooyoung realizes he hasn’t changed it in all this time; the string of emojis from the first night he got her number glaring back at him in mockery. A sting of bile blisters the back of Wooyoung’s throat as he steads himself for what he’s about to do. Who he is about to ask for the biggest mercy; one he didn’t deserve in the slightest.

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

Wooyoung inhales before hitting “send,” locking his phone and tossing it down like it’s possessed.

Barely a full minute passes before it vibrates with her response.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

He can’t even type a reply before the buzz buzz buzz on an incoming call tickles against his palm.

Tapping into the false chipper personality he reserves for strangers and his class, Wooyoung answers with a simple. “Hey!”

“Hi.” She deadpans.

“Is it a bad time?”

“What do you want, Woo?”

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But you aren’t calling to ask me that.”

Wooyoung wants to object but she’s right. “I’m not but I still care.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so my mom called and asked if you were coming over for Christmas.”

“Why?” Y/N asks after a pregnant pause.

“Because I haven’t told them we broke up.”

A rush of clattering sounds from her end along with a few curse words sounding far away before she continues. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s been six months!”

“I know! But I’ve been busy and there was never a good time and it’s just kinda snowballed.”

“Well, tell her now.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Bibi keeps talking about how she wants everyone how for one last Christmas and with Kyungmin going to colle—”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

“I thought us breaking up meant I didn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“I can tell them your busy and the hospital is keeping you or—”

“No,” Wooyoung can picture the hand scrubbing down her face, fingers massaging her temples the same way she always did when his shenanigans got them in trouble. “I’ll do it.”

Now he’s the one to pause, “Really?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to see them all one last time.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I actually need to get back to doing that so–”

“Yeah, I’ll, ugh, talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicks and Wooyoung is left alone in his classroom, the space abruptly feels too big. With each minute ticking by, he convinces himself he hallucinated the entire exchange because there is no possible way his ex-girlfriend agreed to this ill-thought plan. Everything feels too normal for her to extend such undue kindness his way, especially after how he ruined their relationship in a moment of insecurity.

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great

Y/N🥰🍯💖: ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

There’s a weight on Wooyoung’s tongue at the new dynamic settling between them. Eight years of dating but now she’s a stranger. The last text messages arranging for their mutual friend Lisa to pick up a box of her stuff from his apartment.

Six months and he didn’t know if she kept her hair the same way or what new book she was obsessing over in her sparse free time; if her neighbor in Boston’s yappy geriatric dog finally kicked the bucket.

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

December 10th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes up to the early morning bustle of the busy streets just outside his window. His phone clock reads thirty minutes past his normal alarm which means he’s late. And that means his boss is going to tear his ass a new one.

In a whirl, Wooyoung rushes to the bathroom. He wets his hands with the freezing tap water, patting his face and attempting to style his bed ridden hair. The door shifts to catch his foot as he exits, stubbing his toe and forcing him to hop down the hallway to his room. Wrinkled khakis and a sweater are all Wooyoung manages before he throws on his parka and is out the door.

He sprints to the subway, just in time to see the doors closing on his train.

“Fuck me!”

“Too young for me buddy,” croaks the homeless man splayed on the bench in the middle of the platform.

Ignoring him, Wooyoug paces further down the station, anger filling him with restless energy. Glancing at his phone, he shoots an email to his principal that he’ll be late due to “train delays.” Thank god for the MTA being a regular piece of shit.

Finally checking the stream of missed notifications during the night, he uses the lull to answer them.

Mom: Does y/n still like those chips we bought last time? I’m at the store getting a few things

Wooyoung: She said she’s happy with whatever you get!

Not a lie since Y/N would be happy to have snacks of any kind.

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS?

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

At least he can always count on San to state the obvious.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket

Wooyoung does a double take when he sees she’s flying out of New York, not Boston. Why isn’t she flying out of Boston? There’s no way it’s cheaper than flying out of Boston and she wouldn’t go through the trouble of getting down here unless she had a good reason.

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

A lump of lead hardens in his stomach. She lives here, in New York. She’s been in the city and he didn’t even notice. Questions race forward. How long has she been here? Where is she working? What neighborhood is she in? Why didn’t he know she moved back?

The last question is more his own fault than he cares to admit.

His train arrives without preamble, brakes screeching as it slows to a stop. Wooyoung crowds into the compartment, happy for it to be relatively empty. Finding a spot on the wall, he zones out of the chaos for the next twenty minutes. A group of highschoolers laugh obnoxiously in the corner, snatching one another’s phones as they share god knows what between them. A young mom tries to placate her crying baby, the older man next to her rolling his eyes as he devours his morning paper. When the doors open at his stop, Wooyoung pauses for a second as an elderly woman enters the train. Catching her eye, he offers her his seat; only standing when she’s close enough so no one else tries to take it from her.

Wooyoung slithers out of the closing doors and bolts out of the station as fast as he can.

Panting and sweating under his black parka, Wooyoung arrives outside the red doors of the elementary school he teaches at. Principal Martinez is tapping his foot at the top of the steps, arms crossed in front of his chest, scowl etched deep on his face.

“This is the third time this month.”

“I know, I’m sorry! But the train got delayed with repairs or something and—”

“Save it. You have a class to get to.”

Breezing past, Wooyoung’s boots clack against the linoleum tile as he careens towards his classroom. The rowdy cacophony of third grade voices echo beyond the doorway, only increasing in volume as he peeks his head in.

A dozen shrill voices scream something along the lines of, “Mr. Jung you’re late!”

“You’re all just early!” Wooyoung goads back, sending a thankful look at the teacher who stepped in to watch them till he arrived.

The room descends into giggles, students finding their places as he settles at his own desk.

“So today, we’re starting with circle time!”

Y/N

“Let me get this straight: your ex asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend and now you’re spending Christmas with his family?”

Sparing a glance from the manilla folder containing notes on your next patient, you see Hongjoong watching you skeptically. The ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on you. You’d nearly convinced yourself the entire exchange Friday night was some cruel dream if not for the string of text messages proving it’d been real. Wooyoung’s first real attempt to speak with you post-breakup, and he asks you to pretend he didn’t break your heart six months ago.

“That’s about as straight as it gets.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow, “And you said yes, why?”

“Because…”

You missed him? Because you still loved him? Because when you saw his message you thought he was finally ready to admit it'd all been a mistake?

Because Wooyoung always convinced you to go along with whatever he asked?

“I really like his family.”

“Oh, sweet child.” He clicks, leafing through his own case file.

“Look, it’ll be nice to see them one last time and I’d rather spend the holidays with them than cramped in my apartment to avoid the tourists.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason why?”

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

“Shut up,” you say before dipping into the exam room, shifting your face into an enthusiastic smile. “How are we today, Mrs. Haspin?”

“We’re doing okay. Harper hasn’t been liking the new medicine you prescribed.”

“She hasn’t?” You gasp sarcastically, staring wide eyed at the tiny brunette with braided pigtails sitting on the exam room bed.

“They’re gross!” Harper cries with all the sincerity a four year old can muster, her tiny hands wrinkling the paper as she slaps the bed indignantly.

“Well that’s no good. I’ll make sure to check if they have other flavors.” You type a few notes in her electronic chart as you turn over your shoulder. “Mom, have you noticed a difference?”

“She’s not having as many coughing fits.”

“That is very good.” You curl your stethoscope in your palm, attempting to warm the cool metal. “Can I listen to your lungs, Harper?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously, the pink and gold beads at the end of her pigtails clacking together.

“Alright, take a deep breath in.” The woosh of air entering her lungs fills the room. “And out. In. And out.”

You prompt her to continue several times, gliding the chestpiece along various parts of her back as you listen intently. A few crackles pop in your ears, mucus coating her airways; only made worse by the dry winter of the city.

“Very good, Harper.” you praise before turning to her mom waiting anxiously in the corner. “With the winter make sure you’re using the humidifier as much as possible but her lungs sound better than last time so I’d like to stay on the meds.” You swivel back to your patient. “I’ll check with the pharmacy if they can do something about the flavor. Okay?”

Harper beams, glad to be heard. Her mother beams for an entirely different reason. Her daughter struggled with respiratory issues since she’d been born and as she aged they’d only gotten worse. Harper was the first patient you took when you started two months ago and in that time you’ve grown fond of her.

“All right, I’ll walk you all to the front. I think we can push out our next visit until six weeks since she’s been doing so well. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

Handing them off to the receptionist to schedule their next appointment, you return to your office for a quick lunch.

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

How do you tell him that you’ve lived here since the day he broke up with you? How that night at dinner you were planning to surprise him by moving back to New York and removing the distance that plagued your relationship for three years?

The benefit of no longer being in a relationship means you don’t have to explain anything.

Locking your phone, you scarf down the squashed sandwich you brought from home before rushing to your next patient.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung: since when?

Wooyoung checked his phone after finishing pick up duty, one of several over the next month as a bargain to keep his job.

She’d ignored him. It wasn’t the first time his messages went hours before being answered. She was a doctor, and before that a med student, and before that pre-med when they’d met at some dive and realized they shared a behavioral psych class. Y/N always maintained a full schedule, only responding to the outside world when the night bled into the early hours of the day.

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

Even his roommate knew she’d been in the city.

Double fuck.

December 14th

Y/N

Another week passes before Wooyoung reaches out to you again. You’re set to leave in a few days but work requires all the energy you can manage thanks to a volatile respiratory season.

Youngie 🖤: Our flights are around the same time. Do you wanna carpool?

You spoke with Yeosang frequently enough (once in a blue moon) to know they still lived in the dingy old walk up they could hardly afford. The high rise you rented further up Manhattan would be on his way to the airport but did you want to see Wooyoung sooner than needed?

Misery still festered in your veins since the break up. Eight years you’d dated; through senior year of undergrad, four years of medical school, and just shy of three years of residency. And the asshole couldn’t give you a single reason for your break up. No warning. No fighting. The same bouquet of delicate pink tulips waiting in hand for you as you arrived at the train station for your last visit to the city before relocating permanently. Yeosang texted you that very afternoon about his excitement to have you back as if nothing was wrong.

A beautiful afternoon holed up in his room for a late nap before dinner, apartment silent in the absence of his three roommates who’d usually greet you enthusiastically as you returned to the city for a visit. Wooyoung hadn’t acted any differently than the other times you visited, seemingly unaware of the surprise you planned to unveil at the fancy dinner he planned to congratulate you on finishing your long years of training.

But then he sat down and said the six words that replayed in your mind like a curse.

And that was the last time you heard his voice until Friday night; as if Wooyoung dove off the face of the earth. The only proof of living were the traces of him in his friends’ Instagram stories or faceless photos of him in their posts.

You’d never been one to post much on social media anyway but his shock at your move back to the city fanned a sick sense of satisfaction. As if to say “two can play at that game.” Wooyoung cut you out and you’d done the same. Keeping your move under lock and key despite sharing the same friend group.

Y/N: no thanks

You’re toeing the line of rudeness but what’s Wooyoung going to do? Break up with you again?

December 21st

Wooyoung

Terminal C of LaGuardia Airport four days before Christmas ranks among the top destinations no one in their right mind would want to be. Parents attempting to keep track of hyper children, businessmen scowling down their nose as they scream into their cellphones, adults slamming down overpriced drinks in preparation for the endless questions holidays bring.

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

The last is Wooyoung’s grandmother’s new favorite. Myungho faces the brunt of it; married three years and in no rush to add another mouth to feed just yet. When Wooyoung flew home for Bibi’s birthday in April, she decided to turn her inquiry towards him and Y/N.

How fun it’ll be to answer those questions again with his temporarily not ex-girlfriend.

Security is long and laborious. One agent yells at him for keeping his shoes on, another rolls her eyes when he asks if his laptop needs to come out of his backpack. In front of him, a frail looking elderly woman struggles with placing the hard plastic bin on the rolling conveyor belt. Behind, grumbles of discontent regarding her holding up the line rise in volume as Wooyoung helps her with her things; sending a smile to her thank you.

And because no good deed goes unpunished, Wooyoung gets pulled for an extra search once he passes the large metal detector.

A burly pale skinned man with blue nitrile gloves sorts through his belongings with the gentleness of a bull in a china shop. Wooyoung’s wrecked and dusty backpack passes inspection easily enough but the contents of his carry-on end up spread across the shiny metal table for further examination under the sterile lights. Gifts for his family, some books he’s teaching next semester, and a navy velvet box he hasn’t left the city without in the past year.

That is apparently the source of interest for TSA as the man pops open the lid to scan the marquis cut diamond ring before putting it back in its place.

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” Wooyoung gives a tight smile.

Nodding his head to his colleague, the TSA agent steps away and allows Wooyoung to pack his bags.

He really needs a drink.

Y/N

“I’m sorry ma’am, the flight is overbooked. But there is room on the next flight to Denver!”

“No charge?”

“Not unless you would like to upgrade to business class.”

You have the money and Wooyoung paid for your seat so it’s technically cheaper than it’d usually be. However, Wooyoung would take it personally if he found out you sat in business when he paid for a last minute economy flight on a teachers salary. A few hours of comfort aren’t worth adding to the awkwardness you’ll face over the next week.

“No, thank you. But if there’s an aisle seat available that’d be great.”

She taps on her keyboard with manicured nails for a moment, the light of the screen reflecting on her face, before speaking with a perfect customer service smile. “Alright, your new flight number is AYX287 and you’ll be flying out of Gate 98.”

“Thank you.” You say, reviewing the boarding pass she printed. Your new gate is on the opposite side of the terminal but you have a little over an hour to make it there.

Rolling your silver carry-on next to you, you weave in and out of the other airport goers heading in the opposite directions. A curse of any crowded space, people forget to walk with a sense of purpose. You dodge a young couple, probably teenagers, standing in the middle of the walkway oblivious to anyone else; only to end up behind an gaggle of older women surrounded by a heavy cloud of perfume and cheap wine. One of their shirts reads “Happily Divorced!” in glittery cursive.

More nimble footwork and multiple sign checks later, you reach the correct wing of the terminal with forty five minutes to spare. Confirming that your gate does in fact exist, you turn back up the walkway to find a drink. Preferably several.

The first time you see Wooyoung in months will require the strongest alcohol you can finally afford now that residency is over and you're making the hefty salary you’d been promised at the start of medical school.

A friendly faced woman, old enough to be your mother, greets you as you take a stool at her bar.

“Cranberry margarita.”

“Wanna start a tab?”

“Yes, please.” You answer, handing over your credit card.

The first overpriced drink goes down smoothly, a little sweet and perfectly tart. The second and third much the same. Pleasantly buzzed with fifteen minutes till boarding, you cash out and shuffle back to wait by the gate.

And in one of the cramped pleather seats of the waiting area, sits your ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is hallucinating. Two gin and gingers and a THC gummy churning in his stomach make the mirage in front of him look incredibly realistic.

In her usual flying outfit, Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend stands twenty feet away every bit as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Loose gray sweats, the same old hunter green crew neck with the name of his hometown in frayed golden embroidery on the front, sherpa lined short ugg boots, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. The silver carry-on she bought in the airport last time they visited his family at her side.

And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting her lips.

Better he sees her for the first time since their break up now instead of later in front of the audience of his nosy family. In the safety of anonymity, she can kill him multiple times over with her eyes, and Wooyoung can grovel and pander like he usually does.

Or Wooyoung would if she hadn’t taken a seat along the bay of windows at the opposite end of the alcove.

Wonderful.

Y/N actively avoids looking in his general direction for the next fifteen minutes. An impressive feat given he’s directly in front of the help desk and TV screen displaying updates for their flight. But she digs her nose into her phone, tapping furiously to who Wooyoung assumes is her best friend. If he wakes up to Lisa in his apartment one morning with a knife to his throat, there’ll at least be a paper trail of evidence.

The gate agent booms over the loudspeaker, announcing priority boarding and first class to come forward. Wooyoung’s bank account weeps at the idea of flying first class during Christmas. Who flies first class domestic? A true mystery for the ages.

The familiar head of hair, full of murderous thoughts aimed at him, boards with group three. Flashing a polite smile to the gate agent as she struts down the hall without a glance back.

When Wooyoung is called with the last group, he’s first in line. The airport is a dog eat dog world and his good deeds end where the boarding line begins.

Nearly every seat is filled when Wooyoung shuffles down the cramped aisle, full overhead bins already closed half way down the plane. He doesn’t spot Y/N amongst the faces of passengers preparing for the next five hours, some already knocked out with eye masks and neck pillows.

Seat 27A, a window seat Wooyoung paid an extra $37 for, sits next to a blissfully vacant middle seat. There’s also just enough room for his black suitcase to fit overhead, snug between a gray hard case, and a blue duffle.

The aisle seat in the row is occupied by a man who looks a little younger than Wooyoung's age, a college hoodie and baseball cap similar to his own. He rises, allowing Wooyoung to shuffle by and plop into his chair. Stuffing his backpack under the seat in front, Wooyoung shoots a few last minute texts. One to his family group chat, letting them know the flight is about to take off; resending the flight number for his dad to anxiously track. Another to his roommate group chat, reminding them to cover the drains before they leave town. And a final one to San, begging for thoughts and prayers.

He barely hits send when the seat next to him jostles with the weight of a body. Turning, Wooyoung spots the man in the aisle seat a few inches from himself. On the other side, his ex-girlfriend.

Great.

Y/N

Wooyoung’s familiar mop of dark hair remains unseen through each new rush of passengers, the plane slowly filling up more and more. You dread to think he got stuck the same way you did hours ago, forced on a later flight than intended. If that was the case, would you be stuck at the airport waiting for him? Given his parents had to drive two hours to pick you both up, the answer is probably yes. And two hours unsupervised with Wooyoung’s mom would ruin the entire plan.

Nature calls you to the cramped bathroom at the back of the aircraft as passengers at the front continue trickling in. Hopefully Wooyoung is sitting far away from you when you return to your seat.

Stupid motherfucker. You think, rattling the jammed door of the airplane stall in an attempt to force it open. Just as you're about to kick the door down, a flight attendant shoves it aside, flashing a tight smile of displeasure.

Shuffling up back to your seat, you awkwardly wait behind struggling passengers putting away their belongings in the sparse overhead space. Thank the powers that be, your new ticket came with better boarding.

Finally catching up to the familiar faces of the rows around your seat, you turn to find two men in your row. One in your seat, and the other your ex boyfriend.

You stop dead in your tracks, with a loud, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry!” The man who is not your ex-boyfriend apologizes.

