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whore-anghaereads · 8 days ago

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FALL ASLEEP LIKE THAT 👀👀👀👀👀🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 GIRL it’s a TRAP. You know his chest is HUGE with comfy ass pecs PLS. Also one more day left ???????!?!! Omgomgomg

You Think You Might - Chapter 2 || csc

(banner by @itaeewon)

You Think You Might (masterpost) Seungcheol x fem!reader angst smut fluff fake dating!au, kind of sort of exes to lovers?

NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: Seungcheol agrees to be your fake boyfriend at your sister’s destination wedding, under the condition that it “stays there”. You didn’t expect it to hurt when he holds you to that promise.

WC: 54k total, this chapter 11.7k

Warnings: angst, reader working through some Stuff, language, drinking, Soonyoung is reader’s biological little brother, family drama, scoups and his ex are mutually toxic when together but neither is villainized, full warning list on the masterpost

A/N: thank you to @sailorsoons and @eoieopda for beta-ing, and @kkaetnipjeon for naming almost every background character and teaching me about the Levels of Noona.

You wake up facing the other direction - Seungcheol’s direction - cuddling something. As soon as your brain processes this, you freeze, trying to calculate how bad the damage is.

You open one eye, afraid of what you’ll find. Seungcheol is still asleep, facing you - but he’s still a good six or seven inches away. You’re cuddling, you realize with relief, the sheet you two had rolled up and put in the center of the bed. You have woken up spooning the Blanket Wall.

But at least you aren’t spooning Seungcheol.

Slowly, you extract yourself from the Blanket Wall’s sweet embrace and roll back to what is safely your half of the bed, and lift your phone to check the time.

It’s almost time for your alarm anyway, so you check your socials and your texts. Your mother has texted already this morning, confirming your breakfast plans. You shoot back an affirmative, and head for the bathroom.

When you emerge, dressed, it seems like Seungcheol is still asleep. You creep to the foot of the bed and wiggle one of his feet through the blankets, gently.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Mmm?” he responds, turning his head towards you and making a definite attempt to open one eye.

God, he’s cute.

You shove the thought away - it’s neither productive nor helpful.

“I’m sorry,” you say, still whispering. “But we’re - I’m - supposed to meet my family in like forty minutes and I didn’t know how much time you’d need to get ready. If you’re coming with me. Which you don’t have to.”

“Thanks,” he tries to say, though it sounds like he says it around marbles, letting his head drop back to the pillow. Then, a minute later, he says - much more clearly - “If I’m not out of the bed in five minutes please hit me with a pillow.”

You laugh, then move to open the curtains, hoping a well-lit room will help him wake up on his own. You dip back into the bathroom to hang up your towel, and when you come out again, he’s upright, stretching his arms towards the ceiling and yawning loudly. You decidedly do not look at his arms as he does this.

You take your phone out on the balcony, able to enjoy the view of the ocean now that it’s daylight, to give him a little space while he gets ready.

When it’s five minutes until you should walk down to the resort’s main dining room, you head back inside. Seungcheol is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at something on his phone, face serious - but he’s dressed and looks pretty ready, his hair pushed back to frame his exposed forehead, his shirt sleeves clinging to his biceps.

You force yourself to look elsewhere. You clear your throat, and he pulls his gaze away from the phone screen to look up at you, eyebrows raised in anticipation for whatever you’re going to say. “Just one final time - you don’t have to deal with breakfast with my mom if you don’t want to. You and I could meet up later.”

He tilts his head a little. “I’m here to sell the idea that we’re a serious couple, right?” he asks, unnecessarily. You both know the answer. “It would be weird for you to go to breakfast without your boyfriend.”

“I guess,” you admit.

He pushes himself to standing, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I agreed to do this,” he points out. “If you spend the next two days worried about whether I really, really want to attend each event, you’re going to make yourself crazier than you would have been if you’d come alone. I’m here, so let me do it right.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Just… I appreciate you. And I know some of this won’t be fun for you, and I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, takes one small step closer. “Don’t be. It’s all part of the job, right?”

Something had been simmering in you, unnamed, since you’d kissed last night with sand between your toes and the stars’ reflections on ocean waves. At these words from Seungcheol, you feel it jerk to a halt behind your navel.

He’s right. You’d agreed, explicitly, on what this would be. You don’t want a mess - neither of you does. You need to be better than this - you need to be able to handle some muscley arms and kissing.

“Yes,” you say belatedly, when you realize you hadn’t replied. “Yes, part of the job. Okay, well, if you’re ready… we can walk down?”

“I’m ready,” he says.

You check your hair and makeup in the mirror as you pass, grab the cute purse you’d bought just for this sundress, and head for the elevators, your fake boyfriend trailing just a step behind you.

“That dress is nice,” he tells you in the elevator, his voice innocent and even. You flush anyway, murmuring a thank you.

You spot your family right away when you pause at the dining hall’s entrance. They’re seated near a large window overlooking the beach. Behind them, the sun streams down, bright and unrelenting. Your stomach clenches when you see your mother’s profile, but loosens when you hear Soonyoung (and Chan, god, you can’t believe Dumb and Dumber are here with you) laughing.

You reach behind you blindly, fumbling for your fake boyfriend’s hand. He slips his fingers between yours and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Ready, babe?” he asks, one side of his mouth twitching, an eyebrow raised playfully.

Whatever shut down inside you when you were upstairs gives a tiny sign of life at the endearment.

“I am if you are,” you say, and then lead him through the dining hall, weaving around other tables until you reach your own.

“There they are!” Chan cries happily. “We thought perhaps you got delayed, what with the romance of the beach and -”

“Chan,” you say, smiling through gritted teeth, “I would like to remind you that you are not a member of my family and therefore I have zero qualms about ending your life.”

“Didn’t even make it to 9am without death threats,” Soonyoung sighs dramatically.

Your mother has risen to hug you, so you drop Seungcheol’s hand to return it.

“Um,” you say, stepping back when she releases you, “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Seungcheol.”

Her face tightens, but she covers it with a quick smile, reaching out a hand to shake Seungcheol’s. “Nice to meet you, boyfriend Seungcheol,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. She doesn’t even try to make it subtle. Then, she turns back to your little brother, who is still seated - eternally unbothered. “Did you know your sister was dating someone?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “Of course I did,” he says easily. “They met through me. I didn’t know that you didn’t know. Noona didn’t say it was a secret.”

Everyone looks at you again. You flush. “It wasn’t a secret,” you say defensively. “I just… I don’t know. It felt weird to bring up, and…”

You trail off, sheepish, and Soonyoung pipes up to defend you. “Ah, Noona’s always been private about this stuff,” he points out. “She didn’t tell the family about her new job until she’d been there long enough for her first promotion, remember?”

Chan rests his chin in his hands, leaning closer to you from his side of the table. “Why are you so secretive? Have you ever explored this in therapy?”

“Chan,” you growl threateningly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Seungcheol interrupts, his deep voice coming from your left. “I’ve been telling her to set up a dinner with you for ages, but she gets so wrapped up in work - you know how she is when she’s focused on a project.”

You glance sideways at him, curious. Does he know this chink in your mother’s armor, your work? Or was it a lucky shot? Either way, your mother softens slightly, and gives him a more genuine smile.

“Yes, she can certainly have a one-track mind when she’s got a goal to meet,” she says warmly, sliding back into her seat and opening her hand towards the two empty chairs, inviting you to sit.

The rest of breakfast goes well - better than you could have hoped, really. Seungcheol fits into the conversation easily, having years of friendship with Soonyoung and Chan. You almost feel like the outsider in the conversation - though, once he’s done eating, Seungcheol leaves his arm casually draped over the back of your chair, absently drawing lazy shapes on your bare shoulder. You fight back a shiver at the sensation, and Soonyoung meets your eyes across the table, folding his lips all the way back into his mouth and biting on them to keep from outright laughing at this turn of events.

You might kill him and Chan both, “family” be damned.

Your mother asks, as you expected, about how you got together. Seungcheol follows directions and lets you tell it. You keep it simple, and Soonyoung helps by acting all smug that he set you up, to which Chan argues that he hadn’t done it on purpose and shouldn’t act like he did. It’s all so normal, so natural, that you could almost believe the story yourself.

“So if you’ve been together almost a year,” your mother muses, dabbing at her lips with the linen napkin, “you must have been together for the holidays. I’m surprised we didn’t meet then.”

“I was with my family,” Seungcheol says easily, with a small shrug. “We’d only been together around five months by then - holidays with the family felt a bit heavy.”

Your mother purses her lips, her eyes on you even though Seungcheol is the one who answered.

“It wasn’t that serious yet,” you chime in. “I think I got him a sweater as a gift.”

“Hey, I like that sweater,” he complains, joining the bit without delay. You love how quick he is.

“Hm,” your mother says tightly, and sips at her tea. She isn’t buying it, not completely. You need to turn it up.

You send Seungcheol a sideways smile, trying to make it a little sly. “Better presents are on the horizon,” you promise. “With our first anniversary coming.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, leaning back in his chair to look at you appraisingly. “Oh, are they?” he asks playfully. “What did you get me? A car?”

Soonyoung laughs. “Maybe a Hot Wheels,” he cackles.

“Shut up, Soonyoung,” you snap, but there’s no heat behind it.

“Better get me a few Hot Wheels,” Seungcheol says, “if you want to keep up with what I got for you.”

Your eyes widen, even though this is a fake present for a fake anniversary. “What did you get for me?” you ask in a rush, leaning forward towards him, reaching for his hands. “Is it sparkly?”

“Yes, it’s a mirror. Enrichment for your enclosure,” Chan quips.

You turn to face him, Seungcheol’s hands still in yours. “Chan, you are quite literally the worst part of my morning.”

Your mother, the actual worst part of your morning, watches this but says nothing.

And then, blessedly, the conversation moves back to the wedding you’re here for.

“I assume you’re joining us later, at the salon?” your mother asks.

You fight to keep your face neutral, to keep the scowl off. “Yes,” you say, as evenly as possible. “I saw that on the itinerary.”

You’d been emailed an hour-by-hour schedule, in fact, detailing exactly where you needed to be and when for the entire weekend. You’re supposed to meet with Nayoung, her one bridesmaid that isn’t family, and your mother at a salon just off the resort to get your nails all done together. “Bonding”, Nayoung pretended, but you know it’s because she wants to make sure you all match.

“What are you gonna do all day while the girls get pretty?” your brother asks, and next to you Seungcheol shifts in his seat.

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” he admits. “I mean, we’re at the beach, so I figured I’d find something to do. Walk the beach and see if I can score any numbers -”

You elbow him in the ribs harder than necessary. He laughs, squeezing your shoulder playfully.

“She’s too easy to wind up,” he says, smirking at you sideways.

“Don’t think you’re safe just because you’re tall and handsome,” you warn.

You can feel your mother’s eyes watching this teasing exchange and you try to ignore the prickly feeling of her dissecting the interaction. As you work on avoiding her gaze, Soonyoung invites your date to join him and Chan for the afternoon.

“Do you care, babe?” he asks lightly, turning to look at you.

You can’t help it - you laugh. This is all so absurd. Him calling you babe. His hand on your shoulder. Him asking permission to go hang out with his friends. What a stupid situation you’ve created.

“Of course not,” you say brightly, your nose growing an inch as you do. “I’ll text you when we leave the salon? I think we’ll have a few hours between that and rehearsal dinner - maybe we can go down to the pool or something?”

He gives you a little squeeze again. “That sounds good,” he agrees.

When you all rise, he waits behind your chair, pushing it in for you after you vacate the seat.

“See you later?” you ask quietly, stepping into his space and looking up at him. It’s code, and you hope he hears it - we’re good? You’re okay for now?

He leans down and kisses your forehead, and something inside you longs to close your eyes and lean into it, thirsty for affection.

“All good,” he says, giving you a sweet, dimpled smile. “Text me when you’re heading back.”

“I will,” you promise, and then, since everyone is watching, you rise up on your tiptoes and give him a quick kiss on the lips goodbye. You step away lightly, but he tugs you back by the wrist and kisses you again, firmer, lingering.

“Have fun,” he says, still smiling, when you pull away from his surprise attack.

“Don’t get too many numbers,” you shoot back.

“You two are disgusting,” Chan complains.

“Quit crying because you’re single,” you sniff.

It’s believable, you think. We’re doing it.

But as you follow your mother through the dining hall - intending to share a ride to the salon - you feel something twinge behind your ribcage. It feels like nerves, like you’re afraid that when you step away the whole facade will crumble.

–

Nayoung and her other bridesmaid - her college roommate, Sheyla - are already there when you follow your mother into the nail salon.

“Oh, good!” your sister cries, rising from her seat. “You’re here!”

She hugs your mother first, then you, stepping back and saying, “Eomma says you brought a boyfriend.”

As if she just saw you last week, and this didn’t come up in conversation. As if you usually tell her things about your life, and you omitted something. As if you have some kind of relationship, and it’s normal and expected for her to tease you.

When the truth is you have no relationship, no room to tease this practical stranger, no reality where she knows even the barest details about your life. You could be married and she wouldn’t have known - just like you stand here today, not even knowing what her fiancé looks like, knowing his name only from that embossed invitation that came in the mail months ago.

“Should I have left him at home and brought the mailman instead?” you ask, a bit acidic.

She smiles at you like your petulance is cute, while behind you your mother whispers your name sharply.

“No,” she laughs quietly. “I just meant, it’s so weird that you’re even grown up enough to come with a boyfriend, share a room, all that stuff. You should still be too little for all that.”

Yes, you think, because the last time you were around me for any length of time, I was nine.

You’re here for her wedding. This weekend is about her, and her new husband. You can be a brat later, in private.

“I don’t think me having a serious boyfriend is really the big news here,” you say as lightly as possible, despite the churning need to barb that you feel. “You’re getting married tomorrow.”

She laughs and Sheyla lets out a “damn right!” from her seat. You’ve never met Sheyla before - only know who she is from your mother’s unsolicited updates about Nayoung’s life.

You let Nayoung dictate the shade and shape for your nails. You try to engage in the conversation just enough that you don’t look sullen. Mostly, you watch your sister - like if you watch her long enough, she might start to look like someone you know, and not a stranger. Like if you watch her long enough, she’ll become the sister you remember from childhood, who watched Saturday morning cartoons on the living room floor with you even though she was “too old” for them, who helped you with homework while your dad cooked dinner, who let you sleep in her bed when it thunderstormed.

It doesn’t happen. She stays a stranger, a woman you don’t know at all.

You hear all about Nayoung and her fiancé - how they’d known each other in college, but never dated, how they’d ended up working together by chance and had fallen into a relationship. The story’s sweet, you can’t deny.

“He’s so whipped for her, it’s appalling,” Sheyla jokes.

“Is not,” your sister protests, giggling. “We have a very equally-matched relationship, thank you very much.”

“Mutually whipped.”

“Sheyla, I know where you sleep.”

They kind of remind you of yourself and Soonyoung, and even Chan.

“There’s a restaurant down this block,” Nayoung tells you and your mother as you stand near the front of the salon to pay. “Sheyla and I were going to grab a small bite and a drink before we head over to get ready for rehearsal. Do you want to join?”

“That sounds lovely,” your mother says, seemingly for both of you.

Absolutely not.

“I should get back to the resort for a little bit,” you say, trying to sound apologetic. “Seungcheol’s been with the guys all day - I should see what they’re up to.”

“I’m sure they’re just fine,” Nayoung says. “He’s with his friends at a private beach - they’re probably having a blast.”

“Maybe I miss him,” you say, a bit of challenge creeping into your tone.

“So cute,” Sheyla coos, and you can’t even examine if it’s patronizing or sarcastic or genuine because your mother’s eyes narrow and you need to get away before you cave and do what she wants instead of what you want.

“I’ll grab an Uber,” you say, turning before anyone can argue. “We’ll grab a ride to rehearsal with Soonyoung and Chan later, okay?”

You’re a thousand percent sure they’re talking about you as you slip out into the hot sun. You’d rather wait inside, in the aircon, but you’ll have to tough it out, now. Luckily, the car doesn’t take long, and you’re back to the resort in no time.

From the car you send, “omw back. where is everyone?”

Seungcheol answers, “at the pool furthest from the entrance - less crowded. see you soon”

And then the fucker sends a heart.

You roll your eyes.

You: is that really necessary?

Seungcheol: you have to admit its a little funny

Seungcheol: i have to amuse myself somehow

You don’t answer; it’s not his fault you’re in a terrible mood. You head up to the room first, relishing the quiet and the chance to be “off” for a few minutes as you fish a bathing suit out of your suitcase and get changed. You pull the same sundress back over the suit and grab your phone and a pair of sunglasses.

You have two missed texts from the few minutes you were changing.

Seungcheol: you joining us?

Mom: It’s a little rude of you to go spend time with the people you see every day when you have the rare opportunity to visit with your sister.

You slap your phone back down on the counter and try to take a deep breath, closing your eyes against the wave of fury that rises up in you.

Kind of rude of you, you answer in your head, to think I should spend all my time with someone who hasn’t cared about my existence in over fifteen years instead of the people who give a shit that I am alive.

You answer Seungcheol first - “stopped in the room. be there in a few”. Then, after much pacing, you send your mother, “sorry. feel bad letting my date fend for himself. i’ll see nayoung lots tonight and tomorrow.”

Then you head for the elevators, putting your phone on do not disturb so that your mother cannot continue to disturb you.

When you reach the last of the resort’s three pools, you spot your brother first, sitting on the pool’s edge with his legs in the water. You sit down next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against his sun-warmed arm.

“Thank you for not being a horrible sibling,” you say, releasing him.

He blinks at you, surprised by this display. You and Soonyoung are close, definitely - but this isn’t a common occurrence.

“It was that bad, huh?” he asks, as Chan approaches with one of those umbrella drinks in hand.

You sigh. “Not really. Just. Made me appreciate you.”

“Well,” Soonyoung grins, “I appreciate the appreciation.”

Seungcheol swims over, pushing his wet hair out of his face. “Hey,” he says. “How’d it go?”

You shrug. “I survived. Did I miss anything fun?”

“Just this,” he says, placing his palms on the hot cement next to where you’re seated and pushing himself up out of the water to plop down next to you, water dripping from him and running underneath your legs.

“You want a drink?” he asks, and when you turn to look at him he’s looking at you so seriously, brows furrowed, as if he’s scanning you for wounds.

He may have found one. You suddenly feel choked with emotion under his investigative gaze, and you look away before he can see it on your face.

“Yeah,” you manage. “Actually, a beer sounds fucking amazing right now. Thanks.”

The concern gone from his face, he sends you a quick wink as he stands, still dripping pool water. “Anything for my baby.”

You groan, leaning against your chuckling brother again. “He’s enjoying this too much,” you complain as he walks away. You do not watch the muscles across his back ripple as he walks away.

When he’s out of sight, you sigh heavily. “Mom’s mad at me,” you tell Soonyoung. “Because I didn’t go get drinks with them after nails. But I really, really would rather be here with you guys.”

He gives your knee one quick, sympathetic pat. “Sorry,” he says, and you know he means it but doesn’t get it, because she never does this to him.

“It’s okay,” you say glumly. “She’ll get over it.”

“I think we were actually going to go upstairs soon?” Your brother says this like a question; he’s scared it’s going to upset you - you can tell. “We both wanted to nap a little before rehearsal dinner tonight.”

Your heart sinks. You wonder if Seungcheol will have the same plan, leaving you alone for the rest of the afternoon. The thought depresses you further. But when Seungcheol returns, he has two beers in hand, so he must be planning on staying for a little.

“My brother and his date -”

“Roommate!”

“-are abandoning me,” you tell him. “To snuggle.”

“Take naps in separate beds!”

“Would you like to go snuggle?” Seungcheol asks you seriously, handing over your beer.

You groan in exasperation. “No,” you assert. “I want to stay here, drinking until I’m not annoyed at every single family member I have. I just wanted to know what your plan is.”

Seungcheol nods, clearly amused at your ranting, one eyebrow raised and mouth turned down in mock-consideration.

“Well, I guess,” he says, finally, coming to take his spot next to you on the pool deck, “as your boyfriend, I better stay and help you get unannoyed.”

“Teasing me is a step in the wrong direction,” you mutter, but to be honest, the banter is kind of fun. A healthy outlet for your annoyance, really.

“I did get you a beer,” he points out.

“That was helpful,” you agree.

To your right, Chan and Soonyoung have both toweled off and gathered their stuff; they stand waiting to say goodbye. You agree on what time to meet in the lobby to head to rehearsal dinner and then they waddle off in matching slides. You watch them go forlornly, and then turn back to the sparkling pool.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” you tell Seungcheol, just in case. “If you want to go rest before tonight or something, feel free.”

His whole face scrunches. “Will you quit trying to get rid of me? I’m trying to enjoy sitting poolside with a beer and a pretty girl.”

You feel yourself flush. “You don’t have to say that when no one’s here to hear it,” you mutter, embarrassed and pleased.

“Eh,” he says, as if he isn’t so bothered by whether or not you have witnesses. “It’s true, so why shouldn’t I say it?”

“Well, thanks,” you say to your knees, swishing your feet around in the water self-consciously.

“Do you want to talk about what pissed you off?” he offers.

You sigh. “It’s nice of you to ask, but no - I’d rather just have fun and enjoy my afternoon with you.”

You sit in silence for a few minutes. Then, you ask, “Will you watch my beer for a minute? I want to cool off.”

“‘Course,” he says, going so far as to pull your plastic cup closer to his own, as if to guard it.

You slip into the water, which feels wonderful after you’ve gotten warm under the unrelenting sunshine. You tread for a minute, then slip beneath the surface and push hard off the wall into a streamlined glide. You kick and pull all the way across, then surface with a splash, pushing your hair out of your face. You tread on that side for a minute until a couple of kids splash too close to you, and you move closer to the middle and roll to float on your back. Above you, the sky spans uninterrupted blue in every direction.

You’re surprised by fingers touching your wrist and you sit up, turning to see Seungcheol has joined you.

“Who’s watching the beer?” you ask, feigning indignation.

“I finished them,” he laughs. “The water looked good.”

“It is good,” you sigh happily. “I want to live here. Do you think someone would bankroll me to just live at a beach resort year-round?”

He laughs again. “I’m sure someone would, if you tried the right website,” he jokes.

You grin. “I could be a sugar baby. I’d be great at it.”

“You would not,” he says, starting to paddle away from you. “You can’t control your attitude. Those guys want a sugar baby, not a spice baby.”

You follow him, trailing by a few feet. “They want a spice baby sometimes.”

“You don’t pick the right moments,” he tells you, treading water near the spot you’d been sitting before. Your beer cup, as he said, sits empty next to his.

“I can’t believe you drank my beer,” you complain.

“See?” he says, raising that eyebrow again. “Spice baby.”

This makes you laugh, because damn, he’s right.

“So,” he says suddenly, reaching up to grip the edge of the deck, holding himself in place instead of treading. His voice strikes you as suddenly deeper, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination. “Am I boyfriending okay?”

The smile is on your face before you can even fully process the question. “So far so good,” you tell him, smiling warmly, delighted by the bit. “I thought breakfast with my mom was particularly strong Boyfriending.”

He nods, feigning humility. “I did try,” he deadpans.

“It was commendable, especially for a novice,” you tell him.

He narrows his eyes at you, but there’s not much heat behind it. “I’m not a novice boyfriend,” he argues. “I was with Jieun for -”

“Not to be a total spice baby about this,” you say, holding up a hand to stop him mid-thought, “but you have to calculate by uninterrupted dating time. What’s the longest you two went without breaking up?”

You swear he flushes a little, but it could be the sun or the beer causing the tips of his ears to go red.

“Five months,” he mutters, looking away from you to pick a leaf out of the water.

“And how many of those five were things actually good?”

His head snaps up, and you can see all over his face how he’s ready to fight.

“No judgement,” you add quickly. “My point is only that… it’s different to Boyfriend during a rocky five months where you’re constantly cycling between fighting and making up, and to be years into something steady. The roles are different.”

His face has gone stony. “I didn’t realize you had so many opinions about my love life.”

“I don’t,” you say, as gently as you can, but your pulse is racing; you hadn’t meant to piss him off or hurt his feelings. You try your best to do damage control. “I just have a lot of opinions about the right way to Boyfriend after the eight month mark. There are rules.”

You can almost watch him weigh the moment in his mind, deciding if he wants to lean into his hurt feelings or if he wants to let you off the hook.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and push on when he looks surprised. “I wasn’t trying to, like… make a statement about you guys. I’m sorry it came out that way, and I’m sorry if it made you upset. I’ll watch what I say better.”

His stare is absolutely blank, a hint of petulance still on his almost-pouting lips.

“People in long-term relationships have to own their mistakes,” you tell him sagely. “And apologize, and take steps to do better. That’s one of the rules.”

He continues to stare at you like you’ve sprouted an extra limb. Then, he laughs a little, shaking his head. “So you’re the expert now?”

You push back the defensive wave that rises in you. “Out of the two of us,” you say, shrugging. “My last relationship was over two years.”

His mouth twists as he considers this. “I didn’t like that guy,” he says off-handedly, as if he’d forgotten. Maybe he had. “So, why’d it end, if you’re such a pro?”

This sobers you a little. “Oh,” you say, and you hate how you can hear how small your voice is. “It was…”

He moves suddenly, pressing closer, reaching out. “No, I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “You don’t have to tell me. That was douchey.”

You smile, a little relieved. “I feel like it’s only fair,” you say. “I broke up with him because… it was two years, but I just never felt secure, you know? I never felt like… he was it, and I definitely didn’t ever get the sense he felt that way about me, either. It was just kind of… fine? And I…”

You lift your eyes to meet his, darkly watching you, the water around you glinting white in the bright sun. “I wanted more,” you admit quietly. “It was selfish, probably, but… I wanted to love someone, like… I wanted to be in the kind of love that makes you crazy, that you make bad decisions for, where you miss them before they even leave - that all-consuming, stupid love. I never felt, like, wild stupid in love with him.”

He gives a wry laugh, and when you look up at him he’s peering off at the horizon, where the sun is beginning to descend over the ocean. “That’s funny,” he says, something acidic in his tone that you’ve never heard before. “I feel like I’ve only had the bad-decision, stupid thing. I don’t even know what it’s like to have something… calm. Or sensible.”

Sensible. What a boring word. What a boring way to love.

“I think it’d be really refreshing to level up to questionable decisions instead of dumpster-fire ones,” he adds, smiling that half-smile you’re coming to recognize.

“Questionable decisions do sound better,” you agree, smiling back.

You tread closer, the water bobbing with the movement of other swimmers and pushing you closer than you’d intended. Your fingers brush his arm innocently as you both work to stay afloat. The air between you feels charged; for a second, you think about kissing him again.

Instead, you push yourself back up to the pool deck, laying back and relishing in the warmth from the cement seeking into your water-chilled skin. There’s a splash and a shadow over you for just a second, letting you know that your fake boyfriend has joined you.

“I think,” you say to the sky, “I’m gonna lay out until I’m dry, and then head up to shower."

“I’m gonna go replace your beer,” Seungcheol says, and you look over to see the little smile he sports. “And get my own.”

“Don’t overdo it,” you warn. “We’re gonna need a lot of alcohol to get through tonight. Or I am, anyway. Gotta pace ourselves.”

“I’m good. I only had like a third of yours,” he assures you, before lumbering off again. When he returns, you’re stretched out on one of the loungers, reaching for the cup he offers you. He settles on the lounger next to yours, and a minute later you feel him poke your arm as he offers an earbud, as he had in the airport.

You take it gratefully, and for the next hour you don’t speak, only sit in companionable silence, sipping at amber liquid, watching the blue sky, listening to a thundering bassline against the rhythmic crash of ocean waves.

You think you might feel happy.

—

You take a while getting ready, and when you finally relinquish the bathroom, Seungcheol is out on the balcony, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey,” you say, poking your head through the doorway, “bathroom’s all yours.”

He closes whatever he’d had open and turns, and you’re surprised to see a look akin to anger on his face before he schools it, shooting you a belated smile.

“Okay,” he says, rising. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, without really thinking it through.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m gonna go shower, if you’re done in there.”

He pushes past you, and you take a step back to give him room. He disappears into the bathroom, the door closing with a definitive click.

You settle carefully on the bed and start scrolling through social media to pass the time. You had posted a picture of the beach earlier, and you check the few comments your friends have left you before scrolling the new posts on your feed. You smile to yourself when you see that Seungcheol had posted an almost identical picture, coupled with a selfie in which his wet hair is pushed back from his face and his eyes are closed in laughter.

There’s one comment underneath, from an account that couldn’t be anybody else: Jieun.

“gorgeous,” she’d written, and nothing else.

Seungcheol doesn’t emerge from the bathroom until four minutes until go-time, and you’re standing near the doorway fastening the straps on your heels. He stops short as he takes in your appearance.

“You look nice,” he says, a little haltingly.

“Thanks,” you say. But you’re thinking about that instagram comment. You’re wondering if that’s why he’d looked mad when you’d called him inside.

It doesn’t matter, you know. This isn’t real. But you’re curious. What’s the deal with the two of them - what does it mean that she’s showing up in his comments? Is he happy to hear from her? Or is this a sign of trouble for him?

You don’t know how to ask. You’ve never talked about this stuff with him. And what if he thought you were bringing it up out of jealousy?

You ruminate on this the whole time you’re in the car with Soonyoung and Chan - who chatter cluelessly the whole time - heading for the venue.

You’re among the first to arrive; your mother and Nayoung and a handsome man who must be her fiancé stand outside the front doors, deep in conversation when your Uber pulls up. You slide out first, followed by Seungcheol and the younger guys.

Nayoung beams at you and Soonyoung as you approach. “Guys! I’d like you to finally meet my fiancé, Jeongwoo.”

You ignore the finally, shove down the defensive voice that says whose fault is it that we’re only meeting him now?

Instead, you show your teeth like a good girl and move to shake his hand, but he moves with clear intention for a quick hug. You adjust quickly, patting his shoulder lightly and pulling away.

“Great to meet you,” you say, as warmly as you can manage. You introduce yourself and then Seungcheol, who reaches forward to successfully shake hands. Soonyoung and Chan do the same.

“Which one’s actually the younger brother?” Jeongwoo asks, looking at Soonyoung and Chan with uncertainty.

“Both of them, really,” you joke, and then you realize that for Nayoung that simply isn’t true. As much as Chan has been like your second brother since the first week of his undergrad, this is her first time meeting him. It strikes you again, as it often does, how differently you and Nayoung experience this family.

“I am,” Soonyoung says, saving you from the moment.

“Ah, I see it now,” Jeongwoo says kindly. “You have Nayoung’s smile.”

“Should we go in?” your mother asks, just as another car pulls into the parking lot. You all pause, waiting to see if it’s another member of your party.

It is.

Everything leaves your head - Seungcheol’s bad mood earlier, his ex on his instagram, Nayoung’s absence in your life, the weirdness of meeting her almost-husband. You’re left with nothing but static as your father walks around the front of his parked car and opens the passenger door for his date.

Your mother’s hand slips into yours and squeezes tight.

You squeeze back. For all her bullshit, for all the times you get annoyed with her, she’s yours and you love her, and you know this is shitty for her. You know the family blames her, and you know more than they do how much the ruined marriage was a two-person job. You were there to witness it all.

He strides over, and you squint at the date he brought. She’s expensive-pretty, and young - probably not too much older than Nayoung. Don’t be judgy, you think to yourself. Don’t be judgy.

He hugs Nayoung for a long time, long enough that you wonder if he’s been more present in her life than yours since the divorce. Was the split two sides, not three as you’d always thought? Was it Nayoung and Dad versus the rest of you? How had you not known that, for all these years?

When he disentangles himself with Nayoung, he gives Jeongwoo a firm clap on the back and it’s immediately clear that, yes, they have met before. You keep your mother’s hand firmly in yours, squeezing tight. You feel Seungcheol shift behind you, not far from your side.

Your father moves to Soonyoung next, making a fuss over your brother’s muscular build. Something sour simmers in you and it surprises you. You’d known you were mad at Nayoung for leaving you all behind. You hadn’t really examined if the sentiment carried over to your father, too. Apparently it had.

You talk on the phone about as much as you talk to your mother… and sure, you see him on most holidays, way more than you see Nayoung. But still. He had left, too, hadn’t he?

When he hugs you, it takes you a second before you can force yourself to return it, your mother stepping backwards to give you room, to put space between herself and the man who’d left her - or whom she’d driven away, depending on who you asked. Or both.

When he releases you, you turn to Seungcheol, ready to introduce him. You find him watching this exchange with a peculiar look on his face, as if he’s doing calculations in his head - and you really don’t know if you’ll like the answer he gets.

“Dad, this is my boyfriend, Seungcheol,” you say quietly, and Seungcheol steps forward, clasping hands. There’s something hard and unreadable on his face as he shakes your father’s hand, no sign of the warm, dimpled smile he usually sports.

“Boyfriend, eh?” your dad says, and you watch his eyes flick over Seungcheol, evaluating. You feel weirdly protective, like you want to step between them. Which is stupid, because Seungcheol isn’t yours, and he doesn’t need protection from anyone even if he were.

“Nice to meet you,” Seungcheol says, his tone as hard as his expression.

Your father responds to this with a hmm that makes your blood start to boil. “I’m sure we’ll have the opportunity to talk later and get to know each other better,” he says, and to you - and probably no one else - it sounds like a threat.

Then he turns to your mother, saying her name flatly and extending a hand. They shake, and you again fight the urge to step between them. You aren’t used to this - wanting to protect everyone from the potential to wound each other. You haven’t felt this way since before the split, when the fighting was at its worst, and you’d only had your brother to protect back then. You’d put years and distance between yourself and this impulse, and it feels dizzying to be back in it so completely.

Your father introduces his date to your mother - he hadn’t for any of you kids - and you watch her smile tighten as she fights to remain gracious, reaching out to shake hands.

Seungcheol steps closer to you, wraps an arm around your shoulders, and pulls you against his side. “It’s okay,” he says, tucking his head closer to yours and speaking so quietly that no one else could possibly hear him. “It’s not your job to fix it.”

You look up at him, sideways. This moment of kindness, of soothing, is real, is from him - your friend Seungcheol. Not fake-boyfriend Seungcheol. (But it is still really good Boyfriending.)

You nod once, giving him a thankful nudge with your shoulder. He gives you a quick squeeze, but keeps his arm around you for show. You glance around, but Nayoung has her back to you now, talking to her fiancé. Soonyoung and Chan are both on their phones, side by side like oblivious bookends.

“I need a drink,” you mutter, and Seungcheol’s mouth quirks.

“Should we go in?” he asks the group, and Nayoung turns at the sound of his question.

“Oh,” she says, sounding a bit lost. “Sure, let’s head in. Everyone else is on their way.”

The restaurant staff inside lead you to a side-room which Nayoung has clearly rented out for the night. The table is set with place cards, and you find your name between Seungcheol’s and your mother’s. You set your purse on the chair and look around, finding the bar and making your way over. You glance over your shoulder to see where Seungcheol is. He’s hanging his suit jacket on the back of the chair next to yours, chatting casually with Chan on the other side of the table. It’s the happiest you’ve seen him look tonight, so you leave him alone.

At the bar, you order a beer for him and a cocktail for yourself, leaning on your elbows as you wait. Someone comes up behind you, close, and whispers in your ear, “Can you believe the nerve of him, showing up with a practical teenager? What’s he trying to prove, that he’s a big man?”

You close your eyes and take a breath. “I don’t think he’s trying to prove anything,” you say as neutrally as possible. “But I’m sure it feels very weird and uncomfortable for you, and I’m sorry.”

All those eldest daughter memes leave something out. If the real eldest daughter moves out at eighteen and leaves the middle daughter in the house, then the middle daughter gets the Mom’s Therapist responsibilities.

She continues to mutter next to you as she waits for the bartender to bring her glass of wine; you nod and mhm and pat her hand until your two drinks come.

“I’m bringing Seungcheol his beer,” you say. “I’ll be at the table - you’re sitting next to me.”

She stops her litany of complaints and nods at you, letting you go. You make your way to the guys, pressing yourself up next to Seungcheol and holding out his beer.

He looks surprised as he takes the glass from you. “Thanks,” he says. “You didn’t need to do that.”

You shrug. “Sure I did.” Then, thinking of how he’d been teasing you this whole time, you add, “Gotta take care of my man, don’t I?” You give a playful head tilt as you say this, feeling a smirk on your lips.

“I think I just puked,” Soonyoung complains.

Seungcheol’s smile crawls across his face like he’s not sure it’s safe, like he can’t believe you’re playing along with his little game. “I appreciate that,” he says, and there’s something new to his tone, something lower that makes your navel tug.

More guests have arrived and you know none of them - Jeongwoo’s family members, probably, and maybe some of the couple’s friends and coworkers. The room fills with people and noise, and you feel yourself relax a little as you lose track of everyone except the three young men you’re sticking close to. But, maybe an hour in, you catch sight of your mother - standing alone, mostly empty wine glass in hand, looking around the room like she’s lost.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you murmur to Seungcheol, stepping away before he can ask any questions.

“Hi,” you say simply as you stand next to her.

“Hello,” she says evenly, but you can see the relief in her shoulders. “Are you having a nice time?”

You shrug. “You know I don’t like events like this. Too many people. Too much small talk.”

She gives a knowing mm, eyes scanning the room behind you. “You father certainly seems like he fits into this crowd,” she observes lightly, but you hear the accusation behind it. Nayoung has let him into her world, and your mother is realizing she’s on the outside, just like you.

“He lives closer,” you try to rationalize, though you don’t know why you do it. Seungcheol’s words echo in your mind - it’s not your job to fix it. But you want to anyway.

“It doesn’t matter if you know all their work friends,” you say firmly. “Nayoung loves you. You’ll always be important to her.”

Your mother looks away, suddenly misty-eyed, reaching out and squeezing your bicep gratefully.

You glance over your shoulder to check on Seungcheol, but he’s still with Soonyoung, so you stay put. You stand in silence for a little, just so she won’t be alone.

“Jeongwoo seems nice,” you say finally.

“He’s a good man,” she agrees, turning to look at where Nayoung and Jeongwoo stand close together, talking to an older couple - maybe his parents. “She did alright for herself, even after everything.”

This confuses you. “After everything? What everything?”

She sighs, drains her glass. “Ah. You were there - you know already. Things were so ugly at the house… I’m not blaming anyone… but she left as soon as she could to get away from it all. We put her through college financially, of course, but she didn’t have the emotional support she should have; we were both very distracted by our own mess. I regret it very much. Those years are so formative, and she was all alone. I’m proud of what she made for herself.”

You don’t know what to say. You hadn’t thought about it like that at all. And you wonder, but won’t ask, if she’s proud of you and Soonyoung - for standing witness to the burning rubble of your family unit, for holding up the frame of the collapsing house for as long as you could, for keeping each other going when home became a warzone. You both grew up from that - moved on and made lives for yourselves, too.

It isn’t worth it. Not here, not now.

“She seems really happy,” you say, instead, because it’s the most appropriate thing you can. “I’m going to find the bathroom real quick. Do you want another glass when I get back?”

In the bathroom, you place both palms flat on the counter and heave a breath, shoulders sagging and head flopping forward. When the door creaks open behind you and someone says your name, you almost swear out loud.

It’s Nayoung, and she slips into the restroom, letting the door close behind her.

“Hey… is Mom okay?” she asks quietly.

You stare at her, weighing your choices for an answer. “Don’t worry about Mom,” you say finally. “It’s your weekend. I’ve got her. She’s fine - everything’s fine.”

She stares back, like she’s trying to decide if you’re lying - like she’s trying to decide if she should let you shoulder this responsibility. “Okay. Thanks,” she says finally. “If you need me, let me know.”

I needed you fifteen years ago, you think, but, god, maybe it’s time you let it go. It is what it is - you can’t go back and neither can she. Maybe you all just did your best in a shitty situation.

“I will,” you say.

She nods again and slips back out through the door as quietly as she’d come. You take another minute, check your reflection, and rub absently at the backs of your heels. Your shoes are killing you, blisters forming on both feet. You check the time and calculate how many more hours you’ll have to power through the pain. Too many, it seems. You sigh heavily, give your heel one last sympathetic rub, and then rejoin the party.

You scan the room for Seungcheol, knowing you’ve been away from him for a while and should probably check on him. You find him quickly, in the far corner of the room, still standing with Soonyoung. But now they’re joined by your father.

“Oh shit,” you blurt, and beeline for them.

“Ah!” Your father says cheerily when you sidle up to Seungcheol again, reaching a hand around his waist and pressing up against his side, your spare hand coming to rest lightly over his stomach. “There she is!”

“Sorry, I was with Mom,” you say. “Everyone good here? You need anything?” You direct this question up at Seungcheol, who smiles down at you.

That is not his normal smile. That is not his happy smile. He, like you, is baring his teeth and doing his best to hide the threat in it.

Your stomach sinks. You wonder what you missed.

“The guys were just catching me up,” your father tells you. “I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“Yeah,” you say, giving a little awkward laugh. “We were trying not to put a lot of pressure on it at the beginning, and then… I don’t know, time just passed, right? And here we are. It felt weird to, like… announce it.”

Your father clicks his tongue. “You’d think it would come up over the course of a year.”

“Less than a year,” you point out unhelpfully.

“For what it’s worth, sir,” Seungcheol says, and something in you sits up straight in alarm, “I’ve been around for a lot longer than that. Since college, actually. I was there when she graduated with honors, and I was there when we all cooked to celebrate when she started at her job. I was there helping Soonyoung get her sofa up the stairs when she moved apartments after her first promotion, too.”

He says this very off-handedly, looking sideways at you, but the lightness of his tone is a lie that’s meant to be seen through. You all hear, loud and clear, the end of his thought: you, her father, weren’t there for any of that.

And he’s right - about both parts. Seungcheol has been in the periphery of your life for years now… you just hadn’t really given him much thought. And your father… he’d been around, but he hadn’t been there.

Across from you, Soonyoung’s eyes are wide. Next to him, Chan is literally pressing his hand against his mouth, eyes dancing between the two men.

Your father clears his throat. “She’s lucky to have good friends,” he says, sidestepping the dig.

“It’s not luck,” Seungcheol says, his hand tightening almost uncomfortably on your waist, “that she’s surrounded by people who love her. It’s because of who she is.”

“Cheol,” you murmur, reproach and apology both present in your voice.

He turns to look at you, and seems to snap out of it. “I’m sorry,” he says, giving your father a quick bow. “What I mean is, you raised two great people. I hope you see that.”

“We need some air,” you interrupt. You don’t wait, don’t apologize, don’t look back. You grab Seungcheol’s hand and tug him towards the doors that lead to a small, outdoor patio.

“Holy fuck,” you say, as soon as the doors close behind you. Outside, night has fallen, the sky the mottled purple of late sunset and early dusk.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, grabbing for your hand like he’s scared you’re going to take off and leave him there to think about what he’s done. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have popped off. I just got mad - I have been around for all those things, all these pieces of your life, and he wasn’t there for any of it. How does he get off demanding answers from you?”

“It’s okay,” you say, though you’ll probably have to answer for this at some point. “It’s fine. This is just… this is just what they do.”

He sighs heavily, rubs a hand down his face. “It’s not okay. I’m supposed to be making this weekend easier for you, not causing problems. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say again, voice almost a whisper. You feel raw, coming down from the rush of adrenaline, hands shaking a little at your sides.

He notices.

“Hey,” he says gently. “God. I’m sorry.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around you. This isn’t fake-boyfriend Seungcheol, either - there are no witnesses, no one to fool. But you let him envelop you, and you take a shuddering breath in the safety of his shirt.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, voice low. “I’m sorry, really - I’ll go back in and apologize -”

“It’s fine, stop apologizing to me,” you say, swatting at his ribs lightly. “He deserved it. And I’m fine.”

To prove this, you step back out of his embrace, looking up at him so he can see your face.

“Your family is intense,” he tells you seriously. “I should have known, how else do you end up with someone as crazy as Soonyoung?”

This makes you laugh. “Is my need for emotional support making a lot more sense to you now? You haven’t even met the jackals - they won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“Honestly,” he says, leaning against the stone balustrade, “it really is.”

You both go quiet for a minute, listening to the distant crickets and frogs, the sound of muted laughter from inside. You take the opportunity to lean heavily on the low wall beside you, slipping a finger beneath the offending shoe-strap over your heels, loosening each, wincing as you do.

Seungcheol watches you silently, plump lips downturned.

“That was some very good Boyfriending,” you point out as you adjust the other shoe. “Very believable.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” he admits. “That just came out.”

“You’re a natural, then.”

“You’d think I’d have a better track record to show for it,” he says darkly, and the reference to Jieun sends you both back to silence.

“You really have been around for a lot of stuff,” you muse eventually, to move you on from the moment. “I never really thought about that.”

He sends you a wry smile. “Crazy, right? College feels like yesterday, when we would all be squeezed into Seungkwan’s dorm since he had the best tv.”

You smile, remembering. “We barely fit in there. I always ended up on someone’s lap, and not in a sexy way.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrow. “Not mine.”

“Jieun would have beat my ass. Or keyed my car.”

“That’s… probably true. Sorry.”

You shrug - it’s ancient history, and a bit funny now with the years to soften the edges.

“Do you remember that one Halloween?” he asks.

You know instantly which one he means. You and Seungcheol’s senior year, Soonyoung’s junior year, and Chan’s sophomore year you’d gone with the rest of the guys on a Halloween pub crawl in the city.

The group had split up into three after the fourth bar. Joshua, Vernon, Seungkwan, and Mingyu had continued on with the pub crawl, shouting raucous goodbyes into the night as they followed the crowd onto bar number five. The rest of you had gotten into three different cabs to head back to campus.

You’d ended up in a cab with Seokmin, Seungcheol, and Jieun - who at the time, was definitely still his girlfriend. They’d been wasted - you all were - and they’d been arguing next to you in the back seat. Seokmin had turned around from the front passenger seat and looked at you, wide-eyed, as you both witnessed the shouting and crying going on next to you.

Back at the dorm, it was clear that the cab with Soonyoung, Chan, and Jeonghan had arrived before you. Soonyoung had greeted you at the door, face drawn, with, “Chan’s throwing up.”

This was quickly evidenced by the sound of heaving from the small, dorm bathroom.

Behind you, still in the hallway, Jieun was screaming at Seungcheol, “And what about last week, when you didn’t text me for two whole days?”

He shouted back, “What did you need me to text you for? Wasn’t Rob from Econ class enough company for you?”

You covered your face, feeling the ghost-white face paint sticky against your palms. “Where did Hannie go?”

“Back to his room to sleep,” Soonyoung tells you, then turns to peer into the bathroom to check on Chan. “Chan, dude, stay by the toilet, don’t come out here -”

“Alright!” You’d called out, voice carrying, clapping your hands once for emphasis. Everyone went still and quiet. Probably shocked. You weren’t a yeller. “Lee Chan, get your body back to the toilet and don’t leave until noona tells you to, got it? You two -” you pointed at your brother and Seokmin - “are in charge of him. You two -” this, you directed at the couple still standing furiously in the hallway, “you need to come have this fight inside before someone calls campus security on you. Let’s go. Inside.”

Your sudden yelling seemed to snap everyone out of it. The guys shuffled into the cramped bathroom to babysit the baby, and Seungcheol glowered as he led his lady friend into the dorm, sulking behind him.

“Okay,” you’d said, mostly to yourself. “The rest of the guys should be back here any minute. Let’s just put on a movie or something and all relax.” You crossed the dorm - Soonyoung’s, but you were there enough that it felt like home to you, too - and dug some water bottles out of the mini-fridge.

“Here,” you said, handing a bottle to Seokmin, who was hanging in the bathroom’s doorway, unable to fully fit inside with Chan and Soonyoung. “Make him take small sips. You have one too.”

You turned to get more for the rest of the room - Seungcheol and Jieun - only to find them on the couch. He was seated, feet planted wide on the floor, and she was straddling him, body pressed tight to his front. His hands were up the back of her shirt and her hips rocked noticeably as they kissed.

Your hand flew to cover your eyes. “Maybe,” you had said loudly, hoping it would get through to them even in this drunken state, “if you two are going to make up now, you might want to go to that in your own dorm instead of my brother’s common room?”

You uncovered your eyes when you heard them shuffle close to you. Sure enough, they were on their way out. Jieun gave you a nasty side-eye as she passed, but Seungcheol had the sense to look a little embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he slipped by you.

You’d texted Jihoon - “you guys almost back?” - and went to check on the bathroom crew.

The aftermath of the night had rippled out. It was the night that cemented Chan and Soonyoung’s close friendship, one of those things you come out stronger for. Seungcheol and Jieun had broken up for two weeks and then got back together for three more.

And the guys in the third cab, who didn’t make it back to campus until sometime the next day, had somehow ended up in international waters on a boat forging a lasting friendship with a billionaire named Big Jerry. They still talk sometimes. It was a whole thing.

Now, years later, you say, “How could I forget? I can’t believe none of us got arrested that night. Or alcohol poisoning.”

“I think Chan technically did have alcohol poisoning,” Seungcheol points out. “God, we were all such a mess. That was me and Jieun at our fucking worst.”

Me and Jieun. It sounds so natural coming off of his tongue, a phrase he’s said a million times.

The moment feels heavy, now that he put it out there. You’re not sure if you should let the moment pass, or press on it. You decide, after everything he’s been through for you today, to risk it.

“I saw she showed up on your instagram today,” you say, trying to keep your voice light, free from accusation. “Is that… normal?”

His face twists with annoyance, but you don’t think it’s at you. “She shows up like that every few months, I guess,” he admits.

You wait him out, unsure if he has more to say. When he doesn’t follow this up, you tentatively venture, “Does it bug you? Or…?”

He shrugs. You wait. You know he’ll answer.

“Yes and no,” he finally says. “I get… it pisses me off sometimes, the way she shows up when I’m good, when I’m happy, like she can’t stand that she’s not part of it. But when we’re together, she could give a shit if I’m happy.”

You stay silent. You’ve wondered often about their on-again-off-again thing - mostly wondering why either of them would go back at all, after you’ve witnessed firsthand how bad things seem when they’re together. Your whole group of friends has watched time and time again as they repeated the cycle: great for a few weeks, a few weeks of fighting, a loud breakup, a few weeks of bitter silence, and repeat.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” you say quietly, after a few minutes. “It shouldn’t be like that. Whoever you’re with… they should want you all the time, not just when they feel, like, fomo or whatever.”

“Is that one of your long-term relationship rules?”

“No,” you say meekly, responding automatically to the bite in his voice. “I think it’s just… true.”

Just common sense, is what you wanted to say.

He shakes his head a little, his gaze far away. “You think it’s possible?” he asks. “You watched your parents break up - I did, too, with mine. You think there’s actually an ending, for anybody, that isn’t just hating each other?”

“Yeah,” you admit. You don’t even have to think about it. Despite everything you witnessed growing up, you really do believe in happy endings, in lasting partnership. Maybe it isn’t promised, maybe it means effort. But still. “I do.”

He gives a soft huff of a self-deprecating laugh. “I wish I could. Maybe then I could say no to her. But most of the time… she feels like the ending I deserve.”

You move closer, sadness weighing you down. “Everyone deserves to be happy, Seungcheol. Including you. Including her.”

He shoots you a sideways look like he doesn’t believe you, but doesn’t argue. Instead, he glances back at the lit-up windows behind you. “Should we head back in?”

“Probably,” you say. “Though I’m much happier out here.”

“Come on,” he says, cajoling. “Let’s go in, or we’ll miss dessert.”

Inside, he walks ahead of you and goes straight to your father. You follow at a clip, heart pounding, your eyes on your father’s tight face - he won’t be taking an insult twice.

“I’m sorry for how I acted before,” Seungcheol says seriously. “I just get protective when it comes to her. It makes me… kind of crazy.”

The kind of love that makes you crazy, you’d said earlier, at the pool.

He reaches backwards as he says this, reaching for you even though he can’t see you, as though he can sense you coming near.

As you take his hand, let him pull you closer, you’re struck by how much you could believe the lie he’s saying.

—

You survive the rest of the night. You stay quiet in the car back to the resort. You feel your brother watching you carefully, but he doesn’t say anything. Back at the resort you say goodnight quietly and head to the room. You don’t talk much as you take turns showering.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, mentally organizing what you need to have ready for the wedding tomorrow, when there’s a quiet knock on the door. Seungcheol’s closer, so he opens it, letting Soonyoung in.

“Hi,” your brother says. “I just wanted to check on you?”

There’s a second where you almost ask him why, almost deny that you need checked on. Then, you shake your head, eyes rolling in frustration at your whole existence. “Tonight was a lot. Mom’s a mess, Dad’s a jerk… Nayoung’s oblivious…”

Soonyoung frowns at you. “One more day to go?” he says, his voice hopeful. You know he just wants to help. But now, in the safety of your room, the events of the evening seem to come crashing down around you. The pressure you’d been holding up finally crushes you, and you cover your face with your hands and take a shuddery breath.

“It’s fine,” you say automatically, before anyone can react. “It’s fine. I just need to get some sleep, get through tomorrow, and go the fuck home.”

There’s a tense silence above you, and then - inexplicably - Seungcheol says, “I’ve got it, bro. You can go to bed.”

Got what? you think, lifting your head, but you already know. You. He’s got you, even here in the privacy of the room where there’s no one to see it.

When Soonyoung is finally convinced enough to head back to his own room, Seungcheol sits heavily on the edge of the bed next to you.

“I shouldn’t have done this to you,” you say bleakly, all apology. “It’s too much. The family stuff, there’s so much, I didn’t mean to drag you into our mess so badly…”

“It’s really okay,” he assures you, looking over at you seriously. “I’m not part of this, it doesn’t affect me the way it affects you. Don’t worry about me.”

You look at him silently, not believing it.

“Stop worrying about me,” he repeats, this time smiling a little, knowing you’ll be hard to convince.

You shake your head, leaning back. “I’ll try,” you say finally.

“We’re all good,” he promises. “I’m doing what I’m here to do. We’ve got one more tough day, and then you’re free.”

You groan, thinking of the wedding. “God, tomorrow’s gonna suck.”

He slaps at your knee playfully. “You need some rest if you’re gonna make it. Want to watch a movie or something? Until you’re tired?”

You consider this. “That actually sounds nice,” you admit.

He pulls up a streaming service on his phone and hands it to you. “Pick something while I brush my teeth,” he says, and then lopes off to the bathroom.

When he emerges, you’re under the covers, having turned out all the lights except the small one above his nightstand. He slides into his side and reaches for his phone. You start to adjust your pillows so you can see his screen better, but he lifts an arm and smiles over at you.

“Come on, fake girlfriend,” he says, that tease back in his voice. “Come watch the movie with me the right way.”

You hesitate, unsure if this is wise. “Are you sure?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer, just gives the arm he’s still holding open for you a wiggle in invitation.

After an apprehensive moment, you follow directions, sliding closer and laying your head on his chest. He lowers his arm around your shoulders and hits play on his phone screen. You glance up at him a few times, lit up by the phone, his hoodie pulled up over his head, but he’s always dutifully watching the movie, paying no attention to the girl curled up against his side. Eventually, you settle in, relaxing against him, letting your hand rest over his stomach. You can feel it rise and fall with his breathing, can hear his steady heartbeat beneath your ear where you rest.

At some point, you fall asleep this way.

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thank you for reading!!!

#svt #scoups

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whore-anghaereads · 9 days ago

Text

HOT i am normally not here for the plot but i loved this so much. V excited for the rest!

You Think You Might - Chapter 1 || csc

(banner by @itaeewon)

You Think You Might (masterpost) Seungcheol x fem!reader angst smut fluff fake dating!au, kind of sort of exes to lovers? Fake exes to lovers? I guess?

NSFW - minors DNI

WC: 54k total, this chapter 8.5k

Warnings: angst, reader working through some Stuff, language, drinking, Soonyoung is reader’s biological little brother, family drama, kissing, scoups and his ex are mutually toxic when together but neither is villainized, full warning list on the masterpost A/N: thank you to @sailorsoons and @eoieopda for beta-ing, and @kkaetnipjeon for naming almost every background character and teaching me about the Levels of Noona.

May

“Noona? Hello? Are you in there?”

It takes you a second to realize that your little brother Soonyoung is calling you, not snapping out of your reverie until he nudges your knee with his socked foot.

“Huh?” You focus back on the room around you - Soonyoung’s living room, cast in blues from the LEDs along the ceiling’s perimeter and the television, which is currently flashing brightly as his friends Seungcheol and Wonwoo work the controllers in their hands furiously over on the couch. “Sorry, what?”

Soonyoung gives you a little frown. “Chan asked if you want a beer.”

In the kitchen, Chan - Soonyoung’s roommate who is essentially a second little brother to you - waits for your answer, the refrigerator door held ajar.

“Oh. Sure,” you say belatedly. “Thanks.”

Soonyoung’s frown deepens. “You’re being weird today,” he accuses.

“Sorry,” you say immediately, taking a deep drink from the cold beer Chan placed into your hand on his way back to where he’d been sitting. Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo complain loudly - “Yah! Get out of the way!” - as he passes between them and the television screen.

Soonyoung watches your face carefully for a minute, and the scrutiny makes you itch.

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Stop looking at me like that.”

His eyes narrow knowingly. “Is this because of keun-noona?”

He’s got you. Your mind wanders back to the reason you’re so distracted tonight: a thick, silky-feeling, navy blue envelope with silver embossed lettering.

An invitation to your older sister Nayoung’s wedding.

You haven’t seen Nayoung in person in years, nor have the two of you held a conversation of any length since you were a child. A good deal older than you and Soonyoung, she’d moved out for college when you were nine and never looked back.

Part of you doesn’t blame her.

Part of you resents her for getting away before things got bad.

Most of you hates her for including you in the things she chose to leave behind.

You hadn’t opened the invitation, just left it on top of the pile of bills and advertisements, a problem for future you.

“Yes,” you admit. You’re aware of Soonyoung’s friends in the room, but Seungcheol and Wonwoo are deep in their video game and probably not listening.

Chan is, though.

“Are you talking about the fancy wedding?” he asks, perking up.

You roll your eyes. “You got your invite too?” you guess.

The question is for Soonyoung, but Chan answers instead; you’re used to this.

“Yes!” he whines. “I want to go! Did you know she’s paying for the whole family and their dates to stay at the resort? You only have to buy your plane tickets!”

And the dress, and the shoes, and the accessories, and the food, and the drinks, and…

You keep your mouth shut, keep your negativity to yourself. The deal is generous - you’re just salty. “I did know,” you admit. But not because you’d opened the invitation - because your mom had been bragging about it on the phone for weeks now, ever since Nayoung told her the plan.

On the coffee table, a rattling vibration startles everyone, and Seungcheol leans forward to pick up his phone. His expression darkens and he mutters, “Be back in a sec,” before disappearing through the sliding glass door onto Soonyoung and Chan’s tiny balcony, the door sliding closed behind him.

