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cromernet · 14 hours ago

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→ NEW RELEASE: His car isn't yours by @bvidzsoo

Feedback: Sureeee, take my heart and stamp on it why don't you? Want me soul on a silver platter too if we are already at it?! Yn?! Girl wake up babe?!? You got a whole ass bear in front of you who's willing to treat you like a queen?!?!

His car isn't yours

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader x Choi Jongho

☂︎ Warning: cursing, very lightly suggestive, toxic relationship ☂︎ Word count: 16k ☂︎ Rating: nc-17 ☂︎ Genre: angst, fluffy at times, established relationship, dysfunctional relationship, breakup, lovers to exes, strangers to friends to lovers, @cromernet ☂︎ Summary: Mingi had been the man of your dreams...he was, until he wasn't. Perhaps he had always been like this and you just hadn't noticed until now, three years into your relationship. What can you do when you realise the love of your life is seeing other girls behind your back? What can you do when your heart cries out but his doesn't respond...His doesn't, but someone else's does. And he...he is a good guy, he'll treat you right...right? And despite the newly budding love between you and Jongho, all you could think was: It wasn't your car...

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Finishing March with this story is quite jarring after our fluffy March event with Mina ahaha, but I've had this idea for a looong time (precisely ever since Wendy's song came out lol, please give it a listen to get the feels for this oneshot!) and I finally sat down to write it. Writting this felt a little bittersweet, I'm not going to lie, it hits close to home at certain points in the story. I like what I tried to do with this oneshot, so I hope whoever gives it a read will also enjoy reading it. I appreciate your feedback greatly, so don't be shy and share it with me! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy ^^ (but before that, check out the visual board I created for the story!) divider

☂︎ Visual board ☂︎

I'm waiting on this good guy to come pick me up...

The cafeteria was a cacophony of sounds as it was filled to the brim with students; its vastness was less obvious, as there were now few tables left unoccupied. It was warm both outside and inside, so the windows were open to let in the fresh breeze, as well as to air out the various food scents that mingled together. I sighed as I let my head fall back slightly, eyes shifting onto the window behind me. The trees were in full bloom, soon it would be summer, and the break was getting closer and closer. I couldn’t wait to step away from the strenuous studying and the annoying professors for a few months, it was a well-earned rest that both my mind and body were craving. The birds resting on the branches of the tall oak tree outside the window were chirping to each other, their songs filling the space if you paid close attention to them. I smiled to myself as I blocked out the laughter coming from across me, content with detaching myself from everything that was happening around me. I was tired, I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep after I had stayed up last night to fix a project due today, for which my teammates were unable to take responsibility. It wasn’t surprising, despite being at university, most people still acted like they were in high school. I hated irresponsible people, and I hated even more the fact that I had always been a people-pleaser.

A slight jostle to my left shoulder snapped my attention back to the present, and my eyes slowly trailed towards the man sitting to my left. Our shoulders brushed together as his long arm was draped over the back of my chair, the exposed skin of his arms warm to the touch. Mingi’s cologne was familiar and comforting, and I felt myself smile a little as our eyes met for a quick second. He was in a heated conversation with Wooyoung over something I hadn’t paid enough attention to be able to tell, his leg bouncing up and down. He seemed annoyed for some reason, his eyebrows furrowing every now and then as Wooyoung seemed to be denying something that Mingi was adamant on knowing. I leaned back comfortably into my chair, left hand landing on Mingi’s leg as I softly started tracing patterns into his dark jeans as a way to try and calm his irritated state. Seonghwa, sitting next to Wooyoung, was watching me with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Have you gotten little sleep last night?” He asked when he realised he had my attention, and I sighed, nodding with a pout.

“Yeah, I had to make last-minute touch-ups to a project.” I sighed again, feeling my dry eyes cry out for the eye drops that I had forgotten at home in my haste this morning, “I barely got five hours of sleep.”

Seonghwa’s expression was sympathetic, “Ah, I get it. I’m always so grumpy when I don’t get enough sleep. What were your teammates doing? Did you do it alone?”

Mingi suddenly laughed next to me, and I realised his leg stopped bouncing. I kept my hand on it, though, fingers curling into the rough fabric of his jeans as I felt the need to hold onto something.

“What were they up to?” I chuckled dryly, “Doing something else, I don’t know, everyone ignored me in the group chat.”