“No! Not you, sorry!”

Wooyoung just stares blankly. If habit and history were to repeat itself, Wooyoung carefully timed an edible before stepping through security. Given his propensity for being obnoxiously early to the airport, he should be high as a kite.

And now you’re stuck next to him drunk as a skunk.

Great.

Taking the now vacant aisle seat, you attempt to ignore Wooyoung once again; plugging in your headphones and pulling out a book you’ve been trying to get through for months. Lisa’s recommendation of smutty fantasy romance with hot immortal faeries. You didn’t see the appeal but at her insistence, you gave it a chance.

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left.

Nope, not doing this. You think, forcing yourself to read the opening paragraph again but registering none of the words..

“Y/N,” he tries again.

In your periphery, you can see Wooyoung folding over at the waist to look around the man sandwiched between you.

“What?” You snap, ripping out your headphones.

“How’ve you been?”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you sink back into your chair, headphones replaced and book in the pocket in front of you. It’s going to be a long flight.

Murphy’s law states that anything that can go wrong will and your flight is no exception. The packed jet is stuck taxing for almost an hour, courtesy of the trademark fog and rain of New York in the winter. You can feel the heat of Wooyoung’s gaze burn the side of your face, cheeks heating under his scrutiny. But the full scale meltdown threatening to unleash if you entertain him has no place in the sanctity of a last minute holiday flight of people just trying to make it to their next destination.

He doesn’t stop when the plane finally lurches forward, witnessing you brace for the worst part of flying; take off.

The loud rattles and pitch of jet engines skyrocket your blood pressure, flooding your mouth with saliva as a threat of vomiting everywhere; a sickening cold sweat pooling at your back. All you can do is close your eyes, and take deep calming breaths your guided meditation apps recommend. Running through the facts keeps you from descending into full panic. Airplanes are notoriously safe. The odds of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. You’re more likely to die in a car crash or from something one of your patient’s brings into the hospital.

But the brief suspension in time and space as you rise through the atmosphere unsettles you to your core.

The panic steeping into your veins is temporary, eager to vanish the second you reach cruising altitude. It disappears like a late winter snow under early spring sunlight, leaving only trace evidence it ever existed in the first place. But it’ll be back with a vengeance under the screaming brakes and the sounds of wheels hitting pavement as you land.

The seatbelt sign chimes off, and the breath you’d failed to release follows the fading light that illuminated it.

Wooyoung tries to talk to you another two times before giving up. The final instance is a plea for the bathroom, which you graciously grant; thrilling in the relief you feel at his absence.

The poor guy between you two looks worse for wear, having offered to trade seats with either of you so you didn’t have to talk across him. You apologize once Wooyoung is out of earshot, excusing the strange behavior with a white lie that he's just a friend from college you didn’t get along with and hadn’t seen in a while. The stranger's name is Jay, and he laughs at the irony.

“That’s crazy that you two ended up on the same flight. Are you from Denver?”

“Oh, no. Just visiting some family in Lavensville. What about you?”

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

“Small world,” you laugh. “So what took you to the city?”

“I’m in grad school at Columbia. Getting my MBA.”

“Excuse me.” Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder.

When you rise, you notice his face is tense as he passes to return to his seat. He pretends to sleep the rest of the flight as you chat with the man next to you.

Six laborious hours pass before you land in Denver. Exiting the plane, you leave Wooyoung behind in favor of waiting by the restrooms on the way to arrivals. You tap your foot impatiently as he stumbles over, clearly exhausted by the late arrival of your flight and the idea of another two hours in his mom’s cramped sedan.

Shuffling next to one another in somber silence, you wait for Wooyoung to speak first. He dragged you into this, and it’s his job to make it work.

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Look.” He turns, stepping directly into your path and nearly toppling over when you bounce off his chest. “I’m sorry for all of this but you agreed to come so can we please at least act cordial?”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung is right. He might have put his foot in his mouth, but you didn’t take the chance to bail. He’s only fractionally more guilty than you.

“Fine.” You sigh.

He pins you with a look, eyebrows arched as if asking “are you sure?”

Shuffling around him, you begin your journey to baggage claim once again, Wooyoung hot on your heels.

“I’m working at a hospital uptown, I live in Yorkville, and I still prefer the buses to the train.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Wooyoung nods. “I’m at the same school, in the same apartment, and still living with San and Yeosang. But Mingi moved to Williamsburg with his girlfriend.”

You try to smother the snarkiness of your voice but a sarcastic “I know.” slips free.

Even if you weren’t as close with the boys due to the break up, they’d been your friends as much as his; especially Mingi’s girlfriend, who’d you introduced him to. Lia invited you to their housewarming party when they finally settled in but you missed it due to work, and the nerves of seeing Wooyoung so soon after such a fresh break up.

The conveyor belt of remaining unclaimed luggage spins like the saddest merry-go-round in existence. Wooyoung jumps forward to snatch your suitcase before you can react, rolling it your direction before diving back in for his own. Once out of the way, he calls his mom to confirm she’s pulling around to pick you two up.

The silver sedan whips to the curve, Wooyoung’s mom beaming from the driver’s seat.

“My babies!” She cries through the rolled down window.

Mrs. Jung always gave you the enthusiasm your own mother couldn’t feign. Smiling at her before circling the trunk where Wooyoung packs away your bags, you snatch his hand before he can throw it closed.

“Should we tell them I still live in Boston?”

As if you’ve just spoken another language, Wooyoung simply blinks at you.

“How are we gonna explain separate apartments? It makes no sense.”

“Oh,” he gasps, as if the thought didn’t occur to him. “Ugh, yeah good idea.”

The security guard monitoring the pick up area begins striding towards the car, inhaling to yell a warning. Throwing your remaining luggage inside the trunk roughly, you both sprint to enter the vehicle. Wooyoung plants himself in the passenger seat, squeezing his mom in a tight hug as you buckle in the middle seat. Untangling from her needy son, Mrs. Jung peels out and joins the line of cars attempting to merge on the interstate.

Reclining the seat back, Wooyoung knocks out immediately, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“How’s Boston, dear?” She chimes, voice light and bouncy despite the late hour.

You provide your stock answer for everytime someone asks over the past three years.

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

You try to swallow the instinct to comb through Wooyoung’s hair as he naps. The first thing you learned about him in the early phase of your relationship was that Wooyoung needed some kind of physical contact at all times or he’d die. At least, he thought so. It’d been annoying at first; the constant hand holding, suffocating hugs that left your arms useless as you tried to study, even the overabundance of cartoonish kisses anywhere his lips could reach. But over eight years, you grew to appreciate his special way of showing affection. When words failed the man who always had something to say, he relied on touch to convey the things he couldn’t verbalize.

Even if you say all the right things and act like nothing's wrong, anyone who has ever been associated with Wooyoung will know something is up if he isn’t hanging off you like a koala. So if you’re going to pretend the last six months hadn’t happened then you have no reason not to treat him the way you always had.

Your nails snag on a few invisible tangles in his shaggy hair that spills across the cloth seat. It’s longer than when you last saw him in the summer, top half pulled back in an elastic. Continuing to provide updates, you gently brush the bangs hanging in his face. Wooyoung whines sleepily when you pause, causing his mom to laugh.

“Nice to know the city hasn’t changed him.”

Quick to appease, you start again before responding. “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen some of his shoes?”

“Still?” She gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

Mrs. Jung’s cackly laugh is a perfect doppelganger of her son’s. Shrill and mischievous, compelling you to laugh along in pure glee even if you don’t find shared humor; bewitched by the pure joy.

Once the initial rush of reunion wanes, she insists you doze along with her son. The gentle caress of warm air from the vents, paired with the smooth carols from the radio, lulls you down into a shallow rest.

Wooyoung

As his mom rolls to a stop in their driveway, the gentle glow of the car's cabin lights draw Wooyoung awake. Eyes only a quarter open, he stretches in the reclined seat with an obnoxious yawn, hands brushing the firm body of Y/N dozing behind him. She shrugs his hand off her thigh, burrowing back down into the collar of her sweater.

“Come on, sleepy heads. We’re home.” His mom announces as she opens her door.

Home for Wooyoung is a cream two story, five bedroom, three bathroom, Williamsburg Revival style home with royal blue shutters. His dad added the two car garage himself, meticulously matching the exterior to the existing home, blending old and new seamlessly under the watchful eye of his mom. The now gray and dead garden that usually bloomed wildly below the first floor windows was his grandmother’s contribution when she moved in before Wooyoung started highschool.

When his parents were two college students at the obscure liberal arts college Lavensville was built around, his mom had been obsessed with the very house Wooyoung grew up in. According to his dad, Wooyoung’s mom talked more about the house than anything else; a true historic preservationist to her core.

It was an odd way to ask someone to marry you, but his dad always said “Some women wanted a ring. Your mom wanted this house.”

His dad surprised her with the ring after she stopped crying about the house.

Golden string lights drip from the corners of the roof, casting the exterior in a buttery soft haze. Each window sporting a wreath with a thick red velvet ribbon. A heavy layer of snow coating the ground like powdered sugar makes the entire scene like something out of a snowglobe.

Another yawn before braving the inevitable blast of chilly air, Wooyoung spots Y/N in the rearview mirror; features curled in a sleepy scowl, eyes squinted against the sudden light.

Wooyoung joins his mom at the back of the car, crowding her away from the truck as she insists on helping them carry everything inside. She manages to snag his backpack and Y/N’s carryon before he can shoo her towards the path to the front door where his dad is jamming on an old pair of sneakers to come help.

“We got it!” Y/N calls across the icy lawn, bidding the older man to stay inside as she struggles with her suitcase.

“I can see that.” His dad laughs, jogging down the salted sidewalk curving along the front of the house to reach them.

His dad lifts her larger suitcase out of the truck with ease, leaving Wooyoung to roll his own inside while Y/N balances her tote bag and his carryon. The wheels grate against the uneven brick sidewalk as everyone rushes to return to the heated interior of the house.

It’s well past midnight as they climb the staircase in the foyer to the second floor. Wooyoung’s room is just as he left it the last time he visited in the spring. The headboard of the tiny twin bed resting against the wall just under the window looking out to the front yard, posters from his childhood still tacked up crookedly.

Wooyoung tries very hard not to think about the last time they shared the quilt covered bed of his childhood room. How the last trip here had been the last time Y/N slept in his arms, the last time he laid her bare beneath him. Six months and the memories felt as real as they had when it happened.

Sharing the tiny mattress could only mean trouble for the delicate truce Wooyoung had made with her in the airport.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He offers, unzipping his suitcase for clean clothes to sleep in.

Digging in her own suitcase, Y/N scoffs at the idea. “Don’t be stupid, what if Bibi comes in?”

“She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s gonna happen again.

“We can share the bed, it’s too cold up here to sleep on the floor.” Y/N says as she grabs her toiletry bag and shuffles to his door. “You’re a diva when you don’t get good sleep.”

“I’m not a diva” Wooyoung whines after her, rebuttal bouncing off the piece of wood separating them.

When Y/N returns from the bathroom, Wooyoung takes his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face. It’s just for a few days, he reminds himself. She leaves the day after Christmas and after he returns to the city he can tell his family they decided to part ways.

Until then, Wooyoung gathers all the patience he typically reserves for the army of eight year olds he deals with every day in an effort to not descend into insanity.

He finds her balancing on the edge of the narrow mattress, a sliver of space behind her for him to sink into. Neither says anything as the minutes tick by, both refusing to fall asleep despite the fatigue swirling over them attempting to find root. Back to back, Wooyoung stares at the wall as he tries not to listen to the gentle whoosh of Y/N breath.

December 22nd

Y/N

Shuffling into the cold kitchen, you barely crack your eyes open as you beeline for the coffee pot resting on the counter. Wooyoung’s mom greets you from the dining table, eyes scanning her newspaper as you reply with a mumble “morning.”

One would think years of twenty-four hour shifts and early mornings would make waking up easier but you’d sleep all day if given the chance; however, Wooyoung suffocating you like an octopus forced you from the heated sanctuary under the covers and downstairs. Already it was too easy to pretend you were still together. Waking up tangled in him, his face squashed against your sweater clad chest as he snored, blissfully unaware of the budding panic attack you’d calmed with a freezing shower full of choked tears.

Planting your rear in a dark oak dining chair around the table, the jolt of caffeine and sugar lulls your senses awake as you scroll your phone.

You send a text to your little brother, confirming your parents had made it to their cruise safely while your flight crossed the country. Two weeks in the Caribbean, all expenses paid, sounded a lot better than a week in rural Colorado with your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, there’s no cell service in the middle of the ocean; so you don’t need to explain to your mother why you were spending Christmas with Wooyoung, who she truly was never fond of to begin with.

Sometime after bed, Lisa sent a string of vaguely threatening emojis and a picture of her yorkie with the Christmas sweater you bought as an early gift. Assuring her Wooyoung had been on his best behavior so far, you switched over to skim your clogged work email.

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?”

“This is fine.” You say, raising your mug.

“How can you be a doctor and try to tell me coffee is a healthy breakfast?”

“I have horrible news if you think doctors have time to do any of the things we tell people they should.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here then because you have plenty of time now.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung hates waking up alone. It feels inexplicably wrong. Especially after sharing an apartment with Y/N for those four years she was in medical school. There’d been plenty of road bumps but spending every night curled up under the comforter with the woman he loved made it all fade to black. He never slept as good as those years.

Except this morning, he wakes up to Y/N’s fingers brushing his hair like she always did when they’d been together, and for a second Wooyoung thinks the entire breakup must’ve been a horrible dream. Wooyoung hadn’t moved a muscle lest the passes of her short nails sending goosebumps down his spine stopped. Eventually, the lazy drags lulled him back into the land of sleep as her heart sang his favorite lullaby.

The second time Wooyoung woke up, she’d been long gone and he felt the familiar emptiness he thought he’d forgotten after all these months apart.

Trudging down the stairs with loud footsteps, Wooyoung spots his mom in the kitchen, mouth spread wide over laughter as Y/N sits at the counter, cradling a mug of steaming coffee. If Wooyoung had to bet, the ceramic mug probably contained more sugar and milk than anything.

“Morning,” he grumbles, forehead resting against the cool marble of the island as he continues to doze in front of the audience.

His mom pats his back as she passes to reach the fridge, “Go sit down, Woo. You're in my way!”

“Everyone is so mean to me,” he pouts, but rounds the counter to sit next to Y/N nonetheless, resting his cheek on her shoulder, feeling her startle at the contact.

Wooyoung hides a satisfied smirk in her sweater when a hand starts scratching his back under his hoodie. He can almost forget their lying to everyone in the gentle passes of her cold fingers chilling against his hot skin.

“Your brother is getting in this afternoon so we thought of letting everyone relax until this evening and then having a game night.” His mom calls over her shoulder, busy with the pan heating in the flames of the stove.

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

“He went with Bibi to volunteer at the church this morning.”

“Sucker,” Y/N mumbles for Wooyoung’s ears only, sending him into giggles.

Wooyoung’s grandmother has a particular way of guilting everyone in his family to do exactly what she wants. It’s why he’s sharing his childhood bed with his ex-girlfriend, why his dad keeps the house unbearably warm all year round, and why his little brother is no doubt undergoing military grade interrogation first thing in the morning.

Going to church with Bibi was less about being closer to God and more about being paraded in front of her old lady friends with single granddaughters. Wooyoung had been a victim until he met Y/N, each summer at home more exhausting than the last with not so subtle reminders Ms. So-and-so's granddaughter was very pretty and very available. But the second Wooyoung sent a picture to his mom of the girl he had not so casually started dating fall semester of senior year, his grandmother ceased all effort to set him up. And after she met Y/N at graduation, Wooyoung beamed with the knowledge his entire family not only approved but liked his girlfriend.

Leaving poor Kyungmin to bare the brunt of Bibi’s well-meaning torture almost made Wooyoung feel guilty. Operative word being almost. Because Wooyoung had survived it, their older brother had survived it, and now it was Kyungmin’s turn to endure the special brand of Jung family meddling.

And the second his family finds out he's technically single, Wooyoung knows it’s only a matter of time before Bibi smothers him in his sleep for breaking up with the girl she considers family. And after, when she resurrects him from the dead, Wooyoung will be thrown to Bibi’s friends like a sacrificial lamb to starving wolves.

Stealing a sip of Y/N’s overly sweet coffee can’t clear his mouth of the sour taste.

“Wooyoung, you need to make up the guest bed for your brother.” His mom says, dropping a plate of eggs and toast on the counter for him and Y/N to share.

“What about her?” Wooyoung asks, lips stretching as he stuffs his face.

“She’s a guest!”

Washing down a harsh swallow with another sip of coffee, Wooyoung mutters a “hardly,” under his breath.

“Get your own!” Y/N snaps, shoving the mug out of his reach.

Wooyoung responds with a high pitched whine, huffing similar to a toddler rather than a man who's almost thirty. “Why are you both being so mean to me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Rising to pour his own mug of caffeinated gold, his mom quickly claims the empty chair before she bats Wooyoung away. Claiming something about “girl time” as an excuse to get him out of the kitchen before he can truly annoy them to his fullest potential.

Y/N

When the afternoon rolls around, Bibi greets you with a fierce hug and a grandmotherly pinch to your cheek, smiling up at you as she asks for any and every update since she last saw you in April for her birthday.

Luckily, Kyungmin unconsciously rescues you as he enters the house, boxes piled high in his arms of goodies from the other ladies at church trying to court him on their granddaughter’s behalf. Rushing to his aid, you give him a gentle side hug as you walk with him to the kitchen.

“So…” you start, eyeing the stacks of cookies crowding the counter. “How was church?”

A pained groan answers you, Kyungmin dropping his head to the marble counter with a thud.

You can’t contain your snicker, snagging one of the deformed gingerbread men to dunk in your fresh cup of coffee.

“Only a few more months,” Kyungmin mutters under his breath, the reprieve of college clearly tethering him to sanity.

Wooyoung told you all about Bibi’s ways when you started dating, thankful to no longer entertain doting mothers and grandmothers interested in him only because he was single and knew basic manners unlike many of the men lurking around Lavensville. Poor Kyungmin didn’t stand a chance if Wooyoung hadn’t managed to charm his way out until he got a girlfriend Bibi approved of.

“At least we get snacks out of it!” You clap, continuing to sort his haul as Kyungmin hides in his arms.

A tan hand sneaks over your shoulder to steal the decapitated cookie still in your grip, turning to see Wooyoung nibbling on arm as he observes the collection of cookies, fruit, and other treats.