You all exchange looks - you’ve seen this routine for years. Jieun. His on-again-off-again ex, the gift that has kept on giving for years now. You’d all gone to university together, and this was nothing but par-for-the-course.

Chan clears his throat. “Noona, you’re not excited for it? The resort looks really nice.”

You drink more of your beer, suddenly very aware of everyone’s eyes on you. You’ve become the center of attention at guys’ night, and you don’t like it.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you say quietly, lowering your gaze to the carpet beneath you.

Chan opens his mouth like he’s going to push the issue, but Soonyoung interrupts.

“Okay,” he says easily. “Hey, did anyone hear about the comet that’s coming?”

“Oh yeah,” Wonwoo says, snapping his fingers once as he leans forward to join the conversation, since he’d paused the game when Seungcheol stepped out. “I heard about it at work today. They said it’s a once-in-a-lifetime event.”

You send your brother a grateful smile, thankful that he changed the subject for you. Soonyoung is a good kid.

He’s only a year younger than you, but it’s always felt like more. He’s always been your baby brother, yours to protect from everything until he got big enough to fend for himself. Even though he’s taller than you, and weirdly muscular now, it’s hard not to see him as the little boy you’d drag under your bed with you when your parents’ fighting led to door-slamming and plate-breaking.

It was you dragging him away from the noise and the anger, always you - never Nayoung. You held this truth like a bitter little treasure in your greedy hands: you’re the sister who was there with him, you’re the sister who held his hand through it. Where was Nayoung during those fire-fed years? Long gone - off living her new life, away from it all. Away from you. Away from you both.

And now you’re supposed to fly across the fucking ocean to watch her - this sister you text happy birthday once a year to fill your annual communication quota - marry some guy you’ve never even met?

You only know the wedding is across the ocean because it’s all your mother has talked about for the last week: Nayoung’s destination wedding at the beach, and how generous it is of her and her rich fiancé to pay for her family’s stay at the resort, and how beautiful her gown is, and -

Your sullen tirade is interrupted when the sliding glass door opens again, and Seungcheol slinks through, taking his place on the couch and picking up his discarded controller like he’d never even left.

The guys just stare at him, waiting. It takes a minute for him to realize everyone is frozen around him.

“What?” he demands, though there’s not much bite to it. When everyone just stares back at him, he deflates with a sigh. “What?” he repeats, but it’s much more resigned this time.

“You heading out?” It’s Chan who asks this, and so delicately that you’re surprised. Chan isn’t usually the one who handles the delicate conversations. Then again, you’ve always thought Seungcheol had a particularly soft spot for his younger friend.

“In a little bit,” Seungcheol admits, and you can feel the tension in the room, thick and uncomfortable.

“We were talking about the comet,” you pipe up, hoping to diffuse it. “Did you hear about it?”

His eyes flash to you, grateful. Soonyoung had gotten the attention off you minutes ago - you might as well pay it forward.

“Yeah,” he says, as Wonwoo restarts the game they’d paused. “You think we’ll be able to see it from here?”

Soonyoung hums like he’s considering this. “I’m sure we can see it,” he finally says. “But I wouldn’t argue that the view would be better from the countryside.”

“We should rent a place,” you say, though you know it’s a fantasy that won’t come true - Soonyoung’s group of friends (yours, by proxy) have such different schedules and financial situations and travel preferences that they’d never once made any kind of friendcation work out. But it’s nice to imagine getting out of the city together to somewhere slower and quieter, laying out in the grass with the people you’re closest to and watching something that you don’t fully understand pass your little planet by.

“The good places probably booked up weeks ago,” Wonwoo says, not taking his eyes off the tv screen. “Everyone’s gonna have the same idea.”

“True,” you sigh. “Well… it was a fun thought.”

Seungcheol’s phone buzzes on the table again, and he visibly rolls his eyes, jaw tightening. This time he steps out into the hallway instead of the balcony. You can hear his voice, loud and angry, but you can’t make out exactly what’s being said. You don’t need to - this is old news. The only time things are actually calm for Seungcheol are the weeks or months where he and Jieun aren’t speaking. Once they’re speaking, whether they’re actually back together or just fighting again, it’s always like this.

“This is probably it for the night,” Wonwoo says, a little glumly, tilting his chin at the wall that Seungcheol’s phone call is hidden behind. He closes the game they’d been playing and starts looking around to gather his things. “Thanks for the beers.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says easily. He fist-bumps Wonwoo goodbye on his way out. As the door opens you can hear Seungcheol’s voice, loud again, and then it’s gone as the door clicks shut.

You and your brother and Chan look at each other in silence for a second. Then, Chan gives a little sigh and starts picking up discarded beer cans from the table, heading past you into the kitchen.

“Hyung, I’m going to use the shower, okay?” he asks, as he disappears into the kitchen.

“No problem,” Soonyoung says, and waits for Chan to disappear down the narrow hallway before turning back to you. “Did you open it? The invitation?”

“No,” you mutter. “I’m pretending that if I don’t open it, I don’t have to go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Soonyoung says easily, like this is actually true. For him, it could be true. He could get away with not attending. After all, he was only eight when Nayoung moved out; he has even less of a relationship with her than you do.

“I wish that were true,” you grouse. You flop backwards, resuming the position you’d abandoned earlier - starfished on his living-room floor, staring at the ceiling fan. “Mom would never forgive me if I didn’t go.”

Soonyoung watches you, a tiny frown on his face. “Will it really be that bad?” he asks, and you know that he wants to understand but genuinely doesn’t. “At the end of the day, it’s a free stay at a beach resort.”

“It’s different for me,” you explain, not for the first time. “You just get to show up and be the cute baby brother and drink and dance and relax and go home again!”

“And you have to build a village with your bare hands?” He raises an eyebrow.

You toss your empty beer can at his knee, but miss. It skids next to the couch and you both leave it there.

“There’s a lot more pressure on me,” you insist. “Mom doesn’t use you as her emotional crutch the way she does to me. With her and Dad both there… she’s gonna be on her worst behavior, and I’m going to be the one responsible for cleaning it up.”

Your brother grimaces. “I’ll try to help,” he offers. “I can try to keep Dad on the other side.”

You purse your lips to display your doubt that this will be enough - but it’s nice of him to try, so you don’t say anything contrary. Instead, you add, “Plus all the distant family - people ask you about college, and your dance crew, and what you want to do next. They ask me why I’m not married with two kids. Like something’s wrong with me.”

Soonyoung winces. He knows it’s true.

You heave a frustrated growl, getting yourself worked up as you imagine the days of family events leading up to the wedding. “When I show up dateless…” You trail off. You don’t even have a good description for how all the aunties and cousins will treat you. You wish you could just be invisible - there in spirit, but immune to the looks and backhanded compliments.

There’s also a sick, tiny part of you that wants to show up Nayoung - look, I turned out great. Look, it doesn’t matter that you left us, I have everything I want. Look, I did just fine without you, look how good I’m doing.

Soonyoung shrugs. “Bring a date, then. Bring Chan!” He snaps his fingers like he’s just solved every problem.

You give him a look. “That’s worse. Can he even drink legally?”

Chan’s voice, muffled, floats down the hallway, shouting something defensive.

“Okay, not Chan then.” Soonyoung is eternally unbothered. “But, seriously - bring someone! They’ll be a lot more chill if you’re there with a boyfriend.”

You hadn’t heard Soonyoung’s door open again, but suddenly Seungcheol is flopping back onto his spot on the couch, his expression dark. You feel yourself flush immediately, embarrassed that he may have heard any of this conversation, and you try to shoot Soonyoung a warning look to drop it.

Unfortunately, the damage is done.

“Boyfriend?” Seungcheol repeats, and you wish the floor would swallow you whole.

You cover your face with your hands as Soonyoung fills him in. “I’m trying to talk noona into taking a date to Nayoung’s wedding.”

Seungcheol looks at you with a small frown; you peek back at him between your fingers.

“You can’t go alone?” he asks. “It’s 2025. Strong, independent women and everything?”

You sigh, uncover your face, and sit back up. This conversation is clearly happening.

“My family are vultures,” you try to explain.

He raises an eyebrow at you, perplexed. From down the hall, something buzzes, loud and demanding. Next to you, Soonyoung pushes himself to standing.

“That’s the laundry,” he says apologetically. “You guys good for a few if I go -?”

“Of course,” you say easily. “Can’t let everything get all wrinkly.”

“You get it,” he says sagely, and vanishes down the hallway, past the kitchen. For a minute, there’s no noise in the apartment except the faint sounds of Chan singing in the shower.

Then, Seungcheol says, “So. Vultures?”

You flush again. “We don’t need to talk about it,” you say. “You’ve got your own shit going on. I can handle my problems.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind. I’d rather hear about your problems than think about my own right now, actually.” He chuckles dryly at this.

You chew on your bottom lip for a second, unsure.

“What harm can it do?” he asks. “Worst case scenario, you’ll feel better for getting it off your chest. Best case scenario, maybe I’ll have some advice.”

You consider this. It’s vulnerable, letting him peek into your family dynamic, showcasing the parts that hurt you, pointing out the bruises.

“I don’t really know where to start,” you admit. “It’s… there’s some context.”

"So," he says, "start at the beginning."

You take a deep breath. And then you do as he says.

You tell him how Nayoung left when you were nine and Soonyoung eight. How, after, she'd become a once-a-year figure in your life, as elusive as Santa Claus. You tell him about your parents' ugly divorce when you were eleven, the years of broken porcelain and promises that preceded it.

You tell him the truth: that your extended family blames your mother for the split, and (whether it’s true or not) they see your singlehood as evidence that you're just as fundamentally fucked up as she is.

Your voice chokes a little when you say it, and you realize this is something you’ve never articulated to someone else before. But you’re alone in Soonyoung’s familiar living room, and Seungcheol’s gaze on you is serious and careful. It just feels… okay to let this thought out.

"Soonyoung said that if I could get someone to agree to..." You struggle with what word you want. "…to pretend with me, he'd help uphold the lie. Just to, like, make this slightly less shitty for me."

Seungcheol doesn't speak for so long that you get self-conscious. You worry at your bottom lip with your teeth and then murmur, “Sorry. Was that… too much?”

He shakes his head. "I'm just thinking," he explains. Then, he taps his fingertips on his unlit phone screen. “Want me to do it?”

You almost choke on your own spit. “You to - what? To be my pretend boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned as he seems to turn this possibility over in his mind. “I mean, you can say no. I’m not trying to be presumptuous. I’m just saying… if you need a friend to help you out, I could.”

You let out a disbelieving little laugh. “Why would you do that? Why - for me?”

His eyes find his phone, as if this is an answer. And, in a way, it is. Jieun. What would this be, for him? Just an escape, a distraction? A way to make her jealous? All of the above?

“We’re friends,” he says, even though before tonight you’re not sure you would have called him your friend - you would have called him Soonyoung’s friend. “You need someone to help you. I think I could handle it.”

You lapse into silence, looking at each other, both thinking.

“I don’t know, Seungcheol,” you say finally. “I really appreciate the offer, but it feels like a big ask. We’d have to like… really fake it. Like, pull out all the stops, not make it weird when we have to act all in love or whatever. I’m not sure I feel comfortable asking that of you.”

He’s looking at you, but the corner of his mouth ticks up, like he’s amused.

"If you think about it,” he says, “It’s actually a pretty good deal. All I have to do is pretend we're in a relationship and pay for my airfare?"

"You probably need a tux," you add quietly.

Seungcheol taps on his mouth as he thinks. “Honestly,” he says slowly, “the idea of four days at a beach resort is really appealing right now.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming.”

Seungcheol smiles, something sheepish about it, like he didn’t mean to let it slip, his dimples peeking at you as he glances sideways as he appears to cross a street.

“But," he says playfully, “I mean, I’m assuming you want to be convincing… I’m figuring it’ll be more than sitting next to you and holding hands sometimes. Right?”

“Yeah,” you admit, thinking about this. “We’d probably have to… kiss and stuff.” You feel like your face is on fire. You clear your throat and then add, “Is that going to make things weird with us? Or with you and Soonyoung? I don’t want to…” Mess everything up.

“I’m not worried about that,” he admits. There’s something in his tone that you latch onto.

“What are you worried about?” you ask, eyes narrowed.

He nods, looking at his hands instead of at you for a minute. “When we come home, it’s back to normal, right?”

The question takes you aback. “I mean, yeah,” you say uneasily. “That’s the whole point. It’s pretend, just for a few days.”

“It’s just,” he huffs, pulling the black beanie off his head and ruffling his hair so that it falls to frame his face before pulling back on, “it’s important to me that we agree ahead of time - all that stuff stays there. It stays pretend.”

This makes you frown. “I think I’m offended,” you say seriously. “What, are you scared I’m going to fall in love with you, Seungcheol? Please. I’ve heard you fart, right here in my brother’s living room.”

He drops his phone and goes scrambling for it, and behind you Soonyoung re-enters the room with a basket full of laundry. He plops it down in front of the chair he’d been in earlier and starts folding. Out of habit, you reach over and grab a few items to help.

“If any of this is Chan’s,” you say seriously, “I don’t want to know.” Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Seungcheol straightens back up, phone back in his hand, his face somehow both mortified and outraged.

You think about his offer. Could it work? Doesn’t this always, always go wrong? Doesn’t it always start with “don’t fall in love with me” and end with someone crying? Even if that didn’t happen - could you fake being lovey with Seungcheol?

Could you hold his hand, kiss him in front of your family, call him oppa and make googly eyes across a table? Could you ever go back to normal after that, or would you want to go up in embarrassed flames forever, every time you saw him again?

Probably. Right?

You regard him calmly with one eyebrow raised. “It stays there,” you tell him. “It’s only four days. We should be okay.”

Soonyoung looks back and forth between you, something knowing dawning on his face.

“Alright,” Seungcheol says finally. “I think I might be in. Text me the dates?”

“Sure,” you say, adrenaline starting to rush through you, along with relief. "And… thank you.”

Soonyoung’s head still looks like he’s watching ping-pong.

“If you wanna repay me,” Seungcheol says, a sneaky smile crossing his face, that dimple deepening, “you can cover half of my plane ticket.”

A laugh startles out of you. “Done,” you agree.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows fly up, and he’s able to suppress himself no more. “You’re doing it?” he asks, looking at you even though the question is worded for Seungcheol. “You’re going together?”

“I guess?” you say. “Maybe?”

“We can talk more about it,” Seungcheol says, but this is directed at you. He stands, sliding his phone into his back pocket and grabbing his keys from the coffee table. “I have to go, but… I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you say. “Sure. Thanks.”

He gives you a quick smile, knocks Soonyoung’s shoulder in goodbye, and heads out.

In the silence he leaves - Chan’s done singing down in the bathroom, apparently - you let out all your breath and flop back onto the carpet. You can feel Soonyoung’s gaze on you, so you peek sideways at him.

“What?” you snap.

“What?” he asks innocently, shaking out a pair of slacks and folding them along the seams.

You shake your head. “I really don’t know about this.”

He scowls at you. “Don’t be like that. It would take some of the pressure from the aunties off, and you might actually - gasp - have fun some of the time.”

You scowl back. “None of this is going to be fun.”

“Not with that attitude, it’s not,” he quips. Then, “I think Seungcheol-hyung could really help. And you know I won’t blow your cover.”

And do know that. He’s a good kid.

You leave the envelope unopened. Work gets busy; you lose yourself in your routine until your mother brings up Nayoung’s nuptials again, letting you know that she received her invitation and inquiring if you received yours.

You don’t tell her that it’s sat unopened on your kitchen table for over a week.

June

You text Seungcheol with some regularity for a few weeks. You send him screenshots of plane times and ticket prices, he sends you tux options, you send the resort’s website, he sends memes. Then, as the actual logistics get settled and handled, it slowly drops off until you’re back to not texting at all.

When you can delay it no longer, you fill out your RSVP card and send it back to your sister, indicating that you and your plus-one will both attend. You should have expected her to rat you out, but you’re somehow caught by surprise when your mother calls five days later and demands, “So who exactly is this date you’re bringing to Nayoung’s wedding?”

Panic floods you. “What do you mean?” you ask, mostly to buy time. You take a big breath, will your heart to quit pounding, and try to think clearly. The best way through this is to stay calm and immoveable.

“You sent in your RSVP card indicating you are bringing someone named Choi Seungcheol?” your mother asks, her syllables clipped and irritated. She’s mad, you’re sure, that she doesn’t know who this is.

You’re about to make her more mad.

“Yeah?” you say, trying to keep your tone light, as if you’re confirming something obvious. “What’s the question?”

Your mother lets out an aggravated huff of breath. It crackles through the phone, makes you wince. “Well, who is he?”

You let a silence fall between you - as if you’re confused by the question. “Mom,” you say finally, acting like you’ve never acted before, your tone just bordering on confused, “that’s my boyfriend.”

Now the silence on the line isn’t forced. It lasts for so long that you eek out a timid, “Mom?”

“Your boyfriend,” she repeats, flatly.

“I thought you knew,” you say, trying to sound unbothered.

There’s another long silence, one that you don’t like at all.

“Sweetheart,” she says finally, and you almost shiver from how threatening the endearment is. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you retort hotly, and the feeling of indignation is so strong in you that it’s easy to forget that… yes, you are.

You can hear her roll her eyes.

“You’ve never mentioned a boyfriend,” she says flatly now, and you hear it for the accusation it is.

“You didn’t ask,” you point out.

Another silence. You wait this one out. When she speaks again, voice still cold, she says, “Well. I look forward to meeting this young man.”

“We’re looking forward to it, too,” you say, and then silently congratulate yourself for the automatic we, something that you’d probably do with a serious boyfriend.

She doesn’t talk to you for the next six days, but you take what you can get.

Then, about a week and a half before the trip, Soonyoung texts you.

Brother of mine: so how did you and hyung start “dating” Brother of mine: whats the story

You stare at your phone blankly, part of you wondering how you hadn’t realized you’d need to get your story straight, and the other part wondering how your dumb little brother did.

You: it has been brought to my attention that we might be asked questions about… “us” Seungcheol: 🤔 You: idk things like how we “got together”, how long we’ve been together, that kind of shit Seungcheol: youve been secretly in love with me since freshman year of college, obviously You: sure sure but when YOU realized you were secretly in love with ME how did you make your move? You: weren’t you worried that my brother would kick your ass? Seungcheol: TELL ME THAT’S A JOKE

You catch yourself laughing out loud. Then you send, “so how long have we been together? six months? a yr?”

Seungcheol: let’s say it’ll be ten months soon? feel like thats less suspicious You: you gonna propose soon? Seungcheol: ok calm down

You laugh again, then flush with embarrassment as if anyone were there to catch you.

You: we saw each other around soonyoung’s place a lot until you finally asked me out? Seungcheol: why do i have to do it You: my family knows i’m a chicken lmao

You nail down the details of your first “date” (an outdoor concert and then a walk along the river, complete with food from the streetcarts), as well as a few other key details.

Seungcheol: your mom won’t think it’s weird that she didn’t know you were dating someone? You: seungcheol… are you admitting that you’re a mama’s boy?? Seungcheol: i told my mom about you after the first date 🥲 You: she asked me about it when I sent in our rsvp card, actually. I told her you’re my boyfriend but she didn’t ask any follow-ups. You: honestly i dont think she fully believes me but… we can handle it Seungcheol: lay it on extra thick around your mom, got it Seungcheol: my mom LOVES you, by the way

You catch yourself snickering again and try to school your face back into neutrality, scolding yourself silently. You never knew that talking with Seungcheol could be this easy - you seem to be much on the same wavelength. It’s pleasant, and kind of interesting.

You: if we get asked anything that we didn’t cover, just let me answer Seungcheol: what if i’m alone You: oh that’s easy You: never leave my side :)

July

“Fancy meeting you here.”

You turn in your seat at the airport bar just in time to see Seungcheol drop into the empty spot next to you, dropping a black backpack into the small space between your seat and his.

You can’t help but smile at his teasing. “Flying makes me nervous,” you admit. “And before you start to tell me that flying is safer than driving or whatever, I’m not scared of the plane crashing. It’s just all the people. I hate crowds.”

He squints at you a little, reaching up to push his hood back an inch on his head. “I’m starting to think I’m just here to be your people buffer.”

You squint back, mocking. “I thought I made that very clear. Certain people specifically.”

You keep up this pretend face-off until the bartender comes over, and Seungcheol orders a beer.

“You’re also here so I’m not drinking alone,” you say, smiling. “How was the traffic?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “There was an accident or something… we were just sitting there. My Uber driver literally jumped a curb to get us around it.”

“Jeez. I’m glad you made it.”

“I take my people buffer duties very seriously.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. You sip at your drink, looking at him out of the corner of your eyes. He looks good today, as usual, and you wonder how awkward it will be when you have to start the fake shit.

When your boarding time rolls around, you amble together towards the gate, patting your pockets and checking for phones and airpods and wallets.

“Got everything?” you ask, as you join the back of the line of your boarding group.

He nods, popping in one of his earbuds, fixing his hoodie absently. Then, he reaches the other bud towards you, an offering.

Giving him a tiny smile, you reach out and take it.

You’re about halfway down the plane when you find your row. You glance at the boarding pass on your phone and realize you’re the aisle seat. You glance behind you, where Seungcheol is keeping a polite distance, his eyes scanning the row numbers.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, coming a little closer, “do you mind if we switch? I like to be on the aisle - the inside feels too cramped.”

You slip into the row and take the window seat as requested, fighting a little smile as you slip your bag under the seat in front of you.

“What?” he asks as he slides in next to you, clocking your little smile.

“Nothing,” you say. But you’d been about to ask him if you could have the window. He’d beaten you to it.

When the plane takes off, your stomach swooping as the earth detaches beneath you, you lean back against your seat and close your eyes happily. Bass-heavy music thumps in your left ear, and you glance over at Seungcheol, grateful for all of it - his companionship, his music, his presence.

“Hey,” you say.

He glances over, one eyebrow quirked.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

Seungcheol laughs quietly, aware of the people around him. “You think someone will ask you that?”

“Probably not,” you admit. “But I realized I don’t know.”

He indulges you for a little, trading little details - dark blue. jajangmyeon. winter. gaming. seventeen, but I tell people fifteen. - until you lapse back into silence. You look out the window for a while, fingers tapping on the tops of your legs to the music playing in one ear, watching the light at the end of the plane’s wing flash on and off in a steady rhythm.

You don’t notice when Seungcheol falls asleep, but when you glance at him after a while he is - eyes closed, mouth open just slightly. You smile - it’s kind of cute - and when the snack cart rolls by you ask for a second packet of pretzels in case he wants them when he wakes up. You’re surprised into stillness when he shifts in his sleep, his shoulder coming to lean heavily on yours, but you don’t move away. You just flick a finger up the lone earbud he’d given you, turning the music up one notch, and close your eyes, still smiling faintly.

—

Seungcheol’s sleepy blinks when the plane touches down - jostling you both so hard that you grab his arm for a second before letting go just as fast - make something flutter below your diaphragm. You staunchly ignore it, instead offering him back the earbud he lent you so he can slide it into the case with his own.

It takes a long time to actually deboard the plane, and you both walk in silence through the airport, following the baggage claims signs. He’s quiet because he’s still waking up, you think. You’re quiet because you’re one step closer to seeing your family, and your heart is starting to thump in advance.

You two exist quietly through the whole process - waiting for the bags to come out on the carousel, waiting for a driver to pick up your ride, the twenty-minute drive to the resort during which you can’t see anything outside the car’s windows due to how dark it is outside.

You text Soonyoung that you’re pulling in as your driver pauses at the resort’s security booth, giving the name of Nayoung’s fiancé. The gate lifts and the car glides in, coming to a stop at the front door.

“Room’s under your name?” Seungcheol asks quietly, as you thank your driver and head through the resort’s main entrance.

“Mhm,” you say, glancing at your phone to see if your brother has answered. He hasn’t.

You go to the front desk, where you’re greeted brightly. You give your name, and then your credit card for incidentals. Once the front desk worker has talked you through everything you need to know - breakfast hours and location, how to connect to the wifi, etc. - you lead Seungcheol to the elevator bay. You don’t realize you’re showing your nerves, but he must catch the way you exhale slowly to expel your anxiety, because he bumps you with his elbow.

“You good?” he asks.

You smile sheepishly, embarrassed at being called out. “Nervous, I guess. It’s starting. We’re here. It’s too late to say just kidding - we have to go through with this.”

The light comes on above Elevator 4 and you shift closer to the metal doors. The elevator slides open and you both wheel your bags inside. Once the doors are closed, Seungcheol meets your eyes in the mirrored wall.

“What are you most nervous about?” he asks, something almost gentle in the question.

Getting caught in the lie, you think immediately. Getting called out on it. My family seeing right through the bullshit because they know I can’t be someone’s partner, not the way we’re pretending.

You simplify. “Getting caught,” you admit.

He nods, like this is very fair. Maybe it is. “We won’t get caught,” he says.

He sounds sure, but you know he can’t promise that. “You don’t know my family,” you say reproachfully.

“We’ve got this,” he promises. Then, inexplicably, he reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze. “I am fully planning to wife you up someday, and not a soul here will doubt it.”

The shock of this makes you laugh, and that’s all it takes for the anxiety to release its death grip on you, to simmer down into something more ignorable. You shoot him a grateful look. “Are you prepared to talk me down for three more days?”

“Two and a half, I think,” he teases, as he releases your hand. “You’ll be okay once we head to the airport on Sunday.”

“That’s true,” you agree. “I might actually be fun by then.”

“You’ll be fun before that,” he says, giving you a small, sideways smile. The elevator dings, the doors slide open, and the moment dissipates. You take a breath and grab your bag, heading into the brightly lit hall.

Inside, the room is great, with a bathroom bigger than you have at home and an oceanview balcony. The only setback is the bed - one solitary King-size - but you’d both known this ahead of time and had talked it out, agreeing on making a Blanket Wall in the middle and being grown-up about it.

You unpack a little bit - plugging in your tablet, tossing your toiletries bag onto the bathroom counter, and then wander to the sliding-glass door that leads to the balcony. You crack it open and slip through, greeted by the sound of crashing waves.

You feel instantly more at peace. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you check it to see that Soonyoung and his date (whom you realize you know nothing about) are at one of the resort bars on the main level. You text him that you might join, and go back to breathing in the salty sea air, feeling calmer than you have in the last six hours.

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, and you realize he’s hanging halfway through the doorway, holding onto the doorframe for balance. “Neither of us had dinner. Should we try to find food?”

Your stomach growls on cue.

“Soonyoung is down at one of the bars,” you say. “Want to see if their kitchen is still open?”

You change shirts in the bathroom just to get the airplane smell off, and then the two of you wander back to the elevators, following signs that lead to the bar.

This particular bar has some indoor seating but seems to open out onto the resort’s private beach. You spy Soonyoung perched on the outside half, a drink with a pineapple slice and a little blue umbrella in his hand. Then you spy who’s next to him and you stop short.

“You brought Chan?” you yell.

Beside you, Seungcheol is giggling wildly. “Bro, I thought you two were joking!”

Soonyoung is laughing so hard that he’s snorting as you approach. The two of them, idiot roommates, are practically laying across each other they’re laughing so hard. You wonder how many pineapple-garnished drinks they’ve each had already.

“What else was I gonna do, bring a Tinder date?” he asks, still chortling.

You and Seungcheol settle in next to them, the guys immediately launching into a conversation that doesn’t necessarily interest you, and you scan the food menu instead.

You feel much better after you eat, perking up considerably. Soonyoung talks you into one of the umbrella drinks (it’s fucking delicious), and Chan orders a round of shots for the four of you (“only one, I have to function tomorrow,” you insist). By the time you order one final cocktail, you’re feeling fully unfurled in a good way - nice and loose, relaxed and almost happy.

It lasts until you hear a vaguely familiar voice call your name, and then your brother’s. You all swivel to see your cousin Mijin heading towards you, her husband - whose name you don’t remember- in tow behind her.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Then you point a sharp finger at Dumb and Dumber and hiss, “Don’t fuck this up. Remember - Seungcheol and I have been dating for almost a year. Let us answer any questions she asks about it.”

Chan and Soonyoung both stare at you, wide-eyed and glassy, which doesn’t instill much confidence in you. But Seungcheol scoots his chair closer to yours, snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you minutely closer to his body, and says assuredly, “We’ve got it under control.”

Mijin greets you with open arms, a big smile, and shriek that you aren’t sure you deserve - you’ve never been close - but you swivel in your seat to return the hug, feeling Seungcheol’s arm retract from around you in the mess of limbs.

“You remember Jiseong?” she asks, as she backs up from the hug, nodding her head behind her. You reach forward to shake her husband’s hand.

“A little bit,” you say, as she moves on to hug Soonyoung, cooing over how he’s grown since she saw him last. “When did you get in?”

“We landed this morning,” she tells you, coming to take empty seats on Chan’s other side. “How about you?”

“We just got here a few hours ago,” you say, and then realize you haven’t introduced anyone. “Oh, this is our cousin Mijin and her husband Jiseong. This is my boyfriend, Seungcheol, and that’s Soonyoung’s best friend Chan - all four of us are friends from college.”

Mijin’s smile doesn’t shift but her eyes sharpen. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” she says, voice light. “Have you been gatekeeping him from your socials?”

You shrug and let yourself laugh. “Kind of,” you say, like you’re admitting something. “You know how nosy the family is.” You let yourself smile sideways at Seungcheol, who winks at you, smirking. “I kind of like keeping him to myself.”

She looks between you, that smile plastered in place. Seungcheol casually sips at his drink and reaches an arm around your shoulders, unbothered. Or, pretending to be.

“Well,” she says finally, her voice bright. “So happy for you! Soonyoung-ah, how’s your dance team doing?”

With the heat off of you for a minute, you sip on your drink and sneak a glance sideways at Seungcheol. His body language is relaxed - he’s settled back in his chair, that one arm still draped around you, and he watches the conversation with friendly interest. When he catches you watching him, his mouth quirks and he bumps your knee with his.

We’re fine, he seems to say. Or, maybe, lighten up and have some fun.

“So, not to be nosy,” Mijin says, turning her attention back to you, and beside her Chan visibly grimaces, “but what’s the story with you two? Have you been together long?”

“Just shy of a year,” Seungcheol says, before you can answer. “Big anniversary coming up. How about you - how long have you been married?”

The tactic works - Mijin sends her husband a sickly sweet smile over her shoulder and launches into their own history. Hidden behind the bar, you reach over to Seungcheol’s knee and give it a grateful squeeze. He doesn’t acknowledge this, but one of his dimples pops.

When Mijin’s drink becomes only clinking ice cubes, she turns to look at her husband. “Ready to head in?” she asks, and he nods amiably. They rise, telling your group goodbye and heading up the lit path back towards the rooms.

You wait until they’re out of sight and then mutter, “One down, six hundred to go.”

“I think that went fine,” Soonyoung says.

“I feel like I’m waiting for someone to straight up tell me sounds fake, but okay,” you admit.

Soonyoung snickers. “Only Mom would just say it like that.”

“And she might,” you point out darkly.

“I honestly don’t think anyone is looking that closely,” Seungcheol tells you seriously. “Your family isn’t examining us for cracks, you know?”

“I assure you, my mother will be,” you grumble, and Soonyoung nods, lips twisted. He knows.

You all nurse your drinks in silence for a little, and not much later Soonyoung and Chan rise from their seats, claiming they saw the sign for an arcade room inside.

Left alone, you and Seungcheol take in the newfound quiet. The ocean breeze carries the smell of salt past you, and Seungcheol sighs happily. “It’s so nice out,” he remarks, his eyes on the beach beyond the bar. “Do you want to walk a little before we head up?”

“That sounds really good, actually,” you admit.

You carry your shoes, reveling in the soft, silky sand running over and under your feet as you walk. Seungcheol stays close, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asks.

You shrug. “We’re supposed to have breakfast with Mom tomorrow - you and me and Soonyoung. And Chan, apparently. But you don’t have to go if you’re uncomfortable, I can say you don’t feel great after the flight and you wanted to sleep -”

“What’s the point of me being here if I don’t go to the things with you?” Seungcheol argues lightly.

“Yeah. I guess that’s true,” you say quietly, turning your head to watch the stars flicker above the ocean. You can hear the faint thumping of club music - there must be a place for dancing somewhere on the sprawling resort property.

“Brunch will be harder than tonight,” you tell him, a warning. “My mom will be trying to poke holes in the story - she’s already accused me of fabrication.”

“Fabrication,” Seungcheol echoes, his voice wavering with a laugh.

“What?” you ask defensively, but you’re smiling too.

“Just say lying,” he says, smiling over at you. “This is a conversation, not an entrance exam.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Leave me alone,” you complain.

“Mmm,” he says, mock-thoughtfully, “I’m pretty sure that’s the direct opposite of my directions this weekend. So what’s the game plan for her? What’s our strategy?”

You laugh a little. “You have such a gamer brain,” you observe.

“It’s going to work in your favor,” he promises.

“Just be ready for a barrage of questions,” you tell him. “Try not to get defensive. Try not to let me get defensive.”

He nods, then asks, “How much of a show are we putting on?”

When you look at him blankly, he clarifies, “Do you want me to, like… walk you into the dining room holding hands? I guess like - how much of a show do you want? What are the boundaries? If I’m acting like your boyfriend, I guess I need to know what you’re okay with. Like… should we kiss goodbye and stuff?”

You stop walking. He gets two more steps and realizes you’re not next to him and he stops too. It’s very dark on the beach, but you swear you see a bit of a blush on his face.

“Can I just say,” you say slowly, “bless you for even asking me first? You’re a good kid.”

“I’m older than you.”

“By four months.”

“Still older.”

You smile at him, enjoying this little game. You laugh when he pretends to scowl at you, and then you get serious, thinking about his question. “I guess we probably should. If you’re okay with that.”

He holds your gaze and nods seriously. “Okay,” he says, and then neither of you say anything else.

“Should we… kiss now?” you ask, heart suddenly thumping against your ribs.

His held tilts. “No one here to trick,” he points out. But it’s not no.

“Yeah, that’s my point,” you explain, hearing how breathless you sound and hating it. “Maybe our first kiss shouldn’t be… in front of an audience? So if it’s weird, we can deal with it now?”

He licks his lips. You don’t think he realizes he does it. “I think…” he says slowly, “I love the way your brain works.”

“Don’t flatter me,” you manage to breathe, before his hands are cupping your jaw, his mouth meeting yours firmly, not shy or hesitant in the slightest.

It’s good - nothing weird about it. He tastes like the shot you’d all had back at the bar, and his hands feel amazing - strong - as one cups the back of your neck and the other slides to the dip of your waist. You fall into it, barely holding back a noise as his tongue sweeps across your lips, seeking entrance.

You clutch at his biceps as you open for him, knees going weak when your tongue meets his. His mouth is firm against yours, moving in ways that make you want to gasp for breath, your skin tingling when he leaves your lips and trails his teeth and tongue along your jawline.

When he pulls away, breathing a little heavily, he murmurs, “There. Won’t be weird next time.”

You breathe out a quiet laugh. “No,” you agree. “It certainly won’t.” You realize you’re still clutching his arms and you relax your fingers, stepping back.

The sea breeze suddenly feels a whole lot colder, a foot away from his tall form, and you shiver.

“We should go back,” he says, and it warms your cheeks to hear that he’s a bit hoarse.

“Sure,” you say. “Big day tomorrow.”

And even though there’s no one here to fool, he leads you by the hand back towards the hotel’s glittering lights, your fingers intertwined with his. You hold tight until you’re in the elevator - just in case you run into anyone from your family again.

No other reason.

—

Back in your room, you stand near the foot of the bed, trying to decide what you need to do.

“I think I’ll take a quick shower,” you think out loud. “I smell like airport.”

“You smell fine.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll go after you,” Seungcheol says easily, and flops on one side of the bed, his phone in hand. “Don’t use all the hot water.”

“Maybe I will, just because you said that,” you tease.

Is this flirting? Part of you wonders. And if it is, is that wise? Will it help your mindset, help with the bit? Or will it complicate things down the line?

And if it is flirting, why? Did a single kiss get beneath your skin so quickly? Or is this just normal for you and Seungcheol, the natural rhythm of what friendship with him would look like? You’d never spent time alone together - he had always been Soonyoung’s friend, just your acquaintance.

You tap the shower knob bit by bit until it’s almost too hot to bear, the questions burning off your skin and slipping through the drain.

When you emerge, in pajama bottoms and a hoodie, Seungcheol is in the same position, except with a little grey toiletry case next to him.

“Your turn,” you tell him, and he glances at you gratefully as he rises and heads into the bathroom. When you hear the shower turn on, you turn off all the main lights in the room and close the curtains over the balcony door, sliding into your side of the bed. It feels like heaven to stretch out and lay down, and you very nearly doze off, startled awake when Seungcheol turns off the bathroom light and re-enters the main room.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” he asks quietly.

“Not entirely,” you say, and then notice that he’s hovering awkwardly near the bed. You guess at the reason for his hesitation. “Time to make the Blanket Wall?”

He laughs a little, like he’s embarrassed to be caught. “Yeah. What do you want to use, the sheet?”

Once you have it all figured out and situated, Seungcheol climbs into his side.

“You can do whatever,” you tell him. “Like, if you wanna watch tv or be on your phone, it won’t bother me. Don’t feel like you have to be quiet for me, okay?”

“I’ll probably be on my phone for a while,” he admits. “But I’ll use my airpods.”

“No problem,” you say, reaching to turn out your little light, leaving the room cast in blues from his phone screen. “Sleep well.”

“Sleep well,” he returns quietly.

You lay there for a while, settling in, adjusting to having a person near you in bed. You’re facing away from him, and you feel hyper-aware of his presence behind you, just inches away, separated only by a sheet rolled up like a taquito. Eventually his movements, every tiny shift or heavy breath, stop alarming you, and you feel yourself starting to drift off. He smells good, some defunct, mostly-asleep part of your brain observes. Then you’re pulled under, the thought barely registering at all.

Next ->

thank you for reading!!!

#scoups #multi #p1 #svt

681 notes · View notes

whore-anghaereads · 24 days ago

Text

Ok thank you for giving me plot and then so so sooooo much smut. I fucking UGHHHHHHH need this man. He makes my monkey brain go woof so bad 😭😭. This was incredibly hot, well described and greatly appreciated

Please (c.sc)

PAIRING: Alpha!Seungcheol x Omega! f.reader

SUMMARY: A heatwave in your city makes dealing with your hormones more difficult than usual. Getting locked in a lobby at work for an hour with an alpha makes it ten times worse. Thankfully, Seungcheol is there to help you - and maybe a little more.

WC: 18,512

AU: Omegaverse, Coworkers to Lovers

GENRE: Smut, A bit of Fluff, the barest hint of angst

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

TEASER WARNINGS: Mix of traditional and nontraditional Omegaverse dynamics in terms of heat cycles, social statuses, and body chemistry but this fic doesn’t really dip into it very heavily - including no knotting or any of the traditional lore. There are brief mentions of social discourse and discrimination across all three subgenders. Reader has some internal back and forth and moments of feeling embarrassed and frustrated with her body and hormonal fluctuations. Some internal stresses/anxieties on reader’s part about what comes after with Seungcheol. Seungcheol is a touch possessive in parts. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content including very gratutious smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting, a lot of spit/slick/fluids mentions, nipple play, vaginal fingering, lots of praise (use of good/good girl/baby often), not explicit dom/sub dynamics but more alpha/omega dynamics, no use of a condom as in - I just never wrote one in and they never talk about it tbh I just forgot lol - reader experiences some highs and lows through her heat emotionally… I think that’s mostly it. Please tell me if I forgot anything.

A/N: I don’t know how I ended up writing so much of this, but here we are. Reader’s struggles as an omega are inspired directly by my struggles with PCOS, especially living in a very hot climate and constantly having fluctuating hormones and just having to exist!!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it.

A/N 2: Thank you @daechwitatamic for beta reading this - I love u thank u hehe.

MASTERLIST | ASK | NOW PLAYING: BAMBI BY BAEKHYUN

SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN THE BACK OF YOUR NECK AND THIGHS. Irritated, you wipe at the back of your neck for what feels like the hundredth time before pulling at the collar of your shirt, fanning it in hopes of cooling the rest of your body off. It’s unseasonably hot, a heat wave sweeping through the city and turning your office cubicle into a toaster oven.

The small fan on your desk whirs pitifully, barely offering any sort of respite. Adjusting in your seat does nothing but remind you how uncomfortable you are, the scratchy grain of the chair digging into the back of your sweating thighs, the underwire of your bra digging into your ribs, the heat rash forming where your underwear digs into the creases of your hips.

Unbearable.

A message pings on your computer and you open it, growling in irritation as you see a message from Wonwoo in the cubicle behind you.

Jeon Wonwoo: Ever heard of suppressants, diva?

You: IT’S FUCKING HOT IN HERE

You: Tell this company to BUY SOME FUCKING AIRCONDITIONERS

Jeon Wonwoo: Irritable… sweaty… irrational…

You grab the nearest pen and whip around in your chair, launching it at the back of his head. It hits with a satisfying thwack. He flinches, cursing as his hand flies up to rub the spot where you nailed him. Wonwoo turns in his seat, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder.

You meet his glare with a stuck-out tongue and a very deliberate middle finger before turning back to your screen, face flushed, partially from the heat, partially from embarrassment.

He doesn’t get it. You know he’s just teasing, but it still stings. That old, familiar insecurity curls in your gut at his jest, no matter its innocence. Being an omega is hard enough. You’ve spent years unlearning shame, of trying to accept this part of yourself you never asked for. And you’ve gotten pretty far with that.

But then something as simple as a heatwave hits, the rise in temperature turning your body traitorous, unable to accommodate for a little bit of humid air and heat.

Of course, Wonwoo doesn’t understand - can’t conceptualize the level of difficulty it is to maintain a baseline for you. Betas don’t have to deal with this kind of hormonal chaos. Sure, they’ve got their own issues - media erasure, medical neglect, in general being left out - but it’s not the same. Not when your body actively works against you, not when your biology fights you.

You sigh. There’s no point in going down the rabbit hole and comparing omegas and betas. You’ve traveled that road since your subgender presented itself in your freshman year of college. Comparison is the thief of joy, but it’s also an endless torture device.

Your thighs rub together uncomfortably when you get up. You swipe your water bottle, unscrewing the cap as you duck out of your cubicle, head down and steps fast. You’re pretty sure Wonwoo is attuned to your scent more than others, having been one of your closest friends and cubicle-neighbor for the better part of five years. But still, you’re nervous about it, hand snaking up to touch the translucent patch on the side of your neck, meant to dampen the smell from your glands.

No one pays you much mind. You breathe a sigh of relief to find the break room empty. You make a beeline to the water cooler in the corner, sliding the water bottle under it and pressing the tap. As it fills, the air conditioning kicks on, the vent right above you.

Cool air hits the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter, a shiver of relief slithering through you. For a moment, you lose yourself, letting the cool wick away the sticky sweat, the first time you’ve felt a little relief all day. A small sound escapes your mouth, half whimper and half plea.

Someone clears their throat and you flinch, losing your grip on the water bottle. It crashes to the ground, water splashing up your legs but more importantly, all over the floor. You squeak in panic, diving to pick it up in an attempt to stop the outflow of water.

Hands dripping, you pivot on your heel, scanning for paper towels only to find them being offered. You blink in surprise, body going rigid as you become acutely aware of who is offering them.

Choi Seungcheol watches you with quiet concern, dark eyes steady behind his glasses. He keeps a respectful distance, arms extended with a roll of paper towels, waiting for you to take them. But you don’t move. Your pulse pounds in your neck as your gaze drops from his face to his hands, large and patient.

He has pretty hands, you think absently, staring a beat too long.

For a moment, all you can hear is the roar of blood in your ears. Then, he steps forward without a word, crouching down to wipe the water pooling around your feet. You jerk, startled, a sharp sound of protest escaping you as you drop down and snatch more paper towels from his hands. Apologies tumble out, disjointed and breathless, your thoughts scattered.

He doesn’t back away. Instead, he methodically dabs at the wet tile while trying to avoid soaking himself in the process. His proximity is overwhelming, his spicy scent nearly knocking you over. You grit your teeth and clench your jaw, irritated. He’s not supposed to affect you like this - never has before.

Seungcheol is always mild. Unassuming. He’s worked here as long as you have, one of the few alphas on your floor, and one of the most reserved. He keeps to his office, always dimly lit, always quiet. He greets you politely. Never lingers.

It surprised you when you first met him. Seungcheol looks like the type of alpha who is the opposite of quiet and shy. There’s a gravitas to him that you haven’t quite figured out and a body made to ruin. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a voice deep enough to rattle through your spine even on your best days.

Yet somehow, he’s never once made a pass on a single omega at work.

Which, he shouldn’t. You respect that about him, which feels ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to be flattered by the bare minimum of respect, shouldn’t need to be surprised when an alpha is able to be normal. To treat you like a human being.

You mumble a quiet thanks, focusing on the mess. It’s the only thing tethering you right now. It shouldn’t feel this intense, but the goddamn heat is getting to you. It’s baking you from the inside out, turning your cube walls suffocating. It makes you tired. Irritable. Prone to throwing pens at Wonwoo’s head.

“Thanks,” you mutter when you stand. You toss the soggy paper towels into the bin, avoiding his gaze. “Sorry again.”

“No need to apologize. I’m sorry I startled you.”

Seungcheol stands slowly. You don’t move, watching the way he wipes his damp hands across his slacks. You hate that you notice how the fabric pulls over his thighs. As soon as you have the thought, you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but him, afraid that he’ll see the embarrassment or the way your body reacts without your permission.

“It’s been a long week,” Seungcheol offers, voice soft. “You alright? I know Jeonghan had you working on that insane report.”

You swallow past the dry patch in your throat. “All good. Just tired. It’ll probably keep me here forever, but what can you do?”

“Mhmm. Don’t forget it’s Friday - cleaning locks the office and will trap you inside.”

“Sounds like you’re intimately familiar.”

His smile is soft, cheeks flushed. “Cannot confirm or deny.”

“I see.” You gesture to the watery floor. “Thank you, again. And sorry for being a bit clumsy.”

“No problem.”

You slide away from him, hoping that he can’t tell that you’re leaning, trying to avoid catching his scent again. He doesn’t seem to notice - or has the decency not to make it obvious - and you slip away from the break room, all but running to your cube.

Inside your little haven, you rip open one of your drawers, grabbing a pheromone damp nasal spray. You all but shove it up your cranium, putting it as far up your nasal passage as you can manage before squeezing and shooting a blast of medical grade dampener up your nose, inhaling sharply.

It helps a little, settling your nerves and erasing the lingering scent of Seungcheol. You breathe out a sigh, calm and collected. Carefully and quickly, you peel the suppressant patch off your neck and swap it for a new one. It tingles when you apply it, the microneedles that embed into the skin to deliver suppressant a cool sensation at first.

When you settle, you feel much better. It isn’t until you turn to start knocking out the rest of your report that you realize you never refilled your water bottle after dropping it, making you lean back on your desk and groan.

Working for Yoon Jeonghan comes with its challenges. He's incredibly sharp and a natural leader, but he tends to be a bit forgetful and brings a touch of chaos wherever he goes. Jeonghan is the reason you’d started working at this company, though, admiring that there was an omega in charge, defying the long-standing social norms that omegas could not lead.

It’s a silly stereotype, but you’ve been fighting stereotypes your entire life, unlearning your own and reminding yourself that there are still inherent biases to unlearn.

Like right now, when you're mentally cursing Jeonghan for tossing a last-minute report your way, even though he had multiple reminders in his inbox and just forgot he'd opened them. You only blame him a little. Work’s been nonstop, keeping him up at all hours, and if there’s one thing that truly makes Jeonghan unbearable, it’s sleep deprivation.

Jeonghan doesn’t have an assistant, but you’re the closest thing to it, one of the few people in the office he trusts to get things done. So when he’s on vacation and starts spamming your email that he dropped the ball, it’s on you to cover for him, like he’s done for you in the past.

The consequence of competency, he’d told you over the phone, the sound of the ocean in the background. I’m sorry, I owe you, please don’t quit.

You weren’t going to quit. Despite your irritation, you like working for Jeonghan, and despite the unbearable heat burning in your cubicle, you like being able to focus on pulling and building reports, inputting data into a spreadsheet and setting pivot tables and charts.

It makes you forget about the world for a little bit, including the oppressive office air and the way that the building’s air conditioner barely keeps up with the raging temperatures outside. Makes you forget about the incident in the breakroom, and about everything else, including the passage of time.

Above you, the lights go out. You flinch, looking up in surprise. Rubbing your eyes, you blink until your computer screen comes back into focus, looking at the time. You groan. It’s past seven, far later than you meant to stay at work. But you’re done with the report, dragging the attachment to your email to fire it off to Jeonghan with a less than happy emoji pasted in the body of the email.

Exhaustion weighs you down when you stand. Your joints pop and everything feels hot and itchy again, all of your irritations flooding back to pester you now that you’re not locked in on your work. You flip off the fan, lamp and computer at your desk. Immediately without air circulation, your cube is sweltering, the dress sticking to you, fabric itchy and clinging to your skin.

A sudden wave of dizziness makes the room tilt around you. You steady yourself with deep, measured breaths, trying to stay grounded. A spike in temperature is normal. You can deal with it. It’s manageable. Sure, the heat triggers a surge of estriolase, the hormone that kicks in during Stage 1 of an omega’s heat cycle. And sure, it leaves you flushed, restless, skin prickling with irritation, and-

“You’re still here?”

You shriek, whirling around, heart hammering as your hand flies to your chest in terror. Seungcheol takes a cautious step back into the hallway, hands lifted in surrender, quiet concern etched into his features. For a moment, the air between you is thick with silence, broken only by your uneven breathing, still reeling from the rush of epinephrine and cortisol.

Being an omega means constantly walking a tightrope of hormones. One shift sets off another, like dominoes toppling. Fear bumps into instinct, instinct stirs something deeper, until your body is a storm of tangled biochemistry.

Now, your body is caught in a storm of fear, annoyance, embarrassment and interest, each one fighting for dominance. You swallow thickly and lean off your desk, ignoring the way your body flashes between hot and cold, fear and something else.

“Just finished Jeonghan’s report.”

“Ah.”

Something passes his face. It’s unreadable, but he’s focused. Your skin prickles under the heavy weight of his stare, watching as his mouth tightens at the corner.

“You heading out?”

“Yeah.”

A beat passes. His gaze flickers briefly, so fast that you’re not sure you track the movement correctly, but you swear it drops to the patch on your neck, dampening your scent. His jaw flexes once before he offers you a tight smile, gesturing.

“Mind if I walk you out? It’s late.”

Your heart hammers. “Sure.”

You’ve walked out of work with Seungcheol before. He offers to walk anyone out when it’s after hours, even if he himself isn’t leaving yet. It has nothing to do with your subgender and everything to do with him being kind, a sort of stoic office guardian.

Grabbing the rest of your things, you follow Seungcheol in silence. The building is quiet, both of you the only people still around on a weekend. The lack of sound amplifies everything else: the sound of your own quickened breathing, the warmth pulsing under your skin, the spicy scent of Seungcheol as he steps onto the elevator, lingering at the threshold to hold the door open for you.

You murmur a thank you as you pass by him. You can’t help the shiver that snakes through you as you pass. You clench your fists, angry and willing yourself to calm down. This has never happened around Seungcheol, and you blame the fucking weather for the way your body overrides you now.

The forty five seconds spent in the elevator are borderline hell. Neither of you says anything. You’ve pressed yourself in the corner, trying to remain nonchalant, like your entire world isn’t spinning, like there isn’t a dull ache in the pit of your stomach, like there isn’t saliva pooling at the back of your tongue.

Seungcheol smells warm. Grounding. Something that lingers, sharp and clean with a bit of a bite. You breathe in, trying to figure it out. Perhaps bergamot and cardamom, spice touched by sweetness, a hint of earth.

The elevator dings and Seungcheol is halfway through the lobby before you realize it. You push off the elevator wall after him, steps stilted and uneven. It’s even hotter in the tiny lobby of your office building, making a bead of sweat trail down the back of your neck. You adjust your dress, licking your lips in an attempt to relieve the hot flash threatening you.

Seungcheol pushes on the glass doors at the front, but they don’t budge. Both of you stand and stare for a second before he curses low under his breath, voice like gravel. You ignore what your stomach does at the sound of it as he turns to look at you, expression wary.

“Remember what I said in the break room?” You definitely remember the break room, but not anything he said. “The cleaners come on Friday evenings and they lock the doors.”

“Oh.”

Seunghecol walks back to the elevator and swipes his badge at the scanner and presses the button. The metal doors do not open again, and the button doesn’t light up. He curses again, pinching the bridge of his nose right beneath his glasses.

“Badges don’t work after hours.”

“They don’t?”

“No. It’s not the first time I’ve been stuck here, unfortunately.” He adjusts the strap on his bag and pulls a cellphone from his pocket. “Thankfully I have security’s number saved for exactly that reason.”

Seungcheol’s words do little to bring you relief. He paces a few steps away from you, dialing a number on the phone. He holds the phone to his ear, waiting for security to pick up. His free hand is stuffed into the pocket of his slacks, thumb tapping idly. You stand a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to focus on the sterile, white glow of the lobby lights instead of the way your skin feels like it’s humming.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Seungcheol’s voice sounds loud, making you twitch. “Yes, I’m locked in the lobby again.” He glances at you. “I’m with another coworker as well. The badge isn’t working to get us back up. Can you come let us out?”

You barely register his words. A flush is working its way up from your stomach to your chest, your chest to your shoulders, shoulder to elbows. You feel it unfurl, the slow-burning petals of a flower blooming. The air feels thick and heavy, almost damp, and no amount of focused breathing seems to help with the pulse you feel throbbing in your neck.

Seungcheol’s voice momentarily pulls you from your daze. “They’re sending someone from central security. Might take about an hour, though. They were in the middle of a shift rotation.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Alright.”

“Are you alright?” Seungcheol asks quietly, eyes fixated on you.

You open your mouth to say yes, but the word dies in your throat. Because you’re not. Not really. There’s a heat curling deep in your belly now, slow and insistent, and your clothes feel too tight, your skin too sensitive. You press your palm against the marble wall behind you, trying to ground yourself with the coolness of the stone.

“Yeah,” you manage, nodding and giving him a thumbs up.

You’re anything but. It hits you slowly, but when it does, it locks into place with terrifying clarity: the dizziness, the temperature spikes, the way everything around you sounds sharper, smells sharper, the bergamot and cardamom.

Your body is crawling toward Stage 1 of heat, triggered by the unbearable temperature spike across the city and the unbearable proximity of the alpha standing across the lobby from you.

You shift your weight, arms tightening around yourself, every nerve ending suddenly too aware of Seungcheol’s presence. He’s not even close, but you can feel him. Or maybe it’s just your scent receptors going haywire, both just as likely.

“You’re flushed,” he says after a moment, eyes not quite meeting yours now. “You sure you’re not getting sick?”

“No,” you say too quickly. “I don’t think it’s that.”

Seungcheol’s brows pull together, not believing you but not sure what to make of it. He shifts his weight, gaze scanning you, trying to figure you out. You refuse to meet his eyes, looking up at the lobby lights that are too bright, making you squint. But you can feel him watching you, his gaze intense.

“You look uncomfortable.” He shifts a little further from you. “I apologize if-”

“It’s not you!” You blurt, a little forceful. “It’s just hot in here. It’s… hard on me.”

When he doesn’t answer, you dare a look at him. Seungcheol tilts his head slightly, like he doesn’t believe you but won’t push it. He nods, leaning against a wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes track the way his biceps flex, the way his shirt compresses across his chest and your mouth goes dry.

He studies you carefully now, eyes narrowing just slightly—not in suspicion, but understanding. Something settles in his expression, the faintest flicker of recognition behind his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. He knows. He knows and the embarrassment is so overwhelming you nearly fold over and start crying.

Still, he doesn't call you out. Doesn’t voice what you’re sure he knows, what his instincts are telling him. Doesn’t corner you with it.

Instead, he says, “Tell me something you enjoy.”

“What?”

He watches you, eyes soft. “Anything. To pass time. I only know the basics about you. Tell me something you’re passionate about.”

Something you're passionate about? A million things run through your mind. You grab the first thing you can think of, a single subject that you’re well-versed in.

“There’s a theory that the Tyrannosaurus Rex didn’t roar.”

He looks confused. “The dinosaur?”

“Yes. Like you know in the movie how they… rahhh.” You imitate the noise, immediately wanting to smack yourself for the ridiculousness of it. He presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. He nods and gestures for you to continue, dark eyes focused only on you. “So it’s a total myth. Scientists think they made way lower sounds, like… you know when crocodiles do that weird purr?”

“Crocodile purr?”

“Yeah you know when they…” You hunch your shoulders. “Do that weird water rumble thing.”

“I think I follow.”

You nod rapidly, grateful for the distraction even as your heart beats way too fast. “Yeah, like a subsonic hum. They think it was more intimidating that way. A sound that could vibrate through the chest cavity of its prey. Honestly, it’s kind of genius.”

He watches you with quiet amusement, one brow raised but not mocking. “I didn’t know you were into dinosaurs.”

“I was obsessed as a kid,” you admit, shrugging, eyes still fixed on the security panel like it’ll spark to life if you ignore it long enough. “Used to correct people all the time. I was that kid. I got in trouble once for lecturing my cousin while playing with dinosaurs because Stegosaurus and a T. rex never existed at the same time. They lived millions of years apart! And he was trying to tell me they were best friends.” You scoff. “As if.”

You hear a soft chuckle across the lobby and you look up to meet his face. Your pulse flutters again, reminding you why Seungcheol asked you to distract yourself in the first place.

As though he can sense where your thoughts are going, Seungcheol asks, “So are you one of those people who thinks the Jurassic Park raptors were too big?”

You huff, a flare of irritation licking through you. “Well yeah. They were too big, thank you for asking. Plus, Alan Grant pointed out in the first movie that they were the size of turkeys, and then they get to Isla Nublar and they’re fucking six feet tall! And they were supposed to have feathers!”

“Not very intimidating.”

“I mean, I feel like a giant bird of prey is pretty intimidating.”

Seungcheol grins and you feel another shiver threaten to pulse through you. His grin is beautiful, turning his face from intimidating to soft in seconds. “I’m never going to be able to take them seriously again, I think.”

“You’re welcome.”

It’s quiet again. The tension from earlier hasn’t disappeared, but something in the air feels different. Sweat fills the creases behind your knees, beads on the small of your back, gathers on your thighs. Your rambling had made you forget about it all for a moment, but now it’s back, the awareness of the way your body is crawling toward Stage 1 of your heat.

If security gets here soon, you’ll be okay. It’s the lightest phase of the cycle, manageable with some effort and focus. But it’s unpredictable. Sometimes it lingers, sometimes it crashes into the next stage without warning. And while your body usually keeps a steady three-month rhythm, outside stimuli can trigger an early onset.