“Fucking assholes.” Seonghwa scoffed, and I chuckled as it was unusual for him to swear. His pink hair was getting in his eyes as he was leaning over the table, cradling his box of fried rice with vegetables to his chest as if he was afraid anyone would try and take it from him. Given the fact that he was sitting between Wooyoung and Yeri, the chances of him losing his lunch were high, “Refuse to work with them next time.”

“Oh, I will, don’t worry.” I nodded with an exasperated look on my face as Yeri started giggling, holding her phone out for me to see.

“Look!” It was a video of our friend, Seokmin, drunk and rolling around on the front lawn of a random person. He was cackling like a maniac in the video, cradling something I couldn’t tell to his chest, until suddenly the front porch light was turned on and a man came out looking furious.

“Get off my fucking property before I call the cops on you, kiddo!” The man screamed, pointing at Seokmin before his eyes found the one who was recording. Based on the giggles, the people behind the camera were Yeri and probably Chan as well, since the two went everywhere together. I shook my head with an amused smile as Yeri continued to giggle, pulling her phone away.

“When was this?” I asked, feeling Mingi shift next to me, his thick fingers lightly brushing against my shoulder. His deep voice wasn’t as distracting as it used to be when we first started dating. It used to be hard to pay attention to anyone else if he was speaking. But maybe that had to do with the pink haze that had clouded my mind at the beginning of our relationship. I had fallen hard for him, and I had gotten lost for a quick second until I realised I couldn’t let my emotions dictate my life this much.

“Last night,” Yeri answered, eyes on her phone as she was scrolling through whatever, “You didn’t come out with us.”

Right, the ‘gang’ had gone out to get drinks last night. If I wouldn’t have had to finish that project on my own, I probably would’ve had a little time to join them. There was no reason for regrets or resentments right now, and perhaps I was even glad I missed it as my eyes searched for Seokmin, his head resting on his arms as he snored, the sound loud as his mouth was angled at the table. I grinned in amusement and pushed Yeri’s foot under the table to get her attention. I nodded my head towards Seokmin, and she giggled again, leaning over the table to snap a picture of him. Baekhyun and Minseok were already drawing with a semi-permanent marker on Seokmin’s exposed cheek, snickering at each other quietly so as not to wake their friend. I snorted and shook my head, turning to look at my boyfriend when I saw movement in my peripheral vision. He wasn’t speaking to Wooyoung anymore since he was trying to target Seonghwa’s bowl of rice, whining and pouting at the pink-haired man, who was showing his teeth at Wooyoung like a vampire. Only the hissing was missing, and he’d be almost credible.

I watched as Mingi pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, plump bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers moved quickly. I didn’t manage to get a glance at the name of the username, but when Mingi opened up the chat on Instagram, it didn’t take me long to realise he was speaking to a girl. A lump formed in my throat as my muscles tensed, and I was unable to look away as I watched the screen of his phone. There was a picture from the girl which he had opened already, and a text underneath which said, ‘Did u like what u saw, handsome?’. My jaw clenched and my heart froze for a second as I watched Mingi’s ring-clad fingers type back a quick ‘Not sure, mind showing me again?’. I released a shocked sigh, my heart clenching like it did so very often lately. My skin crawled, and I shifted in my seat to put distance between Mingi and myself, our eyes meeting just as he locked his phone. His expression said nothing as he studied my face for a second, then he smiled. Wide and innocent, eyes crinkling at the corner, crooked front teeth endearing. His nose scrunched as he leaned towards me, looking so happy that one would assume something had happened. But my bones were frozen, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. My heart squeezed tighter, and I flinched slightly when I felt his warm lips pressing a chaste kiss against mine.

I didn’t close my eyes, not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t. The question—the accusation—was on the tip of my tongue, but I just gulped as Mingi hummed in the back of his throat, tilting his head cutely. He looked confused, waiting for an explanation that wouldn’t come as I was unable to find my voice. And despite the way my heart was clenching a second ago, now it had started racing, making my ears ring. I could feel anger lick up my spine, raw and painful, but I ignored it as Mingi’s hand clasped around my shoulder and pulled me back into his side once again. His eyebrows had furrowed just as we both heard his phone buzz on top of the table, screen facing down, but neither one of us looked at it. He pouted, then pressed a loud kiss to my cheek, and I felt numb as he turned back to whatever conversation Minseok was having with the rest of the boys, their voices loud and making my head thump. Seonghwa had been watching us, his expression troubled as he looked at Mingi for a second too long. Our eyes met and I had to quickly avert mine as I felt tears spring into them.