“Come on!” You stomp your foot like a toddler.

“Tastes better when it’s stolen.” Wooyoung winks, forcing you and his brother to dry heave in unison. Your reaction isn't genuine, only an effort to hide the squeeze in your chest at how easily he can fall back into old habits after months of radio silence.

Wooyoung’s mom breezes into the kitchen, unbothered by your bickering as she types out a text message.

“Myungho and Mia land in an hour. Your dad is already on the way to pick them up.” She rattles off, more to herself than anyone else. “Kyungmin, you need to tidy all of this up. Wooyoung you already put clean sheets on the guest bed? Great. Y/N, dear, would you mind helping with dinner later?”

“Of course.”

—

Dinner consists of chili you didn’t assist with other than pulling out extra toppings from the fridge for, and everyone chattering around the table. Myungho is sharing some story about his and Mia’s neighbor who refused to close their blinds, everyone laughing at Mia’s grimace when she recalled the horrors of the “tighty-whities” incident. Each time you stay with the Jung’s you're shocked how well they get along, everyone slotting together perfectly like some cheesy sitcom family.

It’s not that your family didn’t love each other, but there was little bonding you together other than shared blood and memories. Your mom clearly favored your brother while your dad tried to make up for the snub by prioritizing you. Growing up with the invisible competition left bitter resentment to this day. At least now, after years of therapy and freedom from the suffocating expectations of your childhood home, you and your brother shared a mutual understanding that it was your parents fault for the animosity between you. Nothing could the damage already deeply ingrained, but you’d become a more united front during family affairs.

That’d been the first time you and Wooyoung fought in your tentative relationship. He hadn’t seemed to understand how you could talk about your brother with such vitrole, confused why you weren’t more excited to see him after living in the city permanently since sophomore year. Not that you’d explained your family dynamic prior to calling him in a full blown meltdown in Washington Square Park at midnight. But Wooyoung listened. And when you brought up how perfect his family seemed, he quickly corrected your assumption.

Wooyoung knew his parents loved him and his brothers equally. But they were helping him pay thousands of dollars in tuition out of state for him to be a teacher while his older brother made six figures fresh out of college as an engineer. Even if they were happy for him, Wooyoung struggled with the internal conflict of idolizing his brother and feeling like he’d never measure up.

It’d been the first time Wooyoung cried in front of you.

The tense conversation and awkward small talk of your childhood home didn’t seem to have space here at the Jungs, nothing but laughter and warmth filling each nook and cranny. Even the awkwardness of sitting next to your ex-boyfriend, pretending he was still your partner, seemed to be stifled with the company.

“So, Y/N, when are you planning to move back to New York? You finished residency, right?” Mia asks over her glass of wine, eyes bright.

“Ugh,” you stutter, unprepared for such directness.

“Or maybe you’re thinking of moving to Boston?” She eyes Wooyoung.

“We’re, uh,” Wooyoung pipes up, frantically looking at you.

“I’m looking at jobs in the city but nothings come up yet.”

“That sucks.” Myungho chimes, working to help their father clear the table for games.

Rather than answering, you take a long draw of your drink before rising to hide in the bathroom.

In the silence of the small half bath under the stairs, you attempt to control your stuttering breath. A few splashes of cool water on your face help shock your system but it does nothing to stop the It’d taken years to perfect the stone-faced facade you presented to families when the outcome was less than favorable.

A light tap at the door startles you from the nose dive your conscious has taken.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You call, scrubbing your hands in the sink.

“It’s me,” Wooyoung chirps on the other side of the wood.

Opening the door, Wooyoung leans his shoulder against the jamb, eying you warily. Pulling him into the cramped space, you press the door closed as you lean against.

“I can’t do this, Woo. I can’t lie to them.”

“Don’t think of it as lying! Just pretend you're back in that drama class in college!”

“Oh, you mean the class I almost failed because I couldn’t act?” You whisper harshly.

“Just let me take the lead okay? All you have to do is be normal.”

Another knock on the door startles you both. When you got so close to Wooyoung, you have no idea, but there are only a scant few inches between you and you can smell the peppermint schnapps on his breath.

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

Twisting around your stiff body, Wooyoung nudges you out of the way as he twists the handle and pulls the door inward.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers, opening the door to a concerned Bibi. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Bibi brushes past him, the cool back of her wrinkled hand pressing against your forehead. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed.”

One arm curls around yours, the other gently patting your back as Bibi guides you back towards the kitchen with Wooyoung trailing behind.

“You know, when I was pregnant with Wooyoung’s father I got lightheaded all the time.”

“Oh?”

Bibi’s implication isn’t lost on you, or Wooyoung for that matter when you hear him curse as he trips behind you.

“Almost everyday I’d have to drink a gallon of ginger tea just to get out of bed.” She guides you into a seat before turning. “I’ll make you cup while the boys set everything up, okay?”

“That’s really not neccess–”

But Bibi is already filling the kettle and rummaging in the cabinets for tea bags as if you didn’t speak at all.

Wooyoung

Cursing his grandmother for making an already tense situation worse, Wooyoung shakes his head as she flutters around the kitchen. Perhaps he should be relieved Bibi moved away from asking when they were getting married and fast forwarding straight to asking for grandchildren. At least Wooyoung hadn’t been as close to being the dad as he was as being a husband. Kids were completely hypothetical; but marriage had almost been a reality.

Kyungmin is already setting up the Scrabble board and dishing out letters. Eight people was far too many so like every year they divide into pairs. Mom and Dad, Myungho and Mia, Kyungmin and Bibi, and him and Y/N.

The board begins to crowd with letters. Bibi and Kyungmin struggle to play anything worth more than fifteen points while his parents brush off challenge after challenge as they fill the board with words like “Paczki” and “Rudistid.”

“Quips, baby! Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a Q?” Mia asks everyone, high fiving Myungho next to her.

Wooyoung exchanges a conspiratory smile with Y/N before he ruins their celebration. “I know! And when you have a U and an I and every other letter I need for QUILTING on a double word score. Plus bingo for all the tiles we don’t have…Boom 96 points.”

Arms thrown around each other's shoulders, he bounces up and down with Y/N in victory. Their cheeks squish together, matching bright tipsy grins pulled across their lips. Almost like everything is normal.

“No fair! You’re an English teacher!” Kyungmin protests, nostrils flared.

“Yeah to third graders, Minnie. You know just as many words as they do, I promise.”

Y/N doesn’t move from his hold except to take another swig of the tea his grandmother made her. Wooyoung tries not to think about what it means; having an arm curled around the back of her chair while she settles into the crook of his chest, watching his family over the top of her head, relaxing firm pressure of her body against his own. Taking the tentative peace for granted, Wooyoung greedily overindulges in the illusion of normalcy.

December 23rd

Y/N

In the cool toned light of the snowy dawn, you wake in Wooyoung’s arms once again. This time you're both on your sides, Wooyoung pressed firmly behind you as he snores in your ear. A familiar lump pokes against your rear, scorching your skin through the layers of clothes that serepate you.

Wiggling in his grip, you're ashamed of the quiet moan fleeing your lips as Wooyoung flexes his arms to hold you tighter, his hips rolling against you harshly to pin you to him.

Blame it on the months without feeling another person’s touch, or the liminal space that exists when the world is asleep and void of any real consequences, but a hollowness stings your core and dampens your panties.

Years of dating meant years of exploring one another’s bodies, discovering every spot that drove the other mad and perfecting the balance of teasing and satisfaction. You still remember the first night in your shared apartment years ago; Wooyoung blindfolded and tied to the bed, putty under your fingers as you rode him until your eyes felt permanently crossed and your legs numb. And just when you thought the night was over, sated with his cum leaking onto the sheets, Wooyoung knotted the silk scarf around your own wrist and “cleaned up” the mess between your thighs until you actually blacked out.

The very memory has you arching backwards, clenching around nothing but disappointing emptiness.

It’s wrong. So so so wrong. To fantasize about your ex-boyfriend while he’s asleep next to you, none the wiser to your stuttered breath and pounding heart.

But the way his hand on your stomach fists the fabric of your shirt, pulling you into him again, beckons you closer to the edge of temptation. Wooyoung told you to act natural. What’s more natural than enjoying some half asleep heavy petting? You’re already pretending to date him, why not reap some of the old benefits you’d missed in your time apart?

Just as you turn in Wooyoung’s arms, set on waking him with an offer even he can’t refuse, he yawns awake. Arms stretching high, he pushes you from the toasty covers and onto the floor with a bang!

“Jesus Christ!” You groan, jolting pain in your elbow shocking your system as it catches the edge of the bed frame.

Wooyoung’s head pops over the side of the mattress, “Why’re you down there?”

Scoffing, the back of your head thuds against the floor; eyes sinking shut as you fight the urge to murder him. Three more days and you’ll never have to deal with the ridiculousness that follows Wooyoung like a shadow.

You hear, rather than see, Wooyoung exit into the hallway. Stretching your lungs around another deep breath, you follow behind him. Passing the bathroom door as you pad down stairs, you're greeted with an empty kitchen. The stove clock reads just past nine so more bodies should trickle in soon, called by the coffee you’ve begun brewing. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, you prepare for quality time with Mrs. Jung and Mia. Another day of lying to the people who treat you better than your own family.

Wonderful.

Wooyoung

Like a teenager with his first wet dream, Wooyoung hides in the sanctuary of the bathroom.Thankfully, his brothers aren’t prone to waking before noon and he stakes his claim by locking the door and entering the steam.

Maybe dry humping his ex-girlfriend while half asleep was a bad idea but Wooyoung knows she pushed back into him with a purpose. He’d heard the whimper she tried to silence, felt her press her legs together the way she did when she was wet and needed his help.

Wooyoung hadn’t meant to launch her to the floor but overdue break up sex with the rest of the house due to wake up any minute couldn’t be a good idea. And with three more days of their charade Wooyoung needed less complications, not more.

But the knowledge of how wrong he should feel doesn’t stop the memories of them together from placating his mind as he palms his aching cock. Months of abstinence fail to dissolve Wooyoung’s photorealistic memories of his ex-girlfriend in compromising positions; bent in half to take his cock, staring down her nose as she sits in his lap. And his personal favorite, Y/N on her knees, eyes watering as her swollen lips stretch around his length, the flared head nudging the back of her throat.

The swiftnesses of his orgasm is a fatal blow against his fragile ego. Biting the meat of his fist, Wooyoung watches his cum sink down the drain. Unfortunately, the confusion pulsing through him doesn’t follow.

—

As Wooyoung descends to the living room, he spots his dad and his brothers watching a documentary on the Discovery channel. Sinking into the worn leather of their ancient couch, he cracks open one of the books he brought from home. Brave New World wasn’t light reading, but he’d been meaning to give it a try since Yeosang recommended it to him and what better way to spend his free time?

Soon enough, his dad snores from his spot in the recliner, chin tipped back against the headrest. Kyungmin remains entranced by the colorful birds dancing across the screen while his other brother no doubt taps away at work emails cluttering his phone despite the holidays. It’s the kind of peace and content Wooyoung loved about his family. Co-existing without needing to interact, enjoying each other's presence while living their own lives.

Y/N

The acrid sting of acetone and nail polish burn your nose under the harsh white lights of the nail salon. Mia is happily chattering away, blasting through any stilled pauses or awkward silences. Bibi and Mrs. Jung sit at the counter getting their nails painted by the attendants in calm silence.

You try not to kick the young woman scrub your foot as she brushes against your ticklish nerves, squirming in your seat as she gives a tight lipped smile at your discomfort. For a week off for Christmas you cashed in every favor, picked up every single on call asked of you, nearly breaking under the demand to stretch yourself so thin as the new doctor in your department. The horrific results of hours on your feet were being ground down and clipped before you.

Relaxing was… difficult for you. Or other peoples’ definition of relaxation was. To you, the perfect day off was running around town, hitting an early morning pilates class followed by an overpriced coffee and finding something to do in the city that offered everything. Sitting still was a necessary evil to get to and fro but it left you to stew with your thoughts you preferred to drown in an overwhelming weight of activity.

“Y/N,” Mia calls, bringing you to turn and look at her.

Her usually glowing face is apprehensive, lip worried between her teeth and eyes downcast.

“Yeah?”

“You work with kids, right?”

“All day.” You laugh, trying to break the tension.

Mia hesitates, struggling to find the words she wants to say. “After all the stuff you’ve seen, do you still want them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you and Wooyoung think you’ll have kids someday?”

“I mean not anytime soon considering…”

That we aren’t together. You finish in your mind.

But Mia assumes the unspoke truth is the fact you’re supposed to be living in Boston while Wooyoung is living in New York.

“I mean of course, but like you guys both work with kids and I feel like you know the worst that could happen! My friend Mina just had her baby and she says she can’t sleep. She just sits up all night watching him because she’s afraid somethings gonna happen.”

“Mia, are you and Myungho?”

“Not yet,” she smiles. “But we’ve been talking about it more and I know I want that with him but I’m just—”

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

Hesitating as you weigh your next words carefully, you think about all the conversations you’ve had with worried parents. Most of the kids and parents you met were under less than positive circumstances. Babies with underdeveloped lungs, toddlers who couldn’t breath from just sitting up. You’d be lying if it didn’t make you question having your own. The powerlessness you felt when no matter how hard you worked to fix things it was all for naught.

But all of the bad days don't outweigh the good ones. When NICU preemies got to leave the ward with their families for the first time. Having a child take their first full breath because their medication was finally starting to work. The plethora of thank you cards hanging on your fridge and displayed in your office from the families you’d helped.

And you remember all the stories Wooyoung told you about his classroom. Kids who could barely read falling in love with the books he gave to them, hounding him for more stories. When he made way with a problem child, watching them begin to excel under his gentle guidance. Giggling at Wooyoung hiding his tears at the end of year advancement ceremony when all his third graders became fourth graders every year.

“I think being scared means you care. And you can always call me if you’re worried, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Mia laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great mom.” You whisper, squeezing her arm.

Mia squeezes your hand back, “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“Me too.”

You look away as Mia blinks, breathing away the wetness glossing your own eyes.

—

Upon returning home, you find all four men passed out in various positions in the living room. Mr. Jung in the recliner that predates your birth, mouth wide open and glasses crooked on his nose. Sprawled across the floor is Kyungmin, gangly teenage limbs starfished to the edges of the carpet. Wooyoung and Myungho share a blanket across their laps, both with their backs on opposite sides of the couch.

You four try to contain your laughter at the sight. If there was any doubt about who fathered the Jung boys, the shaggy black hair and symphony of identical snores would easily lay those rumors to rest.

Bibi shuffles down the hall to her room, claiming a nap to be a great idea after the pampering from the nail salon. Mia and Mrs. Jung head into the kitchen, each teething with bulging bags of groceries for tonight's gingerbread competition.

But you can’t take your eyes off Wooyoung. The only time he ever looked so peaceful was when he was sleeping, face positively boyish and missing the stress induced wrinkles from managing a class of eight year olds. The urge to cross to him and kiss the freckle on his lower lip floods your brain but you’re able to stuff it down when he whines in his sleep, twisting to re-adjust on the lumpy couch.

Following the shuffle of plastic bags echoing from the kitchen, you busy yourself with unpacking the boxes of pre-made gingerbread houses, candy, and tubes of icing. Neatly organizing the packages on the counter, Mrs. Jung pushes you and Mia upstairs as she starts to prepare dinner.

The clock on the stove shows it’s closing in on three, giving you enough time to shower and have a nap of your own before the mayhem of the evening.

Cranking the faucet to the highest setting, you waste no time waiting for it to heat as you jump under the cold water. Wooyoung called you a psychopath the first time he witnessed you shower routine but you’d been busy applying for medical school, working in the student health center, and tutoring in the biology lab, all while maintaining a perfect GPA in the fall semester of your senior year; you didn’t have time for the simple pleasures of wasting precious minutes while your apartment’s old pipes struggled to carry hot water through the faucet. And as they say, old habits die hard.

The chill brings sharp clarity with it. It’d only been two days and you’d already fallen into the same bickering as before, been tempted to kiss him when no one was around to fool, and nearly fucked him in his childhood bed.

Three more days. You think, shivering lessening as steam billows around you.

Then you can leave this entire maddening ordeal behind you forever.

Wooyoung

The squeeze of Wooyoung’s heart threatens to topple him to his knees at the sight of Y/N curled up in his bed. His old college hoodie circles her face, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed at whatever dream world she’s lost in.

Wooyoung aches to wake her up with innocent kisses as he holds her to his chest, fingers ironing out the wrinkles of her forehead as she breaches the surface of sleep. To smile at her whines of protest of being interrupted from a rare opportunity to rest without worrying about work or some other responsibility.

But what Wooyoung wants, he doesn’t deserve. As bold and indulgent as he might be in front of the prying eyes of his family, he isn’t cruel. Even if it kills him not to touch her like he used to be able to, Wooyoung won’t subject her to the torture of his feelings. It’s the least he can do for pulling Y/N into this sham after ending their relationship without explanation.

“Y/N,” he whispers, fingers prodding her shoulder. “Gotta wake up.”

She responds with a throaty groan, pulling the edge of the blanket over her head to hideaway.

“C’mon it's almost time for dinner.”

“Youngie, it’s cold.” Y/N protests as he tries to lift the covers.

Grinding his teeth against the nickname, Wooyoung continues to pry the quilt from her iron grip.

“I can get Bibi up here.”

Flying into a seated position, she blinks against the overhead light. “I’m up!”

“That’s what I thought.” Wooyoung smirks, crossing to the door. “Let’s go sunshine.”

Y/N mutters empty threats under her breath the entire way to the kitchen, so close she’s cast in his shadow under the threat of Bibi’s wake up methods. Nothing like a woman pushing eighty banging pots over your head to get the blood pumping.

Everyone else already crowds the table, picking apart the trays of snacks as they organize their supplies kits.

Jung family tradition requires everyone, sans Bibi, to decorate their own house according to the year's theme. After an hour, she picks her favorite and the winner has the honor of opening the first present on Christmas morning. Y/N demolished Myungho’s long standing winning streak the first year she entered the competition; Mia taking her place the next year in Y/N’s absence. Since then, Kyungmin reigned supreme despite his creation looking like a haunted house no matter what the theme was.

“Alright,” Bibi stands once Wooyoung and Y/N have taken their seats at the end of the table. “This year's theme is movies. On your mark, get set. Go!”