Like being trapped in an overheated lobby with an alpha just a few yards away. One who’s quiet, watching, aware.

Still, it’s not unmanageable. You’ve handled worse. If you can get home in time, the meds waiting in your cabinet will ease you through the worst of it, keep you from slipping into second and third stage alone, unprepared.

If not…

No, you can’t think about that. If you stray too far to the second stage of your cycle before getting home, your options are limited and grim.

You don’t like any of them.

You shift your stance again, ankles crossing and uncrossing, arms hugging your waist like that might hold everything in place. But it’s not helping anymore. Your skin feels too tight, like it doesn’t fit right on your body. The heat is building now, no longer a low thrum, but a steady pulse radiating from your core, licking up your spine and sinking into your limbs. Your breaths come shorter, faster, and there’s a dull ache beginning in your lower belly, something deep and hormonal and utterly beyond your control.

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, causing you to look at him. His face is soft. Concerned. “You still with me?”

The way he says it, soft and gentle, makes things worse. Makes you want to whine and cross the lobby floor to him, to let him pull you in tight and tell you it’ll be okay. To comfort you. The desire is so bad that you realize you’re much farther into Stage 1 than you thought.

Panic starts to nip at your heels. You’re unsure what to do. There’s nothing on you besides your nasal spray and your patches to help you out, but those aren’t what you need. Your patches protect others from your scent and the nasal spray protects you from others - from Seungcheol.

You try to answer, but your voice catches in your throat, coming out thin and shaky. “I’m okay.”

“Are you in prodrome?” he asks quietly, voice pitched low and careful.

You flinch when he finally says it out loud, letting the acknowledgement ring in the lobby. You close your eyes for a moment, your silence an answer in itself.

Seungcheol sighs and pulls his phone back out of his pocket, dialing as he lifts it to his ear. “Yeah, I know. Look, you need to expedite. My colleague needs medical assistance and we’re still locked in the lobby. No… no.” Seungcheol glances at you. “She’s experiencing prodrome. Can you please expedite? Yes. Thank you.”

He hangs up and turns back to you, stepping slowly so he doesn’t overwhelm, arms loose at his sides in a show of calm. “They’re sending someone now. Shouldn’t be long.”

You nod, but your breathing is uneven, shallow now. You can feel the sweat dripping down your spine, the pressure behind your eyes. Everything smells too sharp, too thick. Especially him. Spice and warmth and safety. It’s awful.

Seungcheol stays where he is, a careful distance between you, but his voice is steady when he says, “Tell me what you need. What I can do to help.”

“I’m fine.”

“I mean it. If you need space, I’ll back off. If you need something cold, we’ll figure it out. Just don’t… don’t try to pretend this isn’t happening. Let me help you.”

The kindness in his voice cracks something in your chest. No judgment, no pressure, just him, steady and solid, offering help while your body betrays you one symptom at a time.

You swallow hard. “I just need to get out. I just need to make it home before it gets worse.”

Seungcheol nods, no hesitation. “Then we’ll get you home. I promise.”

Time moves like molasses. The silence between you thickens. You give up on standing, sitting on the cool tile floor. It only offers momentary respite until you’re panting again, struggling to maintain your grip on yourself.

It’s not working. Your entire body is pulsing, tingling, burning in waves that crest and fall without rhythm. Your skin itches with hypersensitivity, every shift of your clothes unbearable, your breath slow and ragged. It feels like you’re melting, burning up from the forge in your chest.

You can feel Seungcheol watching you from his assigned corner. He says nothing, keeping a respectful distance. You steal a glance at him through bleary eyes. He’s just leaning against the wall, hands clenched and jaw tight. He’s doing his best to appear calm, but you see signs of irritation. His throat works and your eyes linger on the way his Adam's apple bobs for too long. You think about sinking your teeth into his neck, tasting him-

His scent, normally warm and grounded, spikes. You sense the shift and it makes you squirm, pressing yourself further into the wall. You look away from him, hiding your face in your shoulder while you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave of cramping crashes into you.

Seungcheol’s irritation is sharp. Shame floods you, thick and fast. Of course he’s annoyed. Today has gone from bad to worse. He’s now stuck in a lobby with an omega in prodrome, a liability that he now has to be responsible for, and you’re barely holding it together, shaking like a live wire. You’re stuck, and he’s stuck with you, and-

The lobby doors beep and hiss open. You don’t even lift your head. Don’t even hear the first few words from the guards. You only feel cool night air and the sudden shift in pressure, making you keen and melt into the tile.

Seungcheol appears at your side, his scent fading from acrid to soothing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, crouching down to your level. It’s the closest he’s been to you all day. You feel the heat of him, the nearness overwhelming. “They’re here. We can go.”

You don’t move. The thought of moving suddenly seems like an insurmountable task. Your world is tilting, your ears ringing. Your limbs feel detached from your brain and your body is locked, curled in on itself. Heat prickles across your skin like static.

Worst of all, you’re starting to panic. Fear sets in, stabbing deep. You don’t know how to get up and take the train home. Don’t know how to get yourself up the stairs and into your apartment. To the cabinet to take a suppressant. To the fridge for water.

Seungcheol’s voice sharpens. “Hey. Look at me.”

It’s a command. You blink up at him, barely able to focus. Something flashes behind his eyes and he’s on the phone again. “Hi, I need emergency assistance for an omega. She’s in heat prodrome and she’s deteriorating fast. No, she’s conscious. She’s overheating, but having trouble standing and struggling to focus. I have no idea what to do.”

You barely hear the voice on the other end of the line, but Seungcheol does. His expression shifts, each word they say tightening his jaw.

“She’s a coworker - we were locked in a lobby at work but I can take her to an omega hospital.” You whimper and shake your head vehemently, whining. He softens. “They said they can give you a heat inhibitor on-site.”

“No,” you pant. “It hurts.”

He nods. “I can’t do that, she doesn’t want to go.” The operator says something else and he nods. His eyes tighten at the corners and he glances at you. “I can take you to a service clinic. They can assign you-”

“Home,” you plead. “I just need to get home. I can- I can deal with it.”

“I don’t know… do you have, um. Do you have an alpha you usually…?”

“No.”

Tears well up fast and hot, blurring your vision, sliding down your cheeks in silent streaks. Your whole body feels wrong, like you’ve been unraveled from the inside, trembling and raw.

“I just want to go home,” you whisper, folding in on yourself. “I have my meds. I can manage if I can just get home. Please.”

He repeats what you say into the phone. They say something and he shakes his head and hangs up, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Okay. Alright. We’re going to get you home, okay?”

He helps you to your feet slowly, carefully, arms braced around you like he’s afraid you’ll break. You lean into him, weak and unsteady, but there’s no judgment in his touch, just quiet strength and a protective kind of focus that makes your throat tighten all over again.

The lobby fades behind you. The night air hits your overheated skin like salvation. Seungcheol doesn’t say a word as he guides you into the passenger seat of his car, buckles you in, and throws his jacket over your lap for warmth. His hands are shaking as he starts the engine.

“Can you give me directions?”

You mumble them. You’re not even sure that he hears you. He has no idea the bomb he’s given you, tossing his jacket over you. Your fingers curl into it, greedy. Inhaling deeply, you feel yourself drift as he drives, the hum of the engine lulling you into a half-daze. The smell of Seungcheol is overwhelming, but comforting. Steady. No longer a threat, but something you want. Need.

It isn’t until Seungcheol’s hands are gently shaking you that you realize you’re at your apartment. You blink up at him, stars in your eyes. He looks down at you, glasses a little askew as he asks you a question. His words are garbled and you don’t understand, shaking your head in confusion as he gazes at you.

“Come on,” he sighs, unbuckling your seat for you. His chest brushes across you as he does, bergamot and cardamom hitting you so hard that it knocks the senses out of you. You’re near catatonic for a second until you feel his hands pressed against your forehead. “Fuck, you’re burning up. Can I carry you?”

You must nod, because he bends low and scoops you out of the car. You jostle against his chest as he carries you bridal style toward the stairs. His scent is mind numbing. Your face is too close to his neck and he doesn’t have a scent blocker on, pheromones doing insane damage to your self control as he climbs the stairs, you in his arms like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Gently, Seungcheol places you on your feet. He slides an arm around your waist, keeping you upright and pinned to him as he unlocks your door. You have no idea where he got your keys, must have fished them out of your purse at some point.

Seungcheol guides you into your dark apartment, helping you to the couch like you’re made of glass. You collapse onto it, dazed. He crouches, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. His eyes are devastatingly soft, touch featherlight.

“Let me call a doctor.”

“No.” Your voice is hoarse but immediate. “Please don’t. I can’t go to the hospital again. I don’t want to do this strapped to a bed, surrounded by strangers and white lights and IVs. I can’t.”

He exhales, hands flexing. “Okay. Okay. But—then what? Do you have anyone who can help you through it? Any alpha you-”

“No. I just do it alone with meds. They’re in my bathroom cabinet. If you could just get them, I can do this.”

“I don’t think meds are going to help.” His admission is soft. Regretful, almost. Like it pains him to tell you this.

You think he’s right, but you don’t know what else to do.

Seungcheol’s brows furrow. You watch the internal war play out on his face, concern and hesitance and something harder to name. His throat bobs as he swallows. “If… look, if there’s no one else. I can try to help.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I can try. Only if you want. Only if you need. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage, I just… I don’t want you to suffer. I know it’s not ideal, but I’m here. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

A fresh wave of tears hits you, shame curling hot in your chest.

“You don’t want to,” you whisper, voice cracking. “You’re just saying that because you feel bad. And I feel awful. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want to put you in this position-”

“Hey.” His voice is firmer now, but not unkind. He shifts forward, his hands finding yours, wrapping them gently between his palms. Your skin tingles where he touches you, a fresh wave of heat licking through you. “Stop. Look at me.”

You do. Barely. His face is open and honest, his eyes warm. He’s so pretty like this, looking at you like you’re something he cares about - someone he cares about.

“I want to help you. Not because I pity you. Not because I feel obligated. Because I care about you. And you’re in pain. And I can do something about it.” He takes a breath, then adds, softer, “Even if that means the more intimate parts.”

Your face crumples, fresh humiliation rising, but he keeps holding your gaze, steady and calm.

“Only if you want to,” he says. “Only if you’re lucid and safe and sure. If you want me to sit on the other side of the apartment all night and just be here, I will. If you want to go to sleep and pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow, I’ll follow your lead.”

“I don’t want you on the other side of the apartment,” you admit. “I just feel embarrassed by what I need.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially for something out of your control. Your body isn’t your enemy.”

You press your lips together, fighting the emotions building in your chest, but it’s no use. A soft sob slips out before you can stop it, and Seungcheol is there in an instant, wrapping his arms around you with careful strength, cradling you against him like he’s anchoring you to the moment.

His scent hits you more fully now, warm and earthy beneath the sharp spice, like cinnamon bark and sun-warmed cedar. It fills your lungs and settles into the frantic edge of your nerves like balm, and it’s… comforting. Not invasive. Not overwhelming.

Just Seungcheol.

“I’m here,” he murmurs into your hair. “Whatever you need, we go slow. I’ll follow your pace. You lead.”

“Even if it’s more than you expected?”

“Even then.”

Seungcheol helps you sit back, propped with cushions on the couch, still watching you like you might unravel again, but not because he doubts you. Because he cares. Because he’s listening to every breath you take like it matters.

“I’ll need… a few things,” you say, quietly. “If this really goes into the full cycle. I have suppressants, but they won’t help much unless I can get them in the next hour, and I don’t think I have that kind of time anymore.”

“Okay. Tell me what you need.”

You breathe in. “Water. A lot of it. Heat spikes dehydrate fast, and I’ll probably get a fever if we don’t keep me hydrated. Heats are a game of chess except sometimes the board blows up.”

“Funny. Got it.”

“And blankets,” you add quickly. “I’ll feel cold, even if I’m burning. Like weight and softness. Like nesting.”

“Like a bird… or dinosaur.”

You scowl at him and he grins, dimples appearing in his cheek. It makes you want to lean forward and bite him, to sink your teeth in and never let go.

“What else?” He asks.

“I’ll need food eventually. Simple things. Broths, carbs. My body’s going to want to burn through everything at once.”

“Easy.”

“And proximity.” You hesitate here, voice wavering. “I’ll need closeness. I haven’t had a heat partner before, but probably a lot of sex. It uh - comes in waves but it helps. Obviously. So there’s that.”

“I can do that.” There’s no hesitation. Just firm dedication. “It’s not a problem. What else?”

You look at him, something stirring in your chest, still unsure how to express the storm of emotions bubbling beneath your skin. “What have you done for your omegas in the past? During heat? This is sort of new to me.”

He pauses. “I haven’t. I’ve never spent a heat with an omega.”

“What?”

“I’ve never been with an omega at all, to be honest with you.” The gravity of his statement makes you panic. You start to sit up, protests bubbling to your lips but he hushes you, eases you back down. “It’s fine. I’m fine, I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t totally sure.”

“Why offer at all?”

“Because it’s you,” he says simply. “And I’d rather learn how to help you than let you suffer alone.”

A beat passes.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he echos. “Let’s get you settled.”

Seungcheol stands, giving you one more lingering gaze before he sets himself to the task of readying your apartment. He sends you to your room to change into a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt before he lets you settle on the couch, sweaty and shaking.

Seungcheol moves through your space like he’s been here before, like he knows where everything is even when he clearly doesn’t. He opens cabinets and drawers gently, always looking back at you as though he’s seeking permission. You nod each time, endeared by his hesitancy.

You don’t know what to make of his admission of never being with an omega before. In your experience, most alphas would loathe to admit that, finding something wrong with it. But Seungcheol doesn’t seem to mind, admitting it as a simple fact, neither good nor bad.

You like that about him, his self-assuredness.

When he finds your largest pot, Seungcheol fills it with water and sets it over the stove. He pulls out ingredients for simple foods: rice, pasta, anything with carbs like you’d said. He hums under his breath as he moves, a soft, low sound that vibrates in your bones.

It’s soothing. Almost domestic. But every second that stretches between you builds like static, his very presence buzzing along your awareness like an exposed wire.

Seungcheol brings you a cool glass of water and kneels to hand it to you, his fingers brushing yours when you reach out to take it. You try not to flinch at the bolt of electricity that jumps up your arm. His eyes linger on your face, reading you. Not pitying. Not worried. Just seeing.

“You’re doing okay?” He asks, but by his tone, he knows you are. You nod, but your throat is dry again, so you take a few gulps of water, nearly emptying the glass. He laughs and reaches for it when some spills over, running down your chin. “Careful.”

Something in his voice changes. The softness of it ripples down your spine and you look at him over the brim of your glass. His scent is warmer. Closer. Still under control, but pressing at the edges of your awareness like velvet, his alpha instincts responding to your body chemistry, the need of your hormones begging for him.

Seungcheol rises, keeping a respectful distance, and yet his gaze burns where it rests on you. He takes the glass from you, fingers brushing yours again before heading to the kitchen to refill it.

It makes you unravel, every part of you unspooling wildly as you watch him in your kitchen, the muscles under his shirt flexing. He rolls his sleeves as he turns the stove off before coming back your way, forearms bare, veins throbbing.

Arousal unravels inside of you. You feel the tip from Stage 1 to Stage 2, your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your hands shaking more. When Seungcheol offers the glass, you don’t take it. You stare at your hands, willing yourself to stop, willing yourself to stop wanting him. The fear of making him uncomfortable is so sudden, a wave crashing into you.

Seungcheol notices. He drops to his knees immediately, putting the glass of water on the coffee table. This time, he doesn’t hesitate when he touches you, putting his palm to your forehead, his other resting on top of your wrist, his thumb tracing back and forth soothingly.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is like velvet. “What happened?”

Your lips part, but no words come. You try again. Nothing. You don’t know how to shape the words, don’t know how to tell him that a second ago, you thought he was domestic and sweet, and now you’ve strayed into dangerous territory, thinking that you’d like nothing more for him to pin you down and fuck you until you can’t feel anything but him anymore.

You don’t need to tell him. Seungcheol inhales and you see the shift happen, a shiver rattling through him. He closes his eyes, inhaling again. A knowing, almost pained sound grumbles in the back of his throat and you squirm in response. He drops his hand from your head to your shoulder, fingers squeezing.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes snap open and he looks up at you, deadly serious. “Hey. No shame. Not with me. You told me to help, didn’t you? Let me do that.”

You nod, small and shaky. He lingers for a second longer, like he's giving you a chance to back out, then slowly rises, curling an arm around your back. You lean into him instinctively, your body already seeking contact, and he lifts you with ease.

Your bedroom isn’t far, but the walk feels endless, every footstep echoes with your racing pulse. You can feel his scent thickening around you, not overpowering, but present, comforting. It keeps you tethered, grounded. You cling to him in silence, your skin flushed hot, thighs pressing together in search of friction, your heart betraying you in its longing.

He places you gently on your bed, kneeling down beside you. For a long moment, he doesn’t touch you. He just watches, reading your every breath, every twitch of discomfort.

At first, you don’t do anything but stare at him. Seungcheol is so beautiful, with a plush mouth made for kissing, long eyelashes that frame gentle eyes, a dimple that appears each time he smiles. You’ve always noticed him, this quiet and soft alpha in your office. You’d never imagined you’d be here, looking up at him with want in your gut so strong that you can barely stand it.

Seungcheol senses it, because of course he does. He surges forward, catching your mouth in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and uncertain at first, hesitating to see if you pull away. You don’t pull away at all. Instead, you keen, a whine slipping between your mouths that makes him groan in response.

He deepens the kiss slowly, reverently. His lips are soft but sure, his hands careful as they frame your face. He tastes faintly of cherry chapstick, your omega running wild as you lean into him and lick into his mouth, eager to taste him.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, panting as he breaks the kiss. He’s leaning onto your bed now, pressing his nose against yours. You feel him pant against you, barely contained. You nod, unable to speak. “Even if this goes further?”

“Please.”

That one word seems to break him. He climbs up into your bed, hovering over you, pinning you to the mattress. You let out a sound of appreciation as he settles, his mouth meeting yours again. This time, there’s heat in it. One hand roams you carefully while the other is planted by your head, keeping him looming over you. Every touch eases the ache and stokes the fire in equal measure.

You can’t get enough of him, running your hands over his stomach and around his waist, pulling at him, desperate. It feels like you’re burning up, both suffering and relieved at the same time as his tongue finds the warmth of your mouth, drinking you in.

His scent is rich and spicy, unmistakably alpha. It makes your omega instincts claw at you, urging you to submit, to bare your neck. You tilt your head, exposing the sensitive skin, and Seungcheol growls low, his lips brushing the pulse point before he nips gently, not enough to mark but enough to make you shudder. Your slick pools between your thighs, the air thick with your arousal, and he groans again, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent.

“Fuck,” he growls, burying his face in your neck. It might be the first time you’ve heard him curse. “The sounds you make… fuck.”

Seungcheol’s tongue darts out, sweeping against your scent gland. His head snaps up and he frowns, realizing there’s a scent blocker on your neck. His lip curls like he’s offended, and he gently peels the pad off your neck, soothing the sting as the adhesive tears off with his warm, wet tongue.

His tongue directly against your neck nearly makes you catatonic. Your eyes roll back, breath catching as he mouths at you before pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses up and down your neck.

“You smell so fucking good,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

His hand slides down your body, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping as his fingers find your slick-soaked panties. He teases you, fingers circling slowly, pressing the fabric of your underwear into your messy cunt.

“Please,” you pant.

There’s that word again. It seems to make him malfunction, makes him bend to your will. He nods, peppering your collarbones with butterfly-light kisses as he pulls your underwear to the side. His fingers drag up and down your cunt and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your arms circle around his neck, clinging to him for dear life, hips canting as he leisurely circles your clit, applying subtle pressure.

“Feel okay?” He asks, breathing the words into your ear. His teeth nip at your ear playfully and you gasp, making him chuckle deep in his throat. “Do you want-”

“Please.”

He kisses your jaw. “Got it.”

Seungcheol presses a finger into your heat, wet and slow, aided by the arousal dripping from your entrance. The stretch is perfect, his fingers curling just right, and you gasp, hips bucking against his hand.

You whine, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt. He hums in response, pleased at your reaction. He slowly starts to pump his fingers, restricted by the waistband of your sweats. His thumb swirls against your clit and you hurtle toward an orgasm from the barest stimulation, already too worked up, too fucked out on him and his fingers and the hormones.

Your body sings under his touch, heat coiling tighter, your omega keening for more, for him, for everything. His lips find yours again, mouths clashing as he slips another finger in, working you open until you’re shaking in his grasp and coming around his fingers. You hear the wet smack of his hand against your pussy, the way his fingers squelch.

You don’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed by it. Instead, you’re floating in a fucked out haze, the world dulling. There’s just Seungcheol’s lazy tongue in your mouth and the smell of bergamot and cardamom. The weight of him on you feels safe, setting you in a trance.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you. You make a noise of protest but he hushes you with a gentle kiss. You feel a little more aware as the orgasm subsides, the ache you’d had a few moments ago dulled by the satisfaction. You know it’ll get worse and you’ll need more, but for now, you’re okay.

You open your mouth to give a shy thank you when you’re stopped, entranced by the way Seungcheol brings his fingers, shining with your cum, up to his mouth. Your lips part in shock as he pops them past his lips, sucking generously. He hums, eyelids fluttering shut as he licks them clean.

Never had you imagined that, imagined him like this. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are dilated. Starving. Feral.

“Taste so fucking good,” He murmurs, leaning down to give you a lingering kiss. You taste yourself on him, different but not unpleasant. “Can’t wait to taste you properly later.” That makes you whine and you reach for him, but he smiles and kisses your nose before standing up. You pout and he laughs. “Water. You need water.”

Seungcheol leaves your room but he leaves the door open just in case. You nuzzle into the bed, fisting the jacket he’d given you earlier as you nuzzle into it. You wish the bed smelled more like him. Right now it just smells like you, with bits of Seungcheol laced in.

You close your eyes, letting your body melt into the sheets, muscles pleasantly sore and mind hazy with velocetin, a neurochemical that heightens arousal and reduces pain perception during Stage 2 of an omega’s heat cycle. The room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the AC and the faint creak of the floorboards as Seungcheol moves through the house.

When he comes back, Seungcheol is holding a bottle of water in one hand and something else in the other. A bowl of mac and cheese. He brandishes both proudly before sitting on the bed next to you. You prop yourself up on the pillows, looking at him through your lashes.

"Figured you might need both,” he says.

You shake your head. “Just water.”

“You haven’t eaten dinner.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He levels a look at you. Switches tactics. “It would make me feel better if you did,” he urges gently. He puts the water on the nightstand, bowl of mac and cheese in his lap. He reaches out and brushes his fingers along your bottom lip. “Please.”

That word hangs in the air between you, both a pleasantry and a weapon. You feel the way he means it, the way it would make him feel better if you ate. You nod, sitting up with his careful assistance until you’re leaning against the headboard.

Seungcheol stabs some of the pasta and lifts his hand before pausing, realizing he was about to feed you. You both flush, averting his eyes and handing you the bowl awkwardly, you trying not to put it down and jump him at the thought of him wanting to care for you this way.

Instead, you bite into the mac and cheese. It’s a little salty, but it’s good. You eat the entire bowl in comfortable silence, Seungcheol holding out the bottle of water for you in exchange for your empty dish. You trade and you chug some of the water, letting it keep you cool.

“I guess I didn’t realize how much of an appetite I had,” you note, sagging into the pillows. You feel good. Far better than you ever have when dealing with your cycle alone.

He grins, cocky and unrepentant. “Guess I fixed that, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning too. “Shut up.”

“I could,” he says, climbing back into bed beside you, “but then I wouldn’t get to hear you whine like that.”

You flush at the memory, at the way your body still responds to his voice alone. He notices, of course he does, and his smile softens. One hand finds your waist, tugging you closer until you're nestled against him again.

“Take a nap,” he murmurs, leaning back into the headboard. “You need rest.”

“What about you?”

He smiles softly. “I’m good right where I am.”

You wake to the sound of voices. For a moment, you're disoriented, wrapped in sheets that smell faintly like Seungcheol and sweat and a myriad of other scents familiar to you from years of heat cycles. It’s still dark in your room, only the glow of a neon sign outside slipping through your blinds a source of illumination.

You roll over instinctively, reaching for Seungcheol and you freeze. The spot where he was when you had fallen asleep is now vacant. Cold, like he hadn’t been there in the last hour.

Panic lances through your chest, so painful that it feels like a physical blow. You all but fall out of bed, heart hammering when you realize he left. He’s gone and you’re alone and you don’t know what to do, terror working its way up your throat.

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe everything he said was just talk. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to silence the rush of doubt, of fear- until you hear it again. Voices. Voices that had woken you up in the first place, momentarily forgotten by a hormone-addled brain and sleep.

The door is shut to your room but you reach for it now, cracking it open. Dim light floods through the gap. All the lights in your apartment are off, but the single bulb over your stove is burning, a warm golden glow filtering down the hall.

Sticking your head out, you see Seungcheol standing at your door. It’s mostly closed, just enough for him to block the gap with whoever he’s talking to. His broad back is facing you and you cock your head, puzzled. You can see the tension rippling through him, the way his hackles rise and the rigid way he stands, like he’s barring entry to something important.

“Yeah, you’ve been really helpful,” Seungcheol growls. There’s a low, dangerous edge to his voice that you’ve never heard before. It sets the hairs on your arm standing.

“Relax, man.” You don’t recognize the voice on the other side of the door. It’s playful, distinctly male. “I brought you your shit, didn’t I? You’re acting like I came to steal her.”

Seungcheol bristles. “Out, Soonyoung.”

“Okay, okay,” Soonyoung - whoever that is - says. “Message received. You don’t have to piss on the doormat, Cheol.”

“I just might.”

You can’t help the small sound that escapes you, half laugh, half sigh of relief.

Seungcheol’s head whips around at the sound, eyes immediately softening when they land on you. “Hey,” he says, voice gentler now, but still tight with emotion. “You should be resting.”

You pad down the hallway toward him. Each step closer makes the fire inside of you return. You feel the throb come back, needing more, subtle but growing. “I thought you left.”

His entire expression changes, and he’s at your side in an instant. “No. No, baby,” he says, cupping your face with both hands. “I just went to the door. I called Soonyoung for some clothes and stuff. I wasn’t leaving. I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

Baby. He says it so naturally, so unconsciously, that you’re not even sure he realizes it slipped out. But it hits you like a warm wave, softening every edge of panic still clinging to your chest. Your knees wobble slightly, and he notices. His hands slide from your face to your waist, grounding you there, steady and sure. He pulls you closer, and you melt into him, breathing him in.

Not gone. Not alone. He’s right here with you, like he said he would.

“Sorry. I just panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault. I should have known you’d wake up.”

A throat clears behind him.

You both freeze, and then Seungcheol stiffens, the muscles under your hands tensing like a drawn bowstring. His eyes narrow behind his glasses as he turns his head, keeping you tight against him, chest to chest, like a shield. A low, warning growl rumbles from deep in his throat.

“Soonyoung was just leaving,” Seungcheol asserts.

“Soonyoung is leaving, but also says he hopes your cycle goes well!”

Carefully, you peek around Seungcheol to see Soonyoung in the doorway. He’s standing in the doorway with a duffel slung over his shoulder, unbothered and grinning. His dark hair is long around his ears, and his eyes curve into soft crescents when he smiles. He waves at you, the gesture so sincere it makes you falter, like he’s genuinely happy to see you, even though you’ve clearly never met.

“Nice to meet you!”

Another warning growl vibrates through Seungcheol’s chest. You feel it more than hear it.

Soonyoung just rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright, relax.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender as he backs away. “Let me know if he starts brooding in corners or being unbearable. Happens when he doesn’t get enough attention.”

“Bye, Soonyoung,” Seungcheol grits out.

Soonyoung flashes one last wink and manages to pull the door shut just before Seungcheol fully turns to kill him. He exhales sharply and mutters something under his breath.

You look up at him, a teasing smile on your lips. “Territorial much?”

His ears flush instantly, color blooming down to his neck. He chews the inside of his cheek, gaze dropping. “I apologize,” he murmurs, stepping away. “I know I’ve overstepped and-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, reaching to pull him back, hands curling into his sides. “I liked it.” His brows lift, uncertain. You offer a soft smile. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of you before. You’re usually so calm. Quiet. Kind of unassuming. Not very…”

“Not very alpha.”

“Not in the way people expect. But that’s not a bad thing.” He studies you for a moment, searching your expression, and something in his shoulders loosens. “I like the way you are. And the possessiveness…”

You shiver and he grins, cockiness returning to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

His hands slide back to your waist, gripping just a little firmer this time. “You shouldn’t have told me that. Now I’m not going to be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to. Please.”

Seungcheol forgets all about his bag by the door. He scoops you up in his arms, taking you back to your room. You let out a soft sound, something almost like a purr, keening under him, excitement and arousal flooding you overtime.

He notices, groaning when he catches the change in your body chemistry. He places you down on the bed gently, crawling over you, hand skimming up your t-shirt as he does. His fingers are warm and light, playful. You don’t want playful, though. You want greedy. Hungry.

The buzz of anticipation curls low in your belly, heat blooming under your skin like wildfire. You arch into him instinctively, hips twitching. “Don’t play with me,” you breathe, reaching up to fist the fabric at his sides. “Please.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Recognition, you think. Like he sees the hunger gnawing inside of you and he recognizes it as his own. You want it, want that fire in him. You want to dive in head first and never come up for air. You want him so bad it hurts, a physical pain manifesting between your legs as your thoughts drift away and your instinct takes over.

“Please,” is all you can whisper.

That’s all it takes. The control he’s been clinging to snaps like a thread pulled too tight. He crashes his mouth onto yours, swallowing your moan as his body presses down, heavy and solid, every inch of him demanding to be closer. His kiss is nothing like the ones before, this one is rough, consuming, all tongue and teeth and need. His hands slide up your sides, pushing the shirt higher, until the fabric is bunched at your ribs and he can finally touch bare skin.

His palms are searing, dragging up your waist to your ribs, brushing just beneath your breasts before he groans deep in his throat, your scent thick in the air now, laced with heat, need, you.

“You smell so fucking good,” he growls, mouth trailing hot, wet kisses down your throat. “It’s driving me insane.”

You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan again, his hips pressing into yours, and you gasp at the hardness you feel through his pants. He’s still in his work clothes, though they’re wrinkled and sweaty and a mess. You tug at them desperately, whining, trying to get them off.

He growls again, low and possessive, and then he’s kissing you hard, his body rolling against yours in slow, grinding movements. His thigh slots between yours, pinning you in place, and the friction makes your back arch, chasing more.

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters against your mouth, one hand cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your bra, his thumb brushing over your nipple. “I’ll give you anything, baby. Anything.”

There’s that nickname again. Baby. It sounds sinful on his lips, like he’d do anything for you, like he would give anything for you. It makes you dizzy with gluttonous power and you pant, pulling him as close as you can get him, a button popping on his shirt.

“I want you. Now.”

Seungcheol’s eyes darken, pupils blown, and he pulls back just enough to kneel above you. His gaze rakes over you, flushed, trembling. He makes a sound, something pitiful, hands trembling slightly as his fingers work the buttons of his shirt.

He shrugs his shirt off, the fabric catching on broad shoulders before it falls, revealing hard planes of his chest, skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. His muscles flex when he moves, every line of him radiating strength. Your mouth waters, arousal pooling between your legs, screaming to touch him, to taste him.

He doesn’t rush, though. His fingers linger on his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness, the clink of metal loud in the charged silence. Your hips shift, impatient. He tuts at you, narrowing his eyes and you still immediately, falling into line, eager to please. His mouth twitches and he drops a hand to give your thigh a squeeze as if to say good job.

It makes you want to pass out.

Seungcheol slides his belt free, letting it drop, and when he unbuttons his pants, the sound of his zipper is tortuous. You want him immediately, you want him now, but he seems dead set on doing this at exactly his pace. So you let him, letting the ache peak inside of you, shivering at what you know he’s going to give you.

He carefully shoves his pants down, kicking them alongside his briefs in one fell swoop. His cock springs free, thick and heavy, the tip glistening with precum. Your core clenches at the sight, a fresh wave of slick dripping from you, and he groans, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent.

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, voice low. He peels your sweats down your legs, shaking his head as he goes, overwhelmed by the sheer need for him, to your body's reaction. “Fuck.”

He crawls back over you, hands skimming your sides, sliding up to peel your shirt off of you. The air is cold but Seungcheol’s touch is burning you up. He deftly removes your bra, tossing it somewhere behind him. He pauses, eyes locked on you, and the intensity of his gaze makes your breath catch. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, cannot fathom what’s in front of him.

Seungcheol shakes himself as if from a daze and then his mouth is on you, lips trailing fire down your throat, over your collarbone, until he reaches your breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue swirling, and you moan, back arching to press closer.

His worship is meticulous, unhurried. He lavishes attention on your other breast, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, while his hand slides down, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You’re trembling, omega instincts in overdrive, and when his fingers finally find your slick-soaked folds, you cry out, hips bucking into his touch. He groans against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, and pulls back to look at you, eyes blazing.

“Yeah?” He asks, voice scratchy. “So wet for me.” His fingers tease, spreading your slick, circling your clit with maddening slowness. “All for me?”

“Yes. Yours.”

Hearing you say it makes something snap in him. His pupils dilate, fucked out and filled with an intensity you didn’t know was possible. He dips lower, kissing a path down your stomach, nipping at the soft skin above your hips. He settles between your thighs, spreading them wide, and the sight of him there, all broad shoulders, dark eyes, and lips parted, makes your core throb.

He doesn’t tease this time, reaching up with one hand to rip off his glasses and toss them to the corner of the mattress. He drops down and his mouth finds you, tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line through your folds, and you moan, loud and broken, as he tastes you. Relief floods through you. You feel yourself go boneless, the pain that was ebbing in you a moment ago dulling again as Seungheol leisurely tongues at you, groaning while he does.

Seungcheol is relentless, worshipful, every lick and suck a testament to his need to please you. His lips close around your clit, sucking gently, then harder, and you writhe, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard. He moans into you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine, and doubles down, tongue flicking with precision, lapping up every drop of slick. His fingers join in, two slipping inside you, curling against that perfect spot, and the stretch, the pressure, is overwhelming.

You gasp, hips grinding against his face, chasing the building heat in your stomach. He hums, pleased, and the sound pushes you closer to the edge. He’s messy, slick coating his chin, his lips. He doesn’t care. He seems drunk on it, one hand pressing your thighs to further open you up, pressing his face further into your cunt to drink you in.

His fingers thrust in time with his tongue, every curl and suck calculated to make you unravel. You shiver under him, your limbs unable to keep up, thighs twitching against his hand. It feels maddening, better than anything you’ve ever felt up until this point.

Your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, dragging you under until you’re gasping for air. Your thighs clamp around his head and he lets you. He laps at your entrance as it drips, drawing out every shudder, every pulse, until you’re whimpering and overstimulated.

Even overstimulated, you want more. Need more.

Seungcheol pulls back, lips glistening, eyes wild. He pulls his fingers from you and crawls up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss is filthy, desperate, and you moan into it, pulling him closer.

“Need you,” you gasp, hands roaming his back, feeling the muscles flex under your fingertips, your nails cramping. “Need you inside of me. Please.”

He nods, unable to respond. He lowers his waist and drops a hand down to peel your thighs open. You feel how wet and messy you are but you don’t care. Seungcheol seems to appreciate it, swearing when he looks between your bodies to fist his heavy cock and line himself up with your entrance.

The anticipation makes you tremble. He pushes in slowly, stretching you inch by inch, and you both groan, the sensation overwhelming. He’s big, filling you completely, and your walls flutter around him, slick easing the way.

“Fuck,” he grits out, dropping his forhead against yours. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

Seungcheol fights to keep still, fights to let you adjust around him. You’re stretched tight, gripping him like a vice, your breathing hitched as you struggle yourself, near ready to come from just this alone.

You manage to hang on, tangling your fingers in the damp hair at the base of his neck. You need more - always more. You start rocking your hips, urging him deeper. It feels so good you see spots in your vision. He moans and thrusts hard on instinct, bottoming out.

The pace builds, his hips snapping, each thrust precise and deep, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. The pressure builds so fast you barely register it, chasing your high and whatever he’ll give you, your omega instincts screaming for it.

He can tell. He quickens his pace, trying to get you there faster. It does the trick, because you come around him without warning. You pulse around him and he slows down, grinding his hips against you, letting you gush around him until your shaking subsides.

Seungcheol is still rock hard, cock throbbing. Your forehead rests against his forearm, Seungcheol leaning over you, caging you in.

“Can you take more?” You nod but he shakes his head, nosing your temple. “You have to verbally tell me.”

“Can take more.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

He kisses your temple and picks his pace back up.

It’s slower, but more defined. Deep. Seungcheol’s stroke is slow and deliberate, one of his hands slipping under your thigh to hike it up around his waist. That makes you whine, high-pitched and he loves it, mouth catching yours, drinking in all the sounds you make.

You’re close again, the pleasure building faster now, amplified by the way he watches you, eyes never leaving your face, like he’s memorizing every gasp, every moan. His hand slips between you, fingers finding your clit, still swollen from his mouth, and he rubs tight, relentless circles.

“Want you to come again,” he murmurs, voice raw. There’s a bit of a command in his voice, laced with something you swear is devotion. “Wanna feel you, baby. Give it to me.”

His words and the relentless drive of his cock are too much. You whimper, nails digging into his back and he leans down, lips brushing against your neck. Not biting - that’s far too advanced for whatever this is - and his fingers press harder, circling faster.

The coil in your belly snaps and your second orgasm crashes through you, sharper and more intense. Your body locks around him, walls pulsing as you come again. He groans, low and guttural, pleased by the way you clench around him. But he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it.

You’re shaking and oversensitive, but he’s not done. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, keeping you tethered.

“So good for me,” he praises, kissing your sweaty forehead. “So fucking perfect. You did so good.”

The praise makes your omega sing, and you cling to him, breathless, as he chases his own release. His hips stutter, breaths growing ragged, and with a final, deep thrust, he comes, spilling inside of you. He groans, dropping his forehead against you, shaking in your arms as he comes down from his high.

Finally, he collapses over you, careful not to crush you. You stay like that, a pile of tangled limbs, panting. His lips find your neck, kissing softly, soothing spots he’d nipped.

“You okay?” He croaks, voice hoarse with disuse.

You’re only slightly coherent, somewhere stuck between a dreamlike space where your omega is satiated and reality. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Good.”

“I’m gonna grab water, okay? I’ll only be gone for a second. Just gonna get water and then we can sleep for a little.”

“Mhmm.”

Seungcheol is hesitant this time when he gets up, no doubt worried about what happened the last time you thought he left. This time, you’re too out of it to really register how long it takes him to get water. One moment he’s out the door and the next the bed is dipping under his weight as he cradles your head to feed you water.

It’s cool and you come back to life a little, opening your eyes as you gulp, greedy. He admonishes you to be careful not to choke, tilting the glass so that the water isn’t gushing into your mouth. When you drain the glass, he smiles and kisses you.

“Good,” he hums, happy. That makes you beam at him, thrilled that he’s pleased. “More?”

You shake your head. “Tired.”

“Okay. Let me change the sheets - don’t move. I’ll work around you, okay?”

Somehow, he manages to. With a careful series of rolling you to the side and lifting you to slide new sheets under you, Seungcheol executes an impressive sheet change without really bothering you. He disappears once more to throw the spent sheets in the wash.

Upon his return, you’re barely awake. You reach for him anyway, buried somewhere underneath piles of blankets that smell like him. Finally.

Seungcheol lets you pull him into bed, sliding across the mattress until you’re flush chest to chest, the beating of his heart against yours. He smells good. Content. Happy. Your eyes blink heavily as you breathe him in, all pain forgotten.

“Sleep,” he mumbles, just as tired. “I’m not going anywhere.”

When you wake up again, you’re not really sure what time it is. All you know is that there is orange light burning through your blinds, something like late afternoon. More important, there’s an ache between your legs and there’s sweat on the back of your neck, already restless from whatever dream had woken you up.

The room is quiet, save for the soft rhythm of your breathing and Seungcheol’s steady exhales beside you. His arm is draped loosely over your waist. His scent is warm and spicy, grounding you. But beneath that cool calm his presence brings is a restless heat simmering, starting in your core and spreading to your limbs.

You try to ignore it, shutting your eyes and willing yourself back to sleep. It doesn’t go away, an ache growing in its place. A whine slips through your lips, despite your best efforts. The sound is small, but piercing through the stillness and before you can tamp down on it, Seungcheol is stirring, arm tightening briefly before he’s hooking a chin over your shoulder.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asks, voice low and rough with sleep. “You okay?”

His fingers brush back and forth across your waist. It’s supposed to be soothing but it’s almost maddening.

“Feel hot. Need you.”

Seungcheol presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder. You feel the curve of his smile. “I’ve got you.”

He moves slowly, peeling the sheets back. His hands are reverent, skimming your thighs and parting them as he settles between them. The air feels electric, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks through you.

Like always, Seungcheol takes his time. His lips start at your knee, kissing softly, then trailing higher, nipping the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You whimper, hips twitching, needy and desperate, and he hums, pleased.

“So needy,” he teases. You’re not embarrassed this time, knowing that with him, there’s nothing to be worried about.

He spreads your legs wider, exposing your warm, wet core. He bites his lower lip, teeth digging into the flesh as he groans, like he’s trying to fight himself on diving in and taking what he wants versus giving you what you need.

The first pass of Seungcheol’s tongue is slow and deliberate, a long, slow-soft drag through your folds that makes you gasp, hands fisting the sheets. He hums, the vibration making you twitch. His lips close gently around your clit, giving an experimental suck. You cry out and he grins, dragging his tongue to dip back down to your entrance for a taste.

Seungcheol is relentless, his mouth working you with a devotion that borders on obsession. His tongue traces every inch of you, slow and thorough, lapping up your slick like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He alternates between broad, languid strokes and precise flicks, learning your reactions, lingering where you tremble most. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you open, grounding you as you writhe, the slick coating his chin and lips only spurring him on.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling away for a second. He leans over your cunt and lets a string of spit and cum drip from his swollen mouth to your cunt before chasing it with his tongue. “I could stay here forever.”

He dives back in, tongue pressing into you, fucking you with slow, shallow thrusts of his mouth. Your moans are broken, and he takes it as encouragement, running his tongue in lazy circles, tasting all of you. Just as you start to near a soft high, his fingers join in, pressing in gently, making your vision blurry.

The first orgasm builds fast, your body already primed from the restless heat of your sleep. His fingers pump in time with his tongue, relentless, and when he sucks hard on your clit, you shatter. A cry tears from your throat, hips bucking against his face as slick gushes, your walls clenching around his fingers. He doesn’t stop, lapping through your tremors, drawing out every pulse until you’re shaking, oversensitive, whimpering his name.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick. “You can give me one more.”

You can. He knows it. You know it.

His mouth softens, less intense but no less thorough, kissing your folds gently before returning to your clit with slow, teasing licks. Your body protests, too sensitive, but the heat is already building again, coaxed by his worshipful attention. He’s patient, methodical, every movement calculated to keep you on the edge without overwhelming you. His fingers slide back in, slower this time, curling lazily, and you feel the stretch, the fullness.

Your second orgasm creeps up, slower but deeper, a steady wave that builds as he works you with unwavering focus. His tongue flicks faster, lips sealing around your clit, and when he hums, the vibration tips you over. You come with a sob, less sharp but more intense, your whole body trembling as pleasure rolls through you, slick coating his hand, his mouth. He laps at you softly, easing you through it, until you’re boneless, panting, your omega sated.

Seungcheol’s kisses turn languid, worshipping, cleaning up the mess he made, savouring every drop. Your hands loosen in the sheets and he finally pulls back, crawling back up to the bed, pressing scattered, wet kisses up your body as he does.

“Better?” He asks when he reaches your face, nose brushing against yours.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, dimples flashing, and settles beside you, pulling you into his chest. His scent surrounds you, grounding, and you feel the bond pulse, warm and steady.

“Rest a little. Then we’ll shower.”

The shower fills with steam and the scent of eucalyptus. Fog covers the shower door as hot water runs over you and Seungcheol. His broad frame stands behind you, hands gentle but firm as he massages shampoo into your hair, working slow circles into your scalp. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

If only for a moment, it’s perfect. Almost too perfect, which makes your chest tighten with a quiet ache. This is just Seungcheol helping you through your heat, a temporary balm for a fire that will ultimately flare again.

You don’t know how you ever did this without him before. Don’t know how you’re going to manage to do it without him in the future. After just a day, Seungcheol has flipped your scope of the world upside down, changing your heat cycle entirely.

Typically, it’s days of foggy suffering with suppressants to numb you. It’s a listlessness that chases you for days until your hormones are right again, until you can feel the sun on your face and let it make you smile.

Now, you don’t know what it’s supposed to be.

You turn to face Seungcheol. Water is streaming down his chest, catching the sculpted lines of his front. Each droplet clings to him in a way you understand - you want to cling to him too.

Seungcheol is breathtaking, all strength and quiet care. It’s a wonder that someone so powerful can also be so gentle. He’s unlike anything you expected, and breaks the norms of what you thought having an alpha help you through your heat might be like.

You don’t fool yourself into thinking there’s anyone else like him. You already know that this is just him, just Seungcheol. It makes a flicker of fear come to life in your chest, wondering what will happen when your heat fades and the intimacy here dissolves like the water flowing down the drain.

You push the thought down. Gliding your hands over his chest, your fingers chase the droplets of water, feeling the steady pulse of his heart beneath your palm. It makes you ache with need again, an always there need for him coming back to life.

Heat cycles are like that. They’re made up of peaks and lows, moments where the need is so high it drives you insane followed by a near catatonic need to drift and sleep.

Now, you’re approaching another peak, pulse picking up, body thrumming.

Seungcheol senses the shift immediately. He’s attuned to you quickly, but you refuse to let yourself wonder what that means. He steps closer, hands pulling at your waist, dipping his head to brush his mouth against yours in an almost kiss.

His eyes darken with a mix of concern and something darker. “What’s that look?”

He steps closer, pressing you against the tiled wall, water pooling where your bodies meet. The warmth of him, the slickness of his skin, feels like a dream you’re terrified to wake from. You don’t answer, can’t. Your hands dip lower, tracing the hard ridge of his abdomen, and he tenses, breath catching.

“Baby,” he warns, voice rough. There’s no real protest there. Just a playful warning, edged with want.

The endearment hits you like a spark, igniting you. You can’t get enough of it when he calls you that, when he says it velvet-soft and purring, when he says it like you are his baby. His world. His omega.

You sink to your knees, tiles cold and wet beneath you. You look up at him through wet lashes, biting your lower lip, hesitant, wanting permission. His cock is already hard - has been the entire time you’ve been in the shower - and the sight pulls a whine from your throat. You want to taste him. Want to make him feel good.

“Please,” you ask, still unmoving, hands resting on your thighs.

The way he looks at you - everent, undone - makes you feel like you’re everything, even if part of you whispers that this is just your heat talking, just his alpha responding to your need.

Seungcheol nods. He places one hand to brace against the wall as you lean in to press soft kisses to the base of his shaft, lips brushing his warm skin. He groans, the sound deep and raw, and it sends a tremble of excitement through you.

Your tongue traces the underside of his cock, following a thick vein from base to tip. You swirl your tongue greedily around the crown of his cock, tasting the faint salt of him. It’s intoxicating, perfect, and you let yourself sink into it, humming pleasantly.

One of his hands comes down to rest on top of your head, not pulling, not pushing, just anchoring himself as you take him into your mouth. You go slow, savoring the weight of him. He’s big, stretching your mouth painfully to the limit, but you relax, breathing in through your nose.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Shit fuck. That mouth.”

The praise makes your omega preen. You hum again, the vibration making his hips twitch as you build a steady rhythm, head bobbing, tongue working the underside of his cock while your hand wraps around the base, stroking in sync.

Water rains down on you, making everything fluid. Your lips glide effortlessly around him, your grip on him firm, squeezing gently as your hand meets your mouth on the upstroke. His groans grow louder, more desperate, hips twitching but never taking control of your pace. His fingers tighten on your head, and yet he remains in control of himself, letting you take what you want.

“Fuuuck, just like that,” He pants, head tipping back. Water falls down his throat in rivulets. The sight of him, vulnerable and unraveling, makes your pussy throb, a wave of arousal running down your thighs and mixing with the water.

You take him in deeper until your nose brushes his pelvis, swallowing around him. He makes a broken sound, half growl, half moan, and his hips finally jerk. You welcome his shallow thrusts eagerly, moaning around him, encouraging him.

Seungcheol looks down, eyes locking with yours. His are fucked out and fazed, the raw edge to his gaze making your heart beat faster. You pull back a little, focusing on the tip, sucking hard, tongue swirling. Your hand pumps faster and his breathing turns ragged, muscles in his stomach twitching. You know he’s close and it makes you grin up at him, mouth full of spit and precum.

“Gonna - fuck - come,” he warns, voice strained.

You don’t pull away. You suck at him harder, desperate to give him this, to hold onto this perfect moment. With a guttural sound, he spills into your mouth. You swallow down every drop, lips sealed until he’s over sensitive and shying away from your mouth.

Easing back, you look up at him, your knees aching. He pulls you to your feet and to his lips, pressing you into a kiss that’s deep and messy, tasting himself on your tongue. He licks into you, uncaring as he pulls you close to his chest.

“So good,” he murmurs between kisses. “Such a sweet girl for me.”

You grin as he turns you around, walking you forward so that you're pressed against the warm tile of the shower wall. “My turn.”

Soft, neon light filters in from your window, washing your room in a smear of watercolor. You fidget in bed, body coming alive, arousal starting in gentle waves, building the more your body catches up. Seungcheol is already awake beside you, sensing your need. His warmth is a quiet anchor.

Seungcheol’s lips brush your neck, nuzzling and scenting, his gentle possessiveness soothing your omega. You let out a soft sigh, going pliant for him. He hums, pleased at your easy submission, tongue darting out to lick your neck playfully.

He’s tender, peppering your shoulder and neck with soft, wet kisses. Each one stokes the steady fire in your core and chest. The way he handles you is maddening, like you’re spun glass but he knows you can take whatever he gives you. Your omega preens and you shift closer, feeling the heat of him against you.

This is different from earlier. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve done this. You’ve lost track of time and the days. There’s just this: Seungcheol’s hand sliding down to lift your leg up for him, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance, weeping and wanting for him.

Then he slides in, slow and stretching you inch by inch, earning a dreamy exhale from your trembling lips. He grinds his hips against the curve of your ass, deep and languid, easing the ache between your legs. His strokes are measured and intimate, each one dragging against your walls, stoking the flames without rushing.

You moan, breathy, as your slick coats his cock, the wet sounds of your bodies obscene in the silence of the room. His hand slides up, cupping your chest, thumb brushing back and forth over your nipple until it pebbles under his rapt attention. You arch into his touch, whimpering.

“So good for me,” he murmurs against your neck. His voice is rough with sleep, just how you like it.

Seungcheol keeps the pace slow, hips rolling lazily. It builds a steady burn. His lips find the pulse point below your ear, sucking gently, not enough to make tender, but enough to make you shiver, cunt leaking down your thighs.

You reach back, fingers sliding in his hair to tug softly. He groans, low and raspy, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal through you.

“Seungcheol,” you breathe, voice barely a whisper. “Cheol.”

He hums, pleased at the nickname. He grinds deeper, the friction perfect and overwhelming as the tip of his cock brushes against the soft spot inside of you, making you unwind.

Your eyes flutter open and you peer over your shoulder at him. The neon light catches the sweat on his skin, making him glow. You marvel at how beautiful he is, a powerful alpha, yours in this moment. Maybe not later, but you don’t think about that now, trembling as he brings you close to your orgasm like he’s done every time before.

His hand slips between your thighs, fingers seeking your clit, slick and swollen. He starts to circle the throbbing bud with agonizing slowness, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensation is devastating, punching the breath from your lungs. You rock your hips to meet his, desperate for your undoing, needing to come.

“Come on,” he urges, lips brushing your ear. He presses his fingers hard, circles them faster. Your breath catches and he feels it, deepening his thrusts, becoming more deliberate. “Come for me, baby.”

The words mixed with the intoxicating feeling of his cock makes you shatter, a soft cry spilling out of your lips as your pussy pulse around him, soaking him thoroughly. He groans, fucking you through it, slow and steady, drawing out the full length of your orgasm until you’re boneless and barely there.

But he’s not done. Seungcheol eases out carefully and shifts you onto your back. You blink, starry eyed and warm as you watch him slide down the bed and settle between your legs. Your thighs fall open at the sight of him and he groans, pleased at how you immediately know what he wants, ready to comply with your alpha.

No. Not your alpha. But he is right now and that’s all that matters.

Any fight on that subject vanishes as he kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs. His eyes are dark and burning when he looks up at you, pupils wide.

“Need to taste you,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.

Then, his mouth is one you, tongue dragging through your folds, lapping at the mess left over from your orgasm. It’s filthy, the way he moans into you, lips and chin glistening as he buries his face in your cunt. But it’s gentle, his tongue slow and worshipful, circling your clit.

It’s soothing, the way he moves, tongue tracing lazy patterns, circling your clit with no pressure, just presence. His hands rest on your hips, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there, grounding you further. Your fingers find his hair, threading loosely, not pulling, just holding, and he groans softly, the sound muffled against you. The ache in your core softens, not gone but eased, replaced by a warm, liquid comfort that spreads through your limbs.

Seungcheol mouths at you with no purpose other than to soothe and because he can. He doesn’t seem focused on getting you off, isn’t trying to overstimulate you. It builds a soft glow anyway, your breathing hitching as he keeps going, tongue dipping lower to taste your entrance, letting you drift toward the edge without pushing you toward it.

“Taste so good,” Seungcheol mumbles, mouth full of you.

This time, your orgasm comes like a tide, not crashing but rising, warm and steady. You whimper, hips shifting and he holds you steady, one hand sliding up to lace his fingers with yours. You squeeze his hand tight, letting him keep you tethered as you come undone, throbbing softly. He drinks you in, tongue lapping and slow, easing you until you’re limp and sated, the ache finally gone.

Seungcheol pulls back, mouth glistening neon in the low light. His eyes are heavy with something that you can’t read. When he crawls back up, you realize he’s come untouched, spilling his own release while getting you off. It makes your chest tighten, instincts purring at the proof of his want, his devotion to you.

He slides in beside you, kissing your temple before pulling you close.

“Better?” He rumbles, already half asleep.

“Better.”

“You have to eat.”

You huff. “Don’t want.”

You’re curled up on the couch in one of his jackets, inhaling deeply. His scent makes you tired, limbs heavy. You tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them to make yourself small. The blanket over your shoulders is warm and smells like him, making you sink further into the cushions.

Across the room, Seungcheol watches with thinly veiled amusement. He holds a steaming bowl in one hand, a spoon in the other. You love him like this, hair fluffy and still damp from a shower, glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose as he glares at you.

“You need to eat,” he repeats gently. It has to be the third or fourth time he’s said it, each time just as gentle as the last.

You grumble and turn away from him, hiding in your blankets. He sighs and pads over to you, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. Shirtless Seungcheol is a weapon in itself, but the way you smell him immediately, can tell he’s using pheromones against you, makes you growl at him. There’s no heat in it and he laughs.

“Yeah?” He teases. “Gonna growl at me?”

“I’m tired.”

“I know,” he coos, voice dropping into that low, soft register that always seems to settle you. “Your body is working hard. But you still need to eat something, baby. For me.”

“Meh.”

“I’ll feed you.”

That sparks your interest. You peek out from your blankets with one eye, peering at him. He smiles, dimples appearing when he sees he’s got you listening now. His scent wraps around you, luring you deeper into his spell.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll start pouting. I don’t care if I’m an alpha, I’m good at pouting.”

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. The image of him pouting is sweet. His smile grows, triumphant as he stands up to sit next to you on the couch. You sit up, squirming toward him.

“There she is,” he hums, happy. “Open up that pretty mouth for me.”

Blue light flickers from the TV while golden light of the afternoon sun washes the room, peeking through the blinds. You’re curled into Seungcheol’s side, his arm around your shoulders and your legs tangled together beneath the shared blanket. Jurassic Park plays quietly in the background because you asked for something familiar, something comforting.

Your heat is finally starting to fade, edging toward Stage 3. The decline leaves you exhausted, but the full haze of Stage 2 is lifting, leaving you with less thoughts of tangled bodies and tongues. You can feel it in the way your body no longer aches with desperation, clarity seeping in like a slow tide.

With the clarity comes unease. Because… Well, what now?

Neither of you have brought it up, the what happens next. Everything still feels good, but it also feels fragile, like you’re balancing in the quiet moment between inhale and exhale, waiting for the next breath to shatter whatever this little bubble you’re in.

Your fingers fidget lightly against his chest. He notices, as he always does, and his hand smooths down your arm in slow, comforting passes. You lean into him instinctively - you don’t know how you will ever unlearn this - basking in his warmth.

But your thoughts keep spinning.

You don’t know how to voice the big question, don’t know how to talk about it. Don’t know what the best approach is. So you pretend it isn’t there, staring at the TV screen with unseeing eyes, thoughts burning you from the inside out.

Seungcheol senses it anyway.

“What’s up?” He asks, lips pressed against the top of your head. His eyes are still on the screen, the movie reflected in the lense of his glasses.

“Did you know the stegosaurus had brains the size of walnuts?” You ask suddenly, eyes fixed. “Built like a bus with a very small brain. It was like two ounces.”

“Really?”

You nod, grateful he doesn’t question why you’re talking about dinosaurs again. “Yep. For years people thought they had a second brain somewhere near the anus.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m serious. There’s an enlarged area near their hips and early scientists thought it must have been for a second brain because they couldn’t believe something with so much mass could operate with such a small brain. Turns out it wasn’t an ass-brain.”

He huffs. “Ass-brain would have been cool.”

“Right? I always hated that people thought they were docile too. They literally have massive spiked tails as a built in morning star and could beat predators' asses. People need to put respect on them.”

“Hmm. Sounds like we’re talking about more than dinosaurs here.”

You go quiet. Your eyes flick toward the screen, but you’re not really seeing it. He’s not wrong. You chew your bottom lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket.

Of course it isn’t just about dinosaurs. You’ve always admired creatures like that, misunderstood, underestimated. Not flashy, not predators, not something people are afraid of on instinct, but fierce all the same. Stubborn. Ready to dig their heels in and fight if they had to.

Which is why you liked the stegosaur. You resonated with that. Maybe not the smartest or the strongest, but never easy to push over, always ready to bare teeth when push came to shove. It was why you liked working for Jeonghan, too, seeing a lot of that fight in him.