Mingi hadn’t even noticed yet that I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. We had met up this morning to have breakfast before our classes started.

It hadn’t always been like this. All the mistrust and questions had stirred up quite recently, when I had noticed Mingi started lying about where he was and what he was doing. It was an innocent finding. Yeri and I had been discussing sharing our location with each other when she had gone on a date with a guy she didn’t know well, and while I was sharing mine with her, I remembered that Mingi and I were also sharing it. Out of boredom and knowing he was home doing homework, I went and looked at his location. Instead of finding him at home, he was at a bowling alley. It wasn’t like we told each other absolutely everything; that wasn’t necessary. We both had our private lives outside of our relationship, and we were both people who needed privacy and a little time away from our partners—freedom, if you will. So, when I texted him and teasingly asked him what he had been up to assuming he was there with the boys, I was left confused when he answered that he was in bed, watching some shitty movie that came out recently. Not thinking much of it, I had dropped the subject at that time, only to find myself checking his location again days later.

And each time I assumed he was at home or in the garage, fixing up or upgrading his car, he wasn’t. At least not based on the location his phone was showing. So, the mistrust and jealousy had started then because I couldn’t help myself. I rarely asked, and when I did, he’d either very cleverly twist my words and play the victim, or he’d change the topic in such a way that I’d only hours later realise what he had done, and that I still hadn’t gotten answers to his secretive behaviour. It wasn’t right, it felt wrong, and I was hurting the more he hid things from me. Mingi was a handsome guy, I had known that from the start, and I was also aware that due to his charming personality, girls flocked to him all the time. That hadn’t been an issue in the past, I quite enjoyed the fact that he was dating me despite all the attention he was getting…until I wasn’t anymore. Back when we had started finally dating, it had taken us quite a while to get there. The way we had met was by chance at university, on a late afternoon when my car wouldn’t start up. As he was quite into cars and knew how to fix them up, he had offered to help me out without asking for anything in exchange. It turns out, my battery had died and needed recharging, which his BMW e36 was nothing but good for.

And after that, as if the universe wanted us to meet again, Mingi would be everywhere I went. He would be at the library whenever I went there to work on a project or paper, he’d be entering the cafeteria at the same time as me, he’d be at the pub when I went out with my friends, he’d even be at some of the parties I went to, and despite the campus being relatively large, our classes would be held in the same building unlike before. It had started as a small nod of our heads and the polite inquiring acquittances did—like, how was your day or how are you doing—and then it gradually turned into us stopping if we crossed paths to exchange more than just pleasantries, our nods turned into friendly hugs which sometimes lasted for too long, follow requests on Instagram, and then into questions if the other was free to hangout soon. Somehow, it was rather hard to get a hold of Mingi at first. Even though we’d agree on plans, going for a walk or just grabbing coffee, he’d find an excuse for which he couldn’t make it. I hadn’t really thought about dating Mingi at first, but in the end, I fell for his charming personality.

It was hard to say no to him, to not feel your heart race when he absentmindedly fixed your collar or brushed your hair out of your face, to not smile shily when he squeezed you as he hugged you. His eyes had always held an intensity, sharp and dark as they watched you from up close or from afar, his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you. And it had taken me some time to figure out whether all the teasing coming from his part was merely part of his personality, or if it had meant more than that. Despite being grown-ups, I couldn’t tell whether Mingi was still too young to maturely ask me out. And the fact that he acted with other girls the same way as with me made everything harder and more confusing, often leaving me with a racing but confused heart. After months of dancing around each other, on one faithful evening, we had run into each other while we were both out for grocery shopping and he had offered to take me home. His car was a rich metallic blue, impeccably clean, and the paint job done clearly by a professional, as there were no imperfections to it. The model was an old one, but because it was maintained so well, it had made no difference. The car was longer than mine, the seats comfortable and low, as the car itself was closer to the ground. I had melted into the sporty passenger seat, admiring the interior, which was a mixture of black and dark brown. That evening, however, as we had cruised through the city with the windows rolled down and rock music playing in the background, he had asked a question I never thought I’d hear from him, “Want to be my girlfriend?”