A room full of adults, plus Kyungmin who's only a few months short, should act with a sense of decorum and dignity. A fair and clean competition in the name of holiday spirit, family, and comradery.

But Jung house rules mean cheating is not only expected, it’s encouraged.

The table is warzone. Icing dripping off the sides and onto the tile floor. Candies trailing everywhere like shrapnel. Mia hides a piece of Myungho’s roof in her lap, and their mom steals the level their dad insists on using every year. Even Kyungmin slowly starts hoarding the bags of colorful royal frosting one by one in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone can notice.

Wooyoung catches Y/N attempting to eat his bag of gumdrops in his periphery. Their half gone by the time he’s noticed but he simply laughs under his breath. What she doesn’t know is that those are her gumdrops and his are stashed under the table since they sat down.

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

Most of the houses are beginning to take shape, albeit much more loose definitions of whatever each person decided to do. Kyungmin’s house is poop green with a red roof, streaks of color patchy against the brown cookie sheets. His mom sticks with the traditional decorations instructed on the packaging, no doubt prepared to argue it somehow fits the theme despite being the same every year. Mia’s is laced garishly with pink and pastels, while Myungho crumbles pieces of his for whatever godforsaken reason.

Wooyoung focuses on decorating his tiny gingerbread man with black slashes and stripes.

“Time!” yells Bibi as she whacks the bottom of a pot with a wooden spoon, everyone drops their last piece of candy before hands fly up.

As always, his mom manages to be the only one to finish due to years of practice. Everyone else’s houses are… interesting.

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

“The Grinch?” Y/N asks, confused by the horrendous green and red abomination.

“See, you get it!”

Shaking her head, Y/N points to her own monstrosity. “Okay, so the yellow skittles are the yellow brick road and the green on the house is meant to look like the Emerald City from Wizard of Oz.”

Perhaps if the Emerald City burned to the ground and became ruins but everyone nods at the vision.

“Mine is supposed to be Barbie's Dream house.” says Mia, gesturing to the mound of pink frosting sliding from the roof.

Myungho slams a toy dinosaur from their childhood on top of his pile of cookie pieces before declaring, “Jurassic Park.”

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes.

A chorus of groans around the table answer.

His dad’s is covered in chocolate bars and marshmallows. It looks decent but Wooyoung doesn’t get it until he tells them it’s “Willy Wonka.”

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his.

“Nightmare Before Christmas.”

The gray and black icing swirl to make a ugly blob, but Wooyoung will argue it’s exactly what he was going for. Especially with his miniscule Jack Skellington perched in the yard.

Bibi circles the table, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each entry. She shakes her head at Kyungmin, clearly disappointed in his failure this year.

“Eunkyung wins!” She cheers, raising his mom’s hand like she won a boxing match.

Claps and whoops fill the kitchen as she beams, proud to win a second time in the history of the competition.

“Wooyoung, put the winning house on the mantel please.” His dad asks, already moving towards the pantry for trash bags.

“Your majesty.” Wooyoung bows in front of his mom, laughing when she slaps his shoulder.

What he fails to realize is Y/N is leaving the same door he is, and that a sprig of green leaves sit just above their heads.

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” Grunts Y/N, confused.

Wooyoung looks up and spots the infuriating piece of decoration, another pair of eyes trailing after his own.

If they were still dating, Wooyoung would swoop her into his arms and make an entire production of giving her a short peck on the cheek, his parents were watching after all, while Y/N laughed at his ridiculousness. But now he hesitates as he looks into her eyes, barely missing the nod as she leaves a brief kiss on his lips before turning and leaving the room.

Even under the brief contact, Wooyoung’s lips feel like they’ve been zapped with lightning; his entire body on high alert. So lost in his own world, Wooyoung doesn’t realize he watches her walk away until she’s turning a corner and is out of sight.

Remembering the gingerbread house still in his hand, Wooyoung continues into the living room to place it front and center on the mantel.

Y/N

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! You think, watching yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth.

You’d spent the rest of the night sweaty and flushed, stuttering like an idiot because of a G-rated kiss with your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud.

What was wrong with you?

It was like the butterflies of the beginning of your relationship were waking from dormancy, demanding to let loose in your chest.

But none of this is real. Wooyoung only reached out so Bibi wouldn’t be upset over a last minute cancellation. He didn’t ask to explain why he ended your relationship so suddenly. Didn’t try to weasel his way back in and kiss everything better. All the touching and joking you’d missed so much were nothing more than an elaborate plan for Wooyoung to not be seen as the bad guy by his family. His way of delaying the inevitable.

And you’d fallen right into the mess subconsciously hoping it might have meant something more.

The foaming residue of toothpaste splashes against the porcelain sink as you finish washing up. Hiding in the bathroom can only buy you so much time before you have to face Wooyoung again, a new feast of tension waiting for you on a silver platter.

His tiny room is notably empty. Wooyoung nowhere to be seen as you burrow into the blankets. Hopefully, he stays away until you're fully unconscious and able to avoid the entire ordeal.

—

A draft of frigid air invading the warm haze under your mountain of quilts wakes you. Wooyoung shushes your indignant protest, pulling the top layers off. His weight doesn’t dip the bed behind you. Instead, you listen as he shuffles around, the dull thud of pillows and blankets hitting the floor. When he quiets, you turn to see him curled into a ball on a makeshift sleeping matt next to the bed.

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Was he that upset about the kiss?

But you don’t ask and Wooyoung doesn’t provide an answer.

December 24th

Wooyoung

Christmas eve is Wooyoung’s favorite part of the holidays. Not even a poor night sleep on the freezing unforgiving floor can dull his excitement.

He’d risen early, sneaky out of the room the second the sun peaked from the horizon and illuminated the space. Y/N slept soundly, back turned away from him as he evaded her successfully.

A fresh powder of snow fell sometime in the night. So with a hot cup of coffee and a need to get lost in something mindlessly physical, Wooyoung heads to the garage for a shovel to clear the sidewalk and driveway.

Wooyoung knows he should apologize to her. She’d basically avoided him after they got caught under the mistletoe, scurrying upstairs the second it was polite for her to do so. Technically, she kissed him. But the entire situation wouldn’t exist if he didn’t put his foot in his mouth.

Plus, the entire ordeal of yesterday morning couldn’t be ignored. And Wooyoung was ashamed he didn’t feel ashamed.

Mind numb in the cold monotony of moving slush from the concrete to the yard, muscles burning at the strain, Wooyoung loses track of time as the sun moves across the sky.

His dad finds him shoveling the end of the driveway, pants soaked and breath heaving.

“You okay, kid?” the older man asks, sipping his thermos.

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

“Wooyoung.” A sharp sternness to his tone as his dad’s gloved hands halt the shovel.

He hates that voice. Wooyoung’s dad was soft spoken and good natured, the quietest member of their boisterous family. Always gentle with three rowdy sons that constantly pushed the endless bounds of his patience. Wooyoung can count on one hand the times his dad used this voice on him. Apparently now is one of those times.

Wooyoung looks his dad in the eye before lying to his face, “I’m fine. Really.”

Eying his son skeptically, Wooyoung’s dad clearly doesn’t believe him.

“Alright.” he drawls. “But come inside, your mom made pancakes.”

Y/N

“Come on Kyungmin, we don’t want to be late!” Bibi calls from the hallway.

In front of you, Kyungmin blanches; terrified of another day surrounded by prodding grandmothers. He looks at you for help, but you offer a sympathetic smile and a shrug of shoulders. If only he knew how much torture you were being subjected to in the name of keeping Bibi happy.

Wooyoung had been scarce since the early hours of the morning, slaving away at clearing the driveway alone. He made a brief appearance at breakfast and lunch but found any excuse to stay faraway from whatever room you planted yourself in.

Taking the hint, you set up camp in the kitchen. Laptop screen reflecting off your blue-light glasses as you skimmed another journal article about forced oscillation technique and impulse oscillometry. Fascinating as it was to you, it’s just boring enough to anyone else to keep them away; allowing you to waste away the entire afternoon in the most productive way possible.

The sun is already setting by the time others begin to trickle into the kitchen. Mia begins filling snack trays for the trademark movie night; half sweet, half savory. While Myungho sets to work on a batch of mulled cider they picked up at the market.

Kyungmin stomps into the kitchen with a fuming Bibi hot on his heels.

“They’re nice girls, Kyungmin. There was no need to be rude!”

Your wide eyes meet Mia's twin expressions of shock. The youngest was a sweet kid; perhaps he had an attitude sometimes, but he was a teenager after all. To hear he’s been out right rude and in front of Bibi no less, comes as a surprise.

“You’re crazy!” Kyungmin yells, arms waving wildly before he flees to his room.

The sudden silence of the kitchen is rattling. No one moves or speaks as Bibi starts organizing random objects and mail on the counter, clearly uncomfortable with her grandson’s outburst.

Slipping from your chair, you turn to follow in the direction you know he’s bound for.

—

Winter in Colorado is brutal enough, but the wind slicing across your cheeks as you teeter out a tiny window onto the roof at the back of the house makes you regret wearing only a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants.

Kyungmin’s lone figure is illuminated in the silver moonlight. A telltale stench fills your nostrils despite the thick smoke evaporating in the wind the second it leaves his mouth. Waddling towards him on your butt, you stop next to him. He passes the glass bowl into your waiting hand without a peep.

You take a long hit before speaking, allowing the tingle of THC to flutter through your veins.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, cradling your knees to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

The thick woods fencing in the backyard bends in the wind. Pine trees shake the fronds like feathers, fluffing up as the wind flutters by. A lone swing, attached to a rickety playground set, swings back and forth. It’s beautiful and eerie. Only your breath and the occasional cough from Kyungmin disturbs the fragile place.

“I can’t wait to go to college.” Kyungmin mutters from under his hood.

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

“No. But I don’t care where I go as long as I’m not here.”

“Was it that bad?”

“She’s crazy! All of them in that fucking church are insane!”

“Wooyoung told me the same thing.” You chuckle.

“They just stare at me. It’s creepy.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

“And Andi just laughs whenever I try to tell her about it.”

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.”

Kyungmin’s tense response tells you Andi isn’t just a friend at all.

“What's she like?”

“She’s nice. She’s in my history class at school.”

“Oh?”

“And she got a scholarship to play soccer in Georgia.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So you like her?”

“I mean, of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

“Kyungmin…”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s so out of my league.” Kyungmin sighs.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart, and she’s athletic, and she’s funny. She wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Okay.” You nod, “Well, when Bibi started pimping you out at church, what did Andi do?”

“She got really mad when I went on a date with one of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“She didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I thought she was just, like, on her period or something.”

Shaking your head, you turn to face the ignorant boy. “Alright, first things first. Never, under any circumstances, assume a girl is mad at you because she’s on her period. Ask your brothers or your dad how that's worked out for them. Second, how would you feel if Andi went on a date with someone?”

Face twisting in disgust, Kyungmin grabs the piece again to take a hit.

“Exactly. Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

Kyungmin snorts at the idea, “Yeah, sure.”

“Party out here?” Myungo calls from the window.

Turning, you spot Wooyoung and Mia peaking around his broad shoulders.

“Yeah but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

“Perfect.” He calls back, folding in half to step on the roof.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungmin promises as he links his pinky with yours.

Mia and Myungho land on Kyungmin’s other side, a joint visible in Mia’s dainty fingers. Wooyoung plops down next to you, lifting the bowl from Kyungmin and dumping the ash on to the roof.

As he focuses on packing it, you get your first glimpse of him all day. The tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, no doubt from the hours he spent outside or in the garage doing who knows what. Wooyoung’s hair is a mess of tangles, sticking this way and that in the wind and you choke on the urge to straighten it for him.

You’ve never been good at staying mad at him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong. And what’s worse is Wooyoung knows it.

Wisps of smoke pour from his nostrils before he passes you the bowl again. Shaking your head, Kyungmin plucks it from his brother’s fingers.

You feel Wooyoung’s breath caress the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“What are you guys doing out here?” He whispers.

“Bibi.” You whisper back.

Wooyoung nods lazily, eyes glazed already. Landing on his back, he looks up to the sky.

The pale light sharpens his features. Strange how all three brothers looked so similar yet different. Kyungmin still had the round cheeks of adolescents, limbs gangly as he towers over his brothers at only seventeen. Myungho was broader than both but only a fraction taller than Wooyoung, square jaw and cropped hair. But Wooyoung was all angles and sharpness. Even from the first night he approached you in that dingy karaoke bar near campus, you knew he was handsome. But now he looks ethereal. Like some beautiful demon coming to take your soul and laugh all the while.

Eventually you all end up shoulder to shoulder, each lost and thought and staring at the lonely full moon above. Wooyoung’s hand brushes your own, sending throbbing jolts of electricity through your body. Hooking your pointer finger around his, Wooyoung sighs next to you before settling.

It somehow hurts worse than if he would have let go.

Wooyoung

Exhaustion and pot nearly knock Wooyoung out as he passes his bedroom door. An early night, lost in the land of dreams where he doesn’t have to think about why he can’t look Y/N in the eye; why he felt a punch in the gut when he spotted her on the roof with his little brother, taking care of him like Kyungmin was her own family; how he wanted to cry when her fingers circled his own.

Wooyoung’s attempt to uncomplicate his life only seemed to tighten the noose around his neck.

Jung family tradition dictates a Christmas movie with gross amounts of sugary snacks on Christmas Eve. The tradition started before Wooyoung could remember but it’d been his favorite all the same. What little kid didn’t cherish the opportunity to wake up to Santa dropping presents under the tree? Not that he or his brothers managed to stay awake more than half way through whatever movie his parents pulled from the dusty DVD collection on the bookshelf. But as he grew older, Wooyoung appreciated the uninterrupted time he was gifted to spend with his family, especially with each of them living in separate corners of the country.

The new set of matching pajamas every year were simply a bonus.

This year’s boast a deep green with a vintage Christmas light pattern. The inner flannel is positively delightful against Wooyoung’s freezing skin, lulling him into a light doze as leans against the couch between Y/N’s spread legs.

Kyungmin sprawls in his usual place on the rug in front of the coffee table, glazed eyes glued to Will Ferell terrorizing New York City in yellow tights. Mia and Myungho are off on the other side of the couch, Bibi taking the middle seat. His parents are snug in his dad’s recliner, resembling two teenagers rather than the fifty year olds they really are. Adorably disgusting how in love they still are.

Resting his cheek against Y/N’s knee, Wooyoung twists his hands in his lap. He can’t touch her. Not sober and absolutely not high out of his mind like he is at this very moment. Because if he starts, Wooyoung is too weak to stop himself. And considering the way she keeps staring at him every time she thinks he isn’t looking, Wooyoung doesn’t think Y/N would want him to stop either.

—

Bedtime is the same awkward dance as before. His entire family pulls each other into tight hugs, mostly aided by the edibles Myungho slipped them before they all descended downstairs. Calls of “Love you,” and “see you in the morning,” land against his back as he trails behind Y/N.

They get ready for bed in the dark, flashes of bare skin visible in the light trickling in from the cracked curtains covering the lonely window. Turning to face the wall, Wooyoung plugs in his phone while he listens for her to land on the mattress.

When the shuffling ceases, he finds her in a nest on the floor, back towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night.”

“You don’t hav–”

“Just go to bed.” She bites, voice fragile.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he huffs, temper rising as he crosses to the other side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.”

“Just take the bed.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sitting up, Wooyoung barely makes out her scowl. “Why do I need to explain everything to you?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

“Considering you’re the one on the floor while the bed is empty, yes you’re the stubborn one.”

“Because I’m fine here!”

Wooyoung wades through the quicksand of his brain for a response. Upon finding none, he flops on the pile of blankets next to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now shut up.”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs.

No more energy to fight, Wooyoung burrows deeper into the mound of quilts; set to sleep next to her on the floor if she continues to refuse the bed. If he was a diva on poor sleep, Y/N was a menace. She’d cave eventually when her hips ached from the painful stiffness of the unbending wood.

Except Wooyoung can’t sleep. All of his nerves are heightened next to her. His entire left side burns in her heat, acutely aware of every shift of her weight or rustle of the blankets. Wooyoung’s lips still burn from their kiss. A childish brush against his mouth but he can’t stop replaying it in his mind over and over. And when he thinks about yesterday morning, when he dreamed about her and then woke up flushed against her, it all makes his blood rush to his head and a weight settles on the back of his tongue.

When Y/N stops twitching beneath the covers behind him, breath even and shallow, Wooyoung finally follows her into sleep.

December 25th

Wooyoung

Christmas morning brings Bibi through the upstairs hallway with a familiar wooden spoon and small tin pot. Wooyoung hears the first crash slide under the crack beneath his door, an ice bath to his system.

He’s still on the floor, a foot between him and Y/N.

“Get up.” Wooyoung shakes her, not wasting a second as he stands to dive into the still made bed.

She groans in the morning light, eyes crusted as she looks for the disturbance.

Another shrill beat sings through the hall. Much closer to Wooyoung’s door than last time.

“Shit!”

Y/N tackles him into the pillows. Both attempting to look natural as the door rebounds against the wall, a well rested Bibi standing in the doorway.

“RISE AND SHINE!” His grandmother wails, drumming a rhythmless beat and she turns to stalk towards Kyungmin’s room at the end of the hall.

Dual sighs of relief leave their lips, Y/N rising to stalk to the bathroom without looking back.

Y/N

Mrs. Jung’s victory grants her the privilege of opening the first present this morning. Everyone gathers around, matching states of messy hair and bed-wraggled pajamas, to shred shiny wrapping paper at ten in the morning.

Her first gift is the large rectangle box addressed from her sons, all of them failing to stifle their matching laughter as she slowly unwraps the picture frame. You and Mia had helped arrange the picture last time everyone was together for Bibi’s birthday, sneaking out of the house with the excuse of seeing a movie when you drove to the mall for an old school photoshoot at the department store.

Wooyoung’s parents join in the giggling bouncing of the walls as they take in all three boys dressed head to toe in denim, arms wrapped around on another’s waists prom-date style as they stare dead faced at the camera. The cherry on top is their matching bowl cuts, making them resemble a nineties boy band. Another frame slips out of the paper, a similar photo of you and Mia except her chin rests on top of your head, eyes obscured by yellow tinted sunglasses.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Jung guffaws. “You all are ridiculous.”

Passing the frames around the room, Mrs. Jung takes turns hugging her sons along with you and Mia.

“Oh, my girls. Thank you for putting up with them.” She whispers into your ears, Mia on her left and you on her right.