Which brings you back to thinking about work, and that tomorrow is a new work day, and your heat will most likely be fully complete. And you’ll have to go back to… normal?

You don’t know.

“Why are you so nervous?” Seungcheol asks, bringing you out of your reverie. You look at him, eyes wide. He gives you a soft smile. “What, think I didn’t notice?”

You hesitate. His face is open. Honest. He’s giving you no reason to hold back, no reason to hide from him. But what you have to say is scary.

You take a deep breath and think about the stegosaurus. “Because my heat is fading. And I know things felt intense and - to me - special. I just… what happens after?”

“What do you mean?”

Tears prick your eyes and you curse your hormones for making you emotional. “When my heat is over, what then? We go back to normal? I’m… I don’t know. Having a heat partner is new to me, and I’m not begging you to stay or make you feel bad, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupts, catching your face in his hands. His eyes are round, gentle. “I’m going to be honest, nothing is changing for me when your heat is over.”

You blink in surprise. See nervousness flicker across his face when he says carefully, “I stayed because I wanted to help you. I - look, I was already a little soft for you. Now that I’m here, I like being with you, heat or no. Even when you’re talking about dinosaur ass-brains.”

That makes you laugh and his smile lights up the room. “Really?”

“Really, baby.”

His thumb brushes across your cheek, catching a single salty tear. “Unless you don’t want-”

“I want,” you insist. “I want so much. I have never wanted this much in my life.”

“Then I’ll stay. I’m yours.”

“Even if I start talking about ass-brains?”

“Even then.”

The air in the room shifts, charged with something warm and unspoken. You move without thinking, surging forward and climbing into his lap where he sits on the couch. The soft fabric of his shirt brushes your thighs as you straddle him, your hands settling on his shoulders. He feels solid and warm beneath you.

Seungcheol’s hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your forehead rests against his, breathes mingling, and for a second, you just stay there. Savoring the intimacy. Savoring his scent, bergamot and cardamom.

“You’re sure?” You ask, voice small.

“Very sure.”

His hands slip upward, slow, under the hem of his hoodie. His fingers graze the sensitive skin of your waist, making you shiver as heat pools low between your legs. You lean in and kiss him softly, lips brushing, then pressing, slow and deliberate.

You deepen the kiss, unhurried. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, tasting you, opening you up. You shift, grinding down on him gently, feeling the hardening length of him through his sweats. He makes a sound, soft and low, and it buzzes through your mouth. You feel yourself grow wet against your underwear and he sucks in a sharp breath, catching it.

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your mouth, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are fathomless but warm. His hands push the hoodie up and over your head, baring your chest to him. His eyes flicker and he curses. “You’re so perfect.”

You flush, shy under his gaze. His lips find your collarbone, kissing softly before drifting lower, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your breast. Your head falls back as the cool air hits you, your eyes closed.

He takes a nipple into his wanting mouth, tongue swirling, sucking gently. You gasp, hips rocking instinctively, grinding harder against him. The friction is delicious. He groans against your skin, sending sparks through you.

Seungcheol’s hands stay on your hips, encouraging your slow, rolling movements. He doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t push. It’s soft, the couch slightly creaking under the weight of you.

His mouth moves to the swell of your other break, lavishing it with the same care. His teeth graze just enough to make you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. You feel slick drip down your thighs, not as heavily as before, but still just as ready for him.

“Cheol,” you breath, voice shaky.

He hums, lips sealed around your nipple. The wet buzz of his mouth makes you grind on him faster, chasing the heat in your belly.

Seungcheol pulls back just enough to look up at you, eyes glassy. “Love watching you like this. Love feeling you. Want you like this.”

He pulls back just enough to tug at his sweatpants, shoving them down his thighs, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening. You bite your lip, the sight making your core clench, and he catches the look, a soft smirk tugging at his mouth.

Carefully, he helps you kick your sweatpants off. You sit back in his lap, not bothering with your underwear. He pushes them to the side with a careful finger, his knuckle deliberately dragging over the wet heat of your pussy.

“Fuck. Wet.”

You nod as he grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit high on your knees. He rubs the rib through your messy folds, both of you moaning in unison before the head catches your entrance and sticks. You sink down, taking him slowly, the stretch punching the breath from your lungs.

His shirt stays on, bunched where you fist it against his chest. It is work, sitting on him fully. You feel him deep in your stomach, your breath turning ragged. You savor the fullness, hands tangled in his shirt.

Taking a deep breath, you start to move. His hands grip your hips, not controlling but encouraging, letting you set whatever pace you want. His cock drags against your walls, smooth and fluid. His lips find your chest, mouthing at a nipple, sucking gently.

Your nails dig into him through the fabric of his shirt, the wet heet of his mouth, the press of his cock, all of it driving you mad, sticky with sweat as you continue to use him however you want.

He lets you, content to suck and mouth at your chest all the while. The couch creaks faintly, a quiet underscore to the soft filth of it all, your slick coating him, dripping down to soak his sweatpants, the way his shirt clings to his sweat-damp chest.

Pleasure builds, slow and warm, a glow that starts in your core and spreads. You grind deeper, chasing it, and he groans, head tipping back, eyes half-lidded but never leaving you.

“How could I ever wanna leave this?” He asks. “How could I ever want anything but the perfect omega?”

The words, the way he says them, tip you over, and your orgasm comes soft but deep, a gentle pulse that has you trembling, walls clenching around him, a quiet moan spilling from your lips.

The way you tighten pushes him to the edge, and he groans, low and broken, thrusting up once, twice, before he comes, hot and thick inside you. His hands grip you tighter, pulling you close, and you collapse against him, panting, forehead pressed to his, the fabric of his shirt sticking to your skin.

“Mine,” he assures you, giving you a gentle kiss. “Ass-brain and all.”

“Please,” you laugh.

That single word makes him melt, makes him all soft at the edges. “Anything for you, baby.”

The office feels noticeably cooler when you return, the hum of the air conditioning a welcome sound after days away. Cold air brushes the back of your neck as you step off the elevator, a stark contrast to the lingering warmth on your skin, not from the building, but from Seungcheol following close behind you.

Seungcheol’s presence is unmistakable. And people notice.

Jeonghan is the first. He’s perched near Wonwoo’s cubicle, half-lounging on the edge when he glances up and spots you. His gaze flicks from you to Seungcheol, then back again. His eyes widen. A slow grin spreads across his face, and he immediately points a finger.

“You-”

“Not a word,” Seungcheol warns, voice low as he slides a steadying hand to the small of your back and gently guides you toward your desk. Your cheeks heat, teeth sinking into your cheek to suppress a laugh as Jeonghan starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“We’re just walking, Jeonghan,” you mumble, feeling anything but casual.

“You’re glowing!”

Wonwoo straightens in his chair, peering over his cubicle wall. His brow lifts as he spots Seungcheol casting a warning glance back at Jeonghan, lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk.

“I knew it,” Jeonghan asserts, looking at you and nodding. “He’s always thought you were the cutest omega. Does he know you’re obsessed with dinosaurs yet?”

“Ugh, Jeonghan.”

“Yes,” Seungcheol confirms with a flat grin. “You remind me of a Stegosaur, Jeonghan. Very… you have similar brains.”

You snort before slapping your hand over your mouth in horror.

Jeonghan saints at him. “I don’t get it.”

Seungcheol ignores him, turning to you instead. He brushes his fingers against your arm, and his gaze softens instantly, all gruffness melted into something warm and fond. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You nod, smiling despite yourself as he walks away calm. Sure. Unmistakably yours.

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whore-anghaereads · 2 months ago

Text

😭😭😭😭😭😭

I fucking love subby mingyu aghghhskdjbeidn with his lil shyness and degredation, wanting a good boy.

The build to this was lovely and we stan communication and negotiation before sex !!!

I kind of wanted a call back to the him wanting to lick sweat off of y/n but i’m a lil freak sooo 🙈

A+, 10/10. As usual 💕

puppy boy

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You have an ulterior motive with Mingyu, but you’d bet your right arm he has one too. Most of the guys you’ve met who are into you don’t bother with getting to know you, or having similar interests. Men in this day and age have - for the most part - lost their ability to engage in the nuances of wooing, but there’s something about this cute, beefy art major that tells you he might just have what it takes to build something meaningful with you.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, masturbation, mention of porn addiction, foreplay, ‘weird kinks’, massaging, breast worship, body worship, oral, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, man handling, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of voyuerism, degradation, praise, dirty talk, Mingyu is a switchy simp, big cock Mingyu agenda, fingering, etc… I pet names: (his) puppy boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.8k

🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, perv!Mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This is part 3 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand-alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and this Mingyu fic concludes the series. Find the completed masterlist here.

Prologue:

Mingyu had joined the Sigma Veta Tau frat for brotherhood, and at first, everything had been sunshine and rainbows for the Art major. He’d found friends that he knows will be lifelong mates, and it feels as if his family has truly grown at least another twelve members.

However, things have changed since he joined.

Now, two of his closest friends have started dating, and suddenly, the whole ‘Bros before hoes’ thing has gone out the window.

Mingyu’s not mad about it per se, in fact, it’s kind of nice to see Seungcheol and Wonwoo enjoying life- but there are other factors to consider.

The first factor is that Mingyu no longer seems to have gym buddies. Turns out that tonight, instead of their usual Monday workout, Seungcheol and Wonwoo are at a double date business meeting.

Which leads to factor number two. Wonwoo is a notorious camboy, and Seungcheol’s girlfriend is as well, in fact, Seungcheol’s girlfriend is BabyDoll246, who, up until recently, Mingyu used to watch religiously every time he needed to get his rocks off.

Mingyu doesn’t even know what this whole ‘buisness meeting’ thing is about- Seungcheol is probably doing a presentation for everyone about numbers and aesthetics and how to make a ‘brand,’ because that’s what Seungcheol does. Even though the whole scenario sounds boring, for some reason, Mingyu wishes he was invited.

So things are a little complicated.

Mingyu feels jealous, and left out- and horny… there’s only so much distraction free weights can provide, so in order to distract himself, Mingyu begins to look at the people around him.

Since the gym is on university property, there are a lot of cute girls his age. Most are scantily clad in booty shorts and sports bras, and Mingyu thanks god for feminism and the right to bare skin.

Then his eyes find you.

You’re a frequent gym goer, like him, and Mingyu would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you.

You’re in one of those oversized tshirt and booty short combos that drive Mingyu wild- after all, what does your body look like under the fabric?

He’s got a pretty good imagination, and Mingyu finds himself practically drooling as he watches you do some sets on a shoulder machine.

When you’re done, you stand up, reaching for your water. You turn to look at the gym as you drink, and your eyes meet.

Mingyu is quick to avert his gaze, his skin flushing with embarrassment at having been caught staring.

In an effort to further distract himself, Mingyu moves to the lying barbell section, where he begins to put weights onto either end.

“Hey.” Your voice draws his attention, and Mingyu’s heart almost leaps out of his chest to find you standing right next to him.

“Hi.”

“Where are your friends?” you ask, taking another sip of your water.

“My friends?”

“Yeah, those two guys you’re always here with.”

So you’ve noticed him too. “Oh, uh, they’re on a double date tonight,” Mingyu says shyly.

You nod. “Looks like you need a spotter then.”

“I’ll be okay-”

“The girl I usually come with broke her wrist at volleyball last week, so I’ll need a spotter too,” you tell him. “Maybe we can help each other out?”

Mingyu swallows thickly. “Yeah, uh, okay.”

It feels awkward for him to lie down on the bench, adjusting his hands on the barbell while he looks up at you.

He wonders how well you’d actually be able to spot him if something was to go wrong, but he supposes that’s not the point. In reality, he’s going to be helping you while you’re doing your sets more than you’ll be helping him, but Mingyu doesn’t really mind.

He’s never dropped a barbell in his life, and he’s not about to drop it now with a gorgeous girl looking down at him.

“I’m y/n, by the way,” you say.

“Mingyu,” he responds.

“What’s your major?”

“Art, you?”

“Funny, you don’t look like an artist,” you laugh.

Mingyu cracks a smile. “What do I look like?” he asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know, but not an artist.” Mingyu continues his set and after a moment you speak again. “I’m in nutrition.”

“That explains it,” Mingyu says under his breath.

“Explains what?”

That you’re sexy as fuck.

“Uh, that, well, you know, you work out?” Mingyu stumbles over his words. “I mean, if you’re into nutrition, it makes sense you’re into the gym too.”

“I guess.”

Mingyu can tell from your smirk that you can probably guess his real reasoning, and he can feel his palms getting sweaty- suddenly, holding onto the barbell isn’t as easy as it usually is.

Mingyu realizes he may have overestimated his ability to keep things cool while you’re watching over him, and he pauses his set.

“You good?” you ask.

“Yeah, just uh, need water.”

One:

It’s been a couple of days since you met Mingyu at the gym, and you’re surprised to see him during a trip to the pool.

Once again, the beautiful man is alone, and you wait for him to finish swimming a lap so you can talk to him.

“Hey, stranger,” you grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You watch the way he swallows thickly, and you can practically see him fighting the urge to look at your swimsuit.

It’s nothing flashy, after all, you’re here to work out, not to show off. But you know Mingyu’s probably wondering what you look like under your baggy gym shirts, after all, he’s a man, so it’s not like he’s hard to predict.

“Hey,” Mingyu says. “Uh, how have you been?”

You shrug. “Been okay. Do you come to the pool often?”

“Sometimes, if my muscles are sore. You?”

“My kinesiology buddy suggested I implement swimming into my routine, a similar thought pattern to you, better for the muscles and the body.”

You see Mingyu’s attitude shift. “I guess a kinesiology buddy would know a lot about that.”

It takes you a moment, but you realize that Mingyu must think your ‘buddy’ is a man, and that maybe you’re taken or on the precipice of a relationship.

God, Mingyu is so easy to read.

“She’s pretty smart,” you note, “my kinesiology buddy.”

Again, an entire emotional shift in Mingyu, and it would almost be laughable if it weren’t so cute.

This man has a schoolboy crush on you, that much is obvious.

“So… where are your friends?” you ask.

“They’re with their girlfriends,” Mingyu sighs, and you get the sense that he’s not too happy about his workout buddies being more loved up than juiced up.

“Maybe we should just be workout buddies,” you suggest.

Mingyu’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

You shrug. “Why not? We have similar work out schedules already, it wouldn’t be that difficult to sync them.”

“I’d actually love that,” Mingyu admits, and you love how pretty and glowy he looks.

You have an ulterior motive with Mingyu, but you’d bet your right arm he has one too. Most of the guys you’ve met who are into you don’t bother with getting to know you, or having similar interests. Men in this day and age have - for the most part - lost their ability to engage in the nuances of wooing, but there’s something about this cute, beefy art major that tells you he might just have what it takes to build something meaningful with you.

It’s not that you’re necessarily looking for a relationship, but you wouldn’t say no to one either.

Overall, you just want a connection with a man that’s not solely built on him pressing you for a one night stand, and as horny as Mingyu clearly is, there’s a shyness to him too, a shyness that draws you in.

Two:

Mingyu’s at it again. He’s found a new camgirl to jerk over, but even as he watches the pretty brunette stroke her pussy, his mind keeps wandering to you.

You’ve been workout buddies for two weeks now, and God, there are so many instances and interactions that have gone straight into Mingyu’s spank bank.

There’s something about the way you look when you’re sweating- fuck, Mingyu could just lick it up if that wasn’t such a taboo thing to admit.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he puts his computer to the side, closing his eyes and imagining that you’re the one whimpering and moaning.

Mingyu is man enough to admit that he’s a bit of a pervert. He knows it, he accepts it- he’s ashamed of it sure, but in that shame is something that only arouses him further. A certain type of obsession with self-degradation. He’s a bad boy, and being sinful only makes him harder as he strokes his cock.

He imagines you in the pool with water glistening on your skin- and that image turns into you in the gym doing dumbbells, sweat on your brow.

Mingyu groans, pumping himself harder. He can feel the tension building in his balls, the tingling sensation that’s beginning to brew.

He thinks about the way you encourage him to do more sets, the way he teases you that you’re his ‘drill sargent’ and you’ll sometimes aquiesce by telling him to drop and give you twenty-

Fuck, why are you so sexy?

Why does he want you to tell him what to do all the time?

He imagines what it would sound like if you told him to be a good boy and cum for you- and just like that, he pops.

Mingyu cums hard, a groan escaping him as he fist fucks himself through it, his hips shaking, sweat on his brow-

Mingyu can’t even bring himself to care that he’s cum all over his own chest, and as he finishes, he lets out a sigh, his hands falling to the bed next to him.

He’s so into you, and it’s not just your body. You’re an interesting person, and you’d sensed he needed a gym partner. Your presence has made the lack of Wonwoo and Seungcheol feel better, and that’s not something Mingyu will undervalue.

The only problem is… Mingyu’s one of the horniest men he knows, and he’s aware that his extreme sex drive may just be a problem.

Three:

In the three weeks you’ve been working out with Mingyu, you’ve had enough situational awareness to see how other women in the gym stare at him.

And it’s not like you can blame the other girls, after all, you also used to look at him when he wasn’t going to notice.

Mingyu is hard not to look at, he’s just so big and pretty, and his muscles bulge like nothing else when he’s doing sets.

The two of you are going hard today, and you’ve come to an agreement that for every ten sets you complete, Mingyu gets to ask you a question, and vice versa.

He’s asked you some regular run of the mill things, like your favourite movie, what inspired you to do the degree you’re working on- but then, out of knowhere, Mingyu asks, “Why are you single?”

Mingyu must notice the way you falter, your grip adjusting on the machine, and he’s quick to try to remedy it.

“I just mean, you’re pretty, and nice, and all that sort of stuff, so, I’m just confused,” he says.

“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, trying to tailor your response to intrigue the pretty man. “I have a pretty big drive for physical sensation, if that makes sense. It’s why I gym a lot, and it can be intimidating for guys. Also, I’m not into the whole one-night stand thing, and that seems to be all men want these days.”

“Wait, you’re saying, you’re uh… your sex drive is too big for most guys to handle?” Mingyu chokes.

“I’m just a girl with needs who doesn’t put out unless we’re actually dating,” you shrug.

Hook, line, and sinker.

You can see Mingyu getting hard through his gym shorts, and he coughs awkwardly.

“Uh, let’s switch,” he suggests, and you almost want to laugh.

You acquiesce, and in his newly seated position, Mingyu is able to hide his boner from you, but you’ve already seen it, and confidence is now surging through you.

Mingyu does his first ten reps, and you don’t bother to start with easy questions.

“Why are you single?”

You watch the way Mingyu swallows thickly.

“I uh.. Well, I’ve kind of got, sort of, um, weird tastes.”

“Like what?” you ask, and to your annoyance, Mingyu makes you wait for another full set before answering.

“I guess it’s the sort of thing you kind of have to see for yourself, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“But we’re talking about weird tastes in bed, right?”

Mingyu nods, his ears turning red.

“Look, I just told you I don’t fuck around unless it’s going in the direction of something more than fuck buddies or one night stands,” you tell him. “So, I’d love to see these ‘weird tastes,’ but only if you’re actually interested in something with me.”

It’s been three weeks of getting to know each other, if Mingyu’s not sure what he wants yet, then that’s on him. You’re being direct, and you’re not going to feel bad about that.

“I’m interested,” Mingyu confirms quickly.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Tomorrow is usually your rest day, and you’ve never really asked what Mingyu gets up to when you’re not at the gym or pool.

“Tomorow would be great,” he confirms.

“Then it’s a date,” you conclude. “Tomorrow you can show me these weird tastes that apparently make it hard for you to find a woman.”

“And maybe you can show me about this whole ‘drive for physical sensation’ thing you have.”

God, your panties are wet just thinking about it.

Four:

It feels a little odd to have Mingyu in your one bedroom on campus apartment. This is uncharted waters, and the usual social map that you use at places like gym and pool is no longer here to guide you.

The two of you know what you’re here to do, but it’s clear you’re both shy about it as you go to sit on your bed.

Being shy isn’t usually something you experience, but you also haven’t had a legitimate dating prospect in a while, especially not one as handsome as Mingyu, so you’re being careful not to mess anything up.

You find yourself lying next to Mingyu, both of you looking up at your ceiling.

“So… tell me about your weird tastes?” you suggest.

He swallows thickly. “What if you tell me some of yours first?”

You laugh. He’s even more shy than you are. “I guess, manhandling is fun. Feeling small and being able to be thrown around is hot.”

Mingyu nods. “I like that you’re smaller than me too. But… I also kind of like that, when we’re at the gym, you get bossy with me.”

This is an interesting development, and you sit up, resting your elbow against the pillow so you can look at Mingyu while you brace your head with your palm. “So you’re not very dominant?”

“Not really,” Mingyu says shyly.

“More into the whole ‘good boy’ thing.”

You note the way Mingyu reacts, his gaze meeting yours, his breath catching. “Yeah.”

“What else?” you prompt. “There has to be something else for people to consider your tastes ‘weird.’” He stays quiet and you lean forward, letting your lips ghost past his ear. “Be a good boy and tell me.”

Mingyu swallows thickly, and you note the way he’s begun to fidget with his fingers where his hands are resting on his chest.

“I guess… I’m really into porn? Which is horrible, I know it’s bad for your brain and stuff, but I really just can’t help myself. There’s this word for it, where you like to watch people-”

“Voyeurism.”

“Yeah, voyeurism,” Mingyu nods. “I don’t know, it’s like… watching other people, and, you know, touching myself while I watch-”

“Lots of people like porn,” you assure him.

“Yeah, but, I watch it a lot.”

He’s looking at you now with an expression you’ve never seen on Mingyu’s face. It’s as if he’s waiting for something, and after a moment, you realize what it might be.

“You like the way it makes you feel,” you note, “how it makes you feel dirty, but you’re also eager to redeem yourself by being a good boy.”

“Exactly. I think it’s also because I’ve been single for a while, I mean, if I’m in a relationship with someone, I don’t think I’ll need to watch as much.”

It’s definitely an interesting kink.

Sinning by watching porn, then proving yourself to be a good boy by doing sexual favours- or at least, that’s what you assume he means.

Mingyu is really just a puppy boy, and there’s something so adorable and endearing about this large, beautiful man, admitting these things to you.

Well, he’s told you he likes when you take control, so you muster up your confidence to take the reins.

“A lot of people in this university make sex videos,” you note. “If you do well tonight, if things go well between us, maybe one day we can make our own videos.”

Mingyu makes a choked sound, and you note the way his cock is starting to rise in his sweatpants. “Really?”

“Maybe, if you do well,” you repeat. “Why don’t…” you trail your finger across his cheek, “you show me what you’ve learned from all these educational videos you’ve watched?”

Mingyu swallows thickly, and then he sits up a little. “Can I kiss you?”

“You can do anything you want.”

Mingyu is slow about it even though he now has permission. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, and he leans forward, eyes double checking you’re actually okay.

Even though you’d both known you were meeting up to fuck, he’s still being careful about it, and that makes you like him even more. A man who respects boundaries? Husband material for sure.

You appreciate that he’s testing the waters, but you’re eager to dive right in, so you make the final move.

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his eagerly.

Mingyu groans, cupping your face to kiss you back.

He tastes good, and he’s not too forceful with his tongue, which gently strokes your lip to ask for entrance.

As you kiss, he shifts, slowly moving so he can be on top of you. Your legs open for him, and he slots against you.

You can feel how hard he is already, and when you tangle your fingers in his hair, he moans louder against you, rutting gently for stimulation.

Mingyu’s lips move to your throat, and he also teases your ear a little, which sends a shiver through you.

One of his hands slips under your shirt, and he grabs your boob over your bra, massaging you tentively.

“Take it off,” you tell him, arching your back in an effort to do it yourself.

Between the two of you, you’re able to remove your shirt, and you also remove your bra, making yourself bare to Mingyu from the waist up.

“You’re so pretty,” he muses, sitting up and looking down at you. Both of his hands find your breasts, and he begins to massage you. “Do you have any oil or anything?”

In preparation for this, you’d put a few sexy items in your bedside table, so it’s easy enough to reach for the coconut oil you have hidden there.

Mingyu drips some oil onto his hands, and then he begins to massage your breasts again.

The silky sensation of the oil makes you moan, and you relax against the bed, closing your eyes to enjoy it all.

You love a man who takes his time to worship you, and no one has massaged your chest in a very long time.

His thumbs brush over your nipples and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

When you look up at Mingyu, you find his gaze fixed to your chest, as if he’s bewitched by the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.

You love how big his hands are, how soft and warm-

Even so, you’re eager for more.

You haven’t had sex in a while, and your core is almost starting to hurt with anticipation.

This must be what blue balls feels like- or at least, the female equivalent, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around Mingyu’s wrist to make him stop.

“I know what your hands do,” you tell him, “but what about your mouth?”

You’re almost a little shocked at the confidence you seem to have gained, but being confident with Mingyu just comes naturally.

You know he’s man enough to take commands from a woman, in fact, he enjoys doing what he’s told, and something about that is so immensely sexy.

Mingyu shifts down the bed, and he hooks his fingers in your sweatpants, looking up at you for permission.

“Go ahead,” you nod.

The large, beefy man slowly slides your pants down your legs, and then he situates himself between your thighs. He starts by massaging your muscles, pressing kisses along your skin as he slowly works up to where you need him most.

You can feel his breath through your panties, and you shift against the bed, core throbbing already.

Then, Mingyu kisses you through the fabric, and it’s such an interesting sensation.

He begins to lick, pushing his tongue at your panties.

“Just take them off,” you groan.

Mingyu is quick to do as he’s told, and you lift your legs to make the process easier, leaving you completely bare for him.

Upon returning to his spot between your legs, Mingyu begins kissing your thighs again, and this time, as he slowly makes his way up to your pussy, you know there’s nothing standing in the way of him pleasuring you.

He kisses your clit, and the sensation makes you twitch.

Your hands snake down to grab at his hair, and he looks up at you.

Something in his eyes tells you he really enjoys you having a hold on him like this.

“Show me what your mouth can do,” you repeat, body tense with anticipation.

Mingyu wastes no time now, he dives in, and this time, he holds nothing back.

His tongue pushes into you, hot, puffy lips making full contact on your core as he licks and eats and slurps.

He’s a messy eater, and you actually kind of love it.

You love how lost he gets in it, how his eyes close, his hands gripping your thighs on either side of his head as he groans against your pussy.

Then you realize the rest of his body is moving too, his hips are wiggling, as if he’s looking for stimulus while he eats you out.

Fuck, he’s so hot- grinding against the bed, so turned on from giving you oral that he can’t even help himself.

“Just like that,” you tell him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes to focus on the sensation.

You’d been so wet and needy just from him massaging your breasts, and now that he’s eating you out- well, you know you’re not going to last long.

Some men don’t know what to do with a woman’s body, but Mingyu isn’t one of those men.

It looks like he has actually learned a thing or two from watching copious amounts of porn, which is kind of shocking if you’re being honest with yourself.

Mingyu shifts, and then a finger is pushing into your wet heat, his mouth now giving its full attention to your sensitive clit.

He pumps his digit in and out, and you can feel how wet and slick you are by the ease in which he fingers you.

One becomes two, and he adjusts his hand, his digits crooking up toward your g-spot.

You’re practically squelching now, and moans are escaping you without barriers. You want Mingyu to know how good he’s making you feel, and there’s no use in restricting yourself.

You begin to move, wiggling your hips so you can help him pleasure you, and your motions make Mingyu groan. He sucks your clit even harder, his hot tongue flicking the sensitive bud with more force as he fingers you.

“I’m close,” you tell him.

Mingyu only moans in response, his motions getting faster as he worships your core.

You close your eyes, focusing entirely on the ecstasy he’s providing you.

Your muscles are getting tighter, your body preparing yourself for the orgasm that hits mere moments later.

You let out a gasp, your core clamping down on Mingyu’s fingers as pleasure erupts through you. It hits you in waves, making you moan and whimper at each contraction of your pussy around Mingyu’s fingers.

Your clit is ultra sensitive, but fuck, it feels so good-

Mingyu continues to eat you out as you cum, and it almost boarders on being too good- but you’re not about to push him away for being too good.

Your hips are still wiggling, your body unconsciously wanting your orgasm prolonged- you’re a glutton for punishment and pleasure in that way, but you know Mingyu doesn’t mind.

Finally, you begin to push at Mingyu’s head, and he pulls away, looking up at you.

“Do you want another?” he asks innocently.

You laugh. “Want you inside me.”

“I am inside you,” he smiles, his fingers pushing in and out of you again, making an obscene squelching sound that has your skin heating with embarrassment.

“You know what I mean,” you tut.

Mingyu takes his digits out of you, plopping them in his mouth to suck clean while he groans. When he’s done cleaning himself off, he sits up. “So uh… condoms?”

“I’m on birth control, are you clean?”

“I’m clean,” he nods.

“Then fuck me.”

Mingyu starts by taking his shirt off, and you marvel at his toned muscles. This man works out at least four days of the week, and it shows.

He’s so sexy, you’re pretty sure you’re drooling, and you swallow thickly.

“Suck a pretty puppy boy,” you whisper.

“Puppy boy?”

“Yeah, you’re a puppy boy,” you insist.

He looks at you for a moment, and then you note the way his shoulders relax. “I like that.”

“Here,” you sit up. “Lie down.”

Mingyu does what he’s told, like any good puppy boy would, and you take control.

“Lift your hips,” you instruct next, and when he follows through, you tear his sweats and his underwear off with one rough tug.

The biggest cock you’ve ever seen slaps up against his stomach, and your jaw drops.

“Holy shit.”

Mingyu flushes a pretty shade of pink. Leave it to him to be shy about how big his dick is as opposed to turning into a cocky piece of shit like most men would.

You can’t help but wrap your hand around him, bringing your mouth to his tip to suck on it.

Mingyu groans immediately, grabbing at your bed sheets as you begin to suck him off.

It helps that you’re practically drooling, but even so, he’s so large that you really can’t take a lot of him.

After a minute, you sit up. “Pass me the oil.”

He does as he’s told like the good puppy boy he is, and you coat your hand in the slick.

When you return to blowing him, you begin to pump what you can’t reach with your mouth, twisting and squeezing and teasing.

Mingyu groans louder, and you give the act of pleasuring him your all, as he’d just given you.

When a man treats you well, it’s only right that you treat him well in return, and something tells you that if things with Mingyu continue, there are going to be a lot of moments like this one.

You love sucking on his mushroom tip, teasing him endlessly as he groans and shifts below you.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Mingyu tells you.

You hum happily around him, and he moans even louder.

Then, you pull your mouth off of him, continuing your motions with your hand. “Part of me wants to just tease you like this for hours.”

“And the other part?” he asks.

“Wants to ride you.”

He swallows thickly. “Can… can you ride me, please?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

You sit up fully, straddling him. But you don’t immediately put him inside of you, instead, you lean forward to kiss him, grinding down against his oil slicked cock so you can lubricate yourself.

You know this isn’t going to be easy getting him inside of you, after all, his cock is massive, but teasing both of you like this will make the process smoother.

Mingyu kisses you eagerly, grabbing the back of your neck with one hand and your hip with the other. He applies pressure to help you wiggle against him, and your oiled breasts make the whole situation extra nice and slippery.

Soon, Mingyu’s hips begin to twitch, and you know you’ve teased him long enough.

You reach between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock so you can line him up with your core.

You’re gentle with yourself as you sink onto him, taking just the tip at first to get used to the stretch.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, panting already.

“Be patient for me,” you tell him, taking another inch.

Mingyu decides to distract himself by grabbing your breasts, and he begins massaging you again, making you groan as you do your best to take more and more of him.

He toys with your nipples and a shiver of pleasure runs through you.

Another inch.

It’s good to be on top of him for your first time. You’re sure Mingyu would have been gentle if he was on top, but you’re happy to have full control of the penetration speed. Your core is twitching tightly around the massive intrusion, but you’re not someone who gives up. You take inch after inch until you’re finally fully seated on top of Mingyu.

You both groan desperately from the sensation, and you begin to swivel your hips.

“So deep,” you whimper.

“So tight,” he echoes back.

You lean over him again, pressing your lips to his so you can bounce up and down. Mingyu’s hands find your hips and he kisses you back desperately.

God, he feels absolutely unreal.

You pride yourself on being someone with a lot of stamina in bed, so you’re prepared to ride him until your thighs are burning- but then Mingyu begins to thrust up to meet you, and suddenly he’s hitting even deeper.

You let out a deep moan, staying still so he can fuck up into you.

And that’s when you decide you want to know what doggy with Mingyu feels like.

“Shit, okay, fuck,” you swallow thickly. “Want you to fuck me from behind.”

“Okay,” he pants.

You pull off of him, adjusting on the bed while he sits up to get onto his knees.

Your ass is in the air, but your lower body is close to the bed, back arched.

Mingyu brings his cock to your wet hole, and he slowly pushes in. Your core is absolutely soaked, and it’s easier for him to enter you now than the first time.

Soon, his front is flush to your back, and he grabs your hips.

“Okay, fuck me,” you tell him.

Mingyu doesn’t waste any time, he begins to rut into you. His grip is tight on your skin, and he pulls you back to meet each thrust.

He’s so deep that you’re seeing stars. Sounds are leaving your mouth that you’ve never heard come from you before.

Each thrust is magic, filling you unlike anything else ever has.

You’d mentioned you like manhandling, and this is what you were talking about.

You can feel Mingyu’s power in the way that he’s pulling you back and forth like a rag doll. There’s something so sexy about allowing a man the chance to use you, about being the one in control even while he decimates your pussy.

You can feel your orgasm begining to bubble up inside of you again, and you know from the sounds Mingyu’s making that he’s probably close to- after all, you’ve got to cum once, but so far, all of this has been foreplay for Mingyu.

“I’m getting close,” you whimper.

“Me too,” Mingyu admits. “Lay flat for me.”

It takes a moment to resposition, but now you’re on your stomach. Mingyu’s still fucking you, but now he’s laid over your back. His breath is hot against your throat and you turn your head so Mingyu can press his lips to yours.

He’s straddling your closed legs, but your back is still slightly arched so he can enter you easily.

This angle has him hitting spots you’ve never had touched, and it feels like heaven.

Your bodies are fully pressed together, there’s no distance like in doggy, and you love that this will be the position you both come in.

It’s close, but your back is still to him, so it’s not as vanilla and domestic as something like missionary.

Mingyu’s groaning more and more, and you echo his sounds with whimpers of your own.

“Shit,” Mingyu cusses. “I want to cum with you.”

“Then cum for me, I’m so close,” you whimper.

“Fuck,” he groans again, fucking you even harder.

The whole bed is rocking, but that only turns you on more as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m almost there,” you whimper, body tensing on the verge of ecstasy.

“Me too, me too,” he moans.

He presses his lips to yours and that sends you over the edge.

Your core clamps down hard on his cock and Mingyu moans desperately, his cock twitching inside of you before he explodes.

The orgasm is all-consuming, and every sensation is Mingyu.

He does his best to fuck you through it, but you know that he’s overwhelmed like you are.

No orgasm has ever felt this good, and your core continues to milk Mingyu, filling you up unlike anything else.

“Shit, shit-” he groans, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your shoulder, panting desperately as you both try to come down from your highs.

He lays on top of you like this for a while as you both recollect yourselves, and then, he lets out a sigh.

“Give me like, five minutes, and some time to massage you again, and I’ll be able to do round two.”

He’s as insatiable as you are. Sure, he’s a little weird, but who isn’t. You’re kind of weird too, but at least your weirds seem to work together, and you kind of love it.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you're interested in Wonwoo's chapter about No Face, find it here, and Seungcheol's chapter is here.

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. Mingyu had told you about some ammature porn videos where there’s some ‘sir pussy licker’ or something, and how a bunch of his content is just eating out his girlfriend and making her squirt- so of course, Mingyu wants that to be a major part of the content you make.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex tape, multiple reader orgasms, oral, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, overstim, squirting, breast worship, body worship kink, dirty talk, praise, mentions of self inflicted edging, mentions of cock rings and other things, big dick Mingyu agenda, etc… I petnames. (his) Puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve been with Mingyu for about six months now, and true to your word when you’d started seeing each other, the two of you have made a few sex tapes for your eyes only.

Mingyu’s absolutely obsessed with you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

The two of you are lying in bed after filming a new thing for the two of you, and Mingyu releases a breath. “Maybe… maybe we should start actually doing the whole cam thing,” he suggests.

“Yeah?”

“You know, make money.”

“How much do you think we could make?” you ask, not fully opposed to the idea.

“I have two friends who do the whole solo cam show thing,” Mingyu admits. “They both bring in a lot of money, but they also do solo stuff. If we made stuff together, our target audience could be bigger.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.7k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

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#mingyu #svt

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whore-anghaereads · 3 months ago

Text

omg so i low key had a situation like this with my ex and i would have loved to hook up with my ex's friend who i had good chemistry with so reading this was hella cathartic for me lol

the build was nice and i loved the way you wrote Mingyu, ugh he can teach me how to play pool any day.

CLARITY [K.MG]

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

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

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

word count: 30,2k (lmaooo)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure I won’t bother him?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we watching?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nayeon and you exchange looks before erupting into laughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing!” They say in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The walk to his apartment is less than 10 minutes long, but every dreaded step drags heavily, making everything move slower, with the both of you in silence, and the incessant notifications blowing up his phone acting as a remainder of his true priority.

Jungkook’s trying to ignore the constant ping coming out of the pocket of his jeans, pretending he isn’t dying to just answer who keeps trying to contact him.

And you have a vague idea of who it could possibly be.

The cold apartment doesn’t feel welcoming as you enter through the door, lights off and deadly silent. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you tiptoe around as if in fear. Your reflection in the mirror looks unmistakably disappointed and sad, and you wonder if Jungkook really didn’t notice or just didn’t care.

He can be charming and gentle when he wants to, always so polite and respectful, but the ability to be aware of your feelings may be something he could work on. Or at least understand that the things he does ultimately affect you too.

In the kitchen, he’s already forgotten his one rule for the date, and is carefully answering every message he got, the glasses of water he was filling for the both of you forgotten on the counter.

When he hears you come out to the living room, Jungkook rushes to sit with you, with a plan already in mind.

“Babe, will you get mad if I go for a bit?” His fingers trace lines on your forearm, and you begin to lean into him before your brain registers his words.

“What? Why?” You ask as your eyes search for any type of clue on his face.

“Cathy called me,” he takes a second to think about the best words to use, “she had a fight with her boyfriend, and I have to be there for her.”

Jungkook never liked Cathlyn's boyfriends. Something about them always feels off about them, as if none of them are ever right for his best friend. In his eyes, he just wants the best for her, someone who'll really be able to care for Cathlyn in the way he thinks she deserves.

“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” Deep down, you wonder if it really is so serious that Jungkook feels obligated to stand you up. But it’s fair, she needs her best friend when she’s having a bad time. The fact that her best friend is your boyfriend is a coincidence you can’t be mad about.

“I’ll be back before dinner and I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He’s already standing up, his arms on both of your sides as he crouches to give you a quick peck goodbye.

The door closes shut before you can even utter a reply, and his steps echo on the hallway, getting further away every second, until you’re left in complete silence.

In the quietness of the apartment, you instantly feel out of place, unwelcomed by the inanimate objects surrounding you. Seconds turn into minutes, the ticking of the clock being the only sense of time you have left. You don’t want to grab your phone, avoiding the inevitable feeling of disappointment that’ll take over you if there are no texts from Jungkook waiting in your notifications.

How stupid is what you’re doing? How desperate? Waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the home of the woman that seems to be his priority? You know you shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially since he's already told you that she’s just his best friend. But it’s still hard.

The back of your eyes burn as tears threaten to come out, blurring your vision just as you hear a key turn, heavy steps entering the home you’re not supposed to be in.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Mingyu knew he'd find you at his apartment.

Jungkook texted him that he had an emergency and had to leave in a rush. And Mingyu knows what “emergency” really means in that context. It means Jungkook rushed over to Cathlyn's at the first sign that she was feeling off, and he wanted to hide it from him so he wouldn’t have to hear the same reprimand again.

What Mingyu didn’t expect was to find you on the verge of crying on his couch, scattering to find any form of tissue paper somewhere inside your bag.

You both freeze, looking at each other for about half a second before rushing to greet. You pretend you weren’t crying, and he acts as if he didn’t notice. Mingyu utters a quiet hello as you mumble some kind of apology for being there, and then he locks up in his bedroom as usual.

His friend put him in an awkward situation once again. Mingyu doesn’t want to get to know you more than he already does. He knows you're on a different major and that’s enough, because one day, in the near future, it’s going to be another girl walking through the door instead of you, and he’ll never see you again.

He tried a few times to stay friendly, but no one really wants to stay in contact with someone so close to the man that broke their heart. And he gets it. That's why he stopped trying all together.

Mingyu would usually come home from work, put on his headphones, and spend a few hours on his computer until his stomach urges him to eat something. But for this particular afternoon he’s been put in, he skips the headphones in case you need something, or at least until Jungkook comes back, which he isn’t even sure is going to happen.

A project for work distracts him for a good while, organizing different stats and numbers on the excel sheet his boss sent him earlier in the day. He almost forgets you’re on the other side of the wall. Almost.

If he loses his focus on his computer screen, he can hear when you move around on the couch. What can you possibly be doing? Is what he asks himself at any noise that reaches his ears, but there’s never an answer. Until something alerts him that you’re not doing well. The same sniffle he heard days ago as you were watching a movie with Jungkook echoes against the walls of his bedroom.

You’ve been trying hard not to make any sounds that may disturb Mingyu, as you assumed he was busy by the way you could hear the non-stop clicking of his keyboard from where you were sitting. But your mind seemed to have other plans, so much so that you lost control of the cascade of tears brimming from your eyes.

In between everything, you miss the sound of a door opening and steps getting closer to you. Mingyu comes into view as you’re wiping away tears with the back of your hand, and you can’t pretend he didn’t see you this time.

He sits by your side in silence, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say, but also because he can’t just leave you alone in this state. He feels responsible in a way.

“Is he with…” Are the first words that come out of his mouth after seconds of dead silence.

“He didn’t tell you?” You look up at him to find him staring into the wall. He shakes his head, glancing at your slightly blotchy face before looking down.

“He just told me you'd be here, but I figured.” Your body relaxes the tiniest bit. Good, at least you’re not an unannounced guest.

“She had a fight with her boyfriend.” You explain, more frustrated than understanding.

“Right.” He simply replies.

Both of you sit there, fixed on your spots, too aware of the other. Mingyu realizes you’ve stopped crying, maybe because you don’t want to cry in front of him, but at least your breaths became less deep than before.

A growl from your stomach reverberates through the room, and you flush in embarrassment.

“You can–” he coughs before continuing, “you’re here often, you can help yourself if you’re hungry, it’s no big deal.”

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle, trying to conceal the humiliation, “but he said he didn’t have anything. That’s why we went out. And I can’t really cook, so.”

Never in the past weeks would you have thought you’d be sharing embarrassing details about you with your boyfriend’s cold roommate, but life has a funny way of turning things around.

“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s no way you can’t do the basics.” His body turns, now facing you as he takes an interest in your not so fun fact.

“I’m not lying! I can’t even make scrambled eggs.” You hide your face behind your hands, and you immediately hear Mingyu laughing as the dent beside you on the couch disappears.

“C’mon, I’ll teach you. I happen to be a great cook.” Your stomach growls again, and Mingyu looks back at you as he walks towards his kitchen, leaving you no choice but to follow him.

Mingyu’s not thinking about this exchange with you too much.

Yes, he’s doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn’t, as this will inevitably make you both closer and he will not be able to turn back to his cold self again. But he couldn’t just go on with his day knowing you were having a bad one, and even worse, knowing you were crying because of his friend.

He had to do something, and if that something is becoming your friend for the afternoon, then so be it.

“Grab the egg carton with his name on it.” You chuckle as you follow his instructions, “and his milk too, why not.” If he left you stranded, the least you can do to get back at him is use his stuff and not Mingyu’s.

Between laughs and Mingyu indicating instructions like he was teaching a 5-year-old to cook, time passes, you forget why you were at the apartment in the first place, and you end up with a fine plate of scrambled eggs that doesn't taste bad at all.

“I told you it wasn’t that hard.” Mingyu sits in front of you on the rounded table as you share the food.

“Well, I’ll let you know if your teaching lasts until I have to cook alone.” You chuckle and avoid his stare, realizing your words sounded much friendlier than you intended.

Back in the living room, Mingyu’s ringtone disrupts your conversation, and his sigh alerts you that he might already know who’s calling. He gets up with another sigh, throwing you a knowing look before going to answer Jungkook’s call.

You appreciate his effort to make you feel better, and when he doesn’t ask Jungkook any questions over the phone, only replying with yeahs and okays to whatever he’s telling him, you understand that Jungkook’s not coming back, and whatever he’s telling Mingyu will just make you feel worse.

Before Mingyu comes back, you do the dishes that you used and get your stuff together. The decision to leave has already been made.

“Leaving already?” He appears at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the edge of the door like a statue.

“I know he’s not coming back. I’m sorry, I should’ve left earlier, I didn’t mean to be a bother.” It’s the first time you’ve addressed that feeling you have that you constantly bother him, and it’s kind of freeing.

“You’re not a bother.” A man of few words, Mingyu feels like he meant a lot more with that simple statement than just dismissing your apology.

His blank reply doesn’t feel forced, not like he only said what you wanted to hear. No. He said it automatically, not thinking much about it, and it took a heavy load off your shoulders.

“Still, I should–” You’re now standing right in front of him, looking up at his face as he doesn’t realize he’s in your way.

“Right, sorry.” Mingyu rushes to get out of your way, stumbling against his own feet as he walks backwards to go get his keys. “Do you need a ride? I could–”

“Oh, thank you, but it’s okay. I’m meeting a friend at a restaurant close by.” A warmness spreads on your cheeks at his offer. “Do you happen to know which way to go? It’s supposed to be a few blocks from here.”

To redirect his attention away from you, you show him the address of the restaurant on your phone screen. You frequent the neighborhood on a weekly basis, but the blocks tend to mix up, as the buildings look too similar to each other. Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, trying to remember the names of the streets around his place.

“I think it’s three blocks to the right, and then two to the left.” He doesn’t sound very convinced, but you trust you’d be able to tell if he’s sending you the wrong way, so you take his word.

Even after denying him, Mingyu still accompanies you downstairs, and you politely say goodbye to each other at the entrance before separating.

The sun sets on the horizon, the golden hue painting the streets beautifully as you walk. ‘Third block to the right, then turn left,’ you mentally repeat, trying to concentrate on the directions as well as you try to find a street sign that'll tell you if you’re going the right way.

As you reach the second block to the left, where Mingyu implied the restaurant should be at, your phone vibrates inside your purse. The unknown caller doesn’t give up while you contemplate whether to pick up or let it go to voice-mail, but something in the back of your mind urges you to answer. So you do.

“Who is this?” In case that another telemarketer got a hold of your phone number, you try to sound annoyed.

“It’s Mingyu, sorry,” his deep voice sounds the tiniest bit robotic due to the poor service, “I realized I sent you the wrong way. You have to turn right instead of left.”

“Oh,” you chuckle as your eyes read the street number you’re at, “thank you.” You don’t tell him you could’ve figured it out on your own, a tiny smile appearing on your face at his gesture.

“I should’ve warned you that I’m terrible with directions.” His breathy chuckle reaches your ear at the same time as a metal ruffling sound. Was he heading out to find you in case you didn’t pick up?

“No worries.” Your mind is blank, as the two things you’re most awkward at doing are getting combined in one: phone calls and talking to Mingyu. “How did you get my number?”

“I asked Jungkook for it just now.” That feels weird for some reason, but you toss that feeling away, trying not to overthink about it. “You okay?”

“Yep! Heading that way now! Thank you! Bye.” You abruptly hang up on him, the only way you thought to end the awkward conversation.

Your heart rate escalates, pumping hard like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you go the correct way now. Whatever you do, your mind still manages to replay what just happened over and over again, until you’re standing in front of the restaurant hostess.

Walking towards the table you see Nayeon sitting at, the idea of Mingyu having your number saved makes the back of your neck tingle with nervousness, and you can't shake the feeling even as you greet your friend and she starts telling you about her day.

Maybe you’re giving it way too much thought. It’s just the excitement of finally feeling like you’re growing closer to your boyfriend’s friends. Nothing more.

There's been a noticeable shift in the awkwardness of your “friendship" with Mingyu. You didn’t become best friends overnight, but at least he stopped fleeting away from you anytime you'd be over at their apartment, and wouldn’t deliberately choose the spot furthest from you at any group gathering.

As you and Jungkook step out of his car and walk over to the front door for the costume party a classmate of his was throwing, you can only take a deep breath and hope your extroverted self appears after a few drinks, and that Mingyu doesn’t decide he hates you again, because he’ll be the only other person you know at the party.

Not much of a partier yourself, you’re just trying, for him. Trying to join your boyfriend in what he likes, especially after he showed interest in you being there with him by inviting you.

The loud music can be heard even with the door closed, and Jungkook texts his friend to come pick them up, because ringing the bell clearly won’t do anything.

“Hi man! Sorry for making you both wait.” A tall blonde man who you’re sure is named Jackson welcomes you in, giving Jungkook a man hug before looking you up and down and asking. “What did you guys come as?”

“I’m a firefighter dude! And she’s...” Jungkook looks at you waiting for your answer, not even trying to remember the name of the character you’re dressed up as.

“Mavis, from Hotel Transylvania!” You smile as Jackson finally lets you in, and you can see in his expression that he has no idea who you’re talking about when you walk past him.

As soon as you cross the door, it is a relief to find Jungkook’s whole friend group there, sitting occupying the entire couch for themselves, only one big body missing from the ensemble.

Jungkook only takes his hand off you to greet his friends one by one, and makes them promise to save you seats while you go to the kitchen to find something to drink.

It hasn’t been long since the party started, but the crowded house is already filled with that dense air mixed with the smell of sweat, and the sticky bodies make it harder for you two to advance into the kitchen.

Part of you is relieved that Mingyu’s nowhere to be seen, if he’s even at the party. Sure, you’re getting along now, but being around him is still stiff and awkward. Maybe you can use this opportunity to try and get close to Jungkook’s other friends.

Sitting between him and other two strangers that squeezed themselves on the far end of the couch, that plan is quickly scrapped. It’s possible Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re too far away to be included in any conversation, he wouldn’t do it on purpose, but you have no will to tell him. Not when his body is fully turned away from you as he talks to Cathlyn and the guy she's dating, Yugyeom.

The music's too loud for their voices to travel backwards and let you hear, but judging by Jungkook’s menacing body next to yours, he doesn't seem to be liking the conversation. He didn't talk much about Yugyeom, that name being new to you as Jungkook’s hadn't even mentioned him before. And from what you know, he and Cathlyn have been having some problems for the past few weeks, so it's normal for her best friend to dislike him.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Mingyu thinks of himself as somewhat of a good friend. Sure, he may have some faults and he fucks up every now and then, as everyone does, but whenever his friends need him, he’s there. He covers for Jungkook at school, listens to his girl problems as any friend would do, hates whoever he hates, and he’d never break that friendship over any random girl. That said, he’s still a man, and he has eyes.

When he comes back from the patio after catching up with some old friends he bumped into, he first lays eyes on the striking yellow costume Jungkook’s wearing. But as he follows the bright color, he sees you sitting by his friend's side, his arm wrapped around you but giving you no attention as you drink from an almost empty cup.

It's no surprise to him that Jungkook's too enthusiastically talking with Cathlyn instead of any other friend, or instead of dancing and enjoying the party. What shocks Mingyu is how blatantly he’s ignoring you, sitting so pretty by his side.

Yeah, Mingyu can admit he finds you pretty. He might be a good friend, but he’s not blind, and denying it would just make him stupid. Any guy with a brain should be lining up for a chance to talk to you, getting lucky to be the ones you spare a glance to. Instead, you’re sitting with an arm around you and being ignored by its owner. It could be that he’s gulping down his fourth drink already, but he might even go as far as saying you’re his type. But that’s about as far as it could possibly go. You’re pretty, nice, and in love with his best friend. Well, maybe not in love yet, but you like him enough to put up with his shit. And Mingyu’s not interested. He can’t be.

A smile forces itself on your face as your eyes catch his across the room. The most polite way to acknowledge his presence without trying to interact with him further.

Mingyu nods your way and drives his eyes elsewhere. It’s not like he wanted you to do anything else, and even if he wanted to go up and chat with you, he couldn’t have fit in between you and the people on your other side crushing your free arm.

So, he stays there, standing against a wall on the only free hallway –in which there aren’t any people because Jackson threatened anyone who dared to step within a two feet radius of his bedroom, watching the scene progress before his eyes.

Where his friend has a reputation of being a heartthrob, a player, or a heartbreaker, Mingyu’s always thought of as Jungkook’s serious and mean friend. A bad school reputation is the least of his priorities, and he doesn’t care to change how people he doesn’t care about think of him. It’s not like he’s not enjoying the party, he just prefers to stand alone and drink. If that paints him as a boring guy, so be it. He tries scanning the room to find a friend to catch up with, but it's pointless, only the bright yellow costume makes itself visible.

It's mostly a blur of bodies messily dancing to 2000’s pop songs inside that room, but Mingyu could recognize his best friend's silhouette if he was miles away and 90% blind. Your costume contrasts with Jungkook's in a way that even drunk Mingyu realizes it’s you who's being dragged onto the “dancefloor".

He sees you get loose as his friend's hands wrap around your waist and move your bodies in sync. It seems that every single light in the house is on despite it being a party, and you’re in the center of his line of sight, constantly and too easily catching his attention.

What he doesn’t see, however, are your constant complaints about dancing, appearing as flirty whispers to anyone who wasn't listening. And after he takes his eyes off of you two to find a glass of cold water, you’re back again to your original place on the couch, this time with much more space around you.

“Not much of a dancer?” His feet directed Mingyu to where you sat almost instinctively. There’s finally room to sit down so he’s going to take the opportunity before somebody else does.

“Only when I’m in the mood.” Your stare’s lost somewhere in the room, paying attention to your drunk boyfriend dancing with his best friend.

“I see.” You both sit awkwardly, body facing front and eyes focused on the same view.

“Cool costume, by the way. I love Hotel Transylvania.” Mingyu manages to fill in the gaps of the heavy silence.

“Thank you! You’re the only one that recognized me.” A small smile appears despite your bad mood.

“People here lack basic culture.” A simple joke followed by awkward laughs from the both of you, the atmosphere doesn’t help to ease the tension of your interaction.

“I wanted Jungkook to dress up as Johnny.” You have to stretch your neck to Mingyu’s side so he can hear you above the loud music.

“That would’ve been cute.” Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say. It’s been a common occurrence for him to go blank when talking to you.

“I guess he’s not a fan of matching costumes.” You try your best to continue the conversation, not really caring whether he’s interested or not. The little alcohol in your system won’t let you fall on an awkward silence again.

“He probably got tired of them after so many years.”

You freeze.

“What do you mean?”

Mingyu realizes he just fucked up. All those drinks he had before you came, and that one after, finally brought him to the stage where his mouth gets loose and he starts blurring out things he shouldn’t.

“Uh–, I mean, Cathlyn used to force him to do it for halloween.” Force.

For the record, Mingyu's not a liar. He might be loyal to his friend, not wanting to put him in bad situations, but he’s not going to go above and beyond to protect an already weak relationship. So, he picks a word that’s going to save Jungkook’s ass, but still saying part of the truth.

“Right.” If you caught on to his deliberate choice of words, you don’t show it to him.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

It’s pointless to get mad at your boyfriend for such a meaningless piece of information. Every relationship is different, and you shouldn’t be comparing yours to a much older one. Their bond’s just different! It doesn’t have anything to do with you if Jungkook didn’t want to do stupid matching costumes.

Still, you’re glad Mingyu slipped and gave away the truth, and you appreciate his effort to make it sound less bad.

Jungkook gives you no time to ponder on what to do though, as he stumbles his way back to you, so drunk he can’t regulate his strength and falls hard on the couch.

“My heead hit the back of the c-couch with my head.” Jungkook pouts and slurs his words.

“Ow, baby, you’re really drunk.” Mingyu’s eyes pierce through your back, and a wave of self-consciousness takes over you. “Should we go home?”

Jungkook’s cheeks feel warm in your hands as you try to get him to look at you, but his drunk mind can only concentrate on one thing at a time, and for the time being, his eyes are focused on Yugyeom’s hands groping Cathlyn's ass shamelessly as they dance.

“I don’t feel so good.” He only says, his drunk stare having a hard time straying away from that scene as he gets up and stumbles his way out the house.

Mingyu runs after Jungkook just behind you, and manages to catch him before he faceplants on the damp grass outside.

“Where did we leave my car?” Jungkook asks no one in particular, disoriented from his almost-fall. “Wait, you’re not my girlfriend!” His eyes go wide as he realizes who was helping him and tries to escape.

“I’m here, babe.” Before he manages to, you wrap your arm around his other shoulder, leaving him no choice but to be embraced by yours and Mingyu’s hold so he doesn’t hurt himself again.

Now that you’re outside, with no music blasting at full volume, no people around pushing you constantly, and breathing fresh air, you’re too aware of your surroundings. Or more specifically, how Mingyu’s arm and yours touch behind Jungkook’s back.

It's a weird way to break the ice of skin to skin contact in a friendship, but maybe it’s what you need to end the lingering awkwardness that surrounds your interactions once and for all.

“I saw you drinking.” You scold Mingyu after you two lay Jungkook down on the back seat and he turns to find his way back to his car.

“I’m not drunk anymore.” He mutters just before he trips with his own foot. “Okay. I’ll crash on the back seat for a while and then I’ll go home.”

“I’ll drive you.” Mingyu's silence as he thinks of a polite way to turn your offer down only eggs you further. “I’m going there anyways.”

“I-I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” He fiddles with his keys, avoiding your eyes.

“Of what? Me? His car?” Mingyu hesitates, the gears in his brain visibly turning.

“I don’t know.” It’s quiet, his response, and no matter how cute and defenseless he looks when he’s drunk, you don’t really have time to wait.

“I’m offering.” You deadpan, but try to flash a small smile so his drunk brain doesn’t understand your hurriedness as anger. “You’re clearly still drunk, c’mon, don’t make me have to drag you.”

Realizing there’s no way out of this other than listening to you, Mingyu caves in and gets on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. “You wouldn’t be able to drag me anyways.”

Of course, you can't push an over six-foot-tall gym bro even if you use all possible bodily strength you have. "Hell yeah I can!” Your teasing stare meets his, and you know he got what he wanted by pushing your buttons.

"I’d love to see you try.”

An indescribable feeling completely shuts down the workings of every organ inside you. It could be what he said, but it’s just a common phrase to tease a friend. It could be his eyes that refuse to leave yours. Or it could be the silver of a smirk that appears as you hold your breath. Whatever it is, you push it down, hide it on the very back of your mind and put up ten walls to disguise as a simple and normal response to teasing.

“We should-”

“I don’t like him.” The drunken backseat passenger you had forgotten about interrupts you.

“Who?” The distraction allows you to break eye contact with Mingyu. A believable excuse to put a stop to whatever was happening.

“That guy she was with.” Jungkook looks like he’s talking to himself, his eyes closed as if he wanted to fall asleep and unaware of who he's actually talking to.

“Cathlyn? Her boyfriend?” Mingyu intercepts so you wouldn’t have to ask the awkward questions, already knowing where this conversation’s going. “Yugyeom?”

“Ugh, don't say his name.” Mingyu’s instinct tells him to see your reaction, to check if you realize what Jungkook means by all of this, and especially if it hurts you. “He has a douchebag face.”

You chuckle at his pouty statement, but deep down his words pierce a surface cut on your denying heart. It’s gone as fast as it came, but it was there, and your hands automatically started the car, urging you to start driving like nothing happened.

Ever since the evening started, Mingyu knew Jungkook wasn't going to have a good time. Not since opening the door to the bar that revealed Yugyeom there with Cathlyn.

“Why is he here?” Jungkook muttered under his breath, annoyed, on the verge of being angry.

“She's allowed to invite her boyfriend. Just like you invited your girlfriend.” Is all Mingyu replied.

Jungkook has been in his life ever since he can remember. When their first tooth fell out, when they schemed behind their parents to figure out if Santa was real, when he got his first bicycle and Jungkook laughed in his face when he fell and scraped his knee, when they met Cathlyn in high school and Jungkook’s eyes shined brighter than ever, when they went to prom and lost their virginities on the same night, and when they got accepted to the same college and joined the same classes. Every memory Mingyu has, it’s always Jungkook by his side. He can't mess with that peace, no matter how violently he wants to tell his friend to stop playing with girls’ hearts and realize he’ll be much happier if he owned up to his true feelings.

So, he resorts to trying to make Jungkook connect the dots himself by telling him harsh enough truths. It’s a work in progress.

In the few hours you’ve all been at the bar’s pool table, Mingyu hasn’t said a word. He's been sitting alone at one table on the side, seeing his friends sucking at playing and actually having fun.

With the excuse of being tired and simply enjoying watching each round, he took the opportunity to be temporarily invisible. With all of them busy, he can look at you all he wants, smile to himself when you miss your shot, and pretend to be drinking from his half empty glass.

There’s not much more he can do. Whatever he thinks he feels, whatever he thinks of you, it’s wrong. That’s why, at that moment, he prefers the loneliness of his table. The crude reality punishing him in real time is enough.

Doesn’t matter if you’re on the same team as Jungkook or not, your attention is always focused on him. You search for his touch, his eyes, crave his attention on you. But the more drunk his friend gets, the more competitive he gets, and the little patience he had with your lack of pool skills is quickly dissipating.

Another round finishes, with the both of you losing to Cathlyn and Yugyeom again, and it’s more than obvious that Jungkook’s annoyed. When your opponents excuse themselves to the bar to get more drinks, you try playing on your own and see an opportunity to try and get Jungkook in a good mood again.

“I swear I know where to hit it! My arms just won’t cooperate.” A chuckle escapes during your lighthearted shout.

Jungkook sighs at your missed shot, your pout having no effect as he’s trying to conceal his annoyance. “Which one are you thinking?” He only asks.

“The red one, close to the middle?” You point to it, waiting for any reaction, but he just waits for you to continue. “If I hit it a little to the right, I think it can go inside the left corner hole.” Bodily coordination may not be your strong suit, but you’ve played enough online pool that your brain’s trained to draw the imaginary angles.

The main idea was telling Jungkook your theory, him realizing you actually have an idea of how to play the game, and finally teaching you how to get a hold of the cue stick correctly.

“You have to do it like this.” Jungkook takes the cue from your hands and takes your place, ushering you to the side to watch as he takes the shot. “Your index and middle fingers serve to place the tip of the stick where you want it.”

“But I-” You were right, and the ball enters exactly where you said it would, but you can’t chant victory. Not when his attention shifts to a heated argument just meters away from you.

In the second it takes you to focus on what’s happening, your eyes land on Yugyeom stomping out of the bar, a crying Cathlyn left behind. You don’t even have to check if Jungkook’s still by your side, as he soon enough appears with an arm around her shoulders in an intent to console her.

When he starts getting the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and heads to walk out the door, you realize the comforting session won’t be quick. But why would it be? His best friend just had a screaming fight with her boyfriend in public. It makes total sense that he’d want to take her out to have some fresh air and a little more privacy than inside the full bar.

“If I knew the night would be like this, I would’ve stayed home resting for next week.” Your body falls on the chair next to where Mingyu’s been sitting in silence. His flat expression rapidly makes you uncomfortable, like you just crossed a line. “Shit, they’re your friends, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav–”

“No, you’re right.” He interrupts you, with a tone that implies you must've taken the words right out of him. “I get having troubles, God knows I've seen them go through stuff, but we're allowed to be tired of it.”

Between his cold exterior and sometimes unfriendly choice of words, Mingyu's surprisingly capable of understanding other people's feelings.

“Has this been happening a lot recently?” You don't care to sound like a gossip. “Her fighting with her boyfriend, I mean.”

Mingyu sighs, eyes wandering to the door through which both of his friends just stepped out of. “Let’s just say, it’s been a regular occurrence.”

“Well, let’s not let other people’s problems ruin the fun.” You decide out loud. You’ve been having fun since you got here, regardless of your boyfriend’s bad mood, and you’re not going to let anything ruin your last night out before the busy week you have ahead. “Do you want another drink?” You down the last sip of what Jungkook was drinking.

“Oh, actually, I’m saving to pay for gas for the trip we have next week. I promised to drive, so.” Mingyu explains, too apologetic for simply refusing a drink. “You’re coming right? It’s a congress that our college’s doing.”

“Of course I’m coming,” maybe you should be offended that he doesn’t know, but it’s not his fault, “I’m the one giving the presentation.”

“Wait, seriously?” Mingyu’s eyes go wide, in slight shock as well as in embarrassment. “I knew you had a big thing coming up, but I didn’t think it was that! How did I not know?”

“Maybe Jungkook forgot to tell you. You know how he is…” Mingyu nods at your statement, but the answer brewing in his mind gets cut short by the glass door opening once again.

As if he was summoned, Jungkook re enters the bar alone, quickly lets you know he'll wait outside for Cathlyn's uber with her, and leaves again without sparing you another glance.

Silence fills the void between Mingyu and you, only murmurs from the people around the bar manage to make it not unbearable. Awkward again, you never seem to have a normal conversation with Mingyu without feeling some type of way. Jungkook interrupting seemingly added a layer of tension very hard to dissipate.

“I’m gonna… practice playing.” You aren’t the best at handling awkward silences, so you stand up with that excuse. “I’m so bad at it! I think the stick does the opposite of what I want on purpose.”

Mingyu chuckles behind you, following you to the pool table to watch up close. “You’re not that bad.” You look at him dead in the eyes, head tilting to the side with scepticism. “I’ve been watching you play! You just need to learn how to get into position correctly.”

Your arms cross in front of your chest, deciding if what Mingyu’s saying is in any way true, or if he’s just trying to make you feel better. He takes the cue laying on the table, accidentally knocking a few balls away from their places in the process.

“Show me how you’d do it.” As he hands the pool stick to you, warm smile and standing tall facing you, you feel secure he won’t tease you if you’re awful.

“Okay, but don’t you dare mock me.” The lighthearted threat makes him chuckle again, and your fingers tremble grabbing the stick from his hand. “This is my usual.”

You mentally cringe at yourself, but you push through it and lean your chest forward, hovering over the table, setting the tip of the stick between your fingers and analyzing which ball to hit.

“I see where things might go wrong.” His voice sounds closer with each word, but it's not enough to prepare you to feel his chest against your back, his arms embracing you to guide your hand where he wants to. “Your hand’s too close to the end of the stick. You’re not in full control of it.”

When he places his hand over yours, helping you slide it up the cue, you’re sure your whole body’s covered in goosebumps. Your heart accelerates to unimaginable speeds, about to jump out of your chest as Mingyu’s breath fans on the back of your neck.

“I think we can get the blue striped one,” your mouth blurts out faster than your brain can think, “If I manage to hit the white a little to the left, I can go right and push it into the middle hole.” You try to play off the unprecedented effects Mingyu has over you, forcing yourself to get your mind back in game mode.

He doesn’t let go of his hold on your hand, his arm grazing yours even more closely. “Are you sure? That one seems like a long shot.” You can hear his smirk through his teasing words.

“Just help me hit it there.” Your head turns just barely to the side, finding his face much closer than you imagined, and your eyes roll before going back to the table, trying to mask the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks. “I know I’m right.”

“Relax a bit. It’s close to the hole, so you don't need to hit it too hard.” Mingyu extends his other arm over the table, helping you position the tip to hit exactly where you told him to. You don't dare move, his cheek brushing against your temple freezing you in place momentarily.

When you feel his hands tighten over yours, taking control of the stick with your fingers tangling with his, your arms fall limp, letting him shoot the shot. With the tiniest push, the barest tense of his muscles all around you, both your arms move the cue forward and hit the white ball.

The both of you smile as the striped ball falls in the hole you said it would, relaxing against one another before realizing just how close you really are.

“I told you, I was right.” You chuckle away from him, using cue in your hands as a barrier.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted your skills.” Maybe it’s the drink he was stalling to finish until you approached him, but Mingyu’s more relaxed with you tonight, a little more prone to smiling than usual.

“Babe?” But Jungkook’s voice quickly wipes it off his face. “Let’s get going, wait for me outside.”

“Wait!” You get off Jungkook’s hold, almost offended that he thinks he can drag you away at his will. “I was finally getting a hang of it. Mingyu’s a better teacher than you, you know.” You try to joke to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere, but it doesn’t work.

“I’m really tired, babe. And I promised I’d take you home, so, please?” Jungkook retorts, face turned your way, but his eyes are on his roommate.

The staring contest between the two men doesn’t stop, an indecipherable friction you don’t really want to find out the meaning behind.

“O…kay,” there isn’t really an out where the three of you will be happy, so you just accept Jungkook’s petition to leave, “bye Mingyu.”

You walk away, your hand in the air wishing for Jungkook to take it and come after you.

Mingyu begins to grab his stuff, assuming the both of you will be quickly out the door by the time he’s done paying his tab, but it seems the night is not over for him yet.

Jungkook grabs him by the arm and turns him around so they’re face to face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What the hell man?” Mingyu shoves the other’s hand away, a hunch telling him his friend’s anger has something to do with you.

“I leave for a minute and you’re all flirty with my girl.” Jungkook’s always been a jealous man, but Mingyu can’t help but sigh at the accusation.

Still, Mingyu can’t lie and say he wasn’t flirting. He can’t say he didn’t love the way you were blushing and squirming under him. And he can’t say that it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“I was entertaining her because you left.” He retaliates with a part of the truth. “It’s getting old man, you can’t just leave her to go after Cathlyn all the time.”

“You’re back with that again.” Jungkook throws his arms in the air, easily irritated by the topic. “You know what? I’m tired of this.” As the confrontation he was looking for didn’t turn out the way he wanted to, Jungkook begins walking away, “I’m leaving, we’re leaving.”

“You never want to talk about it, but you know it’s wrong.” Mingyu adds, a little louder this time. “You gotta stop.”

“Why are you so worried?” Getting more frustrated by the second, Jungkook barely turns, not fully facing Mingyu. “You never cared about it before.”

“C’mon man, I’ve always noticed.” How awful of a person he is. Accomplice to his best friend breaking girl after girl’s hearts, it’s true that he never cared this strongly about Jungkook’s extracurricular activities. Even though he always tried to make Jungkook realize the truth by himself, for his own good, Mingyu can admit, to himself at least, that now he has an added, selfish reason to want his friend’s behavior to come to an end.

“It’s my life. When I need an opinion, I’ll ask for it.” With that, Jungkook finally leaves, getting out the door to where you’re waiting in the cold.

Mingyu wasn’t done with the conversation. There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to say that it’s your life too. Jungkook's messed up feelings were affecting the people around him too, especially every girl he dates to forget. Especially you. But he just couldn’t keep pushing it, not without the truth coming to the light.

Mingyu’s reputation of being too serious, or even heartless sometimes, wasn't born out of nothing. He's aware of his resting bitch face, of the way he bolts in and out of class and the way he's never the first choice for group projects in the classes none of his friends attend. If he cared what other people thought of him, maybe it'd hurt. But he has enough friends, friends who like him the way he is, and doesn't go to college to expand his contact list.

Going to university, to him, was exclusively a way for him to learn more about his likes and interests. He goes to his classes and focuses maybe a little too much, but it’s how he lives his days, how the hours pass until he has to go to work. That is, until you came into his life unprovoked, and disorganized his sharp and efficient lifestyle.

He never crossed paths with you on campus before, and if he were to run into you after the first time he met you, he would've probably ignored you and scurried to his building like a flash. But today, he unconsciously looked around, hoping to catch even a glimpse of your figure coming out of your major’s building. He hoped you’d see him and smile at him as you walked his way to make useless small talk. But you didn’t, of course you didn't, and as soon as he sat down on his usual seat in his favorite class, he realized. He’s fucked.

For the first time in his life, the numbers on the chalkboard didn't make any sense, the words coming out of his favorite professor's mouth sounded like a mumble of pure nonsense. His mind couldn't focus, diving into the memory of your sweet smile next to his ear. Or the shivers your body graced him with as his hands purposely covered yours on the cue stick. His hand would grab his pen to try and write a single sentence, and the feeling of your fingers barely interlaced with his would overwhelm him.

What’s worse than pining after your best friend’s girl? As of the moment, Mingyu has no answer. There’s nothing he can really do either, besides accept you’re in a sort of happy relationship. He can’t take you aside and say ‘hey, you know your boyfriend? My friend? Yeah, so I have a theory that he might be in love with his girl best friend, sorry!’ Even thinking of doing so puts a bad taste in his mouth.

He's aware that, currently, he's at least top5 worst friends in the world. And he's not looking to end your relationship and get bumped up to the top1. It's decided. He'll just ignore whatever feelings are bubbling on the pit of his stomach until they disappear!

Easier said than done, because nothing he does seems to get you out of his mind. And the vivid reminder that he’s nothing more than someone you have to get along with is screaming at him everywhere around his home.

The four walls of his bedroom imprison him, suffocate him with the thought of you. He is a bad friend. He does want you. He does resent Jungkook for keeping you his. But if he broke up with you, would Mingyu ever see you again? Would he ever get the chance to see the heat visibly rushing to your cheeks as he walked closer to you?

Mingyu hates himself. He hates himself for getting turned on at the memory of your body heat against him, shivering at his closeness but not pulling away, letting him wrap himself around you, even if the both of you knew he shouldn't. He needs to drive his mind elsewhere.

Locking in to work in front of his computer, trying to scare away the sturdiness building up in his jeans, it might become the first time he wishes it was his day to go to the office. The front door of the apartment opens, rushed steps and messy, wet, breaths echoing against every thin wall that surrounds him. The reminder that what he deeply wants, it's not, and should never be his.

Working from home has never been so much of a curse.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Jungkook grips at your sides, his body flushing against you and pressing you further into the couch. The near desperate way his lips roam over yours has you gasping for air, but he doesn’t relent, hands making a mess of your hair as he hopes you give him the satisfaction he craves for.

He grinds his hips against yours with determination, and you press against him trying to give him what he’s hopelessly looking for. But no matter what you do, he goes in for more, your bodies getting more and more out of sync.

You try to give him what he wants, emitting sounds of a satisfaction you're nowhere near feeling. His mouth moves to the side of your neck, leaving marks you're not sure you want.

The white door, now in your line of sight, calls for your attention. You shouldn’t be thinking about other people while you have a man in between your legs doing everything to feel any type of pleasure. But if the yellow light sneaking below the closed door alerts you of something, is that the person at the back of your mind is probably right there, behind the dangerously thin cardboard the architects of the building call a wall.

“Isn't Mingyu gonna hear?” The choked up question comes out in a whisper, in fear, in panic. And the mention of his name speeds up your heart rate far more than your current activity.

Jungkook barely cares about your worry. “He's gaming.”

You know gaming implies wearing noise canceling headphones and tuning out of the real world. But is he really?

“I don't know, babe, shouldn't we check?” It sounds stupid to even ask. Check? Knock on his door to very politely ask him if he can hear you having sex?

“He's not gonna hear,” Jungkook sighs, finally looking you in the eyes to answer, “and I wouldn't care if he did. He has to know you're mine.”

There's a speck of disdain behind his words, behind the weirdly possessive statement he just made. It leaves you more breathless than ever.

“What are you talking about?” You don't know what kind of egotistical manly fight they have going on, men friendships are not exactly your expertise, but it can't be about something you're aware of.

“Don't tell me you don't see it.” Jungkook hasn't gotten up from on top of you, but his hands on the sides of your waist tighten a bit more after your question.

“I don't know what you mean.” You chuckle in an intent to ease up the newly tense atmosphere. You didn’t mean to make it about him. “He's your friend, you shouldn't be jealous.”

“And you shouldn’t be talking about another man while you're under me.” Jungkook retorts, half angry, half still turned on. It's a weird mix. One that doesn't let you reply to correct yourself.

Jungkook lowers down to your mouth once again, kissing you fervently to make you forget about anyone else. And you decide to let go. He’s here, your bodies tangled together and your loose clothing crumbled up your torsos to feel each other’s skins. You shouldn’t doubt that, in that moment, he wants you.

You drift away into the feeling of his lips against yours, both hands cupping his jaw to relax the hurried pace he’s setting. His hands under your t-shirt feel good, like he knows what he’s doing, like he knows how women like to be touched, and it helps. It helps free your mind of everything else.

Still, you’re careful of the sounds that leave your lips. You let Jungkook’s tongue slip inside and dance with yours, muffling any soft moans you don’t get to restrain. He searches for something, his hips angling with yours to feel some kind of friction. If he keeps moving like that, you’ll be in the mood in no time.

A ringtone coming from the back pocket of Jungkook’s jeans disrupts the quiet setting. You stiffen under him, but he doesn't let his mood come down. You're grateful when he grabs his phone to decline the call and puts it on the end table in a rush, finding your body with his hands once again.

It's like, for the first time, he's prioritizing the time he planned to spend with you. He searches for your touch like nothing happened and you're the only thing he's thinking about.

“Just let it go to voice-mail.” Your hoarse voice surprises you, echoing over a new call. Jungkook doesn’t respond, not stopping the trail of kisses up your neck until your lips are against each other again.

But a call comes in again, and he groans against your mouth, trying to ignore it, letting the default ringtone soundtrack your activities until it stops on its own. It’s awkward, but he doesn’t stop kissing you and wraps your legs around him, trying to make you forget.

By the fourth call, you're both annoyed, and Jungkook reluctantly gets up from on top of you to check who's bothering him so much. The caller gives up just when he gets the phone in his hand, but from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of him opening his texts. You don’t mean to spy on him, not wanting to be a controlling girlfriend that needs to know everything her boyfriend's doing, but it’d be nice to simply… get told.

The clicking sounds of his fingers typing on the small screen of his phone are about to send you straight to a mental hospital. Why's he typing so fast? So insistent? Is he mad? He's not telling you anything, as if he forgot he was just kissing you out of breath.

“Did something happen?” You dare ask, even if deep down, you know the answer is clear as day. You know who’s the only one capable of making him drop everything in a heartbeat. “Is Cathlyn okay?”

“She needs me.” Is all he replies. Cold. Decided.

“What do you mean?” The question manages to mask the anger brewing inside you. For now. But you need an explanation. How many times can you put up with the same situation until you blow up? He can’t expect you to be all right with being stood up constantly.

“Yugyeom broke up with her.” He explains without looking at you, like that’s enough of an excuse.

“She always needs you when you’re with me.” Bitterness bleeds through your mumble. It doesn’t feel good. You should understand that best friends need each other. But why are you never on the receiving end of his undivided attention?

“You can’t expect me not to care when she’s going through something. She’s my best friend. She goes first. Always.”

His words are like a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter. The explicit revelation that his priorities are carved on stone. There's silence as he realizes what he said, and neither of you dare speak up.

Your lungs expand but no air gets inside, and your throat threatens to close as your body prepares to start shedding tears. “Why make plans with me if you're just gonna sprint her way at any sign of trouble?” You can’t stop them. “You’re supposed to be with me.”

Tears cascade down your face, quiet sobs getting in the way of your pathetic pleads. Covering your face from the outside world, you shrink in place, giving in to the crying as Jungkook kneels in front of you.

“Baby, I'm sorry.” His now soft voice barely reaches you over your sobs. “I know I haven't been very present.”

“No, you haven't.” His hands carefully withdraw yours from your probably blotched face.

“I promise you,” Jungkook makes the effort to look you in the eyes, “after this, I’ll be better. I'll make it up to you.”

He tries. But you, convinced or not of his willingness to fulfill the promise, don't want him to leave. It's not about the fight, or the sex, or even him. If he leaves, it cements you as the second option. If it was about winners or losers, you'd lose.

“Stay.” It comes out so quiet you're afraid he didn't hear you.

But he did.

“I can't.”

Silence again. Deafening silence as you look at each other with different thoughts racing through your brains. He decided. There's nothing to be done.

Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes it tight in an attempt to bring you comfort. He thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks he'll be able to nurse his best friend's heart and then come running back to you after.

At your silence, he stands up, reaching for his coat hanging on the hallway before sparing you one last look and heading out.

The soft click of the door closing behind him breaks you a little more inside. The couch, no longer warm with the weight of two bodies, feels empty, too big for you to fill.

Bare, exposed, you let yourself be vulnerable only for him to cut you off and leave you there, with your feelings blurting out of you in the form of tears and sobs. The undecorated walls judge you as you cry your eyes out. Is there something you can do that’ll make him like you more? You already try so hard, you’re just not… her.

When the white door opens to reveal the other man of the house, you're not surprised. Of course he was there, and of course he heard everything. Your luck wouldn't let you escape this situation without throwing a more embarrassing one at your hands.

It took Mingyu all of two seconds to realize what was happening. His headphones in the grip of his hand are proof that he did not want to hear what you two were doing, he just didn’t get to put them on. He may be a bad friend, but he's not one to invade someone's privacy.

That's why it took him a bit more time to decide to step out of his room. Would you let him be there for you? Would you be too embarrassed? You shouldn’t be, he thinks. It’s not your fault.

At one point, he got used to Jungkook abandoning his fleeting girlfriends at the first notification from his best friend that popped up. Mingyu never did anything for the girls, and they usually left after a few minutes. Maybe that's why most of them didn't like him. He didn't care, and they always cut ties with everything Jungkook related after the break up, so why would he?

He shouldn't be doing anything. Caring that you're crying alone in the middle of his living room goes against every rule he imposed onto himself. He should be cleansing his mind of you, stepping away from the weird not-friendship you two developed and going back to focusing on the things that matter. He shouldn’t let you climb up that list.

But as soon as he heard his roommate standing up and leaving, the itch at the back of his brain started screaming at him to do something. How can he step back and do nothing? He can’t be indifferent this time. Unfortunately, he does care. Unfortunately, every sob and quiet sniffle tugs at his heart and urges him to be there for you, to come out and try to be there for you as best he can.

The sight of you, even if it's not something he hadn't seen before, breaks him. Making yourself as little as possible, with your clothes wrinkled and your hair a mess, you let him sit by your side, the cold couch caving under him as he settles at a good enough distance that he’s close enough to feel him beside you, but not sticking to your side inappropriately.

The silence with him is a more understanding one. It’s not the first time he’s seen you cry, but you don’t dare say anything. Is there even something to say? You didn't argue, Jungkook didn't run away angry at you, he didn't tell you he hates you and wishes you were somebody else, yet, you feel as if he did something worse. Empty yet full of self deprecating thoughts you wouldn't voice out to the best psychologist on the planet. You couldn’t tell Mingyu even if you wanted to.

A hand, warm and firm, places just above your knee. It’s soft, careful, an innocent touch to understand that he’s there for you. The gesture is oddly comforting, and you allow yourself to feel everything. The embarrassment, the disappointment, the hurt, knowing Mingyu won't judge you for it.

“It’s not your fault.” Mingyu claims, his voice overpowering your racing thoughts.

Maybe it’s the way he says it so sincerely, but you break down even more. Your hands cover your face once again, bending down until your forehead touches your knees. Mingyu’s hand frees itself from the cage you created. He’s definitely had enough of your crying for the night by now. He tried to help and you repay him by dropping half your weight onto his hand and continue crying? If he leaves too, you wouldn’t blame him.

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

Your heart stops for a second, taking in your closeness and the reason behind it, and what he said about his close friend. Your head lays against Mingyu’s shoulder almost on its own, and he keeps you there, even if your tears start staining his shirt.

“He wasn’t like this before.” Your voice breaks trying to defend the you of the past, and the arm behind you stiffens before you feel his hand hold onto your other shoulder for comfort. “They warned me, and I didn’t listen.”

He shouldn’t be the one to tell you. Mingyu knows that. But you’re so broken, crumbling against him like there’s nothing else you can do, that he almost lets the truth slip out. It’s on the tip of his tongue, the thing that’ll break you even more. But he can’t allow himself to do it.

So, he stays silent, offering a place for you to let out all your feelings. Whatever you need to feel better, even if it’s just a little.

Mingyu doesn’t know how much time passes, or what you’re thinking, but he can feel how your breathing regulates with every second. Eventually, your sniffles become rarer and rarer, you straighten your posture and, unfortunately for him, step away from his hold.

“I’m sorry, I–” You can’t look him in the eyes, taken aback by the realization of what happened, guilt making you trip over your words, “I shouldn’t have–”

Getting up and gathering your things is the only thing you can think of doing. Whatever solace you found in his arms is now gone, replaced by an awkwardness you don’t know how to handle. Mingyu’s eyes bore holes on your back as you pick up your things that fell down when you first entered the apartment without care.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu’s gentle words help you relax, but the need to get out of the apartment is stronger. “You can stay, I don’t want you to leave while being upset.”

“I can’t be here, Mingyu.” You don’t mean to sound so hostile, but everywhere you look is a reminder of how pathetic you just were. It’s pushing you away.

“Is there anything I can do?” Mingyu hovers around you, not wanting to scare you away. He’ll do whatever you ask him to. “Anything.”

“I– I just want to be alone.” You walk yourself to the door, too tired to think about how you feel about everything that happened. Too busy to consider anything else. “I have to get ready for tomorrow.”

“Right, it’s tomorrow.” He’d forgotten about the college thing. Your college thing. He was so busy pretending to mind his own business and hiding from his feelings that he forgot you have your own life too. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Thank you…” Your hand rests on the door handle, hesitating leaving Mingyu after he helped you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your lips tight in the best smile you can manage, in an attempt to not seem mad at him.

“We’ll pick you up in the morning.” Mingyu announces, even if he knows you planned to come on your own.

“There’s no need for that.” You let out a sad, airy chuckle that squeezes Mingyu’s heart.

“No, We’ll–” he starts, but corrects himself, “I’ll pick you up. It’s not up to discussion. You, focus on resting.”

Mingyu takes the decision for you and opens the door himself, both of you ignoring the tingling at the touch of your hands. A quiet mumble goodbye is all you manage to say before going for the elevator. And Mingyu stays at the door until he’s sure the elevator’s going down.

The scorching mid-day sun heated the car so much you can’t rest against it. A few feet ahead, the guys stand in line at the convenience store at the gas station, with mainly energy drinks in hand and a few sandwiches. After driving the entire morning, everyone collectively decided to stop for a while for a bit of leg stretching and to recharge for more hours of driving.

It’s been a weird day from the start.

Mingyu picked you up like he promised, and even made sure you didn’t dare take an uber to their home by texting you they were on the way too early in the morning. You were about to open the uber app when he texted.

You barely got any sleep during the night, your brain switching from replaying the evening at Jungkook’s place and revising for the presentation. You rested so little, yet the usually soothing hum of the car isn’t helping you sleep, choosing to focus on everyone’s voice.

Since you opened your eyes, after tossing and turning all night, you didn’t let yourself think about anything that wasn’t the presentation. When to pause, how much to wave your hands in the air. It worked to an extent. But hearing Jungkook sitting by your side making the effort to talk to Cathlyn, who was sitting in the passenger seat while Mingyu was driving, almost made you go insane.

The only reason you’re alone waiting while the rest of them shop is because you insisted. No, you don’t need to go to the bathroom. No, you don’t want anything specific to eat. No, you don’t need to walk it out. Just in need of a little bit of peace. And Jungkook let you be. He’s been pretending nothing happened the previous night, and you’re glad he’s not forcing you to voice out your thoughts.

The bell above the store’s door chimes as everyone leaves altogether. Instinctively, you reach for the passenger’s door, as the idea was for Mingyu and Jungkook to switch seats so Mingyu can take a rest from driving, but a voice reaches you before you get the chance to open the car.

“Is it okay if I stay there?” Cathlyn runs over to you with a pack of chips in hand.

“Shotgun again?” Jungkook appears behind her, a sly smile on his face before he rounds the car to open the trunk.

She giggles at him but turns her attention back to you when she notices your silence and questioning look. “I’m sorry, I just get really dizzy in the backseat.”

Giving up on reality is easier than fighting it. You’re not going to be the one to deny the poor girl who just got broken up with. Sure, sit with your best friend, laugh with him and ignore the rest of the world outside your bubble. Who cares? “Sure, I don’t mind.”

The car is not that small, but with Cathlyn’s friend, who you didn’t know was coming on the trip until you were in front of the car on the street by your building, you end up between her and Mingyu in the backseat.

Feeling him by your side wakes up flashbacks from the previous night. But if before he was warm and comforting, he’s now rigid in place, looking out the window as the car gets back on the road. You don’t know what you expected, or why you feel a hint of disappointment at the pit of your stomach, but there’s nothing you can really do. You aren’t giving him many chances to be friendly with you either.

For a moment, you’re thankful for the cease in conversation, when Jungkook turns up the volume of the radio and random pop hits start entrancing everyone in the car into listening quietly. Cathlyn and her friend, who they call Mel, bob their heads to the song in sync without realizing, and it’s peaceful.

But then, the next song plays, and the two people sitting in the front part of the car collectively gasp. Mingyu shifts on your side, and you know he recognized what they did too.

“This is the song that–” Cathlyn starts, but they both laugh before she can finish explaining.

“He really hated you for that.” The only reason Jungkook’s eyes are on the road is because he’s driving, because if he weren’t, you’re sure he’d be laughing his ass off with Cathlyn.

“He hated me before too!” She slaps his shoulder before erupting into laughter again. “For no reason may I add.”

All three of you in the backseat just stare at them, listening, waiting for one of them to think of telling the anecdote. Your instincts want nothing more than to look at Mingyu, side eye him for a little help, but you fight them.

“What did you do?” Mel asks by your side, trying to get the attention from the party in the front.

“Our history teacher hated her in senior year.” Jungkook looks at Mel through the rear-view mirror. “She argued with him almost every day.”

“I can see her doing that.” While her friend chuckles at the bit of the story, Cathlyn still doesn’t turn around, almost exclusively laughing with Jungkook.

“And he threatened to fail me on the last test we had!”

“I keep telling you, there’s no way he would’ve done that.”

“It seemed like a very real threat to me.”

“So, you had to blast this song outside the classroom?”

“I had to make a show out of it!”

As they keep bickering about their senior year, leaving you out of the fun, the air around you becomes as awkward as ever. Mel’s laughing with them, the only one paying real attention to their jabs at each other. Mingyu, on the other hand, looks down as he plays with his fingers. You’re… bored.

The conversation you’re not a part of doesn’t interest you, the music’s no longer loud enough to help you take your mind off everything, and you have at least two more hours of agony.

So you focus on the cars on the road, the ones you pass, the ones that pass you, the grass, the animals, the farms, until your eyes finally close on their own.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

When you open your eyes again, the car’s slowing down, arriving at the motel that’ll house the five of you for the following days. It’s still bright outside, but the slightly orange tones in the sky and your stomach growling indicate the beginning of the evening.

A familiar hard surface below your temple holds your head in place. When exactly you fell asleep is the first question that pops up in your head. The second one answers itself quickly.

“We’re here.” Mingyu’s low voice accompanies his soft grip just above your knee, with a little reminder of the last time it was there.

As you lift your head and stretch your neck until it pops, it hits you. You fell asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder. A whole two hours where you bothered him, again. Made him take care of you, again.

“You should’ve woken me up.” Mingyu shakes his head at your intent of an apology, but you interrupt him before he speaks up, “I’m sure you were uncomfortable.”

“Really, I didn’t mind.” In the background, Cathlyn and Mel excuse themselves out of the car to look for their room in a rush. “I can wash all the drool off my shirt just fine.”

“I do not drool.” The way he chuckles compels you to join him. It’s easy, and the first time you even smiled in the day.

The door to the driver’s seat shuts closed with force, and both you and Mingyu scurry to get out of the car as soon as possible.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook studies you as he hands each of you your bags from the trunk. Cold as ice, he stays silent when Mingyu excuses himself to find their shared room.

“If your plan’s to make me jealous, that’s not gonna cut it.” Jungkook’s voice surprises you from behind, and the frown he wears on his face accompanies the angry tone.

“I didn’t plan anything.” He doesn’t speak to you the whole trip, and now he has the audacity to be mad at you? “But by the looks of it, whatever you think I did, it clearly worked.”

“Already looking for a rebound?” He follows behind you to the entrance of the motel.

“Jungkook, I don’t have time for this.”

You have hours and hours of practice ahead of you, and they might not be enough for your talk to be perfect. He knows the congress is a big deal to you, or at least he should. You can’t be thinking about anything else. Not about him. Not about your relationship with him. Not about Mingyu.

“Are you planning to break up with me?” You’ve never heard him talk like this before. He doesn’t sound hurt, just angry, jealous.

You scoff. “If you keep being an asshole, I might.” The answer blurts out without checking with your brain first. He didn’t expect you to say something back. You didn’t either.

“Fine.” Jungkook crosses his arms, waiting for you to say the words you’re not even sure you want to utter. “Do it.”

“Look, I can’t deal with this right now.” You take a deep breath, trying to think clearly, to not do anything impulsively. “You’re mad and I’m stressed. It’s not the best time.”

“Are you saying you’ll do it tomorrow?”

“What? I’m not saying anything, Jungkook, stop.” Your bag’s heavy on your shoulder as you rack your brain for anything to help you out of this. “Why don’t we take the night off, I’ll practice for tomorrow, you can relax after all the driving, and we’ll have a proper talk tomorrow. Okay?”

Jungkook huffs, mumbling something close to a ‘fine then, bye’ before storming off.

The back of your throat feels dry and hoarse from the hours of speech practice. How to modulate correctly, how to make your voice bigger. It takes a toll on you.

When you and your friends planned to do the finishing touches the night before the congress, none of you thought you’d be trapped in a tiny motel room for hours, tweaking the words to seem more professional, timing yourselves to fit in the 15 minute time slot, and even going as far as to plan when and how to look at the screen behind you.

Your stomach growls incessantly. You haven’t had anything to eat in hours, besides the simple dinner the three of you had after setting up in your rooms. Seeing every one of you is tired, the girls don’t stop you when you get up and leave the room in search of a vending machine.

Somehow, the balcony has better lighting than your hallway, and you spot a big vending machine just outside your hallway. Picking a snack is not hard when your tummy begs for anything, so you grab the random chip bag you picked and begin to head back when you hear a loud thud and a curse coming from the next hallway.

Judging by which hallway you’re walking into, and the sheer size of the person bending over in pain in front of their door, it’s Mingyu.

“Are you okay?” You rush to help him in any way you can.

Mingyu’s head shoots your way and he curses again. “Shit, it’s you, hi, yeah.” He grunts in between words and tries to stand up straight. “I closed the door right in my hand. It’s no big deal, really. Go rest for tomorrow.”

Even from afar, you could see the sweat stains on the back of his sleeveless t-shirt. His shallow breathing and sweat dripping down his hair and face welcome you as you reach him. It's a sight. His skin glistening under the white hallway lights catches your attention a second longer than it should before it goes back to the cause of his pain.

“You’re bleeding!” Taking a closer look at the hand he’s holding, you see a growing red bubble right under the ring finger’s nail. “Let’s get you inside.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Shut up and go put your hand under running cold water.” After he’s helped you so many times, the least you can do is google what to do when someone has a bubble of blood growing under their nail.

The empty room catches your attention as you read the quick answers your search pulled up. “Jungkook’s not here?”

Looking over to the open bathroom door, Mingyu’s hand is under the running tap like you instructed, but he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. He must know about the fight you two had.

“He went out with some friends that came here too.” He answers before giving up and drying his hand. “It’s not clearing out.”

You should be used to him sitting closely by your side. Your breath shouldn’t quicken and your hands shouldn’t sweat as the bed creaks below him. Actually, you need to stop getting into situations where Mingyu needs to sit beside you. But you can’t help it.

Maybe focusing on his minor injury can help your body relax. “Okay, so, google says it should go away on its own in like… two or three days.” Even if there’s so many questions you have for him that you avoided all day, it’s not the time.

“I'll have to stay with a blood bubble on my finger for days?” His threatening pout lifts your mood quickly.

You chuckle, taking his hand in yours once again. “Does it hurt?” Mingyu shakes his head with a small smile growing in his face, letting you have your way.

Now that he’s calmer than when you found him outside, his fingers relax in your hold as you look for any bruises. His hand that held you and comforted you one too many times, now being taken care of by you. Rushes of warm blood follow where your skin meets his, even the lightest of touches aren't free of his effect on you.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Your mouth betrays you once again, voicing out your thoughts instead of getting through the silence. “Your friends.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” His answer is simple. And you wish it was enough to satiate your curiosity, but you simply can't stop asking questions.

“Nothing more?” You don't know what you expect him to answer. Maybe you're just looking for excuses to keep talking to him, to stay in the momentary bubble that surrounds you every time you’re with him.

“I haven't been… liking him much lately.”

Mingyu's careful with his choice of words. Still believing it’s not his place to talk about what goes on in Jungkook’s life, he can’t not be honest with you, not when you’re so close to him he’s sure you can read every expression on his face.

A drop of sweat drips down the side of his face, training your eyes to follow its way down until it dampens the side of his mouth.

“You're best friends.” A remainder, more to yourself than to him.

“Doesn't mean I have to agree with everything he does.”

Mingyu hopes you understand the meaning behind his words.

You hope he doesn't notice the way your eyes stayed too long on his moving lips before going back to his eyes.

You both hope for things you can't voice out, charging the little space between your stares with electricity. With his hand forgotten in your hold, reading his expression becomes your main task.

None of you dare move, and you know, somehow, that he's waiting for you to do something –anything. What you don't know is what you want.

Your phone chimes in your back pocket just when you part your lips to speak. There's a millisecond, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't watching Mingyu's gaze closely, where his eyes drift down your face. With your lips dry at his attention, you break the spell, letting go of his hand to reach for your phone.

Nayeon asks where you disappeared to, and sends a long chain of suspecting emojis when you tell her who you’re with.

“I–I have to get back.” Getting up from the weak motel bed in a flash, Mingyu's eyes follow you to the door. “Sorry for taking up your time.”

“You gotta stop with that.” He stops you in your tracks, with a soft grip on your wrist to turn you back to him.

“Stop talking like you're a bother.” He doesn't let you dismiss him. “You don't bother me. I wouldn't spend time with you if you did.”

“You didn't use to like me. And now you pity me, that's why you spend time with me.” Even if you'd like to believe otherwise.

“That's not true.” He doesn't let go of you, and you stop aiming to get out the door. “I don't pity you.”

“You never talked to me until you caught me crying that day.” Your head tilts, trying not to seem so serious with your counter argument.

Another text comes through your phone. You shouldn't be wasting time on such an important night. But is it really wasted time if you're spending it with him?

“It wasn't about you.” Mingyu reveals, but it doesn't really clear up your doubts. “I don't like getting to know people I'm not sure will stick around.”

“So, it's true.” You bring your arm out of his grip, a way to protect yourself. “I wasn't supposed to last this long.”

“Look. It's not my place, and I've already gotten too involved.” Mingyu's words fly over you, choosing not to overthink what he means. “Jungkook's shit is Jungkook’s shit, but you can decide what to do too. Don't wait for him to make a decision for you.”

“I'm capable of making my own decisions, Mingyu.” You say, convinced but weary of his tone.

“I know you are. He doesn't.”

The silence is striking, breathtaking, heartstopping. Words don't come up in your brain, an infinite echo of Mingyu's remark rendering you incapable of following a simple order.

“See you tomorrow.” You can only offer him a small smile before finally leaving the room full of him.

The applause almost breaks you down. You can finally take a deep breath. The thing you’ve been preparing for weeks, taking up most of your sleep time and raising the bar for how much stress you can handle, is finally done.

Well, not completely. Your speech is done, yes, but the time for questions begins. Jennie and Nayeon answer everything swiftly as your eyes scan the room for any known faces. You finished the presentation and you can barely catch your breath as your heart tries to slow down, so they take on the most annoying part of the job.

From across the room, behind the people eager to ask their questions with their hands in the air or attentively listen to your friends’ responses, the tall man only looking at you makes your heart stop.

Was he there the whole time? When you speak in a room full of people, you tend to disappear into your own mind, barely registering what surrounds you until your time’s up. He could've just got here, but deep down you know he didn’t. Deep down, you know he’s been there since the start, supporting you without your knowledge.

As a hand on your shoulder starts gently dragging you away from the stand, splitting the way between your connected stares, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. You're done, you can carry on with your life.

In the hallway just outside where you just spent the most stressful hours of your life, you can hear the next group beginning their presentation, one that luckily you’re not required to be present for. Perks of being in the line up.

Getting out the other door, Mingyu searches for you and finds you walking over to him with the biggest smile adorning your face.

“What did you think?” Your friends’ giggles make it to your ears from behind. Merging the constant teasing you’re the victim of with their infatuation with Mingyu is dangerous, but there really is only one thing in your mind now.

“You talked really well.” The highlight of every word as his eyebrows wiggle with confusion lights a warmth in your belly that spreads across your body into a chuckle.

“You didn’t understand a thing, did you?”

“I didn’t.” It’s his chuckle, and his smile, and his eyes glimmering, and his chin tilted down to get a better look at you.

Have you ever felt this way before? Easy under someone’s gaze, unafraid of making them feel less intelligent. He’s… genuinely happy for you. Out of all the presentations in the schedule, your subject matter was the least close to his field, yet he chose to listen to your sociology lesson.

“Thank you for coming.” You say before the magic fades. “You–you didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to miss it.” He’s the most genuine he can possibly be.

Mingyu undoubtedly, and selfishly, cares about you. From the sidelines, he saw you getting the opportunity, the toll the preparations were taking on you. He wasn’t going to skip one of the biggest moments of your life after seeing you struggle for so long.

“That makes one of you.” You don’t mean it to sound as spiteful, but the sour taste in your mouth as you realize who isn’t present triggers the resentful tone. “Anyway, I’m not gonna let some asshole ruin my day! We’re going to celebrate with the girls and some guys I have no idea how they managed to make friends with, do you want to come?”

Mingyu doesn't think about what you mean behind your invitation. “Sure, if you want me there.” He’d jump at any chance he got to spend time with you.

Ever since that night at the pool bar, Mingyu never forgot your willingness to not let one bad moment overshadow an otherwise enjoyable day. A quality he could learn from. That’s why, he also can’t forget about the moments he comforted you, when everything became so overwhelming you had no choice but to let it all out.

“Let’s go then!” Your hand aims to stretch back for him to take, but the little angel on your shoulder wins this round, and you just walk out the hall with Mingyu following you, hand hanging cold by your side.

The evening sky greets you on the outside world, and the fresh air filling your lungs after being trapped inside the suffocating new college is very welcomed by your body.

Following your friends wherever they go, letting them choose which bar or club to go celebrate, you can only smile and silently walk behind them. Mingyu’s towering presence occupies the space to your right. He’s also silent, admiring the new city, letting you have the unspeaking moment you need.

It’s not long before you’re getting into a club with flashing colored lights and loud pop music coming out of the speakers. The sense of accomplishment embodies you whole. One less thing to worry about, one less thing weighing you down. You won't let anyone take the freedom from you.

It’s a carefree night. You let yourself be dragged to the packed dance floor, your friends leading the way amidst all the bodies crowding as they dance out of sync.

Being drunk could never compare to the happiness you feel as you join everyone dancing. You allow the music to take over you, with your hips and limbs coordinating to the rhythm of each song playing, blending into the sea of people.

You don't know when, you don't care how, and with no will to stop, you and Mingyu drift towards each other, the little space and dim atmosphere making it easy to hide everything wrong with what you're doing.

“You're happy.” Mingyu leans down to say to your ear. The only way you could hear him over all the noise.

“I am!” You don't fight the smile growing in your lips, focusing on the way Mingyu's eyes scan your face under the blue lights.

This time, the battle between the little angel and the devil dictating your choices ends with the victory of the mischievous voice that tells you to inch closer to Mingyu.

With the excuse of the loud music, you stand on your tiptoes to reach the side of his face, your lips grazing his ear as you say, “I'm glad you came.”

His hands steady you in place before you lose your balance, holding onto your hips and keeping you in place.

You should swat his hands away. He should stand back from the girl who isn't his. The tension sizzles from the tip of his fingers barely dipping into a bit of uncovered skin and up your body until your chest tightens.

“I'm sure you'd want someone else here.” Even with the scandalous meaning behind his words, you don't ignore the light teasing tone he purposely uses.

“I'm not thinking about him right now.” His eyes search for yours, finding only truth in them.

The people surrounding you, unscrupulously dancing against each other and paying you no mind, sway your bodies from side to side. Neither of you make a move to separate, letting the pushing crowd be the excuse for your closeness. You have the urge to wrap your arms around his neck, but you fight it. Maybe if he was something else, you would.

But the universe would never let you be this careless without some karma waiting for you.

When your gaze reluctantly disconnects from Mingyu's in search for your friends, the sight of two familiar people catches your attention a few meters to the side. You should've known he was with her. That he'd choose her over you even for this.

They're just dancing, and you can't complain about it because you're currently in the arms of another man too. It's just… different.

Your hands find Mingyu's still on your sides, grabbing them softly to get them off you as your eyes go from the scene you just witnessed to him and then back. Of course, he gets it immediately.

“I can talk to him.” Mingyu has this instinct now, to shield you from having a bad time.

“No, I'll do it. I have a few things in mind to say.” While you appreciate him wanting to help, it’s something you have to do on your own. You can’t shield behind Mingyu any longer.

Making the sacrifice of looking like a psychotic girlfriend, the adrenaline moves your legs forward, no time to think further about what you’re about to do. They don’t see you coming, they probably didn’t even see you with Mingyu before, too sucked into their bubble to notice other people.

“Jungkook.” His shocked expression just confirms your theory. He notices you’re mad quickly, but the wheels turning in his mind, failing to find the reason for your anger, are so visible you can’t control your mouth. “Glad to see you’re having fun.”

“Hi, babe! I didn’t—see you come in!” He leans into the wall behind him for support, body as stiff as ever. “Having a good time?”

“Are you kidding me?” Admittedly, you’re raising your voice a few decibels over the necessary amount, but you’ve never cared less about drawing attention than at this moment. “You really forgot, huh?”

Only then, Jungkook realizes he messed up. It’s not normal to see you angry, especially not at him. “Let’s talk outside, okay? It’s quieter.”

You catch his eyes going back to Cathlyn before he places a hand on your lower back to direct you to the door. Astonishing, really.

“You could make it less obvious, at least.” The harsh cold night wind slaps you even more awake. “I’m not stupid, Jungkook.”

You’re not dressed to be standing outside on the street at this hour. The city’s too windy, making you shiver as if it was the middle of winter. You don’t want to look weak in Jungkook’s eyes, you need to look like you stand your ground. The cold is a mental state anyway, you can fight it.

“You’re not, babe, but what are you talking about? What are you doing here?” His cluelessness does everything but help his situation.

“We’re celebrating that our presentation was a success.” At the news, everything clicks in Jungkook’s mind.

“It was today.” Jungkook reminds himself out loud.

“Of course it was today! Why else do you think we drove all this way?” He has to be a special kind of disengaged and disinterested to selectively wipe his memory like this, you think.

“I’m sorry, baby! So much happened today, and I thought you didn’t want to see me after last night.”

“Don’t use one fight as an excuse. You forgot or you didn’t care. Either way, this was important to me and you didn’t come.”

People passing you on the street side eye the scene you’re making. Jungkook seems to care about being judged, taking in account the way his eyes widen at every raise of your voice.

At his silence, you keep going. “What did Cathlyn fucking need this time? What could have possibly been more important than your girlfriend?” It feels pathetic to call yourself that.

“You have to understand,” his voice becomes tense at the utterance of her name, “she’s my best friend. She means everything to me.”

You’re positive she’s listening to all of this. Hiding behind the club’s door waiting for the chance to come out and comfort her oh so dear best friend. It’s not her fault, but it’s hard not to grow an ill feeling thinking about her.

“Don’t I mean anything? Why get into a relationship with me if you won’t take it seriously? If you’re in love with someone else?”

It’s hard to form an articulated sentence when the anger and the sadness spar in your mind. It’s hard not to feel desperate, a pitiful attempt at making a careless man care about you.

Your gaze trains on the floor, tuning out Jungkook’s lame excuses and not truthful apologies. Without looking at him, and with only the grey sidewalk on sight, it’s like you can think clearly for the first time.

“I’m sorry, baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” It’s just a moment where you let his words register, and it’s the last thing you need to decide.

“No. You won’t.”

Jungkook shuts up instantly. Your gaze doesn’t falter this time, locking into his with your best poker face. You can see every thought passing through his mind, every little reaction he fights to show. He analyzes your expression, looking for another meaning, for any sign that you don’t mean what you said.

“I promise I will, baby, c’mon.”

The thing is, after so many promises, those words coming out of his mouth become meaningless. They’re just empty words he uses to get you to forgive him, he’s not being truthful, he’s just begging so he can feel better with himself.

“No! You won’t! That was your last chance.” It gets clearer and clearer to him what you’re saying.

You shouldn't have been silently enduring the scraps of his attention he was giving you. Waiting for your growing feelings to be reciprocated by someone who doesn’t respect you. Those feelings, however big or small —you’re not sure, quickly started dissipating at the realization that he simply didn’t care. It wasn’t his memory, or his busy schedule, it was the lack of intention. Care and intention he always showed to someone else.

“Babe…” He sounds like he gave up too, one last pity attempt you know he doesn’t mean.

“We’re done. You never wanted to be with me, and I certainly don’t want to be with you anymore.”

When you start walking away, Jungkook doesn’t stop you, standing where you left him with his eyes lost to the ghostly street.

Realizing the burden he’s been on your life and letting it go finally lets you see clearly. Your night might’ve been ruined, but you’re liberated from that pain. You’re not happy, but you’re not sad either, just walking forward, a new future ahead.

You’ve walked almost two whole blocks, the motel a half block away, when the sound of rushed steps chasing you alerts you. You didn’t think anyone would be coming after you, but you realize who it is right when the figure appears in your line of sight.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu’s breathless, slowing his pace to match yours. He definitely heard everything that happened.

“Yeah, I think so.” Even if you sound convinced, he stays walking with you.

“I’ll walk you inside.” He doesn’t look back, deciding on what to do. But you know he should be making sure his friend is okay. You guess he is, though.

“I'll be fine. You can stay with—”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.” Mingyu interrupts you before you can say the other’s name. “I don't care about him right now.”

Your heart stops for a moment before your brain catches up. All those times Jungkook left you and Mingyu came right to the rescue, when he got annoyed at them in the pool bar, or admitting he didn’t like what Jungkook was “choosing”. Of course he has to know how his best friend and roommate feels about everyone.

“You knew it all this time.” He doesn’t look at you, staring at the distance as he listens closely. “That he’s in love with her.”

“I didn't want to be the one to tell you.”

Your room door’s just one step away now, but you still stop in your tracks at his words. You never thought of his silence as his way to shield you from the truth. You never thought that the initial pity he took on you —even if he denies it, came from a place of hiding something from you.

“He was in love with somebody else while being with me! That’s the kind of thing you need to tell me!” Luckily, the hallway is completely deserted at this hour. You wouldn’t want to make another scene. You’re more aware of everything now, free but raw, as if anything could scar you.

“It wasn't my place!” For a second you understand Mingyu. Imagining him even implying it hurts more than realizing the truth yourself. But it still hurts. You trusted him with your most vulnerable moments, and all that time he hid that he knew the real cause for that pain. “And don't act like you didn't know it too.”

Mingyu’s harsh comment feels like a punch in the gut. There’s no malice in his tone, you’ve come to know him and his tendency to be too direct sometimes, it was just unexpected this time.

But he is right. There were signs everywhere for you to see, signs you turned a blind eye to. It was a thought that often crossed the back of your mind, but you dismissed it before you could think about it further. You were stupid to think you were paranoid and it meant nothing.

“Stop.” You realize you weren't looking at him and shoot your gaze up. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t blame yourself. He’s the asshole and you’re not at fault for believing him.”

“But I shouldn’t have. I thought I was smarter than that, turns out I’m just dumb.” You want to curl up in bed, hide from the judging outside world and forget all about Jungkook and the past few weeks. But not all of it.

“He’s the dumb one for not seeing how great you are.” Mingyu's hand on your shoulder manages to comfort you enough to hold off on the tears. “Are you okay? About breaking it off?”

“I know it was the right choice for me. But I have to assimilate it, I think. Sleep it off”

Mingyu nods in acknowledgement as your hand reaches for the doorknob. As if that was your way of ending the conversation, he turns his body to head out the grimy hallway, because he knows what’s next. You’ll cut off everything related to your now ex, a pack of memories in which he himself is included. This is why he shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. There’s no way you’ll want to be in touch with him after everything.

“Mingyu.” It’s your voice that makes him turn around. Even considering how heartbroken you must be, there’s a slight grin on your face as you think about what to say next. “I didn’t say I wanted to be alone.”

His heart accelerates as if it was miles ahead of the thought process his brain is having a hard time catching up with. Still, beyond whatever he wants and feels, he knows you need some time to think clearly, someone to be there for you regardless of feelings.

At his hesitation, you open the door and look back at him as you enter. It’s a clear invitation, one he accepts immediately.

After closing the door behind him, the unmade bed calls his name and he sits at the edge to take his shoes off as you begin your night routine in front of the bathroom mirror.

“I’m curious about something.” You look cute smothering moisturizing cream all across your face, Mingyu thinks. “Do you think she likes him back?”

He finds it in himself to chuckle. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”

“Look, I won’t be sad about it if I can turn it into a gossip session later. It’s my way of getting over things, so please just indulge me this time.”

You’re looking at him as you tap your face with the pads of your fingers. Mingyu doesn’t see an ounce of sadness in your expression, instead, you’re very serious with what you’re asking. And he won’t argue with that logic, if that’s what it takes to help you forget and spend more time with you.

“She never told me anything.” Your half closed eyes and head turned to the side signal Mingyu to keep talking. “If he confessed, I think she could like him back. They already act like a couple anyway.”

Mingyu realizes he went too far. You don’t say anything, but your shoulders slouch before you grab your pajamas from the nightstand and lock yourself in the bathroom. That was definitely not what you wanted to hear. Shit.

“I hope they can finally realize they’re idiots.” When the door opens to reveal the loose but all too revealing clothes barely covering your body, Mingyu can almost hear all the air in his lungs escaping at once. “Are you getting in bed?”

Maybe it’s his mind playing sick games with him. You can’t possibly be asking him to slip under the covers with you and be calm about it. There’s a lot of things he can calmly face up to. The idea of laying down so close to the person who’s been making a mess of his every thought is not one of those.

Still, he follows suit with your not so indirect invite. He doesn’t want to make assumptions about you, about the situation, or about what you want, so he lets you take the lead for tonight. Trusting that you’ll show him what you need and believing that he can give it to you.

The both of you lay awkwardly side by side, facing the ceiling deep in thought. Only the breathing sounds and the way your arm grazes against his keep Mingyu’s senses in check. He feels like a highschooler having his first conversation with his crush. He can no longer be the cool, calm self he praised himself to be. So, he resorts to silence.

“Was he always like that? Ending relationships after realizing it’s not what he wants?” You turn in your place, facing him with those doe eyes of yours that always make him fold.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s the girls that break up with him.” He mirrors your position, feeling better at the entire situation when he sees your smile at his comment.

“Good for them.”

There’s something in your gaze that makes Mingyu question if it’s worth it to be loyal to his friend. Though that moral code must’ve been broken already, there’s still a line, no matter how thin, he hasn’t crossed yet. Emphasis on ‘he’, because he can never be sure what’s your next move.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He dares to ask again.

Mingyu’s hyper aware of how close you are. How you shift a bit closer to him as you think your answer. He thought the clothes he was wearing were okay to sleep in, but his bodily temperature keeps rising at the thought of you.

“I still feel a bit stupid.” He can’t stand hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he doesn’t get to argue. You shut his mouth closed, placing your index finger on the center of his lips before he can utter a word. A touch so innocent he immediately feels bad at how electrifying it felt. “My friends warned me that his relationships never lasted. And I guess I wanted to see it for myself. Have the empirical data, if you will.”

He sees your gaze go down from his eyes, and your hand goes down with it to whatever caught your attention. He swallows hard, waiting for just one signal. The chain around his neck tugs at the back, and he realizes you’re inspecting the little charm hanging from it.

“It’s not like I was in love with him.” Every word you say feels like fire on his end. “He was fun at first. That’s what I liked about him.”

You play with Mingyu’s chain like it’s second nature. Like you don’t realize your hand’s dangerously close to his chest, about to feel the beating of his heart growing stronger each second.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” That makes your eyes go up again, eyelashes fluttering so close he could count each one of them.

“I get why you didn’t, you’re a good friend. And I think it was better for me to realize on my own, if that makes you feel any better.” The smile that grows on him matches yours perfectly.

“I don’t know how much of a good friend I am anymore.” The honesty slips out of him under your scanning stare. “I’m here after all, aren’t I?”

Mingyu should feel guilty. He left the bar to go after you without so much of a second thought, leaving his supposed best friend to deal with everything on his own. That’s how much he cares about you. His need for you overflows into every area of his life, making the guilt disappear into the stream of things that don’t matter. You’re not taken anymore. And, deep down, he knows Jungkook’s going to be fine. He doesn’t care about you even a fraction of how much Mingyu does.

He’s still deep in thought when he feels your hand going up the side of his jaw. Your icy fingers contrast against his fiery skin, driving him to lean into your touch. He’d close his eyes and let you do anything you wanted if it wasn’t for the intoxicating force of your gaze.

The irrational part of his brain doesn’t let him stop you as your face gets closer so his. You’re slowly testing the waters, seeing if he’ll back down, but Mingyu’s quicker, and leans down the last millimeters to finally connect.