You refuse to think about how tomorrow you’ll leave their house for the last time as you squeeze her back tightly.

As the youngest, Kyungmin is charged with passing out rounds of presents while Mr. Jung collects the discarded ribbons and paper. Thankfully, bringing a gift for Wooyoung wasn’t an expectation. Why sacrifice sacred luggage space to exchange gifts with someone who lives in your backyard? Mia and Myungho never brought their gifts for one another, and you and Wooyoung followed suit.

But that didn’t stop you from braving the hoards of the city in an effort to last minute Christmas shopping before flying out. Bibi loves the fancy lotion you brought her, and Kyungmin is more than satisfied with the promise of whatever new video he can afford with a Playstation gift card. Wooyoung’s parents leaf through the books you bought in a last ditch effort to provide some sort of parting gift. Myungho screams as he unwraps the mug with “IBS: I be shitting” blasted across the front and Mia opens each tin of specialty tea for a whiff of the herbal scents.

Hours later, surrounded in the disarray of boxes and bows, Mrs. Jung announces it’s time for brunch. Everyone takes turns washing up or teetering upstairs to brush their teeth but she pulls you aside before you have a chance to follow.

“Y/N, we have one last gift for you.” She whispers, removing a small box from behind her back. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone just in case but I want you to know how much we all love you.”

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

There isn’t a single day I don’t thank the stars for how lucky my son is to find someone as incredible as you. He’s a better person because of you and our family is so blessed to have you in it. I was lucky enough to be given three amazing sons but now I’m fortunate enough to have two daughters as well.

Love, Mrs. Jung”

Each word is a new punch to the gut, tears swelling in the corner of tight eyes. Focusing on opening the box in an effort not to break down in the hallway, you unveil a simple silver chain with a knotted pendant. The same you’ve seen Mia and Mrs. Jung wear on special occasions.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Nope. I won’t hear a word of it! It’s family tradition. Bibi gave me mine, and now I get to give you yours.”

“But I really—”

But Wooyoung’s mom is a force to be reckoned with. Slipping the delicate piece of jewelry out of the box, she slips it around your neck and straightens it before you can stop her. When she’s happy, you fall into her arms in a fierce hug as you weep into her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, patting your back comfortingly; clearly thinking you're overcome with emotion at officially being a part of the family.

You don’t correct her. Why ruin such a heartfelt moment by shattering the illusion now that you're so close to the end? Instead, you take comfort in her embrace, willing the tears to stop with the same principle you use in the hospital: save the crying for the shower.

Stepping out of the hug, you allow her to wipe away the trails of tears marring your cheeks with soft swipes of her thumbs, a soft smile at her tutting over you. Mrs. Jung pulls you into one last bear hug before pushing you upstairs to compose yourself.

Wooyoung stares as you pass him on the stairs, evidently alarmed at the evidence of your crying. But you keep your eyes down as you trudge by.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung can’t help but worry at what happened between presents and breakfast to make Y/N so upset but his mom keeps squeezing her shoulder and Bibi just smiles knowingly in her direction. The new necklace circling her neck is familiar but Wooyoung can’t place why and he hasn’t had the opportunity to ask.

Crowding into the living room as the sun sets, he doesn’t miss the way Mia intertwines Y/N into a fierce squeeze, practically bouncing off the walls with giddiness. He doesn’t have time to ask what it’s about before another movie is starting on the TV to wind down for the evening.

He can feel the tension rolling off her in waves next to him. Muscles locked and leg jittering the same way it did before she had to take her MCAT or open exam results. When the screen fades to black, Y/N is up the stairs and out of sit before he can blink.

Following her up, Wooyoung finds her perched on the edge of his bed, fingers stroking the pendant resting between her collarbones. Shut in the quiet of his room, Wooyoung asks the question that’s buzzed in his veins all day.

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

“I thought so.” He nods. “But why was everyone acting weird about it?”

Rather than answer, Y/N hands him a note. Wooyoung recognizes the tight cursive of his mom’s handwriting. Regret trickles down his spine and bubbles over with each word. He’d never meant to be cruel when he asked Y/N to come here but then again he didn’t think about how hard this must have been for her. To secretly say goodbye to his family and their relationship after she was already working through it on her own. He should have known she was bottling it all up, the same way he was prone to.

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

“Why did you break up with me?” She asks, still staring at the floor.

Regret transforms into the shame that’s eaten him alive for months. Wooyoung’s mouth won’t form the truth for what he did so he lies.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” She bites, glazed eyes blazing as she rounds on him. “Eight years. We dated for eight years and you think you can tell me you don’t know why?”

“We dated for eight years and you didn’t even say anything when I did it! You just left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”

“You just gave up.”

“No, you gave up!” her voice cracks, finger pointing accusingly. “I didn’t even know we were having problems.”

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

Wooyoung recoils from the invisible smack against his face. Is that what she was planning to tell him when he interrupted her?

“What?”

“That night I was trying to tell you I got a job in the city. That I was moving back.”

“You’re joking.”

Shoulder sagging under the weight of their mess, Y/N falls back onto the bed.“It was gonna be my last weekend trip down.”

Sniffles and desperate breaths fill the space. And Wooyoung gathers the courage to tell her the truth.

“I was planning to propose.” He can see her head turn in his peripheral, but he’ll lose the gaul if he sees her face so Wooyoung stares at the wall ahead as he speaks. “I had the ring for a year. And I was gonna ask you but I…” he trails off.

“You what?”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything. I thought of how much we’d have to change, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give anything up to be with me.”

“Wooyoung, I never felt like that.” She objects, shaking her head. “I hated Boston. Do you think I was moving back to the city for you?”

“Kind of, I—”

“I have my own life there. I lived there for seven years! I was always planning to move back.”

“Then why were you being so secretive about it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew you’d been stressed and I ddin’t want to add something else to your plate and… because I was worried if I brought it up too soon something would go wrong.”

“I still have it by the way.”

“What?”

“The ring.”

“Why?”

“I think some part of me feels like if I let it go then it’s really over.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get back together?”

“I didn’t want to break up to begin with.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“Because I’m not good enough for you! I’ve never been good enough and I know you say it's not true but it is. I’m a public school teacher with shit pay and an apartment I can barely afford. That’s all I can offer you and it isn’t close enough to what you deserve.”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” Y/N fumes, clearly not understanding what Wooyoung meant. “Why do you think you get to decide what's good enough for me?”

“Because someone has too! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you can have anyone you want.”

“Not anyone.”

Y/N

The suffocating atmosphere of Wooyoung’s room pushes you into the chilly shower stall. In the stifling steam and perfumed bubbles, you quietly let all the emotions of the day run wild; eyes puffy, face swollen, and snot dripping from your nose to be washed away by the boiling streams of water. You hide for as long as possible, shivering as the heated water runs out and frigid ropes blast your skin. Unable to endure anymore of the stinging icicles, you exit the stall red nosed and blue lipped.

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed with his back to the door. You watch his shoulder tense, rising closer to his ears as you pad closer to lay down.

You’re too tired to sleep on the floor, too exhausted to fight with him again. So you curl under the covers, body sliding back when Wooyoung joins you.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, tracing his index finger along the knobs of your spine, attempting to comfort you the same way he always had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

You both stay there in the silent darkness, their breaths and the hum of the heater keeping absolute stillness at bay. The tears you split in the shower followed you to the pillow, running down your cheeks as you try to keep the worst at bay. Wooyoung doesn’t stop tracing shapes between your shoulder blades, the worn cotton of your sleep shirt rubbing against your heated skin. How is the source of your distress the same as the source of your comfort?

Turning to face him, you realize how close he’s moved. Scant inches separate your chests, the heat of his legs licking your own bare ones under the blankets. You spot his own tears, eyes swollen and red, thick lashes clumped together as they fall.

If your love for Wooyoung was an ocean, you’d be lost at sea for years.

He watches you watch him, hands finding one anothers and tangling together. When Wooyoung opens his mouth, pausing as a sniffle breaks free, you surge up to connect your lips.

Startling for only a second, he eagerly kisses you back. Tears and spit gloss your lips as you dip your tongue into his mouth, licking against his teeth before retreating to bruise his lower lip with your own. Wooyoung manages to roll on top of you, pinning you to the mattress as if you plan to up and leave at any second. You respond by crushing your lips together a fraction harder, attempting to communicate the longing and hurt words can’t convey.

The hem of his shirt finds its way between your fingers, moving further up his stomach with each insistent tug. Wooyoung’s own hands busy themselves, one buried in the hairs at the base of your scalp, cradling your head to move you this way and that as he continues exploring your mouth. The other wrinkles the pillow case beside you, muscles rippling as he holds himself over you.

When you wiggle your hips, thighs spreading to cradle him between, he dives to your neck. Blood rushes to the surface as he nips and bruises the delicate skin below your jaw, scorching pants raising goosebumps in its wake. He shudders when your nails scratch down his abdomen, thumb dipping under the band of his pajama pants.

It's been nearly eight months without this. Two months before your breakup, in this very bed while the rest of the house was asleep as Wooyoung laughed into your neck while you drunkenly whined for him to touch you.

As familiar as those memories are, this time is entirely new.

Wooyoung’s thumb, knowing and skilled, brushes across one of your nipples over your shirt, using the rough fabric to his advantage; stiffing it to a tight peak before allowing the weight to settle in his palm. Arching your back, you remove the piece of cloth separating you. Wooyoung barely allows you space to slough it over your head before he’s back on you, latching to the side of your neglected breast as he curls his hips into yours coursley. Your body reacts on nothing but instinct; back arching closer, thighs spreading wider as his knees carry him further down the mattress.

Reverent caresses of his hands lead him to the apex of your thighs, his breath fanning the damp patch of your shorts just before Wooyoung tucks his thumbs into the elastic to nudge them down, breathing deeply as he bares you for his eyes.

A tentative lick up length of your slit pulls a pathetic whimper from the back of your mouth. The flat of his tongue lave against your engorged clit, slow and torturous as Wooyoung indulges in your taste. Rough palms slide beneath the meat of your thighs, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders. A harsh suck against the bundle of nerves locks your muscles tightly around Wooyoung’s head but he takes it in stride as he drops a hand to slip his fingers inside your clenching hole. Curling the pads of his digits upwards, you feel him in your throat as you bite back moans. Your fingers twist in Wooyoung’s inky hair at the delicious torture, hips rocking into his eager mouth as he pants against you; refusing to separate from your drenched center.

When his unoccupied hand slips into your own, a death grip on your entertwined fingers, you fall apart. Your chapped lips nearly bleed from effort to remain quiet, writhing in Wooyoung’s hold as he continues to lap up everything you offer him.

A final suck against your clit has you scrambling to pull his mouth to your own, tasting yourself on his soaked cheeks and tongue.

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

Wooyoung responds by kissing you gently, the passion curling your toes while he fists his length before allowing the flared head to nudge your entrance.

Finally presses forward, fitting inside you as he always has, another tear burns down to your face. It all comes rushing forward, never ending waves rolling over you after you’ve been knocked down into the surf. Memories, good and bad, race through you at a breakneck speed. The tingling elation of the night Wooyoung asked you to be his girlfriend, the nerves of when you asked him to move in together during medical school. Sadness when you moved away for residency with the promise to come back. The numbing despair you felt the night you thought would be a turning point in your lives. The straw that breaks the camel's back is Wooyoung's admission that you’re too good for him. Choking your own pain down, you try to hone in on a spot on the ceiling in an effort to stay grounded.

Several seconds pass before Wooyoung notices the fresh bout of sobs, mistaking choked whimpers as whines of pleasure after such a long time apart. His nose traces the tendon of your neck as he cants his hips slowly, one hand still tangled in yours, the other pressing your knee up and around his waist to stretch deeper. When the dig of your nails into his shoulder turns from a sting to a cut, he leans back and realizes his mistake.

Eyes find one another through the distorted haze your sorrows create, his rounded with concern still glazed with evidence of his own tears. Staring at one another in a silence broken by sniffling and staccato breaths, a second set of tears mix with your own as he rests his forehead against yours. Locking your arms around Wooyoung’s broad shoulders and hooking your knees around his back, you try to seal him into your skin.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, voice broken and cracked. “I’m so sorry. I–” he hiccups. “I didn’t–”

What he’s apologizing for is a mystery. Forcing you into this charade? Telling you he was planning to propose? Breaking up with you in the first place?

Perhaps it's all those things. Maybe it's none of them.

“I love you.” He whimpers into your hair, lips branding the words into your skin.

It’s not enough. But for tonight, you’ll let it be.

“I love you, too.” you whisper back, straining to brush the tip of your nose against his own.

Tomorrow, you’ll fly back to the city and hide in your apartment and pretend to be okay. Dive so far into your work that you forget the way Wooyoung has ripped the healing wound on your heart open again.

Tonight, you’ll pretend the missing piece has finally been found and can stay forever.

Tensing your thighs, your locked ankles nudge at the dip of his spine to remind Wooyoung he’s still inside you. He hesitates for a moment but your lips silence his objections, just as eager to indulge in the fantasy as you are.

The pace is bruising, stomachs firmly pressed together as he reaches for the top of the bed frame to provide more leverage. Wooyoung’s back ripples and flexes as he pounds into you, the vibration of his weak moans tickling the sensitive pads of your fingers as they etch down his ribs.

Consumed by an overwhelming need to touch him everywhere, you cradle his face between your palms. Wooyoung flashes his eyes open, as if startled you’re still there, before leaning into one of them. Thumb tracing his lips, he drops a searing kiss to the crease of your knuckle. The tenderness burns the remaining oxygen out of the room.

His next word is so quiet your ears fail to detect them over the slap of your bodies connecting or the squeak of the old bed frame. But Wooyoung’s said them against your skin enough times over the years for you to know the feel of his mouth forming around the sound.

You come with a muted whimper. So worn from tears, pleasure fizzles in your veins like the gentle ripple of the wind through the trees. Clenching around Wooyoung harshly, the tell tale hitch in his breath signals the beginning of his end.

But he is truly done for when you lean up and whisper his words back into his ear, “forever.”

December 26th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes to an empty bed, cold sheets, and the pillowcase squishing his cheek already damp from the tears he shed while sleeping.

December 29th

Wooyoung

A tedious drive to the airport grants Wooyoung ample time to stew in discontent, replaying the events of the past week over and over in his head.

Was he insane to think Y/N wanted him too? All the moments he nearly forgot they’re barely more than strangers after months of silence, how they still fit together so perfectly. Wooyoung knew he’d been a mess after the break up but the past week made him realize how lost he felt without her. Like the ocean without the moon to guide the tide; like he was missing half his heart. How many times had he opened his messages to text her something mundane from his day, just to close them and realize he’d ruined the best thing in his life in a second of weakness? And now having her next to him again, knowing he can’t fix what he did?

“When were you planning to tell us you two broke up?”

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung, I know.”

“How… she told you?”

“Poor thing was crying the entire way to the airport. I told her I wouldn’t let her fly by herself if she was that upset until she explained.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you two broke up a few months ago but you didn’t want to disappoint us.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“You know Y/N, always keeps her cards close to her chest.” His mom looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I made a mistake.”

“If you two weren’t happy then it wasn’t a mistake.”

“But we were happy! She’s the one and I messed it up because I’m not good enough for her.”

“Where is that coming from?”

“I know you and dad wanted me to be an engineer like Myungho, okay? Even Kyungmin wants to be a lawyer! I’m the family disappointment. It only makes sense I’d disappoint Y/N too.”

Wooyoung’s mom is notorious for going under the speed limit, waiting to turn even if the oncoming car is five hundred feet away, and using her blinker religiously. Which is why Wooyoung thinks she’s having a seizure when she veers off the road and onto the shoulder like an F1 driver.

“You are not a disappointment! To me or your father or anyone. You are my son, and I have always been proud of that. I’ve seen you teaching, the way those kids look up to you. You’re doing exactly what you were meant to. And if my worrying has made you feel that way then I am so sorry. I’ll we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy sweetie.”

Crossing his arms, Wooyoung flicks away the beads of moisture tracing down his chin. “You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“Well I’m not Y/N’s mom but I talk about her the same way.”

“Yeah well she’s a doctor, saving kids lives and all that.”

“You don’t think you do the same thing? Those kids come to school excited to learn because of you. Just because you’re not finding a cure for cancer doesn’t mean your job isn’t important. And Y/N isn’t disappointed with you either. She loves you, Wooyoung. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s too late for that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“Maybe you should ask her if she thinks so.”

December 30th

Wooyoung

Rather than give into his impatience, Wooyoung stews on his mom’s advice. And each passing hour conveniences him more and more she’s wrong. Especially when San and Yeosang sit with him in their cramped living room, bottles of beer and empty takeout littering the coffee table.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung responds.

San, red faced and tipsy, slaps the leather armrests of the chair before rising.“Fuck you! You broke up with her over nothing and instead of trying to get her back you have a fucking pity party? Grow a pair.”

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?”

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot.” Yeosang butts in.

Wooyoung knows his hesitation speaks for itself when Yoesang keeps talking.

“You can ask her to pretend you’re still dating but you can’t tell her you wanna get back together?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is!” San argues. “You love her right? You care about her?” San doesn’t continue until Wooyoung nods. “Then she has a right to know.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no. Cross that bridge when you get there. You’re already broken up, how much worse can it get?”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung agrees. He sits forward, looking at his roommates before asking.“So what do I do?”

December 31st

Wooyoung

When Wooyoung’s messages go unanswered and his calls fall into the abyss of Y/N’s full voicemail box, pulls out Plan B.

Unfortunately, Plan B has no moral or ethical oppositions to castrating him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Lisa, please!” Wooyoung begs into the phone.

“No! Not once but twice I’ve had Y/N crying on my couch because of your dumbass. I’m not letting it happen again!”

“I need to talk to her. Please just help me!”

“What makes this time so different?”

“I—,” Wooyoung freezes. What does make this time different?

He hears Lisa sigh on the other end of the phone, almost as if she’s disappointed. “Just leave her alone, Wooyoung.”

And the line clicks dead.

Walking back into the kitchen from the worst call of his life, Wooyoung spots San’s downcast face while Yeosang watches him from the table; both clearly overhearing his exchange with Y/N’s best friend.

The vinyl table top shakes as Wooyoung drops his forehead down with a bang, groaning in frustration.

“She’s working at NewYork-Presbyterian.” Yeosang mentions, returning to munch on his bowl of cereal.

“What?”