Your lips melt against his with a soft sigh, and everything stills for a moment. Enveloped with the tenderness of your touch, he feels you hazily pressing further against him, unsurely yearning for more.

But the rational part of his brain, the one that tugs on the last strand of morale he has, retrieves his head from your electrifying kiss.

“We shouldn’t—” Mingyu regrets it instantly at the sight of your saddened eyes. But he knows it’s for the best. He couldn’t live with himself if you weren’t sure.

“You don’t want to?” The way your hand flies away from his personal space almost makes him take it and put it back where it belongs.

“I do.” He sounds desperate. He needs you to understand. “But you should see how you feel when you have a clear mind.”

A thousand thoughts rush through your mind, visibly turning your expression soft again. Mingyu offers his arm for you to lay on, the most outlandish peace offering he can make without losing his mind first.

“Okay.” Your soft voice reverberates up his arm as you lay your head on his relaxed bicep. “Do you want to leave?”

He couldn't begin to imagine any dimension in the multiverse where he'd choose to stay away from the featheriness of your skin against his. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I asked you first.” Your light chuckle heals the worry beginning to creep up on Mingyu. In the future, he'll make sure you never doubt him again.

“I don't want to leave.”

The way your smile keeps making a blank slate of his brain should worry Mingyu. But he's never felt this way before, and if there's a chance, however big or small, that you could feel the same way, he won't go back.

“And I want you to stay.”

The morning sun rays bleed through the flimsy curtain, illuminating the otherwise plain motel room in a golden light. You feel warm all around, wrapped in Mingyu’s arms instead of the bedsheets that sometime along the night seem to have fallen to the floor.

But even in the confinement of Mingyu’s backhug, you feel free. What has been dragging your spirit through the floor finally cut from your life. The previous night’s events faded to a distant memory as soon as you laid your head in Mingyu’s chest and drifted to the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You don’t dare turn in his hold, afraid to wake him up and make him face the day. That’s the one thing you haven’t been able to dust off since you opened your eyes. The guilt.

Maybe for you, cutting Jungkook out of your life was the best decision, but Mingyu was his friend first, and last night, for whatever reason, he chose you. He chose to comfort the whiny girl that dumped his boyfriend instead of his best friend since they were in the womb.

The morning with him feels like sunrises on the beach, like a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day, like being trapped in an infinite bear hug. It feels like hope. And the guilt from wanting it all could consume you whole just like the need for him.

Mingyu must have mind reading superpowers, because his arms tighten around you before the guilt overwhelms you, easily forgetting it all at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

Neither of you say anything, sharing the comfortable silence, relishing being in each other’s arms. You don’t stop him when he tangles his legs with yours, feeling him everywhere from head to toe. You let your hands caress his forearms as they drift dangerously close to your lower belly.

It’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong on some moral level. Borderline evil even. It’s too soon, and you need to understand what you’re feeling before moving forward with whatever this is. This that feels so nice, so right, but so wrong.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to be having the same moral dilemma that’s running around your mind anymore. The hardness you feel pressing against your inner thigh followed by a gasp that spreads goosebumps all across your back confirming your theory.

In the morning haze, in the limbo between days where time doesn’t run and actions don’t have consequences, you give into his infectious desire. The agreement you made the night before flying out the window as soon as a fire ignites all across your body.

You purposely grind against him, the indecent action causing your face to feel even warmer. A low moan gets caught in Mingyu’s throat at the feeling of your ass against his morning wood, one hand gripping your hip to keep you in place.

“What are you doing?” His raspy voice sends another fire down your body, making you squirm in his grip.

“Nothing.” You feign innocence, pretending to straighten your posture but ultimately pressing yourself harder against his chest. “You don't like it?”

The space between your bodies is crushed impossibly tighter until all you can feel are his muscles tensing in his search for you. The barrier you left standing the night before, demolished with little care as he sighs to your ear.

“It's not that, princess,” every bit of skin Mingyu touches works like a button to make you need him more and more, “we should wait.”

You'd agree with him if it wasn't for the elastic of your sleeping shorts stretching to fit his wandering hand. It’s a timid action, one that contradicts his words but only gets encouraged by your gasp. These aren’t the hands that held you close when you were broken, no, these are the ones that felt you shiver pretending to teach you to play pool, the ones that pushed you against him in the dimness of the club. The ones you crave with your whole body.

At your reaction, he drifts further down, playing with the hem of your panties so painfully slow the grip of your hand on his forearm grows stronger with each second he doesn't fully touch you. His lips graze your shoulder, trying to contain himself from kissing every inch he can reach.

When he flattens on your pelvis, pressing you against his faltering hips, you swear your whimper drives him to not so innocently thrust behind you. The room is impossibly hot, but you don’t care, nothing matters other than your need to feel him inside.

Your mouth opens, hoping to work enough to plead for him, but a loud knock on your door startles you both out of the embrace.

If the earth it’s going to swallow you at any point in life, you hope it’s right then and there. Your panties are uncomfortably sticky as your embarrassed gaze connects with Mingyu, the both of you speechless with guilt. The most awkward second ever before another knock echoes into the room.

“Tell Jennie I’ll be out in a second? I promised her we’d go out for breakfast together.”

The embarrassment doesn’t let you look at him a second longer before you lock yourself in the bathroom. Maybe a splash of cold water on your face can help you not look like you just got cockblocked.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

However Mingyu thought his morning would go, the reality was far from his imagination, though it felt far better. He wouldn't mind waking up next to you again, heating up your skin with his touch until you whimper for him.

The sight of you, just woken up and shy at the boldness of what you just did, puts a sheepish smirk on his face. He almost forgets the wrongness of everything. But the decision he made, selfish and long forgotten, quickly comes back to bite him in the ass as he opens the door.

“Wow, this is a nice sight!” Jungkook's face morphs into sarcastic shock as the door reveals a disheveled Mingyu.

“What are you doing here?” In all honesty, Mingyu didn’t think about his friend last night, deep down knowing he wasn’t going to be hurt for long.

“Are you her bodyguard now? I just want to talk about last night.” Jungkook attempts to take half a step into your room, but Mingyu immediately blocks the door.

“It’s not the time to get in my way, man.” The baseless threat doesn’t make Mingyu budge in the slightest, which pisses Jungkook off. The man’s eyes widen after scanning the state of the room. “Did you fuck her?”

“What?” Mingyu can't believe what he's hearing.

“I asked, Did. You. Fuck. Her?” Speaking each word with clenched teeth, Jungkook's voice bleeds anger.

“Why do you care?”

Jungkook barely lets him finish his question. “So you fucked her.”

The crude language puts a bitter taste in Mingyu's mouth. As if only the sex mattered and not everything else. Not that he comforted you at your weakest, that you opened up your heart to him, that you kissed him so softly he almost passed out. Mingyu can only hope the bathroom door miraculously becomes soundproof.

“Don't pretend to care about her now.” Never in his life has he talked to Jungkook this way, always afraid of what could happen to their friendship if he tried to put some sense into him. Then again, his actions never hurt someone Mingyu actually cared about.

“I bet you couldn’t wait for me to dump her.” The words spit out of Jungkook’s mouth like acid. “Eager to take on my leftovers.”

“Dude, I get that you're mad, but you're getting out of line.” The peacemaker in Mingyu takes over —it’s either that or a punch in the face, and tries to get his friend back in the hallway.

“I’m not mad!” He gasps with a hand to his chest. “Just shocked, that's all. Didn’t even let a day pass.” Venom coats every word he says, justifiably betrayed by the one friend he thought he could always count with.

“I didn’t mean for it to come to this,” Mingyu admits quietly, “I wasn’t supposed to care.”

There’s nothing as Jungkook processes those words. A tense second that becomes an infinite one, a void sucking every apology out of his mouth. Mingyu would pay millions to know what’s going on in his friend’s head. He could always tell what he was feeling even when he shut everyone off. But he was never the one causing his anger.

“I can g—”

“I’ll take the bus home with Cathy.” Is all Jungkook says.

His blank face waits for Mingyu to nod before walking away with no second thoughts. Out of the million outcomes he thought for this conversation, Mingyu never thought he’d be the one left speechless. But they both clearly need some time alone before going back to being roommates, before talking like two grown adults and resolving this.

It’s the sound of a door closing just meters behind him that takes him back to the room, your room.

Mingyu doesn’t know what to do to shield you from the hurt. He’s tired of simply being there to comfort you in the aftermath. He can’t stand the sight before him, your lips turn downwards trying to get a hold of your feelings. He can see it all, the process of all the emotions going through your brain, until your face settles to a serious expression.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Mingyu stays at the threshold of the door, not sure if you’d still want him as company.

“Don’t be. I’m glad I did.” You stay put in place, half a step from the messy bed, looking everywhere but at him. “At least I don’t have to feel guilty anymore.”

Guilt. That’s what he noticed when he gained consciousness and felt you tense in his hold. “About what happened earlier—”

“I’m sorry about that,” you interrupt him in his hesitation, “you said you didn’t want to and I crossed the line.”

“It’s not—” Your lips part in surprise as your eyes fly to his. “I—shit, I don’t want you to think I’m only being nice for something in return.”

“You should be glad I don’t think of you that way.” It’s a weird feel of rejection, the one in your heart as you start picking up your things. A man says he doesn’t want to have sex after rubbing himself against you and fighting with your ex boyfriend. “We should pack, get ready to leave.”

“What do you think of me then?”

Mingyu standing leaning against the doorframe, following your every move with his eyes, makes you stumble upon every possible obstacle on your way. Even with your gaze elsewhere, you can feel him watching your every move.

“I think you’re a good man that lacks a sense of urgency.” Unfortunately, you didn’t bring much stuff on the trip, and you’re getting to the end of things to take your mind off of Mingyu. “Are you going to stare at me all day?”

“I like you.” Mingyu’s sure about a lot of things, but at the weight lifting from his shoulders, the way you stop at his words and how you wait for him to continue, he’s certain he’s never felt like this before. “I’m sorry if that's weird and wrong to say, but I do.”

“I—” There’s no way to describe it, how your mind clears of any reasonable thought the second those words escape Mingyu’s lips.

“You don’t have to say anything. Like I said last night, I want you to figure out how you feel on your own time. I’ll be here, you can count on me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His assurance helps. He somehow always knows how to help you, what to say, how to act.

Before you know it, you’re face to face with him, his warmth embracing you as he tilts his head down, waiting for your next move. Your cheek lays softly on his chest after wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly, the only way you have to express your gratitude.

Warm air effortlessly fills your lungs, the scent of him coating every one of your senses as he replicates your hug. His arms feel right around you, as if you were meant to be like this forever, and you relax in his hold.

“Thank you.” Two simple words that mean so much more are the only thing you manage to utter, hoping he'll understand.

“Always.”

Some girls my friends met at the congress came to town and begged for us to take them to a club Do you want to come? It’s close to my place

As soon as you press send, you throw your phone at your bed on the other side of the room.

It’s been two weeks since the most eventful weekend of your life. Two weeks since you finally stood up for yourself and chose your well being for once. Two weeks since Mingyu started being one of the most important parts of your everyday life.

Those afternoons when he made you wonder if you actually fit in his friend’s life, when the thought of him would cause you an immediate headache, feel like a ghost of the past. You couldn’t imagine not being around him now, not receiving his ominous texts in the middle of the night after he finishes a random project for college that you don’t understand, or not seeing his face after class when he picks you up and rambles about how good his class was that day.

He promised he’d be there for you, waiting for you to see how you feel about him without expecting anything in return. And every day that passes, the hurt and confusion fades away bit by bit, and a new, stronger, unexplored, feeling grows in your heart.

You don’t know what compelled you to invite Mingyu out of nowhere. You’re fully dressed, about to leave and with your friends already waiting on your building’s front door, but something at the back of your mind itched with a potent need to see him. Your fingers clicked on his contact and texted him before you could realize what you were doing.

It’s not two minutes later that your phone vibrates with a new notification. Your skin crawls with the combined anxiety of wanting to see him but also not wanting to see him at all. The usual two feelings that fight to take over every time you think of him.

You’re quick to run out your apartment before your friends come up and drag you out themselves. With your unlocked phone in hand, Mingyu’s name lights up your screen.

Sure. Text me address. I’ll meet you there.

The simplicity of his texts always makes you chuckle, embarrassingly smitten by his short sentences. You quickly text him the name and address before hopping off the elevator and joining your friends in the cold weather in which you’re not meant to be wearing the club clothing you chose.

You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit you were nervous to see Mingyu. The change came without warning. After getting used to him checking up on you, learning your coffee order and your class schedule, the anticipation started taking over you. Your eyes look for him around campus, your feet flee out of your classroom knowing he’s going to be there waiting for you.

You try to distract yourself when you get too in your mind about it, about him. It’s a difficult new kind of occurrence you’re not sure how to navigate, so you resort to acting nonchalant about it. That’s why, when he arrives and your friends make eyes at you, you don’t let the subject go further than admitting you invited him. It’s a normal thing for people to invite their friends to hang out!

But no matter how hard you try, your eyes don’t stop wandering to the bar, where Mingyu’s forgotten his quest to get another round of drinks and is talking to the most graceful and gorgeous woman alive.

Of course, Mingyu chose tonight of all nights to look like a prince coming to the rescue. A fitted black shirt that even with the lack of light inside the club managed to highlight his build. You almost fainted when he locked eyes with you across the room and smiled walking all the way to you.

And you’d caught that girl’s eyes glued to him when he first entered the club and greeted you all. As soon as he took one step away from you to walk to the bar, the girl unhooked herself from your group and followed him.

“I wonder what’s taking so long with the drinks," You’re barely processing your words as they leave your mouth. As if you haven’t been policing the interaction since it started.

“Yeah, did he…” Jennie’s voice trails out before she can finish, following the line of sight you basically burned in the air after so many stares. A small smirk flashes through her before she mumbles, “Oh.”

Now there’s four more pairs of eyes witnessing why you’re making a fool out of yourself.

“Guess he found something else to do.” Still digging your own grave, you can’t stop making stupid comments.

Jennie and Nayeon exchange a look you’re too busy to catch, while you make sure your empty drink is still… empty. Yeah, the very interesting plastic cup in your hand. Definitely the most interesting sight you can be staring at. The cheap cocktail you thought could ease out the anxiety, and now that the little effect it had left your body, all you can do is laugh at yourself.

“Who is she anyway?” You didn’t even catch her name before she jumped at the chance to get Mingyu alone.

“We presented right after her.” Your friend’s voice barely reaches you over the loud music, and on top of that, you don’t really care to know much about her anyway.

“Right…”

It’s not a big deal. What else did you expect? That he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you like the last time you were in a club together? That you’d feel him all around you again as he felt you up with everyone watching? Stupid. You got too comfortable, took him for granted, and he got tired.

“Are you okay?” Nayeon materializes by your side, her hand on your arm steering your eyes back to her.

“He can do whatever he wants! I really don’t care.” Seeing how they can always tell what’s going on with you, of course they read through the lines.

The other two girls you came with look confused before they dare to speak up.

“We tried telling her that he was off limits," One says as the other confesses, “We thought you two were together.”

The girls’ confusion only fuels yours. You really didn’t want to think about it further before, just in case, but it gets you wondering. “W—why would you think that?”

“We just saw you talking after you presented," The blonde one giggles before her friend adds. “You guys looked cute!”

How did they get to that conclusion after the simplest interaction? Were you that obviously nervous? Was the prickling of your skin visible when he stood too close by your side? It’s become the norm for you two to act this way, the invisible skinship boundary long broken.

Deep down, you know there’s no reason to doubt him. You want to be weary of him, find one single flaw to use as an excuse to not like him, but it’s pointless. Mingyu’s never proven to be anything other than supportive. He’s been so patient with you, the deeper feelings for him developed almost on their own. No warning.

Even before breaking up with Jungkook, Mingyu was always present. Since that first day he found you crying, he made sure you had company, made sure you didn’t get too in your head and helped you have a good time. He was there for you before you even realized you needed it.

You took him for granted for too long, and now he has a pretty girl in front of him showing clear signs of attraction, all while you get scared texting him.

You've been so stupid, so blind to what you had in front of you, that now you're losing it, seeing it disappearing from your life with your own eyes.

The charged stares you've been sparing them must've made their way into Mingyu’s sixth sense, because he finally unglues his eyes from the girl and connects them with yours. You know you have no right to be jealous, you two are nothing, just two people with a very complicated relationship.

As if he knew everything going through your mind, Mingyu smirks your way. He fucking smirks. The twist of his lips cause a chain reaction from your hanging jaw down to your insides becoming a roller coaster. You barely hear your friends saying they’re going to the restroom, choosing to stay and challenge Mingyu.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

When he got your text inviting him out, Mingyu was sitting on the couch that had seen it all happen. Jungkook, just beside him, easily took a peek at the notification that lit up his friend's mood.

“Is that her?”

Even if they’ve resolved the bad blood between them, Mingyu couldn’t help to hide the reality of his feelings from Jungkook. “Yeah," He told him after replying to your text.

Mingyu could count with one hand the few times you had dared to text him first these past few weeks. Seeing your name pop up, inviting him out, was thrilling.

It's been no secret that every time Mingyu disappeared to go somewhere unannounced, he was going with you. Jungkook knew it, but it was time he encouraged it.

“Dude, if you like each other, I'm not looking to get in between," Jungkook assured with his eyes back to the tv in front of them.

“Isn’t it weird?” Mingyu tested the waters, checking if he was hallucinating the support.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird," Jungkook shrugged, as if it were that simple.

The situation is weird. And maybe it will always be weird.

Mingyu started making up this fantasy in his head, where, in the future, you’ve finally let him in and he can love you the way you deserve. One where you can look back at the past and laugh with that blinding toothy smile of yours, with all the hurt being just a distant memory. But before you two get to that point, Mingyu will make sure nothing gets in the way of your happiness ever again. And he foolishly hopes you find it with him.

“Is she okay?” Jungkook’s question took Mingyu out of his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking if I should apologize or not.”

“She’s fine,” at that moment, Mingyu realized that maybe his best friend is better at hiding how he feels than he thought, “but an apology wouldn’t hurt.”

Having long conversations was never their strong suit, so the topic ended there, with Jungkook deep in thought and Mingyu getting up to change clothes.

Something drove him to try and be more presentable for you. The last time you two went to a club together, he almost gave up everything right then and there. Now that there are no barriers between the two of you, he won’t hold back at your advances, he won’t freeze if you dance close to him. At least that was his initial goal.

When he arrived at the club, Mingyu had to pause as soon as he saw you across the room. The smile you showed your friend after something she said illuminated the whole room, leaving nothing else in front of his eyes but you.

He greeted all your friends as politely as he could without straying his eyes off you. His hand traveled itself onto the small of your back, keeping you intoxicatingly close to him as best he could. And he didn’t want to leave your side, but maybe breathing an air free of your perfume would help him think clearly, he thought.

Talking to one of the girls you were with, Mingyu partly feels bad for already forgetting her name. The overworked bartender’s taking too long to prepare all the drinks, and he has no other choice than to entertain the girl.

Answering her questions gets harder and harder with the music blasting, and as she places her hand on his arm to get closer to him, Mingyu can feel the interaction being under someone’s scrutinizing eyes.

Is this all in his head? Are you really standing with your arms crossed and the cutest frown ever on your forehead, almost killing the girl in front of him with your stare? The corner of his mouth lifts autonomously at the thought of you not liking him flirting with another person.

He hasn’t seen this side of you, the jealous and slightly possessive one. And even if you’re nothing more than friends, he loves it. He loves the way you squint when you lock eyes, how you shrug when he doesn’t back down. It’s easy for him to excuse himself and walk towards you again.

At the sight of him, you turn your back on Mingyu, pretending to be dancing alone. So, he has no other choice but to stand behind you and ask in your ear. “Something on your mind?”

Your back tenses against his chest, but you don’t move away, allowing Mingyu to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you close. With your friends suddenly nowhere in sight, he interlocks your fingers while in his hold, helping you relax even if you’re still pretending to be mad.

“You took your time.” The initially suffocating sea of people now feels protective, working like a barrier between your bodies pressed tightly together and the outside world. “Having fun?”

“I am now," Mingyu’s lips graze the side of your face as they lit up in another smirk, growing goosebumps all across your body. “How about you?”

Somehow, being like this doesn’t feel weird. You’ve had Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you so many times now that they easily mold to your figure. There really is only one difference, one that none of you dare speak up but washes over your every interaction.

“I was thinking of going home already.” You look down at your hands tangled in one, fearing that Mingyu can notice at any time how butterflies erupt in your stomach at every word he purrs right in your ear. “Not much to do here.”

“I can take you," His choice of words halts your breath, but you remember.

Untangling Mingyu’s hands from yours, you turn around in his arms to face him, regretting instantly as soon as your eyes connect again.

“You should stay. You looked like you were having fun.” That makes Mingyu chuckle, and an embarrassed warmness bursts inside you at the sound.

“I didn’t think you were the jealous type, princess.” And you didn’t think he was the type to tease you in public, but life takes you to unthinkable roads sometimes.

You scoff as an excuse to take your eyes off him for a second. “Jealous, huh? You’re funny.”

In an intent to get away from his menacingly broad body, your hands take the unconscious decision to push his chest away. But you don’t have the true will to do it, or the strength. He’s too big, too muscly for you to move, and he traps your hands against him, against the sheerest shirt ever that lets you feel every muscle tense under your touch.

“I’d like to think I can make a girl laugh sometimes.” He’s all you can see, covering every spot in your vision with his unerasable teasing smirk.

“Yeah, I saw that.” At the roll of your eyes, there’s no denying that you’re jealous anymore. Do you really care if he knows anyway?

“Oh, you did? Controlling.”

“I’m not controlling! You can do whatever you want, I won’t get in your way.” If he wants to flirt with an emotionally available girl after the infinite amount of time he waited for you, you can’t stop him. You’ll take your feelings to the grave.

Something brews in Mingyu’s mind at your rebuttal. “You won’t?”

“No.”

For the first time in forever, Mingyu willingly unclasps one of his hands from yours, “And if I do this?”

Mingyu’s fingers creep up your neck and get a hold of your chin, titling it up until you have no other choice but to look him in the eye. He waits for your answer, as if you’d ever say no. As soon as you nod, giving him the okay, another smirk is the only warning you get.

Your lips, meant to be pressed against his forever, part with a sigh as Mingyu's arms wrap around your waist. The world around you, with frantic music and people moving at lightspeed, fades to nothing in his embrace. You move along Mingyu’s soft lips naturally, letting your heart convey your feelings through the kiss.

The memory of that last kiss you dared give him all those days ago can’t compare to this one. There’s no hesitation this time, no guilt restraining you from following your true desire. Nothing outside your bubble really matters as your hands travel up his chest to keep his head in place.

His hair feels soft between your fingers as you push yourselves together closer and closer. You never want anything else in life, just kissing and kissing Mingyu until your lungs give out. It’s unfortunate that you can’t.

“Let me take you home," He gasps with your lips just millimeters away.

Your stomach twists and turns with anticipation. “Okay,” barely a whisper accompanies your nod, fearing the way your voice could come out if you said more.

With his hand in yours, walking the moonlit streets in swift steps and giggles, any worries you had slip away with the wind. The feeling of his lips linger on yours every second it passes, every breath you take, every step forward until you stop at an intersection and Mingyu pulls you into him again.

The walk blends between kisses and hand squeezes to check if you’re in a dream or not. You never want to back away from his hold ever again, but as your building materializes in front of you, you're forced to take your hand off the hem of his shirt.

The elevator’s wall hits your back as soon as the automatic doors let you in, barely giving you time to push your floor’s button before Mingyu’s over you again. His mouth takes yours with a hunger that grows every second you’re not inside your apartment. He’s losing control, succumbing to his desires the more you show your want for him.

By some way, your tangled bodies manage to reach your door, though Mingyu’s hands refusing to stop going over your hips and waist are the challenge to overcome. Your fingers tremble trying to turn the key the right way, your nervous system focusing on the lips kissing every inch of the side of your neck he can reach and his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your top.

As soon as you close the door behind you, the reality closes in on you. With Mingyu’s arms wrapping around your waist again, the bag you forgot you were holding dropping onto the floor with a thud, and the bright lights in your apartment making everything clear.

Mingyu notices your sudden hesitation and stands before you, worried eyes studying you, looking for any sign to tell him what's happening in your mind.

“I made you get in a fight with your best friend," Your reminder is like a dagger against the silence.

“Is that what's bothering you?” His eyes find yours and understand immediately. “We're fine,” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “he actually encouraged me to come tonight.”

Your eyes widen with hope, leaning into his touch when he doesn't retrieve his hand from the side of your face. “Did you guys—”

“We talked,” Mingyu's voice explains so softly, one wouldn't think he was just making you gasp with that same mouth on yours, “and I told him he should apologize to you.”

Standing in the middle of your entrance hallway, you feel stupid for even bringing that up. He wouldn't be here with you if he felt guilty. He wouldn't be cupping your face in his hands, making you look up to him to find the glimmer in his eyes outshining every light source in the room.

“And you’re sure about this?” What ‘this’ means, you’re not sure either.

“I've never been more sure about anything.” Your breath hitches at his answer, your body noticeably frozen as you look for a non-existent lie in his eyes. “Maybe we should take things slow, let you figure out what you want.”

Before he can back away from your personal space, you react. “No, no, I want this too. I want you.”

Those words coming out of your mouth combined with your hands gripping his shirt to keep him in place quickly make Mingyu regret his previous statement. You're so close, too close to him, saying you want him with your eyes dark and wide.

Mingyu’s hands stay on you, caressing the side of your face as if he was debating whether to give in and kiss you again or do the rational thing. Yours, instead, find the first button at the end of the all too well fitting shirt Mingyu’s wearing, and start unbuttoning it one by one.

“I should take you out on a real date first," Mingyu maintains with a sigh, but not stopping you in your quest.

“I personally think,” at his unmoving body, you take a step closer, with your hands against his chest not daring to sneak under the welcoming fabric, “we’re past that, don’t you think?”

For a second, Mingyu thinks you’ll be able to feel the rapid beating of his heart, stronger with each second your hands lay on his chest. Rationality is losing the fight against his desire.

“Just making sure this isn’t a rebound situation,” Mingyu blurts, even if he doesn’t really care about it for himself. He’d take whatever you give him.

“You aren’t a rebound. This isn’t a revenge plot.” You think for a second before you continue, “You saw me cry way too many times and were there for me at my weakest. You make me feel seen, wanted, and getting to know you has made my life better in ways I could’ve never imagined.”

Your words go through Mingyu's ears and right into his bloodstream, getting warmer and warmer the closer you get. His hands go down your body, encouraging you to move forward until your chests touch.

“I needed you even before I knew what I needed.” You can sense the tears beginning to build up, but you push through. He has to know. “I know what I want now, and it’s you.”

“If this is a dream, I never wanna wake up,” every word Mingyu says comes with a widening smile.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck with confidence, “I can assure you, it's not.”

As if you've been getting chased by your feelings all this time, putting it into words and letting it all out works, and your brain stops racing. You can finally breathe, think, see.

“So, was that a no about the date?” As always, Mingyu manages to make you chuckle again, and it reverberates all across both your bodies. Every shiver of his, you feel, with the minimal skin to skin contact against his barely uncovered chest and the tiniest top you found to put on.

“You can take me on a date another day. Now, I want something else.” You don't know where all this confidence is coming from, but seeing the shock in Mingyu's eyes, it only grows. “You okay with that?”

“I’ll give you anything you want.”

The space between your faces charges with electricity as you take in his words. An unconscious bite on your lower lip pulls his gaze down, egging him to close the space slowly. You almost don’t register his advance, focusing on the part of his lips that were just on yours minutes ago.

There’s nothing more to be said, no invisible walls to tear down, only you and him and the pull between you, pushing you closer until your breaths mix. After all the obstacles you overcame, and the bumps that lead you to where you are now, there’s no more time to waste.

When your heads meet again, your tingling lips mold against Mingyu’s for the thousandth time, worried about nothing and wanting it all. And he doesn’t hold back either. His hands on your waist venture up inside your top, feeling your back tense at his touch as the fabric crumples up, leaving more of you exposed to him.

You can’t hide your craving for him any longer. You follow his rhythm eagerly, making a mess of his hair between your fingers and pushing him further against you. Every touch of his makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your jaw and neck. His hands and lips everywhere.

“Might as well just take this off.” Mingyu’s lips print a smirk on the sensitive skin of your neck before pulling back. You get what he means immediately as he tugs on your top, taking it off you as soon as you put your arms up.

His hands feel your chest up to his liking, getting to know the places that make you sigh into his mouth. Every touch of his fingers makes that spot light up like fire, and every sound you make encourages Mingyu more and more.

Your hands sneak under his opened shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest directly elicits a groan from Mingyu, making you shiver as you slip the fabric down his arms.

Your living room becomes a cliché mess of scattered clothing before you direct the both of you to your bedroom. You barely have time to drink in Mingyu’s body before you’re falling with your back on the mattress, chest to chest again, bare against one another, free of any fabric in between.

Mingyu slots between your legs effortlessly, a low moan coming from him as his hardening length grinds softly on the crevice between your limbs. His golden skin that was the star of your every dream, finally at your reach, soft and warm under the pads of your fingers.

“Gyu—” Words choke up on your throat as you feel his lips wrapping around one of your nipples.

“You're gorgeous,” His lips against your chest makes you halt your movements, mind focused solely on him, “so pretty, only for me.”

It's almost as if he was talking to himself, but you moan at every compliment, arching your back for more of him. And he loves it. Loves the way you react to the stream of thoughts that run around his brain every time he looks at you.

“Fuck!” The curse leaves you both in unison when Mingyu finds his digits against your core.

“I barely even touched you and you're already ready for me?” Mingyu feels your reaction to his words first hand as a wave of arousal hits you.

“Fuck you,” you gasp and he chuckles, kissing down your torso until he’s facing your core.

“I'll take care of you, don't worry, baby.” His breath fans at your wet folds, so close to where you want him but still teasing you with his fingers.

You’re about to fight back when you feel him teasing at your opening, his eyes entranced by how ready you are for him. All the anticipation, the tension between you from the past weeks, culminating at once at this very moment.

The slickness leaking out of you from all the kissing and groping makes it easy for him to set the pace. Mingyu’s fingers stretch your insides with expertise, as if he learned every spot of yours to touch to have you squirming.

The torturously slow thrusts of his fingers drive you crazy, curling and hitting exactly where you need them before he’s pulling back. You don’t hold your sounds back, your every reaction letting Mingyu know how good he makes you feel.

“That’s it, baby,” His low voice sets fire to the blood rushing through your veins, and your walls clamp harder around his fingers.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the sheets below you, and Mingyu’s other hand has to hold your thighs apart so you don’t close them around his head.

“Mingyu—shit!” His lips leave a trail of breathy kisses on your inner thigh, trying to help you relax and take him in, but ultimately turning you on further. “Gyu, wait.”

“I love that you’re calling me that.” He listens and stops thrusting, leaving his fingers to fully fit inside you.

“I need you.” You’re not embarrassed to say what you want. Not with him.

“But you have me?” He tries to tease, but you’re ahead of him already and immediately correct yourself.

“Inside.” His fingers adjust themselves inside you, almost making you forget what you were asking for. “I need you to fuck me.”

Mingyu chuckles at your neediness, but you know he wants it just as bad. His rock hard length draws your attention as he stands up and retrieves his wet digits from you, leaking and ready to split you in half.

There’s a second of hesitation as he looks at you splayed on the bed, as ready for him as he is for you. You recognize the train of thought going through him and stretch your arm to open the drawer below your nightstand, where you keep condoms just in case.

It’s sinful, the sight of Mingyu rolling down the condom as his eyes rake up and down your body. When he kneels on the mattress, fitting like a glove between your legs, it takes another kiss of his on each of your spent legs for you to realize that what’s happening is real.

Caged between both of his arms, his hands holding his weight on both sides of your head, your legs wrap around his waist and push him inside you, at last.

His length fits inside you, opening up your walls to mold to his shape as you both moan.

Your hips collide as he hits your deepest parts. “Being inside you is gonna kill me.” You can feel the twitching of his cock deep inside you. He paused to let you get used to his size, but the last thing you want to do is wait.

“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t move.”

You’ve learned teasing him works wonders, and as soon as those words leave your lips, he’s complying with what you ask of him. “Whatever my princess wants.”

Whatever thoughts you had, they fade at the drag of his length deliciously making you his with each thrust. Deep and slow, he lets you feel everything he has to give before almost pulling out.

The skin of his back becomes the victim of your scratches, your nails digging into his tense muscles with every grind of his hips. But no matter what you do, how you touch him, how loudly you moan, his pace remains at the same torturing speed.

“Relax, baby.” A hand caresses the side of your face, and you realize you’d shut your eyes closed at the feeling of him pushing inside you.

Mingyu lowers his head, flushing your chests together again as he kisses you softly, matching the pace of his thrusts with his tongue tangling with yours. He drinks every sound you make, as they are only for him, and lowers his hand down your torso until it meets your connected cores.

Your sensitive clit feels like fire under the touch of his fingers, circling around it to help you ease up the tension. “That’s it, baby, taking me so well.”

Everywhere he reaches becomes your new favorite place for him to touch. From your lips, down to your cunt, and all the way inside you, everywhere now has his name written. You’re his.

The pulsing of your walls around him doesn’t cease, becoming quicker and harder the more he continues with the slow pace. Your insides wait for every intoxicating thrust as if starved of him, craving everything he gives you and more.

His lips move on yours, parted and unable to work, mumbling praise you don’t get to hear as every one of your senses focuses on the fire inside you threatening to burst. Mingyu’s hips falter, having trouble thrusting inside you as you tighten impossibly tighter around him.

Your vision turns white as your orgasm explodes without so much as a warning. Your legs tremble around Mingyu’s pistoning hips, thrusting endlessly searching for his release.

Mingyu’s broad body falls limp on you as his length twitches, coming inside the condom with a groan while your walls hug him tight.

You lay under him happily, a smile on your face as you stare at the ceiling. He feels warm all around you, a feeling you could get used to. Mingyu can’t resist it and kisses you again. He’ll take every opportunity he can get to feel your lips on his.

“What's on your mind?” He asks, eyes locking in to yours as he slips out from you before attacking your lips again.

You both smile in the kiss before he stands up to discard the used condom and put his boxers back on. “Just thinking where you can take me on our date.”

He turns around with a glowing smile. “You’re thinking about that already?”

The way he lays down on your bed with you, naturally wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to him, feels like a dream come true.

“Of course, baby, I always think ahead.” You note the way he blushes when you use that nickname on him and snuggle against him.

Listening to Mingyu’s steady breathing and heartbeat under your ear, drifting to sleep has never been easier.

The smell of freshly grounded coffee fills the air around the café Mingyu picked. A cozy new place, lighted with yellowy light bulbs and with a space designated to read books you can borrow from the shelves covering the walls. It opened a few weeks ago in his neighborhood and he’s been insisting you try it out together since.

You’ve been on countless dates with him already, but you still feel nervous having him sit by your side in the booth. Still get embarrassed when he asks for a big smoothie with two straws for you both.

You don’t see a future where you don’t get nervous around him, but he’s always there. A future without him wouldn’t be life at all. And the best thing is, Mingyu feels the same way.

“Are you sure they’re coming?” You ask as your eyes drift to the glass door for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

“I promise they are!” Minguy takes your jaw in his fingers to make you look at him. “Remember to not say anything about the apartment. He'll as her when he's ready”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, feigning cluelessness, and Mingyu chuckles before giving you a peck.

Detaching your lips is always the hardest chore. But after a few awkward instances where you let your kisses deepen in public, you both decided to control yourselves, even in a secluded booth like the one you’re currently in.

Mingyu’s eyes light up watching the street from the window you’re sitting against, and you turn around to see the people you’ve been waiting for.

Jungkook and Cathlyn walk inside the store holding hands and with matching smiles on their faces as they greet you. How Mingyu convinced them to go out on a double date with you still astonishes you, but you’re glad everything that happened could finally be put behind you.

It was hard at first, even after Jungkook apologized to you, you didn’t dare go inside their apartment for months until Mingyu moved in with you a few weeks ago.

As soon as they sit in front of you, the plan you’ve been scheming starts. Your eyes lock with Mingyu’s and he instantly realizes what you're about to do, but not even his hand squeezing your thigh under the table can stop you. “So, Jungkook, what are you going to do now that you live in the apartment alone?”

note: it's finally here!!!

thank you all for being so excited this past month and for reading this monster of a fic i somehow came up with.

if you reached the end, just know that i love you, and i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

#mingyu #svt

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whore-anghaereads · 4 months ago

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I lately jinyoung has been making me feral with his fucking heogo shirt. This has helped.

Seeing White / Jinyoung x Reader (SMUT)

Read PART ONE of this reaction HERE

Burning touches all throughout the business meeting – because you needed to prove (to each other?) that you were married – escalate as soon as you and Jinyoung leave the restaurant.

Pairing: mafia au!Jinyoung x Reader

Warnings: strong language, rude jinyoung & smut (unprotected car sex y’all, stay safe)

Words: 6.1k

there were so many things that made me post this so late and I am so SO sorry for taking so long to write this. i hope you enjoy!

Request by anon: could you possibly do a part 2 on mafia Jinyoung? oh and i forgot, yes I would like mafia jinyoung pt 2 smutty but romantic haha x

By @kpopgrrl09: Hey girl! I’m requesting a continuation of chapters for the hyung line of GOT7 MAFIA AU collection its just all too good and i need more to read!

Request by @shineetrash247: But can you maybe right a smuttish second part for Jinyoung’s mafia au.Like a small one.Please.Pretty please

Keep reading

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whore-anghaereads · 6 months ago

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Lmao so greedy ole me thought this meant all 4 of them fk 🙃. ANYWAY it is 2:36 am!!! and I saw this pop up on my feed and i said ‘oh fuck’ bc 13k ~ johnny, jae, and hyuck. I have to read this. Immediately!

Ok but honestly not over blue collar johnny, like i want this man in backwards caps and overalls and rolled up flannel, dirty steel toes and dickies.

Sooo hot and as always your characterizations always feel so genuine

apartment complex

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader I ft. Haechan & Jaehyun

🔮 preview. So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, pent-up sexual tension, shower sex, masturbation, fingering, hand job, thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, breast worship/nipple play, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, size kink (Johnny is big and a slight manhandler), mentions of aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) 304, baby, princess.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.3k

🍭 aus. Love square, slice of life, neighbours to lovers, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. So when Johnny calls her the nickname ‘304,’ we’re not doing full numbers, it’s ‘three-oh-four’ which I actually think is kind of cute haha

One:

You feel like an absolute mess. Your hair is all over the place, you’re in a full sweats ensemble that is - true to its name - making you perspire like nothing else as you lug boxes upon boxes of your stuff into your building and up to your new apartment.

To make matters worse, you’re exhausted. Moving days have this absolutely draining effect, and you can’t wait for the day to be over. You’re not even sure if you’ll unpack anything- maybe you’ll just fish out a towel and some body wash from one of the many crates you have, shower, then collapse onto your mattress- do you even have the energy to set up your bed frame?

You’re busy trying to plan out how you’re going to even accomplish the day, when the elevator doors open, and you find yourself staring up at one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he grins, stepping next to you in the small space. “Moving in?”

You’re so distracted by the way his biceps look in his muscle shirt that it takes you a moment to speak. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Johnny,” he tells you.

“y/n.” The box in your hands is beginning to slip from the sweat on your palms, and you haphazardly readjust it on your hip.

“This might be a little forward,” Johnny chuckles, “but do you need any help?”

“Uh…” You turn once again to look up at this absolute tower of a man. “I’m almost done moving everything-”

“Let me guess, boxes done, just some furniture stuff left?”

You feel your skin flush with heat. “Is it that obvious that I’m struggling right now?” An awkward laugh escapes your lips, and you’re happy to find Johnny return the sound with a soft, understanding smile.

“Usually when cute girls move somewhere, they have a boyfriend, a brother, a dad, a friend- someone to help them do the tough stuff, and since you’re alone, I’m guessing you’re troopering this whole thing out all by yourself.”

“New city,” you explain. “I don’t uh- don’t know anyone here just yet, and my family didn’t want to take time off work to help with any of this.”

“Lucky you bumped into me then,” Johnny grins. “I just finished up at the gym, but I’ve got energy to help a new neighbour.”

The elevator dings to signal you’ve made it to your floor, and Johnny follows you out.

“You’re the new tenant for 304?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, stopping in front of the unit you now call home.

“We really are neighbours,” Johnny laughs. “I’m 306.”

“Look it was nice to meet you,” you say, “but you really don’t need to help, I’m sure I can manage my bed and a few other things-”

“y/n,” Johnny interrupts you, “I promise I’m not some creep, just a good neighbour offering help. You look tired, let me help you.”

Your pride makes it difficult to accept this sort of thing, but you swallow it, offering Johnny a nod.

And that’s how you find yourself moving your bed and the last bit of furniture into your new apartment with one of the sexiest guys you’ve ever seen. He’s quite the charmer, and he’s reassuring too- calming you down when things are a little heavy, and slowing his own pace to match your exhaustion.

In no time at all, everything is out of the moving truck, and Johnny leans in your doorway as he watches you slump into a chair.

“Do you want help making your bedframe or anything?” he enquires.

“Honestly? I think I’m going to call it a day,” you admit. “The drive here was long, I’ve been up since five AM, didn’t sleep well last night due to nerves-”

“Sounds like you should get some rest,” Johnny nods.

“I really appreciate your help though,” you offer. “I’ll uh, have to buy you beers or something.”

Johnny only laughs. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I work on a rig, so I’m only here a week or so every month, you caught me at a good time.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the disappointment that surges through you. Of course this man was too hot to be true- of course he has a job that requires him to be away for long periods or he’d probably have an equally hot girlfriend already.

“But… let me give you my number, and if you ever need anything while I am here, you can just give me a shout.”

The two of you exchange digits, and with one final smile, Johnny leaves you be.

You lay on your bed for a while, trying to calm down- from the moving, or from being around a ten out of ten, you’re not sure.

Two:

It’s your first time doing laundry in the new building, and to your disappointment, you find the shared laundry room to have no available machines.

A sigh escapes you as you stand there momentarily, wondering if you should wait five minutes for a turn over, or just scratch this whole idea and hope there are empty machines tomorrow.

As you’re considering your options, the laundry room door opens, and a tall blonde enters.

“Hi,” he beams.

“Hello.” You watch him carefully, noticing that he heads to a machine to take out his clothes from the washer. “Uh- do you mind if I put my stuff in there once it’s empty?”

“Of course not,” he smiles. “With only six machines for the whole building, it can be a bit rough trying to nab one on busy days.”

“I’ve noticed,” you laugh. “I’m new here, my name is y/n.”

“I’m Jungwoo,” he tells you, moving his clothing into the only empty dryer. He turns on the machine and then steps back, looking over at you again. “So are you new to the building or new to the city?”

“The city,” you admit, beginning to move your stuff into the now empty washer.

“You have that look.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just- a lot of people here are boring, we’re not exactly known for fashion or anything like that-”

You look down at the Stitch onesie you’re wearing that you’d bought for Halloween a few years back but has since become a comfort outfit, then back up at the blonde.

“I just like your style!” he insists. “Not everyone can rock blue pajamas!”

You find yourself laughing at his sincerity, shaking your head as you grab your washer fluid to get the machine going.

“Anyways,” Jungwoo sighs. “Did you move here for work?”

“I actually work online,” you tell him. “I can work from anywhere, and I figured this would be a nice place to get out of the big city for a while- cheaper rent, more nature, that sort of thing.”

“Makes sense,” Jungwoo nods. “I’m a server at a bar just down the road.”

You take a moment, then laugh. “You seem like a server.”

“Because I’m so cute and social?” he grins.

“Definitely,” you nod, enjoying his energy.

“Anyways, I love making friends, and since you’re new to the city, I’m guessing you haven’t met a lot of people yet. If you want to be friends, I’d love to add you to my gossip roster.”

“Your gossip roster?”

“I’m a server, which means I love all things tea- except for when grandmas order actual tea in the middle of a rush, that’s the worst.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” you grin.

“So… friends?” Jungwoo asks.

You nod. “We can be friends.”

Three:

It’s been three weeks since you moved into your new apartment, and in that time, you’ve gotten settled, and even visited Jungwoo at his bar. He’s an interesting friend, and he seems to know everything about everyone.

At first, you’d been worried about any ulterior motives he might have, as you’ve experienced many men try to make a move on you under the guise of just wanting to be your friend. But now, you realize Jungwoo’s intentions towards you are pure- or, as pure as they can be given how much gossip he consumes.

You get the sense that you’re not his type, and that’s a hundred percent okay with you, in fact, it’s a dynamic that makes you finally feel comfortable accepting an invitation to visit his apartment.

It seems all the attractive men in your building live on your floor, and as you enter his unit, you find yet another cute man standing in the kitchen.

“This is Mark,” Jungwoo introduces you. “Mark, this is y/n. Don’t worry, Lee, I’ve told her everything about you.”

“Oh, great,” Mark sighs.

It’s true, Jungwoo has divulged way too deep into his roommate’s history. You know that he’s a content creator and chef, he used to work in a prestigious restaurant, went on one of those reality cooking shows, managed to be the runner up for the first place prize despite his awkward nature, and has now been commissioned to write a cookbook focused solely on burgers (which Jungwoo has assured you is actually a broad topic despite what you might think).

You also know that Mark has a limited dating history, with a high school sweetheart who left him right before his stint on live tv, and a new crush on some barista that he’s too shy to even talk to despite the fact that he goes to her coffee shop every day just to order frothed milk with vanilla since caffeine doesn’t agree with him.

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Jungwoo asks, coming to stand right behind Mark in the kitchen.

From the way Mark clears his throat and steps back, it’s obvious to you that he’s not as comfortable about being close to people as Jungwoo is, and you find yourself enjoying this roommate dynamic already.

“I’m actually testing some stupid protein burger for muscle heads,” Mark admits.

“Aren’t burgers already high in protein since they’re meat?” you ask.

“Yes, and no,” Mark groans, “it depends. I want to have a few vegetarian and even vegan options in the cookbook I’m writing on burgers- and lots of people want high protein even in their plant based meals.”

“So… what are your options for this burger you’re trying to create?” you enquire.

“I’ve tried some black bean patties, chickpea patties, that sort of thing- but I’m considering making an entire two page fold dedicated to dredges and batters that you could use on a variety of burgers, meat or vegetarian. I got everything to make a protein powder infused batter, but I’m just now realizing that the protein powder I have on hand is chocolate flavoured, which really won’t work if I put it on anything, let alone a tofu burger.”

“Call Jae,” Jungwoo says simply. “That man has a collection of protein powder that would make a man on steroids combust.”

“Maybe I should just run to the store,” Mark sighs.

“You only need a small scoop of powder, right?” Jungwoo counters. “Why would you go buy an entire plain jug of protein powder when a protein head lives next door?”

“I’d hate to bother him,” the chef groans again, and you find yourself starting to realize the true depth of his social anxiety.

“I’ll call Jaehyun,” Jungwoo states, pulling out his phone.

You take a seat at the island counter while Jungwoo makes a deal for some powder with this ‘Jae’ person, and you watch Mark fuss over other ingredients that he adds to a dry mixing bowl.

There’s a knock at the door, and then a man peaks his head inside of the apartment.

Your eyes lock and the wind is knocked from your lungs- is every hot man in the city living in your building?

“Jae!” Jungwoo yells, “come in!”

The man steps into the apartment, offering a smile, and the dimples in his cheeks practically blind you. There’s no way around it, this man looks like a model. He’s handsome, but there’s a slightly feminine softness to the angles of his face, a warmth in his eyes, and it’s absolutely captivating.

“Am I interrupting?” Jae asks as he approaches the kitchen, his eyes continuously meeting your own.

“Not at all, Mark’s just floundering as usual, and I’m hanging out with my new friend. y/n, this is Jaehyun, Jaehyun, this is y/n.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile.

“You too.” Jaehyun sets a tub of protein powder onto the kitchen counter next to Mark, then he turns his full attention to you again. “So how did you meet Jungwoo?”

“In the laundry room,” Jungwoo is quick to explain, and you don’t miss the exchange of glances between Jaehyun and your friend. “She’s new to the building.” Jungwoo practically winks at Jaehyun, and you get the suspicion that he’s trying to set you up with this model looking protein man.

“I love meeting new neighbours,” Jaehyun says smoothly. “What floor are you on?”

“This one, room 304.”

“No way.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “That’s right across from mine!”

“You’re 305?” you ask, heart beating faster in your chest.

“In the flesh,” Jaehyun grins.

“Can we move the talking somewhere else?” Mark asks quietly. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The energy fizzles immediately, and Jaehyun nods. “I was actually just heading to the gym.”

“Of course you were,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes.

“But uh, I’ll see you around,” Jaehyun says, looking at you directly. “Welcome to the building.”

Four:

You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked when meeting cute men in your apartment building anymore, but you still find your breath leaving your body when you’re bringing groceries up from the parking garage only for a very cute man to enter the elevator.

He steps in and flashes you a smirk, then looks at the floor buttons. “You’re headed to three?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you new?”

“Been here about a month.”

“Huh,” the man looks stumped for a moment. “I feel like I would have seen you. I’m Hyuck by the way.”

“y/n.”

Hyuck nods. “Are you liking the building?”

“It’s nice,” you muse, too tired from your day at the grocery store to make much smalltalk.

“You must be… unit 304? I’m a couple of doors down, near the corner. I know someone moved out, and I heard from the building manager that someone was moving in, but fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t met you yet.”

“I can be kind of reclusive,” you joke. “I mean, I work from home.”

“Ahhh, you’re one of those girls.” Hyuck grins at you knowingly and your heart leaps into your throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just, you know, sometimes the cutest girls are the ones that stay in their house all day.”

“Oh.” You’re really not sure how to respond to his statement, and your eyes shift down to the floor as the elevator comes to a stop.

The two of you both turn to the left, and Hyuck walks in step with you to your door, where he stops. “What’s that?”

You’re confused for a moment, too busy fumbling with your keys, but when you look up, you realize there’s a sticky note on your door.

“Looks like you already have an admirer,” Hyuck grins. “Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime,” he reads. “Who do you think left this?”

You’re pretty sure it was Jaehyun who left the note- after all, the only other people you know are Jungwoo and Johnny, who both have your number, and you doubt Mark Lee of all people would be this forward.

“I uh-” you stutter a little, swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure.”

“So are you single, or…?”

“Definitely single,” you blurt out, pushing your key into the door and clicking it unlocked.

“Definitely single,” Hyuck repeats as you push into your apartment, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Five:

You’re finishing up after dinner when your phone makes a beeping sound, and you quickly pick it up, surprised to see a message from Johnny.

‘Looks like you’ve got some secret admirers, 304.’

Your stomach drops, and you realize that in your haste to enter your apartment after finding Jaehyun’s note with Hyuck earlier, you hadn’t actually removed it from your door- but wait, admirers? As in… plural?

Tripping over yourself to get to the door, you throw it open to find not one sticky note, but two.

While Jaehyun’s initial ‘Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime’ is still there, someone has taken the liberty to put a second note on top of it, and this one reads; ‘I’m more fun, let’s have drinks.’

It’s clear who the second note is from, and you’re quick to rip both off of your door.

Jaehyun and Hyuck are both quite forward, and your heart is racing as you go sit on your couch, feeling conflicted.

You pull out your phone again, releasing a deep sigh as you write up a text to Johnny. ‘This apartment building is so weird.’

‘Boys will be boys,’ comes his quick response.

Taking another breath to calm yourself, you look at the texts, and that’s when you realize, ‘I didn’t know you were back from the rigs.’

‘Got back a couple of days ago :)’

Tapping your fingers against your couch, you try to figure out how you should play this.

You’re most attracted to Johnny, but now that Jaehyun and Hyuck are so clearly demonstrating their blooming affection for you - out in the open where everyone on your floor can see - you wonder if that might throw a wrench at Johnny’s own feelings for you…

Does Johnny like you?

When he’d helped you move your things, was that just him genuinely being nice?

You feel absolutely twisted, especially since you’ve never considered yourself the type of girl to entertain a long distance relationship…

‘So… you’re in town for a few more days?’

‘three!’

You definitely need to sort out your priorities.

Six:

You’re in need of a drink as you walk into Jungwoo’s work, taking a seat at the bar and releasing a deep sigh.

“For a girl who came to happy hour, you don’t look too happy,” Jungwoo muses as he moves to stand in front of you.

“Is it that obvious?” you laugh.

“I mean… you’re the hot new girl in 304 who has two guys fighting over you in sticky notes, I’d expect you to be a little more up beat.”

“You saw that?” you ask in shock.

“Everyone saw it. Whoever left those notes weren’t exactly subtle… who did leave those notes, by the way?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head at your friend’s need for gossip. “You know one of them at least.”

“Jae, I’m guessing,” Jungwoo nods. “He asked me for your number but since I’m your friend I’m not just out here handing around your personal information.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And guy number two?” he enquires.

“Some dude named Hyuck.”

An interesting expression immediately appears on Jungwoo’s face. It’s something between an ‘oooooh!’ and an ‘ooop!’ and you can’t quite place the emotion.

“What?” you ask, leaning forward. “You know him?”

“Everyone knows Hyuck.”

“They do?”

“Let’s just say…” Jungwoo’s voice lowers as he leans over the bar, “he’s a provider of things that a lot of people like to get their hands on.”

“Huh?”

“A plug, there, you tortured it out of me, Hyuck is a plug,” Jungwoo throws his hands up as if you just twisted his arm for the information, and you stare at him blankly.

“A plug,” you repeat.

“You can’t be that innocent, babes, you know what I mean.”

You sit back in your chair, thinking it through.

So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess?

“Where did you even meet Hyuck?” Jungwoo asks.

“In the elevator?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” your friend laughs.

“I don’t know! God, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“There are worse things to be overwhelmed about, I mean… tax season is coming soon, and I don’t know how much fraud I should commit with my tips.”

You can’t help but laugh at Jungwoo, and he’s succeeded in using humour to calm you down.

He’s grinning at you, and he taps his hand onto the bar top. “Let me make you a drink, on me, but you’ll be paying me with gossip, deal?”

“Deal.”

You trust Jungwoo to make you drinks by now, and he doesn’t ask what you want, he simply begins to mix a fruity concoction together. Soon, he’s setting it down in front of you and you’re taking a large gulp.

“So…” he grins. “Hyuck or Jae?”

“Are those my only options?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen. “Spill the tea.”

“I just… I met this guy Johnny when I moved in-”

“Johnny as in super tall, blue collar, muscle man, Johnny?”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh.

“And you met him the first day you moved in?”

“He actually helped me with boxes and furniture.”

Jungwoo lets out a whistle. “Now I see why you’re overwhelmed.”

“I guess, I just don’t really know any of these guys too well. I’ve only met all of them once-”

“But you have a favourite,” Jungwoo interjects. “Johnny’s your favourite, despite his fucked up job.”

You sigh. “How could you tell?”

“I watch a lot of reality tv, in shows like Love is Blind or Singles Inferno sometimes a girl has multiple guys going for her, but the first one leaves a mark… it’s not always the case though, but it’s about that initial impact.”

“Impact,” you repeat. “Johnny definitely made an impact… and he saw the notes from Hyuck and Jae.”

“Oooooh,” Jungwoo grins, “scandalous.”

“But he works away for weeks at a time!”

“He’s here now,” Jungwoo points out. “So… go on a date with him, and sort out Hyuck and Jae after.”

“You think so?”

“What could be wrong about it?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Go on a date with Johnny, see how you feel- maybe he does something gross that turns you off and it makes life easier.”

“Or maybe he’s perfect and it makes things even worse,” you sigh.

“You never know until you try. Another thing from my dating shows is that no one wants to live with regrets, and I don’t think you do either.”

Seven:

You’d taken Jungwoo’s advice, and after two drinks at the bar, you’re home, waiting for a knock that sounds on your door.

Taking a deep breath, you fix your outfit, approaching your entry way to find Johnny standing in the hall. He looks all tall and gorgeous, in a similar laid back muscle shirt and sweats combo to the one you’d first seen him in. His hair is a little messy and damp as if he’d just come out of a shower, and the smell of his piney bodywash has you going weak.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi,” you smile back. “Uh, come in.”

Johnny nods, stepping past the threshold. “Are you a shoes off in the house kind of girl?”

“Yes, please.”

You watch him kick off his runners before turning to you. “I’m a little confused.”

“You are?”

“I got your text that you wanted me to come over, and I half expected you needed help building some cabinet or something, but then I remembered you’ve been here a month already, so now I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“I told you I’d buy you a beer for helping me move my stuff, remember?” You let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t have beer, but I did open a bottle of wine.”

“That works,” Johnny grins.

“Come, sit.” You move to your living area, taking a seat on the couch. Johnny joins you, and you note the way he immediately shifts his body to be facing you. He watches you pour him a glass, and you both notice your shaky hand as you pass it to him.

“How much have you been drinking, 304?”

“A bit.”

“Rough day?” he enquires with a smile.

“Just…” you let out a deep breath. “Not used to all the attention I’m getting here.”

“Yeah, your entourage.” Johnny sips his drink, still grinning as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m not the kind of person who loves getting a lot of attention?”

Johnny cocks his head to the side. “I think it’s hard for a girl who looks like you to avoid that sort of thing.”

God, he is into you, you can taste it- or maybe that’s the sweet notes of your wine.

You don’t know what to say, but you feel a grin appear on your face, your eyes shifting down to your glass. “I don’t know about that.”

“Just an observation,” Johnny laughs. “So… what are you going to do about all of this?”

“I think…” you swallow thickly. “I think I’m doing something right now.”

“Yeah?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Yeah.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to be at a loss for words, and you get the sense that this isn’t something that happens very often to him.

“I’m sure you know what it’s like to get a lot of attention,” you offer.

Johnny shrugs. “I’m only in town a week every month, and when I’m here I spend most of my time at the gym or at home. I’ve never been a big party guy, I prefer cheap beer to bars, and I guess I’ve just accepted that a guy like me has to be single.”

“You have to be?” you enquire, cocking your head to the side in a bid to understand him better.

“Most girls aren’t interested in starting anything with a man who works on a rig. I understand the guys who have girls before the job, and they stay after building a foundation, but it’s hard to work on the start of a relationship when you’re not around.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod- in fact, it’s something you’ve considered to great length already. “If… if the right girl came along, would that be something you’re interested in exploring?”

Johnny lets out a deep breath. “That’s a good question.”

You watch him sip his wine, giving him the space to consider it.

“I just… I wouldn’t want a girl to feel like she’s an afterthought, or a fuck buddy- and doing the work I do, I have to be focused. It’s day rate, it’s dangerous, sometimes the rigs are a couple hours away from camp, and that’s on top of a twelve hour shift-” He lets out another deep sigh. “I think it would take a very special, very loyal kind of girl to give me a chance.”

“And what would you say your type is?”

His eyes meet yours. “I love a cute girl next door.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. “Funny, I like a boy next door.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re neighbours.”

Johnny lifts his glass and you clink yours together, giggling.

It’s crazy how things can feel so comfortable with him already- but in the background of your mind there’s a sense of dread looming, after all, he’s leaving in just two or so days.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Of course.”

“I’m sad you’re leaving soon.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” he points out.

“You know what I mean.”

Johnny shifts, resting his arm on the back of your couch. “I have a proposition for you, 304.”

“God, stop calling me 304,” you laugh.

“It feels like we’re interested in each other, but I get the sense you’re unsure about the long distance aspect. What if we hang out tonight, tomorrow I take you on an actual date, and if things go well, we could talk about what communication would look like when I’m away.”

“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I would like that.”

“But… I have on condition.”

“Hit me.”

Johnny is quiet for a moment. “I’m aware that, no matter how good our dates tonight and tomorrow are, me being away might be too much for you. You have two other guys who are interested and they live here, so… even though I’m a cuddly person, I think it’s better for both of us if we keep things PG before I leave, that way… I mean, if you chose one of them because distance is too much, at least things won’t be awkward for us, and we can still be friends.”

“I think…” - as much as you hate the idea and want to climb him like a tree - “I think that might be the most mature way to handle this.”

Johnny nods. “So… what are your thoughts on aliens?”

“Huh?”

“UFO’s, UAP’s, USP’s-”

“What even are all of those?” you laugh.

“Unidentified flying objects, unidentified aerial phenomenon, which is pretty much another term for UFO’s, unidentified submersible phenomenon-”

You shake your head at him in affectionate shock. “Where did you learn all of this?”

“History network,” Johnny grins. “Listen, why would I ask you surface level questions when we can dive into conspiracy theory? UFO’s are a good way to bounce into all sorts of topics, religion, politics, current and historical events-”

He’s a little odd, but you suppose you understand where he’s coming from now. You decide to give up control, and you lean into his question, loving the twists and turns that the conversation takes. You talk about everything, from the moon landing, to ancient monolithic structures and tv shows about space, a discussion about recent alien films leads to an analysis on favourite actors-

Before you even know it, hours have passed, the wine bottle is empty, and you feel as if you know him a lot better than when he’d first entered your apartment.

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.

You sigh, looking at the time. “At nine.”

“I should probably get out of your hair then. When are you off?”

“Fiveish.”

Johnny stands up, stretching, and you can’t help the way your eyes move to the exposed strip of V-line when his shirt rises. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at fiveish, 304.”

You rise to your feet, pleasantly surprised when the gentle giant pulls you in for a hug. God, the feeling of his chest against your cheek- the soft cotton of his muscle shirt and the scent of his cologne- you release a deep breath, fully melting into what must be one of the best hugs of your life.

“I’ll text you,” Johnny says, and as he does so, his lips brush the crown of your head.

He’d said PG, and you suppose this is PG, but fuck, you want more.

Eight:

Out of all the possible date venues, you hadn’t expected bowling. Johnny had told you to dress casually, he’d picked you up, and taken you down to a massive black truck- he’d driven you around town, pointing things out to you, and you’d ended up at a small, underground bowling bar.

He’s a bit of a goof ball, but you can tell he’s got experience playing this game. To compensate for your lack of skills, he does all sorts of trick shots that make him miss points, and you appreciate his effort to not decimate you.

You drink beer and chat and play, and again, it feels so natural with him.

When the game is over, the two of you get in the truck, and Johnny says he wants to show you something. A fifteen minute drive leads you to the edge of town, on a lookout that’s perfect now that it’s dark and the small city’s lights are sparkling.

“Do you take all your dates here?” you tease.

Johnny chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t been on a date in a while?”

“I guess with your job, I would,” you pause, looking over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The large man releases a sigh. “I had a highschool sweetheart,” he starts. “But as time went by, she couldn’t deal with me being a blue collar man. She was very corporate, and our life styles weren’t exactly a match. When she broke up with me, I switched from construction to the rig jobs, figured it would be easier to just put my head down and work. Been doing that for about six years now.”

“So you haven’t dated since highschool?” you ask in shock.

“There’ve been a couple of things here and there. Took a few summers off, had flings, but shit always hit the fan when I went back to work.”

“That makes sense,” you nod.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a family man at heart,” he assures you. “As a supervisor, I definitely make enough money to take care of the people in my life, but it’s always been a time issue.” Johnny takes a breath, and then he meets your gaze. “What about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”

“Had a couple of failed relationships, the last one inspired me to move away from my home city and come here so I guess there’s a silver lining to it. Ended things with my ex about a year ago and nothing really felt the same after that, figured a change of scenery would do me good.”

“And has it? Done you good?”

You look over at the gorgeous man sitting next to you. “Definitely.”

It feels like the perfect moment to kiss him, and you note the way his gaze dips to your lips, but then he pulls back, letting out a sigh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Me!?” You act scandalized.

“Yes, you, little miss 304.”

You can only laugh, doing your best to enjoy the rest of your date with him while the knowledge that he’s leaving tomorrow haunts in your periphery.

Nine:

Johnny’s been gone for three days, and he’s been true to his word when you’d discussed communication while he’s on the rig. He’s kept contact with you, sending good morning messages for you to wake up to, and texting or calling in the late evening when he’s off work.

However, other things have progressed as well. You’d come out of your apartment this morning to find not one, but two bouquets waiting for you, and you feel as if this thing with Jaehyun and Hyuck is getting out of hand.

You find yourself at Jungwoo’s bar again, giving him the rundown on everything that has happened.

“So you’re like, set on Johnny then, huh?” your friend asks.

“I’m not sure, it’s only been three days that he’s been gone but I miss him already, and I can’t even imagine what it will be like to wait another nineteen days-”

“You always knew distance would be a struggle,” Jungwoo nods.

You groan, taking a sip of your fruity cocktail. “I just can’t believe Jaehyun and Hyuck left flowers at my door.”

“You’re going to have to do something about them.”

“Like what?”

“Reject or accept, babes,” Jungwoo says simply.

“Accept?”

“You’re not technically dating Johnny yet. It sounds like he understands you might go on a date or two while he’s gone, I mean, you had that whole conversation about keeping things PG so it’s not awkward if he comes back and you’ve chosen someone else- it feels like he’s giving you breathing room to explore.”

You can only sigh, resting your head in your hands.

“Do you want to explore?” Jungwoo enquires.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re going to bump into Jaehyun or Hyuck sometime, so you better figure it out fast.”

Ten:

As you’re returning from happy hour with Jungwoo, you run into your building manager. He’s a young man named Doyoung. He has a very regal look to him, and he’s as attractive as most of the men on the third floor.

He’s in the small building office, and as you walk past, he stops you.

“y/n!” he calls, waving you inside, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you!”

Your heart sinks- your payment wasn’t late, was it? Did you get a noise complaint? Your mind begins to race-

“I heard that people have been leaving notes and flowers at your door,” Doyoung tells you. “As you’re a young woman who is new to the building, I wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re not being harassed.”

Your brain short circuits- it’s one thing for Jungwoo and other people on the third floor to know about your ‘secret admirers’ but another for your building manager to be broaching the topic with you.

“I uh,” you swallow thickly. “I’m not being harassed.”

Doyoung gives you a pointed look. “You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “It’s all just playful, nothing… nefarious.”

God, you hate how proper you’re trying to sound, but how else are you supposed to explain this situation to Doyoung?

This is so awkward, who knew moving into a new apartment would be this fucking complex?

Eleven:

You’re in the lobby checking your mailbox when the front door opens and Jaehyun walks in. His hair is windswept, and he looks like he’s getting back from the gym. He immediately flashes you that dimpled smile and your heart begins to thunder in your rib cage.

“Hey, you,” he grins. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I’ve uh… been busy,” you offer, quickly closing your mail box.

“Seems that way,” Jaehyun muses, and you realize he’s waiting to go to the elevator with you.

Taking a deep breath, you pull up your big girl panties, walking with him to the lift.

He hits the button, turning to you. “So-”

The elevator opens and you find Hyuck standing there, having just come up from the underground parkade, and suddenly you feel like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hiya, hot stuff,” Hyuck grins. “Going up?”

Part of you wants to turn and run away, but you’re in too deep now to go back, so you enter the elevator with the two men who’ve been fighting for space on your door, and maybe also in your heart.

“How’ve you been?” Hyuck asks.

“I’ve been good, just busy,” you mutter quickly, hitting the ‘close door’ button in the hope that it saves you even one second in this awkward elevator ride.

“You coming from the gym?” Hyuck’s line of questioning has taken a turn, and you realize he’s addressing Jaehyun next to you.

“Yup, you?”

“Was just out,” Hyuck responds vaguely.

You get the sense that these two might know each other in passing, after all, you all live on the same floor, but at the same time, it’s somewhat clear from their muted interaction that they’re not particularly close.

It’s an awkward, silent minute in the elevator, but it’s even more awkward when you all get off on the third floor, with both men letting you exit first, only to struggle in a pissing match over who follows you.

They end up tracing your steps to your door, and when you get there, they both stop.

“Wait,” Hyuck breathes, and you watch him look from you to Jaehyun then back again. “You must be sticky note dude.”

“And you’re flowers guy,” Jaehyun sighs.

Both of them turn to you and it’s Hyuck who asks, “You’re still single right?”

It must be obvious to them both that if they’re warring at your doorstep, neither of them actually have your number just yet, and while it’s awkward to be put on the spot like this, you understand their confusion.

“Still single,” you assure them, fumbling with your keys. “I uh, actually have only lived here a month, and I’m still getting settled-” you search for the right words while trying not to drop your phone. “I appreciate the interest from you both, but this has gotten a little out of hand- Doyoung asked me about all of this yesterday-”

“Doyoung?” Hyuck scoffs. “What does he care if we leave notes and flowers at your door?”

“I guess he’s just concerned about my safety?” you offer.

While you can tell that Jaehyun understands, Hyuck still seems a little slow to the pick up, rolling his eyes. “As if we’d ever do anything bad.”

Which is funny, coming from a guy who’s supposedly a drug dealer.

“I think I just need some space,” you say finally, shocked by the conviction in your own voice as you slip your key into the lock. “To… you know, settle.”

“I’m sure we can give you some space,” Jaehyun offers, and you can tell from his tone that it’s a warning to Hyuck not to argue.

The plug sighs. “Yeah, we can give some space.”

They’re both very handsome, and upon different circumstances, one of them doing the sticky note and flowers trick might have swayed you, but the fact that it’s become something of a war between them has turned you off. The seriousness in Doyoung’s discussion with you yesterday had made you realize as much, and you’d be lying if you said your growing connection with Johnny didn’t have anything to do with it either.

Twelve:

After the debacle with Jaehyun and Hyuck, you’d anxiously awaited a call with Johnny when he was done work and back at the camp. But now, as you talk to him on the phone, you hesitate about divulging in the events that took place today.

Johnny’s making an effort with you, but you can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to add pressure to his shoulders-

“Are you okay, 304?” Johnny asks.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just a bit quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” you admit with a sigh.

“Sounds intense, what’s up?”

Another deep breath escapes you. “So… remember the whole secret admirer thing?”

“Uh huh.”

“They left flowers on my doorstep a few days ago too, and Doyoung actually pulled me aside to ask me about it- he was worried I’m being harassed, and it just makes me think about, you know, being a young woman in a new city and my safety…”

You trail off and Johnny takes the opportunity to empathize, softly telling you, “Being anxious about this sort of thing is reasonable given the circumstances.”

“It’s not that I think Jaehyun or Hyuck would ever overstep-”

“Well, they left notes, and you didn’t respond, so they left flowers, it’s not exactly a sign that they’re going to back off.”

“I guess that’s true,” you admit.

“Anyways, you were saying, about Doyoung?”

You love how Johnny can get you back on track, and you take another deep breath to steady yourself. “I saw Jaehyun and Hyuck in the elevator today, and they both walked me to my door which was super awkward, and I guess I pretty much ended up telling them both that I needed space. Part of me wasn’t sure if I should tell you any of this, I know you’re tired after work a long day, but I guess I want to be transparent with you about everything.”

The line is quiet for a moment, and when Johnny speaks, you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate you bringing it up,” he starts. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little shocked you didn’t accept either of their offers to get drinks.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought I’d made it clear that I’d understand if you did-”

“Just because you’d understand it doesn’t mean I was going to do it,” you tell him.

Johnny chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. I just, I don’t know, you don’t owe me anything- and maybe you’re just not interested in either of them, but I hope you didn’t say no to them to… spare my feelings or something?”

“Well… are your feelings spared?”

Another laugh escapes him. “I just mean to say, this wouldn’t be the first time a girl thought she could do long distance, only to get a better option in town and jump ship.”

“Maybe I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated,” you tell him.

“It’s starting to feel like you’re not.” You can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest.

“When I get one man in my head, I can’t think about another. I’m not the type to jump ship,” you explain. “You’ve given me no reason to.”

“Except the distance,” he muses.

“Even with the distance, you’ve been attentive every day, and I’ve really appreciated that. You know, some guys will live in the same city as you, take you on one date, then not talk to you for five days- you and I did two dates back to back, and we’ve been talking consistently ever since.”

“Like I said, I didn’t want you to feel like an afterthought.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like just an option.”

The line is quiet for a moment, then Johnny laughs. “There you go, being dangerous again.”

“If being genuine is dangerous, then I’m the most dangerous woman you’ll ever meet, Johnny.”

“I work on a rig, 304, I happen to like danger.”

Thirteen:

You’re drinking wine with Jungwoo in your livingroom when your phone dings, and a smile spreads across your face when you see it’s a text from Johnny.

“One second,” you tell him, putting down your wine to respond to your blue collar man.

“Johnny?” Jungwoo grins knowingly.

“Yup, he’s just telling me he’s off work, but now it’s a two hour drive back to the camp.”

“So our girls’ night is over in two hours, got it,” Jungwoo jokes, except, is it really a joke if it’s true?

You can only laugh, shaking your head and setting your phone down again.

“You like him,” Jungwoo notes. “You like him a lot.”

“I do,” you confess.

“You told Jaehyun and Hyuck off because of him,” your friend continues.

“Uh huh.” You take a sip of your wine, trying to ignore the knowing expression on Jungwoo’s face.

“So… has it gotten sexual yet? You know, asking for snaps of your tits-”

“Jungwoo!” you squeal, nearly spilling your wine as you go to gently smack his arm.

“What!? It’s a valid question!”

“No! It’s not sexual yet! I mean… I think we both have those feelings, but right now… we’re just, getting to know each other.”

“And when he’s home?” Jungwoo cocks a brow and you giggle even more.

“When he’s home…” you lower your voice, “I’m going to climb that man like a tree.”

“I knew it!” Jungwoo cheers. “Team Johnny!”

You clink your glasses in agreement, waiting for Jungwoo to settle down a little. He’s way too invested in your love life, but you kind of adore it.

“You know…” Jungwoo trails off, “some rig guys do mostly winters, then come back for the summer and will take a couple of months off. I remember seeing Johnny more frequently last August.”

“He mentioned that,” you admit.

“Did he say if he plans to do that this year? It’s almost March, so that’s April, May, maybe June… three or four more stints up there until a possible summer of love?”

You laugh at his choice of words, but your heart races at the notion of getting to spend your whole summer with Johnny, of a relationship of normalcy.

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” you decide.

“Maybe send some sexy snaps to tempt him, or talk about it once he’s home and you’ve sucked that dick, you know, incentives.”

“You’re so bad,” you giggle.

“I’m a hit of realism, which is what you need after living a fantasy for a month with three men fighting over you.”

You let out a sigh. “I suppose you might be right about that.”

Fourteen:

“How was your day?” you ask, practically kicking your feet now that you get to talk to Johnny.

“Long,” he laughs. “You?”

“It was good, hung out with Jungwoo for a bit, had some wine.”

“I can hear it in your voice, 304, you always get extra cute when you’ve been drinking your wine.”

“Do I?”

“See? I can just imagine you kicking your feet right now.”

God, he knows you so well already- but you suppose that’s what happens when you talk to someone for hours every day.

“And now you probably stopped kicking your feet because you’re embarrassed,” he continues.

“You’re a psychic,” you declare.

“Sure I am.”

You take a breath. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“So… you mentioned that sometimes you have the summer off, and I guess, since it’s almost March, I was just wondering if you’d be around in June or July.”

“I mean, I wasn’t necessarily planning on it, but if that’s something you wanted, I could see what I could make happen.”

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t want to tell you what to do… and, I don’t want you to lose out on money for me, especially since we just started dating, if you even call this dating- but, at the same time, I think, long term, it would be easier to manage you going away for six or more months if I knew you’d be back for at least part of the summer.”

“I do call this dating,” Johnny tells you. “So I’ll see what I can do about it.”

“I also wanted to know when you’re flight back is, I was thinking I could come grab you from the airport.”

Johnny chuckles. “I’ll send you the information, 304.”

Fifteen:

You’re waiting outside your car when you see Johnny coming out of the airport, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore. You run to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

Johnny chuckles, dropping his duffle to pull you closer, even going so far as to lift you off the ground, releasing a groan as he does so.

Fuck, he feels so good, and big, and warm-

When he sets you down, you throw inhibition out the window, grabbing the back of his neck to pull his lips down to your own.

He smiles into the kiss, his palm flattening against the small of your back, his mouth moving in harmony with your own. You kiss him deeply, pouring in all the emotion of having missed him for weeks-

It’s you who breaks the kiss, panting and looking up at him. “Let’s get you home,” you state.

“Whatever you say, 304.”

The drive back to the apartment complex is a blur, you’re so distracted by Johnny that you’re surprised you even make it back in one piece. The elevator ride is quiet, filled with tension, and you can practically feel happiness radiating off of both of you.

“Wanna come to mine?” Johnny suggests. “I need to have a quick shower, unpack a little.”

“Okay,” you nod, excited as you follow Johnny to his place.

He lets you in first, and you eagerly eat up what’s in front of you, looking for details of the decor that might help you know this man even better.

However, you find that his apartment is sparsely decorated, with bare necessities, a minimalist look, which you suppose makes sense given the fact that he’s hardly here.

“Your place is nicer,” Johnny muses as he kicks off his shoes.

“It’s just more furnished,” you laugh, not minding the lack of items.

“My bedroom is this way,” Johnny explains, heading into it while you follow slowly. He throws his bag on the floor next to his bed before turning to you. “I’m going to wash up a bit, then we can do whatever you want… or, I mean, you could always join me in the shower if that works better.”

He winks at you, and it’s very playful. You can only laugh, shaking your head and feeling your skin flush with heat as you look at the ground.

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, but when he disappears into the bathroom, you find your heart is still racing.

Should you go in the shower with him?

He had offered for you to join…

Can you be a bit more patient?

No. You can’t. As you stand in his bedroom, you begin to undress, hyping yourself up for the moment that you’ve been waiting for.

After a deep breath, you knock gently on the door to his bathroom.

“Come in!” he calls over the sound of water spray, and you peek your head into the enclosed space.

The room is full of steam, and the glassy walls of the shower are fogged up, but you can see the outline of Johnny’s body and it has you drooling.

You slip inside, closing the door behind you before making your way to the shower.

“Can I join you?” you ask, giving him one last opportunity to decide if this was a bad idea-

“Get in here.” Johnny opens the shower door, grabs your arm and tugs you inside with him. You blink against the mist, looking up at the large man who’s currently blocking the spray of water from hitting you. “Didn’t think you’d actually join,” he muses with a grin.

“Me neither,” you admit.

Johnny strokes your arm, fingers trailing up so he can cup your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone and you lean into his warm touch, releasing a moan.

“Do you want to do this here, or would you rather we wait till I can get you onto my bed?” he asks.

“Here,” you tell him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“Didn’t take you as the impatient type,” Johnny chuckles.

“I’ve been patient, for weeks,” you laugh.

“I guess that’s true, let’s fix that.” The tall man leans down, pressing his lips to your own. You immediately wrap your arms around his strong, wet shoulders, pressing your chests together as the kiss deepens.

You can feel your nipples hardening against him, and his hands move to grab at your hips, pulling you even tighter to his body.

Something is beginning to press against your abdomen, and you love that you’re getting him hard already, that he’s as into you as you are into him.

His palm slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing deliciously. You break the kiss to throw your head back, eyes closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.

“You know the only bad thing about shower sex?” Johnny asks, lips hot against your throat now. “Water isn’t lube, so I guess you’re going to have to be a good girl for me and wait just a little longer while I get you nice and wet for me.”

“I’m already wet,” you insist.

Johnny only chuckles, squeezing your ass harder as he licks at the sweet spot on your throat. “Let me enjoy this, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

“Really?” you groan. “I never would have noticed, you’re always so PG.”

“I’m not going to be PG anymore.”

“Thank god!” A shiver runs through your body at the idea of what ‘rated R Johnny’ is going to look like- and as he pushes his thigh up between your own, you’re so grateful that you no longer have to wonder, you’re about to find out exactly how dirty this blue collar man can get.

Johnny laughs again, but as he laughs, he pushes his thigh up even higher, making contact with your clit.

“Fuck, I haven’t been touched in so long,” you whimper, immediately grinding down against him.

“Well, you deserve this, you’ve been a very patient, very good girl for me.”

“I have been,” you nod, rubbing your clit harder against his large, muscled thigh.

“Had options, but you stayed loyal, even when you didn’t have to.” Johnny’s still kissing your throat, and he nuzzles up against your ear, biting your lobe gently. “I feel like those choices have earned you many rewards.”

His words are something like praise- appreciation almost, and you’re thankful that he’s taken into account the fact that you’ve made important decisions to put this blooming relationship first, even when - as Jungwoo said - you had no actual defined loyalty keeping you tied to this tall man.

“I just like you a lot,” you moan, feeling overwhelmed with the possibilities of a relationship with this man- a man who has communicated that he’s interested in something long term, which is such a stark contrast to most of the men you deal with these days.

God, to have hope for a man again- it’s such a foreign feeling.

“I like you too, 304.”

“Johnny,” you groan, “call me something else.”

“I think 304 is cute,” he grins against your throat.

“Please?”

“Okay, baby, I’ll call you anything you want,” Johnny promises, adjusting his grip on you so he can trail his hand up your torso, putting a slight distance between your bodies now so he can cup your breast. His thumb rubs over your hard nipple and you whimper, grinding harder against his thigh. “You are a baby, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“I could also see you as a bit of a princess,” he muses, pinching your nipple and making you gasp loudly. “Adorable little pretty princess baby.”

He might be overdoing it with the pet names, but you can’t even bring yourself to care- in fact, this overt cheesiness is doing something to you, making your pussy throb as you grind against his wet skin.

“That’s it,” Johnny groans, “I kind of want to watch you get off on my thigh.”

“Yeah?” You swallow thickly, reaching for his hard cock. You’re a little taken aback by how large he is, but you guess you shouldn’t be all that surprised. You’ve been shy so far, not even taking so much as a peek at what you’re going to be working with- and maybe that had been a mistake. You’d been so sure of yourself earlier when you’d told Johnny you could take him without prep, and now you’re realizing how wrong you had been.

A deep moan escapes Johnny as you begin to stroke him, and he rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you cry out- only for his hand to move away, along with his thigh.

You want to protest- only for two digits to press between your pussy lips, teasing your entrance but not pushing in- just playing, toying, moving up to your clit then back down.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“You definitely feel wet,” Johnny muses.

“So finger fuck me?” you suggest, applying more pressure to his cock as you stroke him off.

“Hmm?” He circles your clit teasingly, being so gentle that your body is already practically begging for more.

“Please finger fuck me?” you ask, your free hand now clutching his forearm in desperation.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Johnny cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his as his fingers enter your hot core for the first time.

Fuck, his fingers alone are enough to stretch you out and it feels absolutely delightful.

He starts slow, testing the waters as his digits explore your inner walls gently, but as the kiss deepens so do his motions.

You’re absolutely lost in him, whimpering and moaning- your hips even begin to move, eagerly seeking out stimulus that he grants when his palm presses flat to your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, holding his strong, veiny forearm even tighter.

“Feels good?” he asks, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.

“Feels so good,” you nod, fighting the urge to just close your eyes and enjoy it, while also wanting to stare up at this gorgeous man who is watching you with clear interest.

You take a shuddery breath, trying to focus on stroking his cock, but he makes it more difficult when he crooks his fingers up, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you that has your legs shaking.

“Are you going to be able to stand through all of this?” Johnny chuckles. “That’s the other bad thing about shower sex, it’s a slipping risk.”

“I think I can do it,” you insist, not wanting him to stop his motions for even one moment.

“Just hold onto me tightly okay, but if you start to fall, uh… don’t pull my dick off.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and Johnny joins you with a chuckle of his own.

This feels so natural, so safe- the fact that you’re both giggling during your first sexual experience together is a great sign, and it makes you relax a little more, which only adds to the pleasure that’s starting to throb out from your core.

“You close?” Johnny asks, sensing the shift in your attention.

“Too close,” you nod, swallowing thickly in an effort to control yourself.

“Want you to cum on my fingers,” he tells you. “You can do that for me, right princess?”

“Uh huh.” Your mind is becoming clouded by lust, and it’s making it harder for you to respond to him-

His fingers are moving fast now, pistoning in and out of you with just the right amount of pressure, his palm stimulating your clit in a way that’s just enough-

You’re getting closer and closer to the edge and you don’t feel like slowing down.

Your eyes close, your breathing becoming haggard as your muscles tighten with anticipation-

“Cum on my fingers, baby,” Johnny groans. “Wanna feel it.”

With that, you explode, unable to contain yourself anymore as his filthy words vibrate through your entire being like a mantra. The pleasure is intense, your core clamping down on his digits, body throbbing deliciously as you give yourself over to the feeling of it.

Your legs are weak, and you grab Johnny’s forearm tighter, digging your nails against his skin.

It’s the kind of ecstasy that you never want to end, and it’s clear that Johnny’s not going to be the one to pull the rug out from under you. He keeps you steady, working you through your high until your legs are physically shaking.

Only once he’s sure you’re finished does Johnny pull his hand away.

You open your eyes to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, and an echo of pleasure throbs through your pussy again.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” Johnny tells you.

“Want you inside of me, now,” you respond.

“Hmmm… not yet.”

“What?”

“You almost just fell over, I don’t think this is the safest place to do this,” Johnny laughs. “Come on, let's get out of the shower, dry off, and I’ll take you to my bed, like I’d planned.”

“Is it really that bad to fuck me here?” you whine.

“One, I don’t want you to slip, and two, I don’t want our first time to be here, you deserve a proper bed, so I can cuddle you after.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you tease, but your heart swells at the notion of a man actually taking care of you.

“You love it,” Johnny insists.

He reaches behind himself, turning off the spray of water, then, he helps you out of the enclosed space. “Here,” Johnny passes you a towel, quickly patting himself down with his own before wrapping it around his waist, then he begins to help dry you off.

“I can do this part,” you assure him.

“I want to take care of you,” Johnny muses as his palms massage your breasts through the towel, making sure they’re extra dry.

“I think you just want to touch my tits again,” you grin.

“That too,” Johnny laughs.

“Predictable,” you toy.

“You think so?”

“Uh huh.”

In one quick motion, Johnny grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto the washroom countertop, tearing the towel away and discarding it haphazardly as he sinks to his knees.

“I think I’m going to make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you, you know, to prove how predictable I am.”

You don’t even have a moment to argue, Johnny pushes your thighs open, pulls you to the edge of the counter, and dives into your core with his tongue.

You immediately latch onto his damp hair, throwing your head back as his mouth begins to work your pussy. You’re still sensitive from having just cum, and the sensation of his lips now wrapping around your clit has your muscles clenching with pleasure already.

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the way Johnny’s fingers are digging into your thighs, holding you open for a tongue that has a mind of its own.

You especially adore how messy he’s being. There are no kitten licks, no hesitancies, just a full-on lust fuelled ravaging of your core- nothing in your life has ever felt this fucking good.

You tug on Johnny’s hair roughly, but he’s unrelenting, in fact, you think he kind of likes the inkling of pain because he groans against your clit, licking at you sloppily while his nose bumps your sensitive bud over and over.

For a man who doesn’t do one night stands very often, he definitely knows his way around a pussy.

“Shit,” you moan, louder this time, your muscles tightening more and more-

You’re not used to men behaving this way with you, worshiping your body and putting your pleasure first. To have two back to back orgasms before he’s even taken anything for himself? Unheard of.

You can tell he wants you to cum, can tell that he’s eager for it, and the wet licks of his tongue against your sensitive pussy are ensuring that his preferred outcome happens sooner rather than later.

You give in to the feeling, deciding to relinquish control. If he wants to make you cum fast, then you can cum fast, and all of your attention moves to the feeling of pleasure that’s radiating out from your core.

Your abdominal muscles are tightening deliciously, and you begin to buck your hips a little, trying to ride his tongue while you hold him tight to your pussy by his hair.

Johnny groans again and the vibration of it sends a shiver of delight through your entire body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You swallow thickly, brows furrowing with effort as you latch onto that feeling of euphoria, unwilling to let it drift away- “just like that, just like that-”

He sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking it with his tongue, and that’s all you need to explode, your pussy clamping down hard on nothing, squeezing and squelching sinfully.

You’re gasping loudly, moaning like a whore as your orgasm washes over you in waves- and like your first high, Johnny is just as unrelenting with this one.

He doesn’t pull away, and with so much attention focused on your throbbing clit, it’s almost too much for you to handle.

You begin to push at Johnny’s head, but he’s like a brick wall, unmoving and diligent in his task.

“Oh my god-” your voice is raising with effort, raising with the euphoria that’s threatening to overwhelm you completely. “Johnny- too much-”

This time, he allows you to push him away, and you sink back down against the countertop, chest heaving with effort. Your legs twitch with aftershocks from your orgasm, and you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes yet, still lost in the ecstasy he’d just provided.

“You okay, princess?” Johnny asks, and you can sense him rising to his feet, his eyes inspecting you.

“Overstimulated,” you admit, another shock washing through you and making you jolt.

“I got side tracked,” Johnny admits, and you peer out at him from under hooded lids to see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay, it was just a lot,” you assure him, reaching out to gently stroke his forearm.

“Come on,” Johnny coaxes, lifting you off the sink so he can carry you to his room, “let’s give you a breather.”

He lays you gently onto his mattress, moving the blankets so you can get under the warm duvet.

The sheets smell like him, a manly pine scent, and it makes you groan, burying your face against the pillows while your brain tries to reaclimatize after a mind shattering orgasm.

Johnny joins you, and you instinctively cuddle close to his chest, delighted by the way his large arms wrap around you to hold you close.

“Just give me a sec,” you whisper, but even as the words leave your lips, your hand snakes down to his cock, and you gently wrap your fingers around the thick length.

Johnny chuckles. “Part of me thought you’d be too tired to actually fuck now.”

“Never,” you tell him, although you’re so exhausted from two extreme orgasms that there’s little conviction in the tone of your voice.

“Take your time,” Johnny assures you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head while you languidly stroke his large cock. Unlike in the shower, however, there’s no lubrication of any kind, and soon, you tire of it.

“Okay,” you tell him, sitting up, “I can ride you.”

“Are you sure you want to be on top?” he blinks in shock.

“Just to start, just to get used to your size,” you assure him.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

You swing your leg over Johnny’s hips, straddling him, and his hands find your waist.

“Actually, let me grab some lube,” he says, sitting up abruptly. The muscles in his abdomen ripple under the skin, and you’re taken aback by just how beautiful this man is even as he’s reaching for his bedside table.

He pulls out a green bottle, squirting some of the gell into his palm before he grabs his cock.

You kind of love the view of his large hand on his massive cock, stroking up and down-

“Like what you see?” he laughs.

“You’re just so perfect,” you muse.

“That makes two of us I guess,” Johnny grins. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

He’s all lathered up now, and you grab the base of his cock, guiding yourself down on the tip.

As you sink down even an inch, you groan at the stretch.

He’s covered in lube, and you’re definitely more than lubricated from two orgasms, but fuck- having not had sex in ages only to take the biggest cock of your life is definitely an adjustment for your tight pussy.

“Take it slow,” he assures you, tightening his grip on your hips to keep you steady as you gently sink down further on his cock.

“I’m good, you’re just so big,” you whimper.

Johnny only chuckles at your words, his eyes fixed on the meeting of your bodies.

“Not sure I can take it all like this,” you admit.

“I’ve heard that when a girl is on top, things feel deeper,” Johnny muses. “Don’t feel like you have to take it all right now, we can work up to that.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’m going to bounce a bit.”

“Works for me, princess.”

You close your eyes, leaning over him and placing your hands firmly on his chest as an anchor as you begin to move up and down. The feeling of his massive cock against your inner walls has your body singing with pleasure already, and you begin to moan.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “Feels good.”

“So good,” you agree with another whimper.

One of Johnny’s hands moves from your hip to your breast, and he begins to massage the sensitive flesh as you ride him gently. The sensation of him tweaking your nipple has you groaning, your pussy clenching incredibly tight around him, which makes both of you cry out desperately.

“Fuck, let me know when you want me to take over,” Johnny tells you, and you get the sense that you might be killing him a little with the slowness of your pace. His hips twitch, and you suspect that he’s doing everything in his power not to madly thrust up into you, which is something you appreciate greatly.

You ride him for a little while longer, and then you give up, legs burning with effort already. “Okay, okay, you can top now.”

You pull off of his cock, and Johnny helps you roll down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

Instead of just getting on top of you, however, he stays on his side and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours while his hand continues to massage your breast.

You groan against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair desperately as his tongue invades your mouth.

He kisses you until you’re breathless, until your pussy is pulsing with desire, only then does he get between your legs, bringing the head of his cock to your awaiting hole.

“If you ever need me to slow down, or be less rough, or anything, just let me know,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as he gazes at your body.

“Just do it, Johnny,” you assure him, stroking his forearm. “Please.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob with effort again, and he slowly pushes the head of his cock into your wet hole, making you cry out. You grip his arm tighter, closing your eyes to enjoy the stretching sensation.

He sinks into you, inch by inch, gently thrusting to get you used to the intrusion.

When he’s almost fully inside of you, Johnny leans over your body, his elbows making contact with the bed on either side of your head so he can be in something of a plank position overtop of you.

You can feel his breath on your face, and you open your eyes to look up at him, your hand moving to cup his cheek while your legs wrap loosely around his waist.

“You can fuck me now,” you tease, grinning at how slow and gentle he’s been up until this point. “Please.”

Johnny presses his lips to yours, and just like that, he begins to move.

Each thrust is unbound pleasure, his hips moving fluidly as he gradually increases his pace. His long cock hits deep spots inside of you that have you crying out, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders while your tongues battle for dominance in the most heated kiss of your life.

He’s moaning too, and it sounds so good- making your pussy even wetter as he decimates it perfectly.

You love the feeling of his large body pressing down against your own, his hard muscles are delightful under your touch when you skim your hand along his shoulders.

He’s steadily increasing the power behind each thrust, and now, the bed is beginning to rock with his movements, delighting you even more.

How can this man have so much raw power, but still be so gentle and careful when it matters most?

You might be a little obsessed with him, but as his massive cock hits your g-spot, you suppose it’s no wonder your feelings are growing at a rapid pace.

He has you cock drunk, in a way that you’ve never experienced in the entirety of your life, and you kind of love it.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, breaking your kiss so he can press his mouth to your throat. “I never- never asked about protection.”

“I’m covered,” you assure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “You can cum inside me.”

A deep groan escapes Johnny, and it vibrates through where your chests are pressed together.

“Don’t want to cum like this,” Johnny tells you, “it’s too soon.”

He pulls away, and you whimper when his cock leaves your wet hole. But then Johnny is manhandling you into doggy position, and you let out a moan of pleasure, arching your back and resting your head against the bed.

“You look good like this too,” Johnny muses as he pushes his cock back into you, his hands grabbing your hips roughly. “Always look so good.”

His praise is doing something to you, encouraging you enough to make you begin to move as well, doing your best to match his pace and push back against him with each thrust.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and your moans mingle in the air together.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, railing into you even harder. “So fucking tight-”

“I’m close,” you assure him, “just let me-” you slip your hand between your thighs, fingers seeking out your sensitive clit. The moment you make contact, you feel your pussy contract around Johnny’s cock, and it makes you both moan loudly.

“Yeah, want you to cum with me,” Johnny tells you. “Want us to cum together.”

You don’t respond, too focused on your task as you begin to draw small circles around the sensitive bud.

God, nothing has ever felt this good, to be so completely full, while your clit is receiving attention at the same time-

The tension is quickly building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s clear to both of you that you’re rapidly approaching the edge-

“Here,” Johnny’s voice distracts you, and all of the sudden he’s hauling you onto your knees, pinning your back to his chest with an arm braced across your breasts, one hand cupping your boob like a seatbelt. You can feel his breath on your throat, and you quickly turn your head, seeking out his lips with your own.

His free hand pushes yours aside from your clit, applying even more pressure to your sensitive bud as he fucks into you erratically.

God, you feel him absolutely everywhere. You feel like a doll, suspended in time and space while this absolute unit of a man gives you all of the pleasure you could ever ask for, pulling at your strings like an expert.

He’s groaning more deeply- and with one more rough circle of your clit, you feel yourself come undone. You gasp against his lips, core clamping down on his cock-

A strangled sound escapes Johnny, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he cums with you, coating your throbbing insides with his cum as you both fall off the edge together.

He’s clinging to you in a way a man has never clung to you, and you’re kissing him as if he’s the air you need to breathe. In this moment, it’s only you and him and this feeling of euphoria that you never want to give up.

He fucks you through your high until you’re both a panting mess, and then, he helps you back onto the bed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to go get some tissues,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You can only moan happily, inhaling the scent of pine as you cuddle against his pillow.

Johnny returns shortly, and he hands you some tissues to wipe his cum from your core.

“Should we take another shower or something?” Johnny asks, laughing a little at how messy you both are.

“Cuddles first,” you tell him.

Johnny grins, joining you on his bed, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you. “Cuddles first,” he agrees.

You both take deep breaths, and as your body begins to calm down while pressed against his, you know you made the right choice of man in this fucked up, love island-esque apartment complex that you now call home.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was way longer than I intended, which is why it took a minute to be posted, but I hope it was worth the wait!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. In the summer, Johnny’s not just a blue collar rig man, he’s a dude with friends, tanned skin from his obsession with the sun, and a taste for margaritas while sitting on boats between water skiing stints.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of toys, vibrator, nipple clamps, overstimulation, breast worship, use of lube, inklings of pain kink, hand job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) princess

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 100

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

People sometimes talk about a specific summer in their life being ‘the summer of dreams,’ and you never quite understood what could make one stretch of months so significant- but now, living life with Johnny by your side every day, it makes total sense.

In the few months you’ve been dating, he’s done his best to introduce you to friends, but with such a short time in town, it was always difficult to juggle friends, family, and your growing relationship.

Now that it’s summer, you get to see how Johnny is when he’s just being himself.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.8k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

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whore-anghaereads · 7 months ago

Text

Ughhh i know he’s not explicitly called this in the fic but ( DADDY ) JUN !! serving 9-5 realness. Ughhh woof. This was so hot and cute and angsty and i literally just need him to be all over me like this.

Ty for this fic !!!

so it goes…

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: wen junhui x camgirl! f.reader

↳ Getting caught up in a moment. Lipstick on your face, so it goes. I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, camgirl reader, kind of anonymous camboy jun, smut warning below the cut

an: this was inspired by the song so it goes.. by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), camgirl reader, creampie, snowballing?? kind of anonymous camboy jun, dirty talk, oral (male rec), recording sexual acts, fingering & handjobs, thigh riding, masturbation, nicknames: (hers) baby, baby girl, (his) baby,

Long before you even met Junhui you heard about him frequently from your friend from college friend. You and her had grown closer in the last year when she took up being a cam girl just like you. Your life as a cam girl wasn’t planned but down on your luck you had heard plenty of girls talk about how they make bank off of it so you decided to give it a try. After a month and half of doing it you were making so much money you didn’t bother looking back. Your online persona “cherrybby” was something you tried to keep separate from your everyday life.

You weren’t ashamed of your career path by any means. You would prefer that close family don’t know and you don’t normally tell new friends about your job until you're comfortable. The only downside of your career is dating. You’ve been a cam girl for three years and hadn’t even been on one date. Your sex life consists of pleasuring yourself on camera. You don’t know the last time a man had touched you.

On a random Monday afternoon you were having lunch with your friend kitten who is now a cam girl. She telling you all about how her boyfriend Joshua gets off on being in the room while she films. You can’t help but be envious that she’s able to have a stable relationship and this career.

“Have you gone out with anyone recently?” She asked.

A soft chuckle passes your lips, “I haven’t had sex with a man once since I started this job.”

“Would you be interested in dating someone?” You know that she has a large group of friends and you’ve met a few of the boys and they’re all extremely good looking.

“I feel like if I go on a date with someone they need to know even before dating me about my job,” you sigh.

“I have a friend named Junhui. He’s like only one of my only friends I told about my job after Shua found out.”

“Have I met him before?” You’re trying to remember all the boys you met the one time you met her at the bar.

“No you haven’t. Junhui isn’t going to judge you for your job. He’s a really nice guy, he’s really hard working. He’s one of those nine to five guys who wears a suit to work everyday and works in an office.”

She was right he didn’t judge you for your career. Kitten managed to set you up with Junhui a week after you had lunch. He took you out to dinner and a movie. You asked him if he would be okay with your job and he told you he’s fine with it. He told you he respected you for how hard you worked to make money. The one downside to him was, he let you know he wasn't able to be in a super serious relationship but he definitely wanted to date. You took that as you were going to be together but you weren’t going to put a label on it right away.

It’s been four months and in your mind Junhui is your boyfriend even though you’ve never had the talk about labels. You learned very early on that Junhui has a thing for appearing in your videos but remaining anonymous. He often wears a face mask and makes sure you only see him from the neck down. He’s never taken his clothes off on camera. He has no problem fingering you until you’re practically screaming or playing with you or using toys on you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling his strong thigh. He’s dressed in business attire coming over straight from work. He’s wearing tight slacks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing the veins in his arms.

He always tries to see you before you go live. He made a joke about you riding his thigh and the next thing you knew he has you naked with your camera on. Your lips are painted a cherry color as your leave lipstick stains across the column of his neck. You grind your hips against this thigh getting the friction you desperately need.

It’s a blessing you live alone so you can be as loud as you need. Your fingers cling to his white dress shirt, rubbing yourself against his thigh harder.

“Fuck,” he softly moans. His hands grip your add helping you grind against him.

As you fall apart it takes everything not to moan his name. You instead opt for moaning, “baby” your name you only refer to him as on camera.

After you finish your stream you lay on your bed completely naked watching as Junhui stands next to the bed staring down at you. He’s fixing his tie that you had been holding on to as your orgasm washed over. “I wanted to suck the life out of you on camera.” You desperately want to give him head on camera or have him fuck you, but that’s against one of the only boundaries you have both set when it came to your streams. He wanted to remain fully anonymous and he didn’t want to be naked on your streaks.

He chuckles, “you can do it now off camera.”

“I thought you had to meet Seungcheol, Minghao, and Joshua at the bar?” You know he doesn’t have time for that.

“They can wait.” He unbuckles his belt.

“I shouldn’t make you late again,” you sit up slowly.

“Why don’t you come with me?” He pushes his dress pants and boxers down his strong thighs.

“It sounds like it’s a boys night.” He crawls onto the bed and strokes himself as he watches you crawl towards him.

He shakes his head, “it’s not, some of the boys are bringing their girlfriends. Shau is bringing Kitten, and Seungcheol is bringing Darling. Jihoon might also swing by and if he does his girlfriend might be with him.”

You lay on your stomach in front of him. You watch as he strokes his hardened length.

“Are you sure you want me to go?” You’re still always a little awkward when you go on outings with him.

“Yes I’m sure. Now are you going to suck me off like you desperately wanted to do?”

You can’t help but smile before you take over stroking him. He watched you with lust filled eyes. You slowly lick his sensitive head as you stroke him. “Are you going to tease me?” Hollowing your cheeks you take him into your mouth as far as he can go. The moans that pass his lips are absolutely intoxicating.

His fingers thread your hair pulling your hair away from your face.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” he moans.

It doesn’t take long before he falls apart moaning your name. You hold him in your mouth swallowing every last drop of his release.

He pulls you up to him so you’re sitting on his lap. “I can’t get enough of you.” He crashes his lips into your not caring that he can taste his one cum on your tongue.

Leaning against the bar, he stares at you intently watching as you’re talking to Minghao and Kitten. You can feel his eyes burning into you. It’s intoxicating knowing that you’re the only thing he can focus on.

“You know I’ve never seen him so fascinated by a girl,” his roommate Minghao says.

“Seems like Junnie is down bad for you,” Kitten says smiling. He’s not the only one who is down bad. You’ve been seeing him for four months and it’s safe to say you are very in love with him. The problem is he hasn’t labeled your relationship and hasn’t mentioned being in love with you. “You know before you Junhui was so focused on work he never had time to date or go out. Since he started seeing you he's been more social again.”

“My dear roommate Junnie isn’t great with commitment. He never has been, he seems different with you.” You hope that means that he plans on defining your relationship soon.

“He’s the first guy I have dated in years and honestly I really love being with him. He’s kinda perfect for me.” Junhui is everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. There is something special about the fact he’s so accepting about your career. Whatever you do Junhui doesn’t judge you.

“I’m lucky you introduced me to him,” you give Kitten a smile.

Joshua comes over wrapping his arms around her waist like pulling her back for a kiss.

Looking over at Junhui you give him a come hither look. Pushing himself off the bar he excuses himself from his conversation with Seungcheol. He comes over taking your hand in his. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hand. You lean in close to him and instantly feel a warmth take over you at being close to him.

“Can I spend the night at your place?” He asked.

“Of course.” You love when he spends the night. Your place gives you more privacy since you don’t have roommates.

You spend the night talking to Junhui friend’s who you now consider your own friends and when ten o’clock rolls around Junhui uses this as his opportunity to tell everyone he’s tired and needs to go to bed. Taking you by the hand he leads you out of the bar. The moment you’re in his car his hand is on your thigh telling you he can’t wait to have you naked.

The moment he walks into your apartments he drags you off to your room. With little effort he has you naked.

He has you on your side with your leg hooked over his arm as he stuffs your tight pussy full with each slow thrust from behind. Your hand reaches behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair. He leaves a trail of kisses across your shoulder. Definitely leaving bruises in his path. You adore how intimate this whole thing is between you. You don’t feel the need to try and come off as sexy. You can just be yourself and enjoy the way he’s making you feel.

“Baby-“ he moans in your ear.

He knows all the ways to make you fall apart.

“Rub your clit.”

Silently you follow his instructions. The coil in your stomach tightens as you’re close to falling apart.

As a white hot wave washes over you, you hold back desperately wanting to admit you love him.

It’s been two weeks since you went to the bar with Junhui and his friends. In those two weeks you’ve realized that you are indeed very much in love with him. He’s been super busy at work so you haven’t gotten to see him as much as normal. That doesn’t stop you from talking on the phone daily and even stealing a few minutes alone when you can.

You're making yourself a little snack before you go live. You’re already in your lingerie you plan on wearing. Dressed in a sheer blush colored bra that does nothing to cover your nipples and a pair of crotchless matching panties.

Your front door opens and you peek your head out of the kitchen to see Junhui walking in. He’s dressed in his normal business attire he wears to work. You didn’t plan on seeing him today. He had mentioned he had dinner plans with some of the boys.

“Hi baby,” he smiles, walking towards you. “I see I found you in your work clothes.”

“I was going to stream soon.”

“You look mouth watering,” he walks toward you. He backs you up until your butt hits the kitchen table. “Am I allowed to play with you before you go online?” If he’s asking to play with you off camera, you know that definitely means he wants to be naked with you. He just doesn’t want to toy with you while others watch.

You give him a playful pout, “you know I can’t say no to you.”

Without a word he picks you up, sitting you on the edge of the kitchen table. He stands between your legs. You tugs on his tie pulling him closer to you. “You didn’t go home after work?”

“Why would I?” He cocks his head to the side. “Especially when you’re walking around looking like this?”

“I thought you had dinner plans with Minghao, and Jeonghan?” You originally planned on streaming tonight, but you would much rather spend time with him.

“I told them something came up.”

“What came up?” Leaning forward you press your cherry painted lips against the collar of his crisp white shirt.

“I thought you might want me to stream with you.”

“Are you sure it’s just not because you wanted to see me?” You reply pulling back to look at him with doe eyes. Tugging on his tie pulling him closer to you. “can you tell me you missed me?”

“Baby I always miss you,” he smiles.

“I don’t want to go live I want you to fuck me instead.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just picks you up and carries you off to your bedroom. He tosses you on the bed with a smirk across his face.

“Baby did you want to film me fucking you?” He unbuttons his shirt.

“I thought you didn’t want to stream with your clothes off?”

“How about you film us and we can decide if you post it,” he reaches for your camera that’s sitting on your dresser.

“Okay,” you smiled.

Laying on the bed he sets up the camera and hits record. Sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed you watch as he slowly unbuttons his dress shirts. “You look so pretty sitting there watching me.”

“You’re just so pretty,” you smile.

Tossing his dress shirt on the floor he unbuckled his pants. “Can I take them off?” You asked?

“Anything you want pretty.” Crawling off the bed you move to your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his boxers down his strong thighs. His already hard cock slaps against his stomach. There is something thrilling about doing all this while you’re being recorded. You take him in your hands, bring his red tip to your lips. You kitten lick the tip earning a groan from him. “Are you going to tease me baby?” You don’t respond you look up him with doe eyes as you take him as far in your mouth as he can go. His fingers tangled in your hair holding it back from your face.

“Fuck I love you mouth,” he moans as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head. You’ve always found joy in giving him head. You love the noises he’s makes and you like that you can read him like a book when you have him like this.

“Baby I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you don’t stop right now.” Pulling off you release him with a pop.

He stares down at you for a moment looking like he’s on the brink of insanity. He reaches down, helping you stand up. He drags thumb across your bottom lip, swiping some of his precum and your spit. Parting your lips he places his thumb in your mouth. Sucking gently as you stare at him.

“How do you want me?” You asked.

“I want you to spread out for me.”

Laying the bed still dressed in your crotchless panties, he's sitting back on his knees. He’s running his cock through your fold. You gasp as his bulbous head nudges your sensitive clit. “You’re so wet.”

“It’s always for you-“

He pushes into you slowly. “Spread your legs for me more,” he sighs.

The whole time he’s thrusting into you, he kisses his way across your skin. He sucks on your nipple earning a wanton moan.

The whole time you're filming his eyes never leave yours. He watches you with this loving stare. This isn’t some lust filled haze he normally has. When he finally pushes you over the edge you don’t think you have ever cum that hard in your life.

“Where did you want me to finish?” He asked if his thrust started to grow sloppier.

“Inside,” you beg.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he moans. He paints your walls white and he fills you with thick ropes of his cum. He stops moving and stares at you for a moment before saying “you’re so fucking perfect.”

He doesn’t realize that you think he’s your whole entire world.

Junhui finally has a day off and his one goal for the day was to spend time with you. He spent the night and loved being able to wake up in bed with you. You morning cuddle session turned into slow passionate morning sex where Junhui had you laying in your stomach with a pillow under your hips. He loved finding any position he can to fuck you from behind.

You’ve spent the day just enjoying each other's company. He planned on having a lazy night in, but forgot about the little gathering at Wonwoo and his girlfriend's place.

“Can you go with me to dinner at Wonwoo and honey’s place?” He says setting his phone down.

You glance up at him from your spot on the couch. “Sure who is all going?”

“Shau and kitten, Seungcheol and darling, Soonyoung and sweetie, Jihoon and ruby.”’ You realize instantly this is a dinner for most of the couples in the friend group.

“Hao and Hannie aren’t coming?”

“No, they are both busy.”

“Sure.”

Arriving at your friend's apartment you can’t help but feel a little strange that it’s all just couples. As the night goes on everyone is hanging out and you can’t help but focus on how each of the couples interact together. You’re reminded that from the outside looking in people must assume Junhui is your boyfriend. He’s spent most the night touching you in one way or another. Towards the end of the night you notice he’s kind of gone cold. He suddenly seems distant to everyone. He’s standing in the kitchen by himself getting a glass of wine water when you walk in.

“You okay Jun?”

He stares at you with his eyebrows knit together for a long moment before closing the distance between you. He cradles your face in his hands as he crashes his lips into yours.

“I want to get out of here,” he whispers against your lips.

“Okay we can leave.”

The car ride back to your place feels weird. Something seems off about him but you can’t figure out what.

Walking into your apartment the moment the door is shut he pushes you up against your wooden door. His finger tangles in your hair while he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. Pulling away from you for a moment he whispers your name before his hand roam your body. Pushing your dress off, he tugs on your underwear pulling them down your legs.

He seems like he’s desperate for you. Normally you would play along but you can’t figure out why this all feels so off.

His finger dip between your folds earning a moan. His eyes look empty as they stare at you for the first time. Suddenly it feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on you.

“Jun-“ you pause. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing- just- fuck-“ he seems destrought. He removes his hands from you and steps back. You pull your underwear backup as you wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“Can I ask you something?” He doesn’t say anything he just stares at you. “What are we?” This question has been eating you alive for days.

“We’re dating,” he tilts his head to the side, his eyes still seeming empty.

“Are we exclusive?” You feel like you’re crazy for the fact you have to have this conversation almost five months in.

“Of course we are.”

“Are you my boyfriend?” You know this label was what was driving you insane.

“Why are we having this conversation tonight?” He sighs.

“Because something is wrong and I feel like we need to talk about what is bothering both of us.”

“This is what’s bothering you?” He seems void of emotions.

“Yeah. I don’t understand what we are. I want you to be my boyfriend,” you feel like you’re on the verge of crying.

“It’s complicated,” he sighs.

“It shouldn’t be. You act like my boyfriend. Hell we literally got invited to couples night with your friends.”

“I have so much going on in my life and I can’t fully commit to being your boyfriend. Work is so much right for me. I don’t have time to fully commit to you.” That’s bullshit. He’s constantly spending time with you. You see him at least three times a week.

“I’m not asking for much. I like what we have. I just want to call you my boyfriend and not feel crazy for being in love with you.” Telling him you love him like this feels wrong. It makes your chest burn. You always hoped to hear him say it first to you.

“You love me?” He looks completely caught off guard by your statement.

“Why do you sound shocked?”

“I don’t know,”

“I don’t think you love me, and that’s okay. But I think if you can’t commit to me more, for my own self preservation I need to stop this. This-“ you point between the two of you. “Is just going to break my heart.”

“I’m trying so hard not to break your heart.”

“But you aren’t really trying,” tears slowly start to slide down your cheek. “If you were actually trying to work with me. I wouldn’t feel like I’m going through a fucking maze trying to figure out what’s got you so upset.” You push away your tears. “I don’t know why you’re so guarded, because you won’t ever tell me why you’re like this. I feel like I know you, but at the same time there are so many things about yourself you keep hidden from me. But I have fully let you in. I showed you parts of myself I have been terrified to show other people. I never hid my job from you, you’re the first person I fully never trusted anyone to see that side of me.” He just stares at you with his eyes brimming with tears. “From the beginning I’ve never liked anyone like I like you. I’ve always been yours to keep, but at the same time yours to lose.” The silence in the room is screaming. “I think you should probably head out.” You reach on the floor picking up your dress that he peeled off you. You walk away from the door.

He nods and steps away from you. The moment the front door shuts you can’t help but sob. He made it very clear he doesn’t love you, and now you feel crazy for ever falling for him.

You haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, and in that time you’ve only gone live once. It wasn’t a normal long stream you would do for at least an hour. This one was short, and after one orgasm you needed the live. The whole time you were on camera you could only think of Junhui and it was breaking your heart. It didn’t help that the chat was asking where your mystery man you called “baby” was.

Getting over a one-sided breakup hurts. It doesn’t help that you don’t exactly have a ton of friends that live in the city. You could call Kitten but you felt weird since she’s friends with Junhui too.

Laying in bed looking through your phone you see the only sex tape that you and him had made together. You know he said you could post for subscribers only page behind a paywall, but you never intended for anyone to see this video other than the two of you. You know you should delete it or just store it in your hidden folder and move on but for some reason you watch it. The loving looking in his eyes as he slowly rolls his hips into yours over and over again. Before you reach the end of the video when you fall apart moaning his name, you close your phone. There is once again that ache in your chest.

There is a knock on the door and you have no clue who could be at your door. Opening the door you weren’t expecting to see Minghao of all people on the other side. You have no clue why Junhui's roommate is at your door.

“Hi?” You’re confused on why he’s here.

“You know Junnie won’t tell me anything, but he’s been sulking around the apartment for over two weeks and when I asked about you he looked like he was fighting back tears.” You step aside and Minghao walks in.

You don’t respond to his statement, you instead ask, “Would you like tea?”

“Please.”

He sits at your kitchen table as you make two cups of tea. You place a cup in front of him and sit down across from him.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Junhui?” Minghao is probably the only of the few people in Junhui's friends that fully knows about your actual job.

“It’s complicated,” you sigh.

“I’m going to assume he’s the one that messed up,” he sighs before taking a sip of his tea.

“Hao, how would you explain to someone my relationship with him?” You’re curious to see what someone from the outside thinks of your relationship.

“You’re his girlfriend,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Turns out I wasn’t. Our relationship was odd. In my eyes he was my boyfriend, we were together all the time and he even took me on dates. Hell he even knew about my job and didn’t care.” You decided to leave out that he would film with you. “He would never fully commit though. He would dodge referring to me as his girlfriend. And when I asked him what we were, he just told me all the reasons he couldn’t be my boyfriend.”

Minghao takes a deep breath as he gives you a sympathetic look. “He got his heart broken really badly before you. She couldn’t take how busy he was with work. They dated for two years and one day she ended things saying that his job would always come first.”

“I don’t think he’s heartbroken this time. He made it clear he didn’t love me when I told him I loved him.”

He sets his cup down and has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean he doesn’t love you?”

“His response to my confession was, I’m trying really hard not to break your heart.”

“Fuck he’s dumb.”

“You know I let him see every part of me and never hid anything from him, and wouldn’t fully let me in.”

“Before you let go of him. Could you try talking to him one last time?”

“Minghao why? He’s not here trying to talk to me. You are?”

“Listen, he loves you and he wants more. He’s just scared.” He sighs. “He’s not as guarded as you think is.”

“You know he doesn’t talk about his family at all?”

“That’s because he’s has some issues with his family. It’s just him and his mom. His dad left when he was young. He works hard to help support his mom.”

“Why won’t he tell me this?” It hurts that he hasn’t tried to talk to you.

“I guess it’s his way of protecting himself.” He sighs standing up.