“Y/N works at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Yeosang takes another bite and swallows before explaining. “She told me she got a job there when she was planning to move back.”

Wooyoung has Yeosang’s shirt in his hands in a flash, nose to nose with his lifelong friend. Never in his life has Wooyoung been so furious with the man before him.

“You knew this whole time?” He bites, his eyes so wide with anger the whites show.

San is at Wooyoung's back, winding his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him off their other roommate.

“You knew all of this and you didn’t fucking tell me? You’re my friend!” Attempting to shake him off, Wooyoung keeps pressing forward.

Yeosang rises to his feet, hands wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrists and squeezing till the pain forces him to let go. “Yeah, and you’re acting like a real asshole right now!”

“Guys calm down!” San yells, managing to pull Wooyoung back now that he’s no longer attached to Yeosang’s shirt.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“You ended an eight year relationship out of the blue, I wasn’t about to let you get back with her just because you decided being single wasn’t your thing anymore.”

The words slap Wooyoung in the face. Even his own friend’s don’t trust him not to hurt Y/N anymore. “I’m not— I wouldn’t,”

“Come on, Woo. All you could talk about was how excited you were to ask her to marry you and then you come home and tell us you broke up with her. She’s my friend too and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you were desperate enough to call Lisa. If you fuck up again she’ll actually kill you.”

Wooyoung isn’t going to mess up again, not if he can help it. And if he does, he’ll walk straight into the river before Lisa can force him.

But for now, he focuses on getting Y/N to listen to his apology.

January 1st

Y/N

Chief complaint: Father reports patient’s fever and cough have become more severe since previous visit. Reports child is refusing solids but drinking well and taking soft foods such as apple sauce. Sleeping okay.

One of the residents pops her head into your office, “Dr. Y/L/N you have a delivery at the reception desk.”

“Thank you!” You call, not missing a beat as you continue your notes.

Impression: Upper respiratory infection, right otitis media

Plan: Amoxicillin prescribed, five day follow up with p.r.n. at PCP.

Finishing your chart, you rise and head out towards the receptionist desk. A familiar bouquet of blush pink tulips greet you, a silk white ribbon knotted around the dip of the crystal vase. A small envelope is tucked into the spread, sending a terrified jolt through your system.

“I wish I had someone send me flowers as pretty as this!” Jessica sighs, eying the arrangement enviously.

“Yeah,” you laugh, unable to muster an ounce of false humor.

You snatch the bouquet before turning back the direction you came.

Once back into the safety of your office, door shut and blinds drawn, you open the note.

If you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll let you go. But I can't say enough how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt that I was home. I’ll be waiting at our spot on Saturday. As long as it takes.

–W

You don’t realize you’re crying until the ink of the note begins to bleed.

January 3rd

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the first customer to enter the cozy coffee shop overlooking the southeast entrance of Tompkins Square Park at nine a.m., claiming the tiny wobbly table off in the corner that provides the perfect view of the door. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It feels wrong to scroll through his phone as he waits so he snags one of the artsy newspapers sitting on the counter while the surly barista prepares his order.

After an hour, adrenalin maintains the pleasant buzz through Wooyoung’s system, fueled further by espresso on an empty stomach. Each chime of the bell over the door results in awkward eye contact with a stranger that certainly isn’t his ex-girlfriend.

After three hours, his butt is numb and Wooyoung’s abandoned the newspaper he’s memorized. The NYT mini crossword archive isn’t as extensive as he thought.

After six hours, he’s had enough coffee to power a jet plane and his leg jitters aggressively. He’s started people watching through the window, making up stories for passersby entering the park and crossing the street. Half his heart hopes they’re happier than he is, the other half hopes he’s not alone in his misery.

When he’s been at the shop for eleven and a half hours, burned through every source of distraction possible and can describe in vivid detail the features outside the glass wall that separate the inside of the cafe from the sidewalk, Wooyoung accepts that she isn’t coming.

He stays till close, every minute that ticks on a drop in the bucket of regret in his heart. The barista starts stacking chairs, passive aggressively swiping the frayed broom in a ring around his table, so Wooyoung does the sensible thing and waits outside.

The bitter wind wafting through the city finds home in his bones despite his thermals and padded parka. Wooyoung desperately clings to the tiny drop of hope still clinging to his heart. Shaking from the chill and overindulgence in caffeine Wooyoung watches as the clock hits nine.

She isn’t coming.

She doesn’t want him back.

Wooyoung watches a couple laugh in each other's embrace across the street, clambering over one another in amused content. There was time that would have been him and Y/N, high from the intoxicating joy of one another’s presence and the city lights in the winter. Fingers interlocked as they trapeze through crowds, ignoring every other soul in favor of focusing on each other.

Eyes stinging, he turns to head for the train station but nearly shouts as spots the woman in question ten paces away.

Her hair is a mess, nose and cheeks blushing from the cold, breath obscuring her face as it fogs in the cool air. But she’s here, looking every bit unsure as he feels.

“Hi.” He says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

Wooyoung might faint. His heart is beating a mile a minute, breath shallow and labored. She’s here. She’s here and she’s looking at him like that. And the fear creeps into his pause.

“I’m sorry.” He warbles.

“I know.”

But she can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Because he can’t think of anything else. Nine hours of going over the grand speech about how he missed her and how breaking up with her was the greatest regret of his life flies out the window now that she’s in front of him and willing to listen.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

The only thing she’s ever asked him for is the truth. Wooyoung’s been so afraid that if he tells her how he truly feels, she’ll think less of him. That being so in love it terrifies you is disgusting, pathetic.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

“Because if you came I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

“Because—,” she pauses, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Really?” She smiles apprehensively.

“Yeah, but now that you’re here I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

Laughing at his outburst, she nods at him. “That’s a start.”

And the space between them grows a little warmer.

“That night at dinner, when I went to the bathroom, I got an email.” Wooyoung starts, stepping closer. “I’d applied for a grad school program and I thought I was gonna get in but … I didn’t. And I think that and the nerves from proposing just caught up to me. I thought you’d want to stay in Boston after all and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to move back here. And it snowballed and all those feelings of not being good enough came back and— When you didn’t say anything, didn’t ask why or try to argue with me I thought it meant it’s what you wanted too.”

Shame flushes through him, a tsunami of disgust for allowing himself to think so poorly of her. Y/N never made him feel less than. The only person in their relationship who thought he wasn’t good enough for her was him and he let that destroy everything in a second of self doubt.

“I tried to convince myself I did you a favor. That you’d be better off without me and you’d meet someone better. Find someone good enough for you. But I was wrong. I am wrong. There hasn't been a single day since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I try not to, you’re always in the back of my mind. And then I think about how selfish I am for wanting you back. But when it comes to you I’ve always been a little selfish because I love you. And—” he breaths for the first time. “And I don’t know how to be me without you.”

The humor is gone from Y/N’s face. Her beautiful eyes brim with tears, rimmed red not unlike his own; chin shaking. The wind is louder than ever now, cars wheel sloshing across the wet pavement crashing between them.

“Please say something.”

“How do I trust you again?” Her voice cracks, and it knocks the air from Wooyoung’s lungs.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung looks at the ground, guilt-ridden.

Everything, all of the pain and heartbreak, was his fault. He dug them into this mess and now he doesn’t know how to get them out.

Y/N

Seeing Wooyoung, the man with an answer for everything, admit for once he doesn’t have an elaborate plan in motion to win you back is refreshing. You didn’t want Wooyoung who’d fix everything, Wooyoung who’d carry the burden of your relationship by himself even if it killed him. All you wanted was for him to tell you the truth.

And now that he has, you’re done being apart.

Nearly topping to the ground as you tackle Wooyoung in a fierce hug, you focus on inhaling his cologne and basking in the feel of his body pressed firmly against you. He barely manages to steady your combined weight, feet scrambling to regain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to me again!” You yell, arms squeezing around his waist.

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, clearly shocked at the turn of events. Rising out of his chest, you look at his gaping mouth and furrowed brows before his arms knot around your shoulders.

“I missed you.” You whisper into the delicate kiss you land on his lips.

“I love you.” Wooyoung whispers back, forehead resting against your own.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Four months later

Central Park in May is a bustle of people enjoying warm days following months of slushy snow and gray skies. Shrill screams bounce off the trees as children dart across the walkways, giggling groups of friends crowd around blankets on the greening grass, and a menagerie of dogs zigzag around their owners in the fresh air.

Today is a rare day where they both can spend interrupted hours lounging in one another’s presence, eager to make up for years of long distances and the months neither likes to talk about. Wooyoung woke Y/N with innumerable kisses across any sliver of skin his lips could find, basking in the knowledge today he’d finally ask the question hanging from the tip of his tongue since this time last year.

Sprawled across an old throw blanket, skin warming in the afternoon sunshine, a thick book obscures her face from view as Y/N rests her head in his lap. Wooyoung tries not to check his pocket for the millionth time this afternoon, ensuring the little velvet box is still there. He isn’t worried she’ll say no. But the phantom fear from the last time he planned to ask creeps up no matter how many affirmations he silently repeats in his head. But when she looks up at him, crinkled eyes visible just above the edge of the book pages hiding her smile, Wooyoung forgets all his worries.

Plucking the book from her grasp, he carefully marks her place before setting it down beside her hip. Wooyoung folds in half to silence her protesting “hey!” with a kiss, humming when she gives in all too easily.

“I was reading that.” She mumbles as they separate.

“Wow, you’d rather read some smutty book than kiss your real life boyfriend?”

Laughing, she presses another peck to his mouth before answering.“Glad you understand.”

“What about your fiance?”

Y/N smile melts into shock, mouth gaping and staring at him like a deer in headlights.

Wooyoung smoothly maneuvers her up and out of his lap, pulling the jewelry box from his pocket as he kneels on a lone knee.

“Y/N. You’re my favorite person in the world. The only person I can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. I love when you sing in the shower, and how you put way too much sugar in your coffee. I love how smart you are, and how you’re nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it, me included. And how everytime I look at you my palms get sweaty and that just thinking about you makes my day better. You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so violently he fumbles the velvet box twice during his speech. He drops it a third time when Y/N tackles him in a fierce hug, tear filled laughter spilling from their lips and into the field where they lay.

“Yes!” She squeals into his neck, “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

At dinner with all their friends, he subconsciously holds Y/N’s hand so the diamond glints at anyone looking. When Wooyoung walks home, giggly from champagne and love, he kisses her knuckles a ridiculous amount of times just to feel the cool band under his lips. Once inside the doorway of her apartment, Wooyoung crowds Y/N against the door; his thumb focusing on the bevel of the diamond sitting on her ring finger as his other hand pushes the strap of her sundress off her shoulder so his tongue etch her collarbone from dip of her throat where the locket he gave her for their first Christmas together rests to under her ear.

“So, future Mrs. Jung, now that we’re alone, how would you like to celebrate?” He asks, nipping against the sensitive skin she sighs, chest arching into his own.

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

“Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” Wooyoung asks, a strong thigh moving between her parted legs.

“Yeah, future Mr.Y/L/N. I don’t think there’s anything else to discuss right n—fuck, Youngie.”

Wooyoun can’t help but giggle at her reaction, rocking again just to hear her moan his name once more.

“What were you saying?”

“Don’t,” she huffs, whimpering at another torturous drag. Wooyoung can feel the heat of her cunt through her panties and his jeans. “Don’t be mean to your future wife.”

“Love when you talk dirty.” He bites, teeth raking against the strained muscle raising from the side of her neck.

“That turns you on? Calling me your wife?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“And if I call you my husband?”

Wooyoung doesn’t dignify her question with an answer other than sprinting to the bedroom to demonstrate just how much he likes the new name.

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #ateez fluff #🫡 highvern

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kairoot · 2 months

Text

⌞ 𝐍𝐎𝟏𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⌝ ★ KHJ.

SUMMARY. young rockstar Kim Hongjoong is absolutely infatuated with you, a global star and known singer. he seems like a player to the public eye but no one knows him personally. well, he doesn’t stick around for people to get to know him.. he makes multiple attempts at stealing your heart but you just won’t budge. you thought it would be easy to open up again but your past slowly catches up to you with an unloving father and one crazy ex.

PAIRING. rockstar!hongjoong x singer!fem!reader

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of depression, overworked, more tba.

GENRE. smau series, written parts, strangers to lovers, angst, romance, comedy

FEAT. seonghwa (ateez), san (ateez), wooyoung & yunho (ateez), jennie (blackpink), minnie (g-idle), nae ( @dioll ) , minghao (svt), jaehyun (nct), extra ocs.

STATUS. ongoing

SCHEDULE. every sunday, 10pm est

MILAN’S NOTE. hi all!! this is my newest smau that I’ve waited YEARSSSSSS to publish this cause it’s been in my mind for so long 😭😭 i recently started planning for it and i really hope you guys enjoy it. my goal is to actually finish this story cause i never finish them… and another goal i have is to actually get every chapter uploaded on time because im a HUUUUGE procrastinator and i lose motivation easily sometimes so please bare with me if I don’t get it posted on time. also a huge thanks to nae @dioll for giving me suggestions/advice for this story and being apart of it!!!! i love u so much and I mean that 🥹💗

★ Y/N’S DISCOGRAPHY

☆ SERIES SOUNDTRACK

| the maneaters | the outlaws |

PLAYLIST ▶︎

— track 001: close enough, drop the album

— track 002: balmain princess

— track 003:

— track 004:

— track 005:

— track 006:

— track 007:

— track 008:

— track 009:

— track 010:

— track 011:

— track 012:

— track 013:

— track 014:

— track 015:

CHAPTER NAMES SUBJECT TO CHANGE.

[ 🧾 ] TAGLIST : @dioll @minihong99 @dollschan @asherthehimbo @kur0kki @elysianiki @ninahorikoshifr — send an ask to be added !

[📺] NETWORK : @k-films

#⌞ 𝐍𝐎𝟏𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⌝ ★ kairoot #kairoot #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x female reader #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #ateez smau #hongjoong smau #smau #kpop smau

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hwaslayer · 3 months

Text

love you in slow motion (psh) | five.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 9k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, implied sexual content, lots of overthinking, crying, mentions of death and death anniversary, friends & family being like ?? 😭, flashbacks, mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex — sorry if i missed anything & if it’s all over the place! i tried to edit as much as i can while im away!! but enjoy & ty for being patient with me 🫶🏼 if you need something different, here is part one of yeosang’s fic!

Seonghwa doesn't remember when exactly he fell in love with you.

It might've been when you watched all of his football games growing up.

It might've been when you beat up that one kid because he wouldn't stop bothering Hwa for the answers to the homework and called him out of his name unnecessarily.

It might've been when you'd come to his house and sneak through the back door just so you could lie down on his bedroom floor and listen to new music together until you fell asleep.

It might've been when you first got your license and drove him to the hospital and stayed by his side when his fever didn't go down.

It might've been the trip to Hanoi with his family.

Or, it might've been when you sat with him during his first day in 3rd grade at your school, even though he was a child and didn't really know what love meant. He was surrounded by it, and so he was familiar with it. You gave him the same vibes. It must've been, right?

Of course, he had been in relationships. Those relationships did make him feel like maybe, those feelings for you were a fleeting moment; something that would pass, especially since things hadn't changed between you two. He wasn't gonna force it. He might've believed at some point that it was probably all a lie, that he wasn't meant to be with you in the end.

An idea that was way too good to be true.

But, then those relationships would end and he'd be back to square one. And he'd sit there and reflect on everything, revisiting the idea if he was saved for someone else [you]. Truth be told, he did love his exes. They'll always have a special place in his heart. But along their journey, he always felt like this wasn't his end goal— that this instead was the fleeting moment, that particular something that would pass.

In the end, it was always gonna be you.

"So, what happened with Makayla?" Wooyoung asks as he cleans his table and starts unpacking some new supplies that had just been delivered.

"Nothing." Seonghwa shrugs. "Y/N came that morning, ran off, then Makayla kinda knew. I feel so fucked up about it cause she's so nice and understanding."

♡ FLASHBACK

Seonghwa smiles when Makayla steps into his car, her sweet perfume immediately filling the air. Earlier in the week, he had asked Makayla if she wanted to go to a casual dinner and she instantly replied saying she'd love to. It put a smile on Seonghwa's face, which felt nice after the gloomy and upsetting days he'd been having.

He takes her to a casual ramen restaurant in town; it's small, cozy and intimate. They sit at the bar next to each other, taking the time to get to know each other over some hot, comforting bowls of ramen. He finds that Makayla enjoys a lot of similar things; she's outgoing, likes to go on adventures and explore new places, try new foods, would always be down to try something thrilling like skydiving or zip-lining in a tropical place.

Shit like that.

Seonghwa isn't as adventurous but he'd be down, and he likes that about her. On top of that, she's really sweet and laid back. Seonghwa doesn't feel like he has to try and paint this certain image to impress her. He doesn't; he can be himself for the most part, despite the fact that he's still having to try and keep it cool since it's the first time they're hanging out. Even when they finish their ramen, they sit there for another 30 minutes or so just chatting it up— learning more about likes and dislikes, past relationships, you, even.

"Yeah, so there's me, San, Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Y/N. I met San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong in college, and Y/N—" He pauses a bit as he twirls the straw in his cup. "She's been my bestfriend since the third grade."

"That's sweet. So, you guys are all close and everything? Y/N probably knows you the best, hm?" Makayla chuckles.

"Yeah, she does. I guess. We've been through a lot together." Seonghwa looks at her and nods. Makayla isn't one to press more, but she can tell there's a little more to you and what you mean to Seonghwa. Of course, he's not gonna divulge now. Makayla doesn't expect him to. But there's a pause, a silence that falls between them that says there's more to it than he's letting up.

She'll let it be, though. She can tell you are special to Seonghwa.

"That's nice, though. To have someone by your side after all these years. You two are still going strong. I feel like a lot of friendships crumble, or people just get distant because we grow and become different people over time."

"Mmyeah. I think we are. We're just.." Seonghwa shakes her head. "Yeah, nevermind. We're just in our fighting phase but it's not anything we haven't experienced before." He lies to skip out on details. He's torn between telling Makayla the messy ass truth or keeping it on the low— cause honestly, this was a harmless dinner. Seonghwa didn't expect anything out of this.

Maybe he should've just been honest from the beginning but his head is fucking everywhere right now, and he doesn't wanna think about it.

"I see. I hope things get better."

"Yeah, same." Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle before sipping the last bit of his water and standing. "Anyway, ready to get out of here?"

"Sure. Thanks for dinner." He smiles and takes her hand to lead her out of the restaurant.

"Course. Thanks for joining me." It's a bit of a chilly night tonight, Seonghwa and Makayla can see their breath in the air as they walk back to the car together. Seonghwa truthfully is having a good time with her and he doesn't necessarily wanna part ways so soon. He might take this as a distraction, he might use this as a way to get even closer and have something to build off of— he couldn't really tell you what exactly goes through his head at this next moment. He can't lie that it is a good distraction from the bullshit he's been dealing with, and although he doesn't mean to compare Makayla to you, he can't help but say she's been making him feel way better about himself than you lately.

He hates that it even has to come down to this because at the end of the day, life clearly still revolves around you.

Seonghwa tugs the passenger door open and lets her get settled before he hops into the driver's seat. He tugs on his jacket a bit before starting the car and turning up the heat, pulling out his phone to quickly see if there's any notifications he needs to tend to from the boys [you].

"Any plans for the rest of the night?" She shakes her head.

"Nope, none at all. What about you?"

"None. Should we find something else to do then?"

"I'm down!"

"Anything specific come to mind or.. we can hang out at my spot, if you want? No pressure. I can take you home, too. It's whatever you wanna do." Seonghwa looks at her from the driver's seat.

"No, we can go to your place. I'm fine with that."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." She smiles, giving Seonghwa the green light to start up the car and drive back to his apartment.

When they get back to his place, he grabs a bottle of wine and little snacks before popping on a thriller movie she suggests. He plans to keep it chill for the evening. He doesn't plan for anything specific to happen, he doesn't plan for the night to go a certain way. He lets it be; even when Makayla scoots next to him and cuddles up under his arm. Even when his fingers seem to be tracing circles on her arm, even when he suddenly feels the urge to kiss her.

To feel something.

And so one kiss eventually turns into another, and another deep kiss. Then, it eventually turns into Seonghwa tearing off her clothes and vice versa as they rush to his room and get in his sheets. He quickly rolls on a condom and gets her laid out underneath him. He enjoys this, yes— he's not gonna lie. He's a man and he's got needs, that's why he's indulging in every second of this. He fucks her good, deep into the mattress. Makayla's moaning his name and digging her nails deep into his shoulders, whining right into his ear and begging for more of him.

It's an ego boost, and it's making him feel ten times better about himself.

He makes her cum twice that night, from missionary and from behind. He hopes his neighbors don't complain about the noise— headboard lowkey banging into the wall with his name being called out like a mantra.

He has a good fucking time, though. He doesn't kick her out. He lets her stay the night, handing her a shirt to sleep in to feel more comfortable. He holds her and falls asleep quickly, the morning coming not too long after they had fallen asleep together.

Seonghwa planned to sleep in a 'lil bit that morning since he wasn't needed at work until 10am. In his head, he had planned to wake up at his own liking, prep a small breakfast for him and Makayla before offering to take her home on the way to work.

But, his plan is completely ruined when he hears a loud knock on the front door that also startles Makayla awake.

"Are you expecting someone?" Seonghwa's brow turns up as he ponders for a bit. He isn't expecting any packages and he doesn't remember putting in any maintenance requests. So.. no?

"No." He gets up, but Makayla does too and he feels a bit bad her sleep was ruined. "You don't have to get up, you can stay in bed if you'd like."

"No, it's okay. I should probably get up and get ready." He gives her a small smile before walking out, throwing on a white tank top to cover his indecency and tidying up a bit for whoever the hell is on the other side of the door. Who he expected, he wasn't sure. But he sure as hell wasn't expecting it to be you on the other side this early in the morning.

He swings the door open and he's not sure what to say or do, and it doesn't help that Makayla is brushing past behind him in his shirt to gather some of her things.

"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.

"Y/N—"

"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later."

♡ END

"I mean, it's not like you were expecting Y/N to come on that morning. Plus, you didn't necessarily lie or do anything behind anyone's back. You tried." Wooyoung feels a little silly knowing he knew about your plan, but he definitely didn't know Makayla spent the night until now. He took a 'harmless dinner' for what it really was; not Seonghwa taking her back home for good times and good vibes in the sheets. Or else, he probably would've prevented you from going on that morning and lied about Hwa's shift time to keep everything as smooth as possible. But, it doesn't make any sense when Wooyoung really thinks about it. Because even if he did tell you Hwa had an early shift and that it'd be better to see him later, would that help fix anything? Which exactly is the lesser evil?

For Wooyoung, he thinks it just had to unfold the way it did, unfortunately.

"Mm. Yeah." Is all Seonghwa says before finishing up wrapping some KT tape on his client. "Makayla was cool, though."

"Took her out and took her home, ey." His client chimes in, making Seonghwa shake his head.

"Thought I'd move on." Seonghwa shrugs.

"Clearly not." Wooyoung snorts, tossing in some fun to brighten the mood. "No, but, honestly. I think it had to happen this way? Instead of it getting too deep with Makayla and Y/N comes back around? Less mess."

"Less mess is always nice." His client chimes in again. "So, what are you gonna do? Does Tyson know about the whole thing with his cousin?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. He hasn't mentioned anything. If he asked, I'd be honest about it." Seonghwa shrugs. He wasn't entirely hiding anything and he likes to think he tried to go about this as normally as possible. It wasn't like he was out to intentionally hurt Makayla. He could never. He just didn't expect things to play out the way that it did, and he could never lie either.

"Well. What're you gonna do now?"

"Somehow talk to Y/N."

"You haven't heard from her since then, huh? Well, I guess since the club." Wooyoung corrects himself.

"Nope. I have not." Seonghwa's bottom lip pokes out into a pout before patting his client on the shoulder to signal that he was finished with the KT tape.

"Damn, Hwa." Is all his client says before walking out of the room, making both Seonghwa and Wooyoung chuckle.

"I really wanted her to take the lead on this one."

"Technically, she did. It just happened to be at the wrong time." Wooyoung shrugs. "Give her a little bit of time before you reach out again. She probably feels really defeated after that. And don't get me wrong, I love you both and the situation is unfair for both ends. But I think right now you two just need the space."

"Yeah. I'm not gonna force anything right now. I just hope she's able to talk to me before jumping to more conclusions."

"Mhm."

"Have you been able to talk to her recently?" Seonghwa fully turns to Wooyoung.

"Yeah, but she's not really saying anything about it. I think Sannie—"

"Sannie.. what?"

"She called Sannie after the whole thing and cried to him about it."

"Oh." His heart breaks hearing that you've cried over him yet again. Maybe Wooyoung was right— maybe you both needed this space after all.

♡ FLASHBACK

"San? Sannie?" You repeatedly call his name over the phone and San is confused. He has just woken up, but he's immediately alert when he hears you crying, your voice trembling on the other line.

"Hey Y/N?" He says in a questioning tone as he sits up in bed and rubs at his eyes. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I'm so fucking stupid." You quickly start your car and reverse out of the spot to drive off.

"Don't say that, what's going on? Talk to me."

"I just tried to talk to Seonghwa about everything. I was gonna tell him everything, I was gonna be honest. Sannie, I was gonna be honest—"

"Slow down, where are you?"

"I'm going home." You cry and San starts to get up and get ready.

"I'll meet you there and we can talk more, okay? Just please get home safely and I'll be there." You nod even though San can't see you, trying as best as possible to race home in a safe manner. All you wanna do is crawl into bed and cry everything out so you can put on a brave face for work later.

When you get home, you immediately toss your pajamas back on and curl up on the couch. You put on a random movie for background noise, picking up your phone to see the missed calls and texts from Seonghwa.

[seonghwa]: y/n where are you?

[seonghwa]: can we talk, please?

[seonghwa]: just text me back or call me.

[seonghwa]: y/n please talk to me.

You let out a sigh and set the phone aside, not knowing how to respond to him right now. Your thoughts are all over the place, and you're regretting everything that's happened between you and Seonghwa recently. You were too late and this was the price of your actions, reactions, everything.

This is exactly what you were afraid of— losing Seonghwa, even as your bestfriend, for good. Because now, things seem irreparable. Your relationship won't feel the same and it's truly awful.

"It's me, San." You suddenly hear at the door before he lightly jiggles the doorknob. "I'm coming in, okay?" You don't say anything and he proceeds, eyes instantly landing on your form on the couch. "What happened?" San positions himself on the middle of the couch, looking down at you with sympathy. He really does hate seeing you cry— he's hated it since he's known you and grown close to you.

"It's too late. I'm too late. I'm so stupid." You cry, explaining to San about how you finally gained the courage to talk to Seonghwa. You tell San you woke up early and tried to put yourself in a good mindset in order to work through things properly. You tell him about how you got yourself there, ran up the steps and knocked on his door without turning back. You explain the look on Hwa's face, you explain how surprised he was to see you.

You explain how you ran off when you saw her in his shirt.

You explain how your heart dropped, you explain how awful the feeling was hearing him call after you, seeing his texts and missed calls.

"But, he was calling after you. He wants to talk to you Y/N."

"No. I ruined it. He's probably just gonna explain how he needed to move on and tell me shit that's gonna hurt like hell."

"Why don't you hear him out, hm? It could be entirely different, and he might wanna work this out with you."

"We kissed at the club. So after all of this— the kiss, the argument after the fight with Mingi, today—I don't think Seonghwa and I will ever be the same again. I fucked it up." You ramble on and San's slightly having a hard time keeping up cause he's stuck on the fact that you just told him you and Hwa kissed. It's not like he's entirely surprised, it just makes sense as to why things feel too fucking complicated.

He sees why now. But truthfully, as both your friend and Seonghwa's, it's not his place to say anything. The best advice he has is to just let it play out how it should. You'll get your time to talk to Seonghwa. Whatever unfolds from there is what will unfold.

"Hey, don't say that. Please don't." San says softly. "I know everything feels messed up and all over the place right now, but I know Seonghwa wants to fix things just as badly as you do. You're his bestfriend before anything, he'll never let that happen."

"I don't know what to do."

"Why don't you give yourself more time and space? Talk to Seonghwa when you've had a chance to clear your head and gather your thoughts properly." He gently rubs at your back. "This is the best thing you can do for yourself right now. For you and him, maybe." You dig your head into the pillow and release a sigh, almost finding the need to scream at how frustrating everything is.

But, he's right.

Time.

♡ END

"Heard you two kissed at the club." Wooyoung teases Seonghwa, causing him to toss a roll of gauze at his head.

"Shut up."

"Ow, what? It's cute!" Seonghwa glares at him before letting out a sigh.

"It just seems like everything's against us right now." Seonghwa laughs a bit, but deep down, he isn't sure how he feels. He's sad. He's heartbroken. He's not sure if he wanted the kiss to happen purely because of what you two are now. Because even though he knows it's not the only problem, it is probably the biggest.

"Give it time, yeah? You two will talk it out when things settle and it'll get better no matter what that looks like. I know you mean a lot to Y/N, and she wouldn't just drop 16 years of friendship over a silly little squabble."

"Mm." Seonghwa hums.

"Have you talked to Makayla since then?"

"Yeah, and she still wants to be friends. There weren't any expectations so.." Seonghwa shrugs. "At least she doesn't fucking hate me even though I deserve it"

"Dude, again. You weren't intentionally trying to hurt her. It's just a complicated situation."

"Yeah. Anyway. You're coming to my dad's thing right?"

"Of course, the fuck?" Wooyoung laughs. "This weekend, right?"

"Yup."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"I wonder if Y/N is still coming."

"She will." Wooyoung gives him a small smile. "I know she will."

The weekend comes quick and Seonghwa is hauling ass from the wee early morning hours to get ready for his dad's retirement party. He's helping fix up the house and the backyard before running to the store to grab more things his mom needs. Though he's not trippin' about being tasked with errands alone, he'd usually have you tag along for company and extra hands. He feels it a lot today, and it's killing him how he can't even do this with you.

He doesn't even know if you're coming, or if you remembered, even if Wooyoung reassured him.

"You're done?" Seonghwa's mom asks, peering over his shoulders as he hauls in grocery bags and a cake.

"Yeup. Why? Don't tell me you need more, ma. I told you—" She playfully pinches him on the arm and furrows his brows while he lets out a low 'ow.'

"Told me what, hm? That's all! I'm not adding to the list! Where's Y/N?"

"What do you even mean?" She crosses her arms.

"You normally do these things with her. Where is she? Is she okay?" He shrugs.

"Sorry, she's busy." She eyes him, taking note of the way he shrinks and avoids eye contact. "Where do you want me to put the groceries and cake? Fridge for now?"

"Mhm. Thank you."

"Where's dad?"

"Showering and getting ready for his special day."

"I probably should do that, too.”

"Y/N is coming, right?"

"Mom, yes." He says in a slightly exasperated tone because he doesn't know the real truth. He honestly just wants to stop talking about you for a second. Just one second. "I'm gonna get ready." He walks off to get ready, sorting through his duffle bag of clothes that he brought over.

His mom likes to tease him, even though deep down, she gets sad when you two fight. It's not even just the fact that you welcomed him so warmly when he was the new kid in town, it was the fact that she has never seen Seonghwa connect with someone so well. You've always pulled the best out of him, and you were always there to make him laugh, to make him happy. Despite all the troubles you've endured, you've always treated them with respect and you've always shown love even if your own life felt like it was lacking of such. This didn't feel like any other fight she's witnessed between you two— call it mother's instinct, but she knew there was way more to it than Seonghwa wants to let on. She just hopes that whatever it is, you two can pull through. She knows you both are stronger than that.

When Seonghwa gets showered and throws on some better clothes fit for the occasion, he helps his mom and dad get the house clean and tidy for the party. His dad had officially retired, and Seonghwa was happy he could finally rest. Enjoy the things he loved doing. Spend more time with his mom. He helps put up the decorations around the house, fixing up the backyard and getting the grill ready for the food. Wooyoung, Hongjoong and San are one of the first to arrive, along with his relatives. They immediately start drinking and enjoying themselves, playing music and grilling meat to start kicking things off as more people trickle in.

Wooyoung briefly offers to take over the grill while Seonghwa heads into the kitchen to pull out more of the fruits and non-alcoholic drinks for his cousins and relatives that don't drink. He's busy setting things aside when his mom's loud scream startles him, his eyes immediately diverting to the source near the front door.

"Y/N's here with Yaya, Soyeon and Charli!" Seonghwa's mom lets out an excited yell when she sees her favorites walk through the door, throwing her arms around you for a big hug. Seonghwa turns from the kitchen, watching as you greet his family members that immediately swarm you at the entry. You happily greet his dad near the living room, giving him a big hug and congratulations for his retirement. It's the first time he'd be speaking to you after everything, let alone seeing you. He tenses up a bit, but he doesn't ignore the excitement he feels seeing your face, your smile. You're in a white denim maxi skirt and a black off-the-shoulder top, and Seonghwa can't help but stare.

"Hey!" Soyeon playfully punches him on the bicep and pulls him out of his thoughts, with Chacha screaming at the top of her lungs right next to her mom. "Chacha, jeez." Yaya laughs when she hugs him first.

"She sure loves her Uncle Hwa."

"Uncle Hwa!" She continues to scream, making Seonghwa laugh and swoop her into his arms. He gives Soyeon a one-armed hug before placing a kiss on Charli's temple.

"Chacha!" He matches her excitement. "Missed you, pea." He turns to Soyeon. "Junseo's at the restaurant?" She nods.

"Yep! Holding it down like always." She laughs. "He wanted to be here, though." She turns to Charli. "Baby, let's go eat first? You can play with Uncle Hwa after." Charli whines but doesn't fight it, making Hwa promise time after time that he'll play with her after she finishes her food. He does, anyway. He'll do anything to keep that smile on her face.

At this time, you finally make your way to the kitchen and Seonghwa isn't sure how to act. You give him a tiny, toothless smile before throwing one arm around him, clearly avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

"Hey." Seonghwa says, hugging you back. "You drove with Soyeon and Yaya?"

"Mhm."

"Should've told me so I could've picked you guys up."

"It's okay, Hwa." You give him another reassuring smile before grabbing a cup to fill up with some of the fruit juice his mom made. "Is everyone else here?"

"Yeah. Outside in the backyard. Food is out there, too."

"Thanks." You say, sipping your cup before walking out to the backyard. Seonghwa lowly groans to himself when he realizes he's being dumb, maybe slightly afraid, to talk about everything that's been happening.

Maybe it isn't the right time, either. But, he hates being this way with you. It feels terrible, and he wants nothing more than to just be okay with you.

"Are you and Y/N okay?"

"Ma, we're fine. I promise."

"Park Seonghwa if I find out that you've done something to her—"

"I didn't do anything!" He almost squeaks when he responds. "What about me, mom? How about 'are you okay, Seonghwa?'"

"I ask you all the time and you always give me the same answer!" She responds in a higher tone, but Seonghwa knows she's teasing just to push his buttons. "You never want me in your business anyway!"

"Whatever." He sighs and shakes his head, walking out to the backyard to hang out with everyone. Everyone old enough to drink [and isn't driving] raises their cups high for a big toast before knocking some soju back. Seonghwa catches up by taking the shot Wooyoung hands him to the neck, making a face at the bitter brand of soju they've decided on.

You've parked yourself in between Hongjoong and San, with Yaya, Soyeon and Charli sitting nearby as they eat their food. You have a plate in hand while you laugh along with San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung poking fun and making faces at Charli nearby. Seonghwa plops onto the empty bench space next to San, sipping on his drink while watching his cousins play in front of everyone. San sees you shift in your position a bit, now paying more attention to Charli, Wooyoung and Hongjoong, while Seonghwa continues to quietly sip on his drink. San isn't gonna lie— he feels a bit awkward since the tension is coming from both ways. But, he brushes it off anyway; trying to keep everything as normal as possible to keep the party running on a smooth note.

"Uncle Hwa." Charli comes in front of him with a huge smile on her face.

"Yes?" He gives her the same smirk, setting his cup down onto the table. "Finished eating?"

"Ya. But, mommy says I can't play yet."

"30 minutes!" Soyeon yells from her seat.

"She's right. You need to let your food settle." He pokes at her tummy and pulls her onto his lap. "Here." He hands her his phone to play on.

"Uncle Hwa." She calls for him again as she watches him pull up her favorite game.

"Mhm?" She puts up her tiny hands near his ear to whisper something so incredibly confidential:

"Are you and Titi Y/N fighting?" He chuckles.

"A bit, but we'll be okay."

"Why?" She pouts at him.