“He doesn’t have to protect himself when it comes to me.”

“You don’t have to do this, but maybe you should come by and see if he’ll talk to you.”

“He needs to come to me. I can’t put myself on the line anymore. I’m already hurt enough. If he wants to fix this he has to be the one to fix it.”

Minghao leaves, giving you a hug goodbye. You decide that night you need to let go of Wen Junhui.

Another week goes by before there is another knock on the door. You were getting ready to attempt to do a short stream. You threw on a robe fully covering your body.

Opening the door you’re surprised to see Junhui standing on the side. He’s dressed in his work clothes. He looks tired and there isn’t his normal light behind his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out before he sighs. “If you’re here to waste my time you can leave.”

“I’m not good at any of this stuff.”

“Clearly,” you retort.

“Can I come in so we can talk?”

Silently you step aside. He walks inside standing in the living room. You shut and lock the door. You can’t help but think about the last time you were together when he had you pressed up against it.

“It’s been a month,” you break the screaming silence.

“I know.”

“Junhui you broke my heart that day. What were you so in your head about that night. You seemed so cold at the party,” your eyes are already brimming with tears.

“I wish I could go back in time and change what happened that night.” He sighs leaning against the back of the couch.

“Why?”

“Because I fucked up and hurt you. I’m sorry I was so closed off and hurt you. That night I just watching us with all the couples confused me. I had always told myself I didn’t need a relationship like that that night just confused me. I thought I couldn’t give you what everyone else had.”

“I’ve felt like I did something wrong for an entire month. I thought that maybe the reason you’re so closed off is because of my job.” That little thought had been eating away at you for weeks.

He shakes his head. “Your job had nothing to do with this. It’s not your fault even the slightest. It’s not a good excuse but I got my heart broken by a girl I was with for years. She ended things because of how much I work. I know from the beginning you said you didn’t care that I was so busy, but I thought if I committed to more with you. That one day you would end it because I can’t always be there.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment. You step towards him. You stare at him for a long moment. You hate how sad he looks. “I’m not asking for you to be readily available to me twenty-four seven. I’m just asking for you to let yourself love me, and label what we have.” Reaching up, you rest your hand gently on his cheek. Your thumb slowly drags across his delicate skin. “I fell so incredibly hard for you, and you made me feel like I was insane for loving you.”

“You weren’t lying when you said you were mine to keep and mine to lose. I fell so hard for you too, and I was so scared that I was going to lose you.”

He looks like he’s about to cry. “I didn’t want to leave you. You pushed me away.”

“I don’t ever want to push you away again.”

“Let yourself love me then,” you sigh.

“I already do love you. I loved you when you kicked me out. I loved you every second we were apart. I still love you.”

The world suddenly feels like it’s spinning a little quicker. There’s nothing you can say in that moment. Leaning up you crash your lips into his for a heated kiss. Your arms are wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “I love you.”

Pulling back you can’t help but smile, “that’s good because I love you too.”

“I would like for you to be my girlfriend. I’m just asking that you’re patient with me.”

“I can be patient,” you can’t help the happy tears that are starting to fall.

“Work is going to be crazy for me sometime. But just know I might be busy, but I’m always thinking about you, and I’m going to try my hardest to make time for you.”

“All I’m asking for is for you to always try your hardest with me and I’ll do the same with you,” he pressed his lips gently to the side of your mouth.

“I’m assuming by your robe you were getting ready to film?” He gently tugs on the belt.

“Yeah but I can film tomorrow. Maybe tonight we could take a bath and just spend time together.”

“I would love that.”

You knew that things always wouldn’t be the easiest. But all that mattered was that he loved you, and you loved him with your whole heart. All the pieces feel like they’re all suddenly falling into place.

#jun #svt #smut

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whore-anghaereads · 7 months ago

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I love this song and that fucking line and ughhh this is giving me all sorts of feelings

Intentions | PJY

Park Jinyoung x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut. Semi-acquaintances. A crap load of unresolved sexual tension.

Warnings: swearing, mutual hand jobs, insinuated sex.

Words: 1k

Concept: What was that thing he said? That thing he said that got you there? There with his mouth on yours. In that empty room of that house party with a bunch of friends of friends just outside the door. Must’ve been good…

A/N: heavily based off the song, love by DEAN. have a listen then enjoy the kind-of ride.

→ gif by @demongyeom

Keep reading

#pjy #got7 #fave

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whore-anghaereads · 7 months ago

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Okkkk i’ve been obsessed with jinyoung since the got7 comeback like honestly he’s so fucking jacked and talented and biiig woof. But also not as talented as this author?? Lmao sooo hot and gentle and like he /would/ be a fucking paediatrician and not let u buy candy until halloween.

pushing buttons (m)

It was supposed to be a joke gift. Except you forget about it. And, in true Jinyoung fashion, he finds it (because of course he would), and waits until the worst (or best, depending on how you look at it) possible moment to use it against you. Pro tip: always tell your boyfriend about your sex toys. Or not, and let the consequences play out for themselves. (Also, don’t date a doctor unless you don’t mind the possibility of constant interruptions to your sex life.)

⤑ pairing: jinyoung / f!reader ⤑ genre: smut. also comedy (if you squint) if only for the fact that dr. park is constantly being interrupted 🤡🤡🤡🤡 ⤑ warnings: explicit smut, swearing, edging, overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), minor degradation (he calls the reader a sl*t once), minor asphyxiation, spanking. please do not read this if you are a minor. p l e a s e. ⤑ word count: 4.7k

⤑ note: HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to @pixienjoy who allowed me to edit a gif from this post, and to @papillonsgf, @jjpmoans, and @jinseunie for being absolute cheerleaders and letting me dump all my nerves about smut writing onto them ilysm 🥺 ⤑ this is the final fic in the GOT7CREATORS WRITERS’ ALL SINS WEEK collab - if you haven’t read the other fics in the collab, please check out the masterlist here to get to all of them! ⤑ also this is terrible i’m so sorry to anyone who’s been looking forward to this kjdlkjdlaklakdhflkahdlkad ⤑ update december 4, 2020: this has been moved into the “coming home” index, as the fic is set in the same universe, and features the same charaters. ⤑ update may 21, 2021: changed from jinyoung/oc to jinyoung/reader. i may have missed a few pronoun changes so let me know if you find any!

Keep reading

#jyp #the hot one tho #got7

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whore-anghaereads · 7 months ago

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Omg omg omg omgomgomgomg. Ty to Nova for always giving us what we didn’t know we needed. Ok v hot !! I love jungwoo being the supportive bestie and the boys being so gracious to share.

send in the clowns

🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark & Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

tw/cw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k

🍭 aus. Halloween, frat au, friends to lovers, Joker!Jae, Buggy!Mark, Pennywise!Hyuck, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm not sure I can even explain this one tbh

1: Mark

Mark loves drunk karaoke nights. He loves the way the alcohol calms him down, making his skin tingle and his lids feel heavy. He loves how easy it is to smile and laugh while his friends make fools of themselves. He loves watching Hyuck and Jungwoo be silly goofy chaos demons, choosing duets and ballads that make them sink to their knees and belt out songs so loud that they get noise complaints from other frat boys walking by their room. But most of all, Mark loves watching you sing, watching your hips sway to the music as you lose yourself in the energy.

It has taken a year of being friends with you before you opened up and started really relaxing with Mark and his frat brothers. Mark has enjoyed every moment of watching you bloom into the flower you are now. He’d thought you were cute when you first met, but these days, he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever had the pleasure of getting to know.

He feels downright lucky, sitting on his bed, a beer in his hand, watching you stumble your way through a rap verse. Karaoke is never about being good at singing, although, Hyuck does often get a one-hundred-point score and boasts about it by running down the halls declaring himself the best singer in the frat.

No, drunk karaoke is simply about friendship. It’s about the way Mark feels able to be truly himself when he’s with you, his roommate Hyuck, and his two other frat brothers Jaehyun and Jungwoo. You’re a fivesome Mark had never expected to feel so at home with, but now, he couldn’t imagine anything else.

It’s getting late, and your energy is rapidly deteriorating, especially as you finish up your song and collapse next to Mark on his bed. He knows you well enough to see that when Hyuck and Jungwoo complete their next duet, you’ll be heading back to your apartment across campus.

Mark does his best to appreciate the time he has left with you, scooting closer so your thighs are just touching. He offers you his beer but you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath from the excitement of getting a score of ninety-eight.

In the confines of Hyuck and Mark’s small room, the two most extroverted of the fivesome pour their hearts out into ‘Greased Lightning,’ complete with flamboyant choreography and more giggling than Mark’s tired abdomen can even handle.

Even Jaehyun is laughing, standing by the window with a joint. His cheeks are flushed red, ears matching, and Mark swears he’s never seen Jaehyun as free as he is during nights like this.

As the song finishes up, you let out a deep sigh, standing. “I should really be headed home.”

Mark rises to his feet, pulling you into a hug that never lasts long enough. “Thanks for coming,” he murmurs, offering you a small smile as he does his best to conceal just how much he enjoys your company.

“You guys know I never miss karaoke night,” you grin, sending him a wink before you head over to hug Jaehyun.

Mark watches the way his hyung’s eyes close as he holds you, his embrace lingering around your smaller form.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Jae,” you nod, pulling away before your gaze shifts to Hyuck. “And I’ll see you and Mark at the Halloween party tomorrow night.”

“Not if we see you first,” Hyuck teases, pulling you into a hug that looks a little too tight for Mark’s liking.

“God, you’re such clowns,” you laugh, pushing at Hyuck’s shoulders to prompt him to release you.

“Is that a song request?” Mark’s roommate asks, jumping on the chance to sing another. “I would crush Sinatra’s ‘Send In The Clowns.’”

You simply roll your eyes, going to join Jungwoo at the door. “Goodnight, guys.”

Jungwoo has been your longest-standing friend since first year. He’s the one who introduced you to Mark, Hyuck and Jaehyun. He’s probably the only person in the room who doesn’t want to fuck you, and he’s the one you always walk home with- leaving the frats at night can be dangerous for a pretty girl like you, and your six-foot golden retriever bestie always insists on making sure you get back to your apartment safe.

With one last goodbye, you leave, and there’s a noticeable shift in the energy of the room. All three men let out small sighs, and Jaehyun turns to the window, clearly intent on watching you walk away.

Hyuck, meanwhile, collapses onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “She’s great.”

“She is,” Mark agrees, sipping his beer.

“You know, I’ve got a great idea,” Hyuck says dreamily.

“Let's hear it,” Jaehyun sighs, biting the bait while still looking out the window.

“I’m thinking- now don’t immediately shut this down, but I’m definitely thinking Halloween orgy.”

Mark chokes on his beer, sputtering and trying to clear his throat.

“Jesus, Mark, don’t die-” Hyuck sits up, staring at him while Jaehyun simply shakes his head with a smile. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, but why are you serious?” Mark asks, swallowing thickly. “Why do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Not just a good idea, a great one,” Hyuck smirks. “Listen, we’ve all been into her for ages, and what's the one thing stopping us from making a move? Each other.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the only thing stopping us,” Jaehyun muses.

“She wants us,” Hyuck states.

“She does?” This is news to Mark.

“A hundred percent… like my karaoke score. I’m sure of it.” Hyuck nods to himself. “It’s in the body language.”

Jaehyun turns away from the window to asses Hyuck, crossing his arms over his chest. “What body language?”

“Just trust me.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No.”

“Your loss, don’t join the orgy, Mark and I will show her a good time,” Hyuck’s eyes shift to the Canadian, “Won’t we, Mark?”

Mark’s throat goes dry. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this scenario. As roommates and best friends, he and Hyuck have shared girls before- this wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary…

“I mean…” Mark sighs.

“You’re both crazy,” Jaehyun insists.

Hyuck scoffs loudly. “As if you don’t want to join!”

“I’m not saying I don’t, I’m just pointing out that there are multiple reasons none of us have taken a shot at her.” Mark appreciates Jaehyun’s level-headed thinking, it’s a sharp contrast to Hyuck’s chaos. The Hyung in the room is good at voicing what Mark isn’t able to. “If she’s not interested, you’ll ruin karaoke night. You’ll ruin the friendship. If she is interested, who’s to say she wants all of us? Most girls are monogamous- who’s to say she’d even want to be part of an orgy with three guys? Who’s to say we could all actually handle sharing, given who she is to us? Hyuck, can you honestly say you wouldn’t get jealous watching her suck Mark off?”

“Not if I was balls deep in her pussy,” Hyuck grins.

Jaehyun only sighs, rolling his eyes and shifting his attention out the window again. “This is a bad idea.”

2 : Jae

The only class Jaehyun arrives early to is the one he shares with you. He can’t help the feeling that rushes through him as he takes the amphitheater-style stairs two at a time, joining you in your seats at the back of the massive class.

“Hey you,” you grin, already turning in your seat to smile at him.

“Hey.” He puts his bag down, also angling to look at you. “How’s it going?”

“Going good,” you nod, taking in his onesie. It’s Halloween, so you’d both agreed to come in Pokemon outfits, and Jaehyun feels a lot more comfortable than a few other students in more restrictive costume attire. “You look good as Charmander.”

“Thanks, Pikachu.” God, he likes you way too much. Sometimes it’s hard to tear his gaze away from you, hard to make conversation instead of just staring at your lips. “You know, I’m a little surprised you actually came as a Pokemon.”

“What?” You cock your head to the side. “Why? We promised we would!”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun shrugs. “I know you have that thing about clowns, guess I thought maybe you’d come as one today.”

“My thing about clowns,” you laugh, “says the clown.” You reach over, squishing his cheek, and it makes Jaehyun grin so hard it almost hurts.

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

You sigh. “Okay, you’re not. I like clowns a weird amount. But everyone has their kinks right?”

“I’ve always wondered what you like about clowns.”

You stare at him and Jaehyun leans back in his seat. He waits for you to elaborate, reaching up to play with the rim of his baseball cap.

“Honestly?” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know, there’s just something about the smile makeup maybe? The crazy aspect? I just feel like, when people dress up as clowns, it’s about having a good time. They can’t judge you because they’re the clown- it’s kind of freeing, a nice freeing energy, if that makes any sense.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jaehyun admits.

“Can I be extra honest with you about something?” you ask, scooting your chair closer and lowering your voice.

“Of course.” Jaehyun also moves closer, his knee butting against yours. You look so pretty, especially up close. There’s no way the Pikachu onesie should be hot, but you’ve gotten the buttons undone just enough that he can take a peek down at your bra at this short distance, and it makes him swallow thickly, trying to get a hold of himself.

“I’m this close,” you hold up two fingers almost touching, “to fucking anyone dressed as a clown at the frat party tonight.”

Jaehyun’s heart lurches abruptly in his chest. His mouth goes dry and his palms feel sweaty. He can only blink at you for a moment before he’s able to find his voice again. “R-really?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, looking absolutely determined.

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers, forcing his gaze forward. He has no idea how to play this situation- no idea how to act nonchalant about this. Jaehyun prides himself in being good in any situation, his technique is staying calm through breathing, but he can hardly take a breath right now.

“Do you know anyone planning on dressing as a clown?” you ask.

“Uh…” he licks his lips, mind still reeling. “Maybe a couple of the guys.”

It’s a lie, and he feels bad saying it… but at the same time, he doesn’t want to shut the door on this opportunity. He knows at least two men who would dress as a clown at the drop of the hat upon hearing this information- and Jaehyun is quick to wonder if he could somehow go to the party as a clown without it being glaringly obvious that he wants to fuck you stupid.

“What did you say you’re going as again?”

Jaehyun can hardly look at you. “I uh… hadn’t really decided yet.”

“Okay, Mister Secrets,” you tease. “Don’t tell me, I’ll find out tonight.”

The teacher enters the class, and Jaehyun shifts in his chair, trying to focus.

It’s impossible to get what you’ve just said out of his head. In the corners of his mind, Jaehyun almost feels like it had been a challenge. He thinks about what Hyuck had said, about your body language- had this been you dropping a hint?

Do you want him to fuck you?

3 : Hyuck

“Excuse me,” Ten’s voice makes Hyuck freeze, “what, exactly, are you doing?”

Hyuck and Mark slowly turn toward the angry frat boy standing at the door of his room. Ten looks pissed- and he has every right to be.

Hyuck can see Mark open his mouth in the periphery of his vision, and it causes him to grab his friend's arm to silence him. “There you are!” Hyuck exclaims. “We were looking all over for you!”

Ten’s not convinced, and he raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your charm doesn’t work on me, Haechan. What are you two doing with my makeup?”

“Oh, this?” Hyuck looks down at the eye shadow pallet in his hands. “Funny story actually-”

Ten scoffs loudly. “Spit it out.”

“We need to borrow some makeup,” Mark states. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“You know, out of all the guys who could be stealing my eye shadow set, I never expected it to be you two losers.”

“We’ve got a very good explanation for this-” Hyuck begins, only for Mark to cut him off.

“We’re trying to be clowns for Halloween.”

“As if you need any makeup for that, you’re both already clowns,” Ten sasses. “Besides, I thought you guys were going to the party as superheroes or something.”

“We changed our minds,” Hyuck says simply.

“As if,” another eye roll from Ten. “What’s the real reason?”

“Well, y/n has this thing for clowns-” Mark mumbles.

“I should have known this was about y/n,” Ten sighs. “But wait, you’re both going to dress up as clowns and try to what? Fuck her on Halloween?”

“Well, Jae said that y/n said she’d fuck someone dressed as a clown tonight-”

Hyuck groans. Mark needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

“So we’re talking about a full-on clown orgy?” Ten asks, and shockingly enough, as disgusted as he looks, he also seems almost impressed. “You two, Jae and y/n?”

“Jae might not join,” Hyuck is quick to point out, and in the corners of his mind, he sort of hopes he doesn’t. It will be annoying enough as it is vying with Mark for your attention, let alone Jaehyun too.

“Jae will a hundred percent be joining,” Ten sighs. “If you can convince her, that is.”

“What makes you so sure?” Mark asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Have you seen the way that guy looks at her? He’s whipped. But I guess all three of you look at her that way, maybe you don’t notice your friends doing the same thing.” Ten approaches them, taking the eyeshadow pallet from Hyuck. “I’ll help you with clown makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’ll have to do it right.”

“Really?” Mark beams. “Thank you!”

“You run and get Jaehyun, and I’ll start on Hyuck,” Ten says, looking his target up and down. “We’ll also have to decide which clowns you three are going as.”

“Can’t we just be generic clowns?” Hyuck asks, allowing Ten to lead him to sit on the bed.

The man from Thailand scoffs. “As if a ten out of ten like y/n is going to fuck just any clown, you three have to be recognizable.”

“Who do you have in mind?”

Ten grins slyly, reaching for his makeup kit. “I can think of a few clowns that girls wanna bang.”

4 : Jungwoo

“Hey Ten, I’m here for my…” Jungwoo pauses in the doorway, the word “glitter” leaving his lips as an afterthought while he stares at the scene in front of him.

Jaehyun is leaning by the window, a joint between his fingers. His purple outfit is jokeresque, but it’s his makeup that makes it clear who he is. With a white face, a jagged red overdrawn smile and dark eyes, he looks as stunning as Heath Ledger did in the role, but prettier, which isn’t that much of a shock considering this is Jaehyun.

Hyuck, meanwhile, is in a white shirt and jeans, his face done up in a matching cream shade. His nose and smile are red, with the colour on his lips curving up as slits through his eyes. His hair isn’t orange, just its normal shade of brown, but he’s a dead ringer for Pennywise, even without a good costume.

Mark, meanwhile, is sitting on the bed. He’s not a clown that Jungwoo recognizes, especially not as Ten combs blue temporary dye through his bleach blonde hair. There’s something like white crossbones across his forehead, and he has the messiest red patch around his mouth, with blue slashes through his eyebrows and eyelids-

“Who is Mark supposed to be?” Jungwoo can’t help but ask, staring at his friend in confusion.

“I told you no one would know who I am!” Mark groans loudly, looking up at Ten.

“Do any of you even watch anime?” Ten sighs. “He’s Buggy The Clown from One Piece, there’s even a live-action of it on Netflix that came out two months ago- I swear, do you all live under a rock? I promise, if y/n actually likes clowns, she’ll know who Mark is.”

Ten’s words make Jungwoo realize what’s happening, and he lets out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest while he stares at his karaoke friends. “So that’s what this is about.”

“She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist.

He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns.

And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

5 : Barbie

The first words that Jungwoo says to you when he meets you outside the frat are, “You’re going to die.”

“What do you mean?” you laugh, linking your arm with his as he helps you up the house steps, being mindful of your sparkly heels.

“Just wait till you see, I don’t want to spoil it for you,” your best friend grins.

“Did one of our boys dress up as a clown?” you ask, skin tingling at the prospect.

“Something like that.”

“Two?” Your heart is already beginning to thunder in your ribcage.

“I told you, I’m not telling!” The two of you enter the large frat living room and makeshift dance floor. Your eyes immediately scan the location, looking for clowns.

At first, you almost miss Mark, but as your gaze narrows in on the blue hair you realize your first clown is none other than your favorite Canadian. “That’s Mark?” you ask in shock, looking him up and down from twenty feet away.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be Muggy or something-”

“Buggy,” you correct.

“At least you know what the fuck his costume is,” Jungwoo sighs.

“That’s such an odd choice for him- I didn’t know any of you even watched One Piece.”

“Ten suggested it I think,” Jungwoo admits.

“That’s why he looks so good!”

“I mean…” your best friend gives you some major side eye, “if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Then you notice who’s standing next to Mark. his back had been to you, but as he turns and scans the crowd, you catch Pennywise makeup and you practically shiver at the realization that it’s Hyuck.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, clinging to Jungwoo even tighter. “I got roommates.”

“You’re so weird,” Jungwoo laughs. “Wait, I uh… think someone wants to talk to you.” Your friend is looking over your shoulder, and when you turn, you find Jaehyun standing there.

He looks as awkward as you’ve ever seen him, decked out as The Joker.

You can’t believe it.

You’re three for three.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “You look good.”

He’s scanning your Barbie costume, and you notice the way he tries to skip over your breasts… and fails.

“You look good too,” you grin, already feeling a little overwhelmed with how many clowns are at the party.

“I mean…” Jaehyun swallows thickly, “You said you like clowns-”

“I said more than that,” you tease.

“Okay, I’m getting a drink,” Jungwoo announces, unlinking your arms. “Have fun.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to,” you grin, watching him dart away before you turn your attention back to Jaehyun. You open your mouth, intent on flirting- on getting down to the business at hand, but before you can, someone grabs your forearm and you find Hyuck standing there.

He looks out of breath, and you realize he must have just run through the crowd to get to you, with Mark still trailing behind him by a few feet.

“You’re here!” Hyuck smirks. When he looks you up and down, he doesn’t bother hiding his attraction to you. “Nice dress.”

“Nice makeup,” you laugh, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

“Well, we all know you’re a sucker for clowns.” It feels like a perfectly harmless statement, but by the way Hyuck’s smile widens, you can see the innuendo behind his words and it makes your stomach tie into knots. “Come on, Barbie,” his hand slips from your forearm to your wrist, and he tugs gently, “dance with us.”

Your gaze shifts back at Jaehyun, he looks like he wants to say something- but you find yourself being dragged into the crowd.

Hyuck positions himself behind you, and Mark slots in front, hands finding your hips to steady you amongst the moving sea of bodies. “Hi,” he says, leaning in so you can hear him over the music.

“Hi, Buggy,” you grin, taking in the details of his makeup. Ten really did a number on him- you’ll have to thank him some time for making your dreams come true.

“Thank God you know who I am,” Mark laughs, relief flooding his clowny features.

Hyuck presses his body against your back, hands slipping around your waist- his breath on the nape of your neck cuts off any words you’d planned on saying to Mark, and it must be clear, because he leans in again, “Is this okay?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah, I think- I think I’m just surprised.”

“Why are you surprised?” Hyuck asks, his voice hoarse as you rub your ass back against him.

“I mean- when I told Jaehyun I wanted to fuck a clown tonight, I expected one of you, maybe two, but not all three,” you admit.

“You can take all of us,” Hyuck says smoothly.

“If you want to,” Mark corrects.

“Do you all want to?” you ask. “You’re not going to make me choose?”

“Mark and I are used to sharing,” Hyuck informs you. “I’m not sure about Jae.”

All three of you turn to look at the joker still standing off the dance floor, his gaze is fixed on you- God, it feels good to be pressed between Mark and Hyuck while Jaehyun watches.

“How long…” Mark leans close again, and his lips brush over your ear, “How long have you known we’re all into you.”

“You’re not great at hiding it, Mark,” you laugh.

“And you really don’t have a favorite?” he asks, pulling away to look you deep in your eyes.

“Do I seem like I have a favorite?” you counter.

“It’s obviously me,” Hyuck says loudly, pulling you back even tighter. “I’m everyone’s favourite.”

Mark ignores Hyuck, his gaze dipping down to your lips then back up. Even in a sea of bodies, with Hyuck rubbing against your ass, something about being pressed to Mark’s chest while he stares at you like this feels intimate. He’s so pretty, especially with the clown makeup and the blue hair- it gives him this dangerous edge, but below the layers of red, white and blue, this is still Mark, one of the softest men you’ve ever met.

You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, reaching for Mark’s shoulders-

He practically smashes his mouth against yours, and you realize how eager he is by the way his tongue immediately swipes a lick at your lower lip. His fingers dig into your hips, tugging you closer and away from Hyuck-

A second mouth finds your skin, with Hyuck groaning against your throat. The sensation makes a shiver run through you, and you part your lips for Mark, who dips his tongue inside.

You truly can’t believe your luck tonight. As you cling tighter to Mark, enjoying Hyuck’s rough hands on your body, you almost forget about Jaehyun- but as soon as he pops in your mind, you pull away from the roommates, turning to look for your Joker.

He’s no longer standing by the dance floor, he’s walking away, and your heart lurches in your chest.

“Jae-” you say, tugging away from Mark and Hyuck to chase after your favorite classmate. If you’re being really honest with yourself- you’d told Jae about wanting to fuck a clown because out of all three, he’s the one you could see yourself really going the distance with.

Jaehyun has two years on Mark, and three on Hyuck- he’s the most mature of the three karaoke fratboys you’ve been thirsting over. There’s something about him that’s always made you feel calm- in contrast to the chaos Hyuck brings, and the warm fuzzies Mark gives you.

You like them all in different ways, you suppose, and you can’t stand the idea of losing even one of them from your hook tonight.

“Jae!” you call again, louder this time as you follow him- catching up just as he makes it to the stairwell door. He turns to look at you, and you blink. “Where are you going?”

“Needed a stronger drink,” he muses, scanning your face. “You’ve got a little something, here-” he reaches, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb over your lips, “And here,” his fingers smooth across your neck.

“Oh-” you go to wipe at your skin, only to find white and red makeup on your hand.

Mark and Hyuck have just caught up to you, and when you turn, you see their makeup all smudged around their mouths. God, you hadn’t thought about actually fucking a guy in clown paint- this is going to be messier than it already will be fucking three men.

“What’s going on?” Mark asks, looking worried.

“Just getting another drink,” Jae sighs, pulling his hand away from you.

“Can we come?” you question.

“Sure.” Jaehyun reaches down and interlocks your fingers, guiding you up the stairwell while Hyuck and Mark lurch to follow.

You can hear them, two steps behind you, but two becomes four, and they begin to whisper. You makeout the words “serious,” “fucked,” “crazy,” and “sober.” it sounds like an intense conversation, but your mind is more pleasantly occupied thinking about Jaehyun and the way he’s holding your hand.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you ask.

“I was.”

“Looked like you wanted to say something to me earlier,” you point out.

“Maybe I did. It’s out of my head now.”

You’re not sure you believe him, but you don’t press Jaehyun as you make it to his floor. He’s roommates with Jungwoo, and you know the route to their little shared room like the back of your hand. When you get to the door, Jaehyun takes out his key to unlock it before allowing you inside first.

You head toward the shelf they keep their booze, rifling through it for your drink of choice while Jaehyun comes to stand next to you, grabbing the Whiskey.

“How much are you two planning on drinking tonight?” Mark’s voice makes both you and Jaehyun turn to stare at the Canadian.

He looks serious, but it’s hard to take him seriously while dresses as Buggy the Clown.

“Excuse me?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh.

“I uh…” Mark shuffles awkwardly as Hyuck closes the door behind them, locking you into Jaehyun’s room with your three clowns. “I just… are you two planning on getting drunk or…?”

“I just want a shot,” you explain, finding a tiny glass to fill.

“And I’m just doing a double,” Jaehyun says, pouring whiskey into his red solo cup.

“Since when are you two all about being sober?” you ask, lifting your gaze to assess the two clowns by the door while you raise your glass to your lips.

“We’re usually not,” Mark admits-

“But tonight, we have a good reason to be,” Hyuck finishes.

“Yeah?” Jaehyun sips his drink. “And what reason is that?”

“Well…” Mark’s ears are turning red, and it’s a funny contrast to his blue hair.

“Let’s not play around,” Hyuck sighs. “We all know why we’re here.”

All their eyes shift to you, and you quickly take your shot, grimacing at the taste. “Someone better spit it out,” you prompt, although, you already know where this is going. Mark and Hyuck had already broached the subject with you on the dance floor.

“Fine, I’ll just say it,” Hyuck throws his hands up in defeat. “Clown orgy.”

You let out a small laugh. “Clown orgy?”

“A foursome,” he clarifies. “You told Jaehyun you’d fuck someone dressed as a clown tonight, and you’ve got us three here, in a room, with the door locked. So let’s do this. Don’t pretend you weren’t ready to take your panties off on the dancefloor five minutes ago.”

“We have to talk about this first,” you sigh, looking over at Jaehyun. “They’ve already said they’d be up for it, but I don’t know how you feel yet.”

“I don’t really know how I feel either,” Jaehyun admits, taking another larger swig of his drink.

“Maybe we need some ground rules?” you suggest.

“That would be nice,” Mark nods.

You take a deep breath, knowing what you want to say. “The first rule should be that no matter what happens tonight, we should stay friends. I don’t want to give up karaoke night or make things weird just because I’m attracted to all three of you.”

“That’s fair,” Jaehyun agrees. “What else?”

You consider it for a moment. Part of you wants to say no marking, but at the same time, you kind of hope they leave their brand on you- you want a reminder of tonight, however fleeting, signs of teeth grazing your skin, of hands on your ass and around your throat-

“This isn’t really a rule but uh…” you swallow thickly, “I mean… I’ve told you guys before that none of the dudes I’ve slept with have ever made me cum.”

“Wait,” Hyuck’s smile drops. “Are you for real? I always thought that was a joke.”

“I’m being dead serious,” you admit, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment. “But I can make myself cum, so I know my body can get there-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hyuck shakes his head, reaching out to put his hand over your mouth. “You’re telling us, that no guy has ever made you cum before?”

You nod.

Hyuck’s hand stays fixed over your lips and he simply stares at you for a few moments. You see Jaehyun and Mark exchange a look.

“Well, that changes tonight.” Hyuck’s hand drops to his side. “Get on the bed and show us how you like it.”

“Will you please get on the bed and show us what you like so we can learn your body better,” Mark corrects, flashing Hyuck a look that says ‘be gentle.’

“You guys want me to… touch myself in front of you?”

“Here,” Jaehyun moves to his bed, sitting against the headboard and spreading his thighs, patting the spot between them. “Come sit with me.”

You’re hesitant at first, but after taking a deep breath you move to join him, watching as he sets his drink down on the bedside table, giving you his full attention. You slip out of your heels, joining him without another thought.

It’s a little odd to sit back against Jaehyun’s warm chest. Even though you hug him often, this position isn’t one you’ve experienced with him- and the promise of what’s to come is heavy on your mind.

“Are you okay with this?” Jaehyun asks, his breath hot on the nape of your neck while you settle.

You nod, licking your lips as your gaze shifts to Mark and Hyuck. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“If you want to stop, just tell us,” Jaehyun says softly. You feel him move closer, and then his lips are pressing to the side of your throat.

Your body reacts, a deep sigh escaping you as you tilt your head, giving Jaehyun more space while leaning back into his embrace. He’s so gentle, and it sets your skin alight with pleasurable tingles. His hands smooth down your bare arms, and when he smiles, you think it’s because he can feel your goosebumps.

“You’re sensitive, huh?” Hyuck asks, coming to sit on the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on you and Jaehyun.

“Very,” you admit.

Mark is staring at your chest, and when you look down, you find that your nipples have hardened. Your dress has a somewhat built in bra, so you hadn’t bothered with another layer, but now, your sensitive buds are pushing through the fabric, betraying just how much you’re enjoying Jaehyun’s touch.

Your legs are closed, but soon, Jaehyun’s hands are slipping down to your thighs, gently prompting you to spread yourself for the awaiting eyes of the younger frat boys at the foot of the bed. Hyuck and Mark are like dogs with their gaze focused on their favourite toy, Hyuck even licks his lips, staring at you with pupils blown from lust.

You’ve never seen clowns look this serious.

“Are you going to touch yourself for us, barbie? Or do you want me to do it for you?” Jaehyun asks, his lips teasing past your throat with each word.

“I can…” You swallow thickly, “I can show you, but… You’ll take over soon, right?”

“Anything you want,” he assures you.

You want them, and it’s taking every ounce of self control to stay focused on what Hyuck had asked you to do. You suppose there’s a good reason to show them what you like first, and you hope that by doing this, it will only build the tension. When you all finally snap, something tells you that these next few minutes will make a difference in how well they please you.

Your hand is shaky as you bring it to your core, panties exposed by the dress you’re wearing, which has slid up to reveal most of your subtle thighs. When you drag your fingers over your panty covered core, you find a wet patch, and it makes you bite at your lip, stifling a whimper.

“How’s it feel?” Mark asks. When you look up, you find he’s assessing your face, watching you carefully. You realize he’s actually concerned for you, and it only makes you wetter.

“Feels good,” you tell him, rubbing small circles over your clit while relaxing back against Jaehyun’s chest.

The clown behind you has his hands on your thighs, but they shift up, to your hips, then your rib cage- you release a breathy moan when he cups your boobs, thumbs stroking over your nipples. Jaehyun’s lips are on your neck again, and each swipe of his tongue has your core practically throbbing.

You close your eyes, leaning back against Jaehyun, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub yourself even harder. Your knees are bent, feet flat on the bed, and you can’t help the way your hips buck toward your hand.

“Are you close already?” Hyuck asks, and you can pretty much hear him smirking.

You can only nod, focusing on the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. It’s incredibly erotic to be touching yourself while pressed to Jaehyun’s strong chest, to have Mark and Hyuck watching you-

The man behind you pinches your nipples through your dress and you cry out, core pulsing desperately. “Please,” you whimper, although, at this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

Jaehyun’s hand slips down to join your own, cupping your smaller fingers and applying more pressure, helping you work your clit closer and closer to an orgasm-

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hips bucking toward his hand.

His mouth is hot on your neck, his other hand still worshiping your breast. It feels absolutely amazing- this is a position you’ve never been in before. You can feel Jaehyun’s cock straining against the small of your back, but he’s entirely focused on you. Your pleasure is what matters most, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” You can’t even finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you like warm waves, pussy clamping down on nothing, convulsing desperately-

Something moves on the bed. All of the sudden your hand is being pushed away. Your panties are slipped to the side, and you open your eyes to see Mark laying between your thighs, his face pressing up to your pussy so he can lick a stripe at your wet folds. You release a strangled whimper when his tongue flicks by your sensitive clit, your walls still fluttering around nothing.

“Mark-” you whisper, reaching down to tangle your hand in his blue hair. You pull him even closer, shifting and opening your thighs wider for the man that begins to devour you. He licks up every drop of your orgasm, moaning loudly when his tongue dips in to stroke your weakly convulsing walls.

One orgasm has just dwindled out, but it’s clear Mark has the intention of giving you another.

Jaehyun’s hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently at first, but when you grab his forearm, prompting him to go harder, he concedes. His fingers press on either side of your neck, impeding blood flow and making your head even dizzier.

Mark’s lips suction around your clit, and your body practically short circuits. You tighten your grip in his hair, making him groan, and the vibration through your clit has your legs shaking.

“You gonna cum again?” Hyuck asks, watching you from the foot of the bed. “Markie’s good with his mouth, isn’t he, barbie?”

“So good,” you whimper, grinding against Mark’s face as he brings you closer and closer to the edge with shocking speed.

Mark’s tongue circles your clit, tiny circles, like you’d done with your fingers. His pace is increasing, like yours had- He’d really taken what you’d shown them about your pleasure, and learned it.

Jaehyun’s still gripping your throat, swallowing is hard, but everything feels so good.

Mark wraps his hands around your thighs and he pulls you further down the bed. Your head is now resting against Jaehyun’s chest, and he lets up on your neck, opting to grab your breasts. He pushes your dress down just far enough to release your sensitive nipples, and then he captures them between his fingers.

Jaehyun’s hips rut ever so slightly, his hard length dragging between your shoulder blades while you wiggle against him. Mark’s tongue dips into your pussy, nose rubbing your clit-

“Please-”

The clown between your thighs wraps his lips around your sensitive bud again, sucking as harshly as ever, and it’s the last bit of stimulus you need to fall over the edge.

You throw your head back against Jaehyun’s chest, eyes clenched shut. Your legs try to close around Mark but he holds them open, lewly lapping you through your high while you struggle and cry from how much pleasure is coursing through you.

Your abdomen almost hurts from how intense your orgasm is, and each convulsion of your walls reminds you how painfully empty you are. With three cocks in the room, you can’t believe you’ve already cum twice without being stuffed-

Can’t believe Mark made you cum with his mouth alone.

Your friends really know what they’re doing- and it’s a shock that Mark Lee, the sweetest boy you know, is an absolute menace with his tongue.

As you come down from your high, Mark pulls away from your pussy. You’re panting hard, and you look at him from under heavy lids. His makeup is a complete mess, and when you gaze down between your legs, you find your inner thighs coated in red, white and blue.

You can’t even bring yourself to care.

“So who are you fucking first, barbie?” Hyuck asks nonchalantly.

You swallow thickly, mind racing.

Mark’s the first guy to really make you cum, and your gaze shifts to him. You feel bad not choosing Jae, who is practically throbbing at your back, but Mark looks just as uncomfortable in his pants.

You don’t even have to say his name, it’s obvious who your choice is, and Hyuck sighs loudly.

“But…” you lick your lips, turning in Jaehyun’s embrace to meet his gaze, “I want you in my mouth too.”

He cups your jaw, kissing you for the first time. The only thing gentle about this is his hand on your face, but the kiss is hungry. His tongue invades you, and you shift in his arms, turning to face him. You’re on your knees, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while you press your chests together, needing to be closer to him.

His hands smooth down to your hips, and then you feel another set on your skin, pushing your dress up to your waist. Someone rubs against your pussy, then fingers hook in your panties to drag them down to your knees.

“Condoms?” Mark asks.

You break your kiss from Jaehyun to shake your head, his lips eager against your cheek and throat. “I’ve got birth control, and I’m clean- are you guys all clean?”

“Dirty minds, clean cocks,” Hyuck assures you distantly.

“Good,” you groan, reaching down to grasp Jaehyun’s thick length through his jeans. He groans loudly against your throat.

Mark’s hand smooths against your back, and then you feel his bare cock at your enterance, teasing up and down your slit. He bumps by your clit and your legs shake with anticipation. “You’re dripping,” Mark tells you.

“So fuck me?” you suggest, feeling daring, and very needy. You’re tired of waiting, tired of pretending you don’t want to be split open on multiple fronts.

“Shit,” Jaehyun groans, pulling away from you so he can sit up on his knees, hands moving to his belt buckle.

Mark slips the tip of his cock into your tight hole and you both groan at how easy it is. Your walls flutter around him as he pushes deeper and deeper, until his hips are flush with your ass. “Oh my God,” Mark practically whimpers, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so fucking good.”

Mark’s not the biggest cock you’ve ever had, but it fits just right inside of you. As he begins to thrust into you, his balls start to smack against your clit, which is still extremely sensitive from two orgasms. Your toes curl, and you practically begin to drool as Jaehyun finally gets his own dick out, immediately presenting it to you.

You waste no time wrapping a hand around him and bringing him to your mouth. You lick a stripe along the underside, earning a groan from the man above you, and when you wrap your lips around him, Jaehyun actually shivers.

“Holy shit, you look so good like this,” he tells you, reaching down to cup your head.

Mark thrusts particularly hard behind you, and it sends your mouth further onto Jaehyun’s cock, your throat clenching as he hits the back of it.

“Fuck-” Jaehyun groans, tightening his grip on your hair.

You’ve never been spitroasted, never been in an Eiffel tower, but God, it feels good.

Mark’s pace is building, his moans and whimpers like music to your ears while you try to focus half your attention on sucking off Jaehyun-

“Are you into anal?”

Of course Hyuck’s not about to just sit this out, and his question makes you groan. Jaehyun pulls you off his cock, watching intently as a string of saliva keeps your mouth connected to his throbbing length. You swallow thickly, licking your lips before you can answer. “I’ve never tried it,” you admit.

“We should try it tonight,” Hyuck insists. “Lots of girls cum super hard from a bit of anal.”

At this point, you’d agree to anything they suggest. It’s clear that the three men fucking you know what women like, and you’re willing to give yourself completely to them.

“Anything you want,” you say, voice shaky as you bring your lips back to Jaehyun’s cock, sinking down on him again.

“Fuck,” Mark groans loudly behind you. One of his hands moves from your hips, and then you feel a lubed up thumb begin to circle your other hole. Your pussy clenches tight around Mark, and he lets out another sound of appreciation. “Relax, barbie,” he tells you. “It will be better if you relax.”

You do your best to relax your entire body, and it prompts Jaehyun to begin fucking your face now that your throat is more open. Mark’s thrusts have slowed down a little, his attention transferred to the thumb teasing your virgin hole.

You whimper as he presses the tip of his digit inside of you, working you open. It’s a foreign feeling, but as he begins to stimulate you, fucking you onto his cock, you realize Hyuck’s right about it feeling good.

Another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. You don’t even know where to focus- Jaehyun sounds so pretty with his cock burried in your mouth, and Mark feels snug with your pussy clenching tightly around him, his thumb slowly thrusting in and out of your ass-

“Shit,” Mark moans loudly, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass cheeks. “I’m gonna cum- this is way too hot- I can cum inside right? You want it inside?”

You let out a sound of affirmation, sucking harder on Jaehyun’s cock. Mark begins fucking you faster again, keeping his thumb burried in your ass while his balls hit your clit with each rough thrust of his hips.

You’re gasping around Jaehyun’s length, muscles pulling tight as Mark works you closer and closer to the edge-

“Fuck, oh my God, shit, Barbie- Can you cum with me?” Mark’s free hand slips around your front, seeking out your clit-

There’s no way this man has his cock in your pussy, his thumb in your ass, and his fingers on your clit- Mark truly said lemme fuck this girl absolutely stupid-

All you can do is whine, sounds muffled by each thrust of Jaehyun’s cock past your lips. You teeter on the edge, core clamping down on Mark-

“Shit, I’m cumming, fuck, cum with me, barbie, holy fuck-”

Mark’s words make you truly tip over the edge. Your entire body convulses and you pull off Jaehyun’s cock, gasping loudly while your other holes clench and unclench desperately around Mark. You rest against Jaehyun’s thigh, reaching up a weak hand to pump his cock through your orgasm, waves of pleasure nearly consuming you.

Mark’s thrusts slowly come to a stop, and you listen to him pant behind you, his breath trailing over your shoulders and making you shiver.

“My turn,” Hyuck announces.

Mark pulls out of your core and you whimper at the loss. You can already feel cum begining to drip out of you, a mix of yours and Mark’s. As much as you miss Mark in your wet, needy cunt, you kind of miss him in your ass too, and it’s a surprising feeling.

“Think you can take something bigger in here?” Hyuck asks, landing a gentle spank to your bum that has you whining desperately.

You can only nod, blinking up at Jaehyun through teary lashes. “Can I fuck you too?”

Jaehyun’s lips part at the notion of double penetration, his cock twitching in your hand. “Yeah, anything you want.”

It’s a quick shift for Jaehyun to lay down on his back, pulling you into a straddling position. You all remove your clothes, and then Jaehyun guides his cock to your wet hole, using the cum as lube, which makes it easy to slide into you. You both release groans when he bottoms out, and your hands find his chest.

You simply cock warm him for a moment, appreciating the stretch. He’s longer than Mark, maybe not as thick, but the tip of his dick hits a spot deep inside of you.

“Bend over,” Hyuck instructs, moving behind you. His hand is gentle on your shoulder as he pushes you down, and you take the opportunity to press your lips to Jaehyun’s, kissing him eagerly.

You roll your hips and Jaehyun groans beneath you, fingers digging into your thighs.

You hear Hyuck spit, and a moment later the feeling of something wet meets your back hole. Hyuck spreads open your cheeks with one hand, using the other to circle your tight ring of muscles with a finger. “Fuck, I can’t believe I get to be the first one inside you like this.”

“It was worth the wait, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun teases, and you know you’ve tested Hyuck’s patience by making him last to touch you.

“So worth it,” Hyuck agrees.

He sinks a finger into your hole and you moan loudly, burying your face against Jaehyun’s throat. “Relax,” he reminds you, smoothing a hand along your spine. “Hyuck’s good at this sort of thing.”

You have to admit, Hyuck does know what he’s doing. He toes the line between rough and gentle, as if he knows exactly what you’re able to take. He twists his hand so you can feel the ridges of his knuckles as he works open your ass, and soon he’s adding a second finger. “You’re a natural, barbie,” Hyuck praises you.

Your core twitches and Jaehyun moans, throwing his head back against the pillow when you begin to kiss his throat. “She likes it,” Jaehyun announces.

“Most girls do, they just have to feel comfortable enough to open up,” Hyuck explains.

So he’s some sort of anal genius, apparently.

You honestly don’t even mind.

He works your ass expertly, and the feeling has you tingling with anticipation. If this is what two fingers feels like, you can’t even imagine having his whole cock.

“I hate to rush you,” Jaehyun says, “but… If we don’t start moving soon, I might die.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s ready for me,” Hyuck breathes, pulling his fingers out of your ass to land a smack against your skin, “isn’t that right, baby? All ready to be filled?”

You nod. “Please!”

Hyuck spits on your hole again, but then you hear Mark say the word “lube” and you look to find him holding a bottle.

“How did you even know where to find this?” Hyuck asks, accepting the lube and popping open the cap to squirt a line on his cock.

“Most of us only use our bedside tables for one thing,” Mark breathes, meeting your gaze. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You lick your lips, eyes dipping to bulge forming in Mark’s jeans.

“Are you looking at his cock, barbie?” Hyuck laughs, rubbing himself along your hole, getting you lubricated.

“Maybe.” Your skin heats with embarrassment.

“Is two cocks not enough?” Hyuck teases, landing another harsh smack to your ass.

“She wants the full experience,” Jaehyun smiles good naturedly below you. “Isn’t that right, barbie?”

“I just-” you swallow thickly. “How often do you end up in a foursome? It would be… irresponsible not to try it to the fullest, right?”

“Our little barbie likes being full,” Hyuck groans, sliding the tip of his cock into your ass. “Trust me, you’ll be full by the time this is all over.”

You can’t even respond, your mind much more pleasantly focused on the feeling of Hyuck splitting you open. You’re doing your best to breathe, to relax, but it’s a difficult feat as Hyuck sinks more and more of his thick cock into your virgin hole.

“Oh my God-” you whimper, tangling your fingers in the sheets.

Jaehyun’s hand is smooth along your back, reassuring, and he draws your lips to his again. He eats up your sounds of pleasure as Hyuck bottoms out, releasing a deep groan. His fingers dig into your hips, and he allows you to get used to the feeling of being completely stuffed.

“Good?”

“So good,” you breathe.

“Can I start fucking you stupid now?” Hyuck asks. “Or do you need a moment?”

“Fuck me silly.”

“Don’t mind if I fucking do.” Hyuck’s grip tightens on your hips, and his first thrust makes you cry out, gasping into Jaehyun’s mouth. The man below you lets out a grunt, the force of Hyuck’s motion pushing you further onto his own cock.

You feel Jaehyun adjust, anchoring himself so he can begin to fuck up into you.

They’re holding you steady, hovering over Jaehyun so they can both be the ones moving to meet your holes. Skin slapping against skin, it’s an erratic sound as they both struggle to find a pace that works. You’re clawing at the bed when they both thrust at the same time, so Jaehyun adjusts again, pistoning into you as Hyuck draws back.

Now this feels like heaven.

“Fuck,” you moan, burrying your face against Jaehyun’s throat. “I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum so fucking hard-”

“Do it,” Hyuck says, spanking you roughly.

Your entire body clamps down on them from the sting of the hit, and you gasp, teetering on the edge-

“Cum for us,” Jaehyun whispers, his lips teasing your ear. “We’ve got you.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and you explode- but instead of letting up, Hyuck fucks into you even harder. You let out a loud squeal, shivering with stimulation- The clown behind you laughs loudly.

“That’s it, squeeze our fucking cocks! Bet you want our cum so bad- barbie wants to be full, but not until you take all three.”

You lift your head from Jaehyun’s shoulder, body still convulsing around Hyuck and Jaehyun. Mark’s standing next to the bed, cock in hand. “You don’t have to,” he tells you weakly, fist gripped tight around his throbbing length, the head dripping with precum.

“Come here,” you say, practically blind with lust.

Shifting off of Jaehyun’s chest, you plant your hands on the bed, leaning over so you can accept Mark’s cock into your mouth.

He releases a strangled groan, immediately cupping the back of your head so he can begin to fuck into you. It’s not like you can move while held between Jaehyun and Hyuck, no, you’re simply a girl with three holes, getting fucked by three clowns.

You’ve cum three times? Four? You’re not even sure anymore. All you know is nothing has ever been like this, and nothing ever will be again.

It’s like you’ve been transported to an entirely other planet, where orgasming with men is easy and you’re just some needy cock whore desperate for cum.

“Fuck, you just got so tight from sucking on Mark,” Hyuck groans. “You really love our cocks, don’t you, barbie?”

You can only moan around Mark, hallowing your cheeks harder around his length, while he practically whimpers, fucking your throat even harder.

“I don’t know about you two,” Jaehyun breathes, “but I’m about to fucking bust.”

“Me too,” Mark grunts, tightening his grip on your hair.

“I can cum.”

You let out a meak groan of affirmation.

All four of you are going to cum together, and nothing has ever felt so right, so correct.

“On three?” Hyuck suggests.

“On three,” Jaehyun agrees, reaching between your bodies to rub at your clit.

You practically scream, walls shuddering around the cocks pistoning relentlessly in your tight, abused holes.

“That’s it,” Jaehyun coaxes you. “Hold it just a little longer.”

“Three,” Hyuck lands the harshes smack of the night against your ass. “Two-”

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, “One!”

The tension in your stomach snaps as Mark shoots his load down your throat. Your entire body feels practically numb, awash with waves of pleasure that blank out everything else in the entire world.

You hear Jaehyun cuss loudly below you, fingers digging into your hips. Hyuck fills up your ass with his hot cum, groaning as loudly as you’ve ever heard from him while your walls contract with more force than you’ve ever experienced.

You’ve never orgasmed this hard. It’s completely all consuming, wracking you with shivers and something akin to sobs as you pull of Mark’s cock, gasping and burrying yourself against Jaehyun- which is when you realize his cock has slipped out of your core, and he’s jacking himself onto his chest, coating both your skin with white ropes.

“Fuck, barbie, you fucking squirted,” he groans. “Pushed me right out-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” you whimper, tears filling your eyes at how overstimulated you are.

“No, babe, that was hot as fuck,” Jaehyun assures you, finishing and pulling his hand away from his cock, cupping your face to pull your lips to his.

“I wanna see that again,” Hyuck says from behind you, pulling out of your ass only to release a sinful sound at the sight of both of your holes dripping-

“She’s done,” Jaehyun’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it so far, and he tucks you against his shoulder, stroking your hair.

“She can do one more, I wanna make her squirt-”

“No. She’s fucking crying, Hyuck. Give her some rest.”

“She’s crying?” Mark and Hyuck ask at the same time, but the latter sounds much more happy about it than the former.

“I’ve never cum that hard, or that many times,” you admit weakly.

“Lemme get a towel,” Mark suggests immediately, and you can hear his soft footfalls as he runs across the room.

“You did good, baby,” Hyuck tells you, stroking your back. “Took us all like a fucking champ.”

You can only shiver at his words, your pussy throbbing as an echo of the highs they’ve just provided you.

“Here, can you sit up for us?” Mark asks.

Hands gently help you up, and you look down at Jaehyun’s body, shocked to find his skin glistening with squirt and cum. Jaehyun takes the towel from Mark. He starts by wiping at your face, “clown makeup,” he explains. Then he swipes the cloth along the front of your body, you shiver when he traces over your nipples. He cleans himself last, tossing the ruined fabric to the floor.

“I feel like we all still need a shower,” Jaehyun sighs.

“In the middle of the Halloween party?” Mark’s eyes widen. “The bathrooms are full of people!”

“And barbie probably can’t even walk,” Hyuck points out.

Your legs do feel shaky, even while sitting on top of Jaehyun.

“Mark, can you go grab us a few more towels from your room?” Jaehyun suggests. “Ten probably has makeup removing wipes-”

“We should just move to our room,” Hyuck interrupts.

“Like you said, barbie can’t even walk. We’re staying here.”

“Isn’t your bed ruined with cum?”

“Actually, most of he squirt landed on me,” Jaehyun says, looking at the bed sheets under him. “It’s fine here.”

“You’re being selfish,” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up with distaste. “Mark and I share a room, you’re here with Jungwoo, it’s two against one.”

Except, Mark has already left in search of towels, so at the moment, it’s one versus one. Without the Canadian’s support, Hyuck’s easily beaten by a harsh glare from Jaehyun.

“Well, I guess I’m sleeping here too,” Hyuck sighs.

“No you’re not, the bed hardly fits two.”

“Not my problem.” Hyuck shrugs, walking to Jaehyun’s closet to pull out some clean clothes. “It’s called aftercare Jae, cuddles come with the package.”

Jaehyun only groans helping you move to lay next to him.

Hyuck practically jumps on the foot of the bed, looking up at you with a shit eating pennywise grin that’s completely smudged. “Did you have fun, babe?”

“The most fun,” you smile back, curling close to Jaehyun’s side.

“Best Halloween ever?” he suggests.

“A hundred percent,” you agree.

Your body is sore, and you’re more tired than you’ve been in a long time, but you feel comfortable. You always feel comfortable with these guys. Sure… you’re laying on a towel with cum dripping out of two holes, but… you still feel at peace.

Mark returns quickly, with more cloths and makeup remover. The boys help you out first, with Jaehyun cleaning your face while Hyuck deals with the cum and makeup between your legs. Mark finds you a spare set of sweats and a hoodie from Jaehyun’s closet, and soon you feel more comfortable than ever.

It’s kind of sad watching your friends take off their clown colours, but you’re sure you’ll have the memory of this etched into your brain forever, so that’s something you can lean on at least.

“How are you feeling now?” Mark asks, reaching for your hands to pull you up onto your feet.

Your legs are a little wobbly, but you’re doing okay, and you flash him a smile. “I think I’m alright.”

“Do you wanna run to the bathroom with me? I read somewhere that uti’s happen easier if you don’t uh…” Mark swallows thickly, skin turning a pretty shade of pink that contrasts the blue in his hair, “If you don’t you know, go to the bathroom after.”

He’s adorable, and so caring. When you agree, Hyuck jumps to his feet, and just like that, it becomes a group trip, with even Jaehyun tagging along.

The hallway on this floor is pretty clear, but you run into Jungwoo exiting the bathroom. He stops in his tracks, looking you up and down, then he begins to beam. “Looks like you guys had fun.”

“Stop it,” you push at his shoulder, skin heating with embarrassment. Sure, you’ve told him for a while that you’d love to partake in a clown orgy, but it’s another thing entirely to run into him after getting three holes stuffed by his best friends.

“Are you staying over tonight?” Jungwoo asks.

“Yeah, she’s with us,” Jaehyun responds, hand finding your hip to tug you closer as Hyuck and Mark enter the bathroom to wash the last pit of clownery off their skin.

“As in… she’s staying in our room?” Your best friend’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, sleepover!”

“Hyuck and Mark are joining too,” Jaehyun sighs, tightening his grip on you.

Jungwoo’s smile grows. “Karaoke night!?”

You and Jaehyun exchange a look and he laughs. “I’m not sure any of us have the energy for that, Woo.”

“Right, cuz you all just had hot nasty clown orgy sex. I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten laid so far.”

“You can still change that,” Jaehyun says, giving his roommate some much needed encouragement.

“Nah, it’s sleep over time,” Jungwoo grins.

You love how excited he is to spend time with you and the three men you’ve just fucked. Jungwoo doesn’t have a care in the world- it’s a good sign. Maybe this little clown orgy really didn’t change much in the relationships, or at least, as a group it still feels like things are strong.

You have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but something tells you that everything is going to work out.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Another year, another Halloween, another weird clown fic from user smileysuh

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🔮 preview. In the months you’ve been dating these three men, you’ve tried a lot of different sex positions. But you’ve never tried being stuffed full of cock while both of your tits get sucked on and your clit is played with… you should have tried this ages ago.

cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, breast worship, biting, Mark/Hyuck worshiping her breasts at the same time, cum/filling kink, douple penetration, blow job, oral, deep throating, overstimulation, pussy slapping, messy sex, painting her skin with makeup, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby, babe.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.5k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Jaehyun & Hyuck & Mark x afab!Reader

bonus

“Why are we doing clown makeup again?” Mark asks, looking at the eye shadow pallet with distaste. “It’s a Valentine’s Day party, not Halloween.”

“Exactly,” Hyuck says, brushing crimson around his eyes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, which means she’s going to be more focused on Jaehyun. We have to do something to even the playing field- besides, it’s not full clown, it’s just… a few red hearts, a bit of makeup- you know how much our baby loves getting messy.”

“I guess you’re right,” Mark sighs. It’s been three and a half months since that first night you all fucked, and since then, they’ve learned a lot about you and your… tastes. You definitely like having your skin painted, in makeup as well as cum.

Hyuck’s gotten particularly good at clown makeup, and tonight, even Mark has to admit his roommate looks good. He’s gone for a lighter cream coloured base, with a red glittery heart around one eye, and his mouth done up in the same glittered scarlet colour- it’s clear to Mark that Hyuck intends on getting you nice and messy tonight.

Mark, on the other hand, isn’t very interested in makeup. Hyuck had insisted they do different colours, and after you’d revealed how much you liked his blue hair at Halloween, he’s since dyed his strands a soft, steely, sky shade.

Instead of going full clown, Mark does a few glittery blue hearts along his cheekbone. He doesn’t mind if Jae gets to be the main attraction in his romanesque cupid outfit, it is his birthday afterall.

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