"Just grown up things, Chacha. We'll be okay." He repeats.

"You promise?" She's still whispering and Seonghwa's heart melts when she puts up her pinky for a pinky-promise. "Titi Y/N loves you. Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad." He wraps his pinky around hers. "Promise, okay? Here." He passes her his phone once the game loads.

"Uncle Hwa, I wanna play with your legos." She plays Mario Kart Tour furiously on his phone.

"Which one do you wanna play with?"

"Any." Seonghwa laughs and nods, carrying her as he stands to grab his legos from his stash in his old room.

"Let's go find one, hm?" You watch as Seonghwa carries Charli with ease into the house, remembering the night you two spent with Charli a few weeks ago. Feels pretty distant, and it hits you how sad your situation with Seonghwa is right now. You quickly shake off your thoughts and stand from your seat to throw your trash away and grab another drink, grabbing more trash from the group when they see you making your way inside. You toss the paper plates away, engaging in small talk with Seonghwa's cousins as they pass in and out of the house. You pour yourself another cup, getting slightly startled by Charli zooming out of the house screaming in pure happiness while holding one of Hwa's small lego sets.

"That girl talks in screams." You mutter to yourself. "Oh shit." You look at the small spill to the side of your cup, letting out a sigh when you reach over for a napkin—

"Here." Seonghwa cocks a brow up when he hands you a napkin. "Can always count on you to make a mess, I guess." You roll your eyes at his sarcasm and snatch the napkin out of his hand to wipe up the spill.

"Thanks." Seonghwa continues to stand there, awkwardly watching you clean up the spill. You turn to him once more, furrowing your brows in confusion. "What?"

"We're just not gonna talk about it?"

"We're not doing this right now." You look at him. "Not at your dad's retirement party."

"Then when, Y/N? You're just gonna leave everything like this?"

"I don't know, Seonghwa! I guess so, cause I'm definitely not doing this now." He lets out a hefty sigh before slowly nodding his head.

"Wow, so you're fine with—"

"Stop." Seonghwa licks his lips and purses them together before breaking eye contact first. It's the easiest comeback he has, and he's not sure why he feels so angry, so triggered, right now. It's probably because he wishes you had just talked to him before the party. It's probably because it's been too long and he's not even sure where this leaves you two anymore. It's probably because he misses you and wishes he could just hug you. Call you. Text you. Do everything that he used to. Regardless of the kiss.

"Alright." Seonghwa says, surrendering and waving the white flag. You catch the way his jaw slightly clenches when he tears his eyes away from you and breaks eye contact. It does break your heart, and you hate that this is what you two have become. But, you weren't gonna do this on his dad's special day. Not at his dad's party.

"Excuse me." You grab your cup and Seonghwa steps aside to let you walk out first. He follows suit, shutting the sliding door behind him. Your friends and Soyeon don't fail to catch how bothered you two look even though you try to keep it under wraps, continuing to keep distance even as the afternoon goes on.

While Charli continues to play with the lego set in between playing with Seonghwa's baby cousins, you, your friends, and Seonghwa's relatives engage in more drinking and karaoke. Seonghwa and his mom take a moment to say little speeches over the cake, congratulating his dad for his retirement and for reaching a milestone in his life. You go about the party as normal as possible, keeping the energy and the good vibes alive even though it truly feels the worst not being able to genuinely be happy around the people you love the most.

You knew it was time to talk to Seonghwa soon, and that he was waiting for you to do it. He had been waiting for you, and god knows how disappointed he must have been in you.

Everything just feels so fucked up, and you feel so torn about everything. You wish you could just run away and hide from it all, even though you equally wanted to fix this and figure out where you two lie in all of this.

What about Makayla?

Was he still seeing her like that?

That's probably the one thing you were most afraid of. Seonghwa was your bestfriend. Despite all of this, you should be happy with whatever he chooses. He deserves it. He didn't deserve what you gave him at the club or how you failed to be honest about your feelings. This was all because of you.

As the evening arrives, you and Soyeon plan to leave in the next half hour due to Charli getting restless. As you pack some food to go for the both of you, Seonghwa's mom rushes over to you and puts her hand on your back. She looks at you lovingly like she always has, a soft smile on her face.

"Come here really quickly.” Her hand laces with yours as she shows you to their room. "I was cleaning up the garage the other day and found these photos and videos." She hands you some old photos of you, your dad, and Seonghwa and his dad while out. You flip through them, feeling the tears welling up in your bottom lids.

You missed your dad so, so much.

There were even photos of you and Seonghwa on the playground, photos of you and Seonghwa laughing while on a family trip, photos of you and Seonghwa hanging out in each other's backyards. Photos of you, your dad, Seonghwa and Seonghwa's dad together.

"This, too." His mom slips an old VHS tape into the VCR and you giggle a bit at how long it's been since you've watched something on tape. A huge wave of nostalgia immediately rushes over you as you gently place the photos down and watch the video of you and your dad during the fourth grade trip to the local zoo.

"He truly adored you more than anything. You will always be his little girl." She says and you start crying. Seonghwa's mom leans her head on your shoulder, and you lean onto her; silently enjoying the footage together. All of this was perfect timing, and you knew Seonghwa's mom did it for a reason. Your dad's death anniversary would be coming later in the week and it was everything you needed to find some comfort.

"I miss him."

"I know he misses you, too."

"Thank you." You look at her and give her a toothless smile. "Can I take these pictures?"

"Of course! Want the tapes, too?"

"Is it okay if I keep it here? I don't have a VCR." She laughs a bit and nods.

"Yes, absolutely." She rubs your arm before pulling you into another hug. "I'm glad you came out today."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You and Seonghwa seem to be fighting." She makes a face that makes you laugh. "What happened? What did he do?"

"Nothing. It was me. We just got.. into a disagreement, I guess. It's my fault though, and I just haven't been able to talk to him to apologize."

"You two will be fine."

"I know." You give her another tiny, toothless smile. "I hope." The two of you sit together for a little longer, taking in the rest of the photos before you wrap it up and head back out to the party.

At this point, your friends are taking their leave, with Charli laying on Soyeon as her mom holds her. She hands you the bags of all the food you packed for yourself, Yaya and Soyeon, saying your goodbyes to everyone still around. You save Seonghwa for last, giving him a tiny smile as he pulls you into a full-armed hug. You embrace the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest before he pulls away and looks at you.

"Wait." He says, holding you by the shoulders. "Have you been crying?" He looks deeply into your eyes and takes note of your wet eyelashes. You brush it off and look away, shaking your head as a response.

"No, I haven't." You brush past him to finish saying bye to his parents before rushing out the door to your own family. Seonghwa furrows his brows and looks at his mom, realizing she also has wet lashes and just looked like she finished crying.

"Were you and Y/N crying together?"

"I showed her some photos and videos with her dad that I found in the garage." She shows him the date on her phone and it’s enough for Seonghwa to understand what it means.

"Oh. I see." Is all he says. "Was she okay?"

"I think so. She can always say she's okay even though deep down, she's not." She puts her hand on Seonghwa's arm. "I don't know if it'll ever get easier for her."

"Goodmorning Hwa! Have you heard from Y/N yet? I wanted to ask her something but she hadn't texted me back and her phone is off. I think I might know why, though." Seonghwa lets out a breath and licks his lips before responding.

"I see. I'll check." He says. "I got you."

"Thanks. If you do see her, tell her to call me later when she's up for it."

"I will." And with that, Seonghwa cuts the call. He looks at his watch before devouring the rest of his breakfast, grabbing his bag and heading out the door much earlier than expected. It's a crisp, cold day. Somewhat of a drastic change compared to the days they've been having. Seonghwa can see his breath in the air, and he's regretting the light windbreaker jacket he grabbed as he rushed out the door— hoping it'd get warmer.

But, it doesn't.

He has to be at work in a bit, and he's probably even gonna be late. He's just concerned about you, and even though things still feel weird, awkward— he knows he needs to be here for you. Especially during this time.

And Seonghwa's timing couldn't be any more perfect. Because although today isn't the exact day of your dad's death anniversary, it's in two days and you never know how to prepare. Lately, you've found yourself avoiding the exact day, visiting your dad’s grave a few days earlier to say some words, say your peace. Cry and reminisce. When the day comes, you try to keep yourself busy. You work and you work, and you spend time with Yaya, or Soyeon, or even Seonghwa's family because it's the love you need to surround yourself with. As much as you love them all dearly, they aren't your dad and it never gets easier. It's an unbearable pain you can't even describe. It doesn't go away. It just sits there, leaning onto your already-broken heart and weighing heavily on the surface.

You've been quietly sitting at your dad'd grave, fingers tracing over his picture. You smile whenever you see his bright smile, his eyes holding all the irreplaceable love in the world. You're not even sure how long it's been since you got here, maybe an hour or two. It's cold, but you don't want to leave. You want to spend as much time as you can being here even though it is hard.

You continue to cry and slowly fix the flowers around his grave and other offerings. You set one of the framed pictures of you, Seonghwa, and your dads onto his grave before crying, and crying some more. Suddenly, you feel someone drape a jacket over your shoulders, and with the circumstances, you would've been spooked if it were any other day. But, you feel at ease. You feel comforted. You feel completely fine because everything feels familiar. Your feelings are confirmed when Seonghwa wraps his arm around you and pulls you close.

"It's cold, how long have you been out here for?"

"Awhile."

"You should've called me." Is all he says before there's a brief silence that falls between you two.

"I always think it'll get easier." You mumble as you wipe away at your tears. "When a new year comes, I always feel like it'll be the year I'll finally be able to process this and say my peace to it." You start breaking down again and Seonghwa sits still, silently listening to you cry. "But, it never turns out that way. It just gets harder."

"It's an unbearable pain that doesn't go away. I'm sorry it had to be you, and I wish it didn't turn out this way. I wish it wasn't like this for you." Seonghwa says lowly as he continues to hug you and keep you close. "Your dad is always here, watching over you. And I know he'd be so proud of you for being so strong and overcoming all the adversity that came your way."

"I just miss him, Hwa. I really wish I could hug him again. I'll never forgive myself for taking advantage of all those chances and for being too comfortable."

"Y/N, this is the sort of tragedy that you can't control. It's awful, but you would have never known. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. You did your best as his daughter, and I know he appreciated every moment until the end. I know he felt your love through everything." You cry onto his shoulder, letting everything that you still have left in you out. Seonghwa continues to hold you close, hand rubbing up and down your arm as his cheek rests on the top of your head.

"You really didn't have to come, pichu."

"And let you do this alone? I don't think so." You shift in your position to look at him. He gently takes a thumb underneath your eyes, wiping away at your tears.

"Can we talk? At my place?"

"Yeah. I'll come as soon as I'm done with work, okay?" You nod and Seonghwa gives you a tiny smile. The two of you sit in silence for a little longer before you're saying your goodbyes and heading your separate ways.

"By the way, Soyeon wanted to ask you something." He dips his head. "Call her when you get home." You nod again. "Drive safely for me." He taps your door frame before shutting it close and heading to his own car. You watch in your mirror, waiting for Seonghwa to step into his car before you drive off and head home.

Getting home, you immediately wash up, get into comfier clothes and call Soyeon to check in with her when you see her texts. You agree to picking up a few extra shifts throughout the week to cover for Jini finally taking some time off for personal reasons. You hang out on the couch, putting on a reality TV show you had already finished— you figured it'd be good for background noise. Filling up the emptiness of your space. You end up taking a long nap, waking up close to dinner by Yaya calling you into the house to share some food with her. It felt nice catching up on sleep, since you weren’t able to get much the night before. You spend most of your early evening with Yaya, helping her clean up around the kitchen before you retreat back to your place and pick up your phone when a text goes off.

[seonghwa]: need anything for dinner?

[you]: no i ate already, ty. just get yourself something!

[seonghwa]: okay. i'll be over in a few mins

You tidy up even more as if it's the first time Seonghwa is coming over. But, you feel nervous all over again. You feel like every inch of your apartment has to be clean in order to prep; overall, it feels like nothing can really prep you for whatever will go down tonight between you and Seonghwa and this is only helping distract you from that thought. You just hope it ends on a good note.

"Sorry it took me a little longer, had hella shit to do for the trainees today." You shrug as you look at him from the couch, wrapped up in your blanket.

"It's okay."

"What'd you do when you got home?"

"Hm, clean. Nap. Eat dinner with Yaya. How was work?" He shrugs.

"Tiring." He plops next to you on the couch. You notice he's drinking a protein shake, with nothing else in hand.

"You didn't get anything to eat?" He shakes his head.

"I'm not really hungry."

"Hm, okay." You hum. "Thanks for still coming over even though you had a long day." He looks at you and gives you a toothless smile.

"Course." You scoot a little closer and he continues to watch you. He watches the cute little frown on your face build— staring at him all doe-eyed and it makes his heart flutter.

"I'm sorry for everything, pichu. I didn't mean to get mad at you that night the fight broke out. I just didn't wanna see you hurt and I'm stupid for not pushing Mingi away. For finding excuses. You shouldn't have to save me every single time and I'm sorry it has been that way over the years." You tilt your head. "I really am sorry, and I didn't mean to make things more complicated especially with the kiss. I probably ruined things with Makayla—"

"We're just friends." He chimes in. "We're just friends and you didn't ruin anything."

"She was at your place? In your clothes?" He nods and chuckles a bit.

"Yeah, cause things escalated for one night. I'm not gonna lie. But, that's really it. She knew.." Seonghwa looks at you and shakes his head. "Nevermind."

"No, tell me. She knew, what?" You place your hand on his and gentle shake it.

"She knew the way I felt about you, especially after that morning."

"Oh."

"I guess she could just tell."

"I'm sorry, Hwa." He clicks his teeth and caresses your cheek.

"Stop saying sorry. Nothing was ruined. Everything's good between us and we're still friends."

"Where does that leave us?"

"You know what I want. What do you want?" You look at him for a moment, really look at him, and he's patiently waiting for your response. His big, brown eyes are holding hope, holding love, holding every bit of affection he has for you— even though he's trying his best to keep it at bay. At this moment, you couldn't even question how Seonghwa felt for you because it's overflowing from his look alone. He really wanted you. He really wanted to give you the world, if you'd let him.

"I'm just scared, Hwa." You say, close to a whisper— bottom lip trembling. He lifts your chin as he scoots closer, keeping you close and warm while his big, brown eyes peer into yours with pure adoration. There's a mix of worry, concern, but he knows better than this. He knows you two are better than this.

"I am too, I have been for a long time. But, please trust me when I tell you that I'm here and that I'll never leave your side no matter what. I'm here, Y/N. I want this, I want you. I have always wanted this."

"Don't lie."

"You know I hate liars." He chuckles a bit.

"I feel the same, Hwa. I do.”

"Yeah? You're with me? Genuinely?" You nod. "I need you to be sure of us, Y/N."

"I'm sure. I'm sorry I ever doubted you or questioned it, but I'm sure." You shed a few more tears while Seonghwa chuckles a bit. "Hey." You whine. "I'm serious!"

"I am, too." He smiles. "Stop crying, you look ugly when you cry." He teases and you smack his arm. "Just come here." He says, pulling you closer and lifting your chin up. "I got you, okay? I got us.”

"Okay."

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" Seonghwa asks, close to a whisper. You quietly nod, watching as he dips forward and closes in for a kiss. It's soft, it's sweet, it's light. It makes your lips tingle, it makes you feel all sorts of butterflies. Before Seonghwa can pull back, you immediately chase after his lips— asking for another, just deeper, more intense. It quickly builds without having to do or say much; Seonghwa's large hand cupping your cheeks right before you straddle his lap, careful not to break the kiss. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, background noise now also being filled with the sound of wet kisses. Small whines and whimpers. Seonghwa's hands fall to your ass, giving it a good squeeze when he feels you slowly rock against his already-hard cock.

"Fuck." He hisses just as you suck onto his bottom lip and tug back on it. "Hold onto me." He demands as he swiftly carries you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He drops you onto the bed and continues to kiss you, making his way down to your jaw. Neck.

"Gonna ask again.” He places a kiss on your jaw. “Sure about this? Us? If you want me to stop, I'll stop." You shake your head as Seonghwa continues to plant kisses wherever he can, thumb fiddling with the hem of your shorts.

"Keep going." You reassure him through a quick cheek caress when he stops and stares. "Please. I’m sure."

"Okay." He whispers before dipping in for a final kiss on the lips. The both of you continue to shed off your clothes, tossing them at different points in your studio. "You're still on birth control, right? I'm clean."

"Mhm." You barely respond before you let out a small gasp when Seonghwa's thumb run down your folds, feeling for how wet you are already. He presses at your sensitive nub, biting onto his bottom lip when he sees how you easily respond.

"So wet already." Your mouth waters when Seonghwa finally sheds off his boxers and pumps himself a few times. When Seonghwa tugs the covers up and slightly hovers over your body, he teases you for a few minutes by running his tip up and down your folds. He lets out a small moan before slowly breaching your entrance, sliding in with ease because of how wet you are.

This whole thing feels so raw, feels so new, feels so.. meant to be.

So perfect.

Like fitting in the last piece of a 1000-piece puzzle.

Seonghwa slowly works himself into you to adjust to the feeling, his mouth slacked open against yours at how good, how perfect, you feel. He finds a steady rhythm, your legs cocked open for him as he dives deeper, and deeper— hitting you in all the right spots. Seonghwa thinks the feeling is indescribable. It's the fact that the person he genuinely loves is underneath him, the person he genuinely loves has admitted in feeling the same about him, about this. It's the fact that everything feels so, so right.

It makes everything about this exciting, more pleasurable.

"God, you feel so good—" He groans. "Baby, fuck." The pet name sends shivers down your spine, eliciting a loud moan to slip from your lips. He picks up the pace, fucking into you rougher, faster.

"Seonghwa—" You whine. He sits up, hands splayed out on your thighs to keep them spread open while thrusting into you. He watches as you shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure, teeth biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning too loud. "Mm'close." You mewl as Seonghwa's hips become a little sloppier, his movements rough and hard. You start to move your hips to match his movements, tipping closer and closer over the edge with every move, every moan, every kiss. Suddenly, you still as you let out a loud moan of Seonghwa's name— a huge wave of pleasure, ecstasy, washing over your body. Seonghwa takes the opportunity to chase his high, hips stuttering just as he releases his seed into you shortly afterwards. A strangled, deep moan leaves his lips as he presses wet kisses against your neck, jaw, lips.

"Y/N." He looks at you, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

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