That was three years ago, in our first year of university, and things have changed since then. It wasn’t as peaceful or as pink as it used to be, and I had no idea which way we were headed. I felt a bit nostalgic as the evening breeze was warm, the windows rolled down as Mingi steered the wheel, turning off the main road and onto a residential one as we neared my apartment complex. I tapped my fingers against the handle to the rhythm of the rock music playing through the old stereo, a song Mingi loved and had taken the time to copy onto the CD that it was currently playing from. The lyrics reflected my state of mind, the anger that was simmering just below the surface as I chewed on my bottom lip, sighing loudly as my building came into view. I felt Mingi’s hand grip my thigh, and I pulled my leg away, shaking his touch off. He remained silent, but the volume of the radio was turned down. I refused to look at him as I stared out the open window, heart beating slightly faster when he pulled up in front of the apartment complex and neither one of us made to move.

Another beat of silence passed before he sighed, “Baby, will you tell me what’s wrong?”

My eyebrows furrowed, and I turned my head to look at him with annoyance written all over my face, “Really? You have to ask what’s wrong? Isn’t it pretty fucking obvious?”

Mingi’s eyebrows rose at my aggressive words, and he tilted his head, “No, I—I wouldn’t be asking if I knew, baby. Did I do something wro—”

“Mingi, why the fuck were you flirting all night long with Ryujin?” I snapped, cutting him off before he could piss me off more. And yet, I felt my blood boil as Mingi’s eyes widened, his shoulders pulling up almost defensively.

“What are you talking about?” I closed my eyes to take a deep breath, and pushed his hand away when I felt fingers grazing my cheek, “Don’t deny my touch, you know I hate it—”

“And I hate it when you flirt with girls and let them be all over you despite having a girlfriend, baby.” I sneered, tone harsh and cold as Mingi flinched, acting like what I said was so harsh. I couldn’t deal with his theatrics at the moment and just stared him down, glare deepening the longer he tried to make himself seem innocent. He didn’t say anything right away, just jutted his lips out as he looked at me with sad eyes, making my skin buzz as my heart raced with anger coursing through my veins. Then, almost frighteningly, his expression slipped into something colder, something more detached and irritated.

“What do you want me to say?” He scoffed, leaning back into his seat as his thick eyebrows furrowed, “It’s not like you’ll believe me even if I say I wasn’t flirting with her. You always do this, Y/N, blame me for something that isn’t true and then expect me to give in to you. Don’t you think I’m becoming sick of it? That it hurts me? Do you not trust me?!”

I huffed in surprise, biting back my shout since I wanted to tell him that I didn’t trust him, not even a little bit. When I didn’t say anything because I was trying to gather my thoughts, he raised his eyebrows and gave me an almost expectant look. It only managed to make my blood boil more, so I undid my seatbelt and shook my head at him.

“You know what hurts me? This!” I snapped, grabbing the handle to get out of his car, “The fact that you keep denying and denying your own actions, making me feel like shit for rightfully calling out your behaviour which isn’t okay since you’re my partner, Mingi. But sure, make me the villain again, I’m already used to being the crazy and overbearing girlfriend who is always creating a scene by being jealous and not letting you have fun.”

Something changed in Mingi’s expression as I opened the door, pushing it open with all of my force since it worked a bit harder due to the car being from ‘99. With one foot out of the car, Mingi shifted, leaning over the centre console with something like fear and surprise on his face.

“Stop, wait.” He called out, his fingers wrapping around my forearm as he halted my actions. My jaw gritted as I turned my head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s just that…you’ve changed. I don’t understand why that is, and you’re also not saying anything to me, I’m now always scared you’ll blow up in my face.”

My mouth opened in surprise hearing his words, and I had to take a second to reel in his words, to try and remain calm. I was the insane one again, the one acting out without being given a reason. I hummed, feeling all fight leave my body as tiredness overtook it, not in the mood to fight about this again. It wasn’t the first time; we’ve gone out multiple times lately, and Mingi would always find a random girl he’d flirt with, buy a drink for, and sometimes even dance with. But tonight, it had been Ryujin, someone we both knew, and the girl he knows I can’t stand. Before we had gotten together, she was very obviously pursuing Mingi, trying to get his attention anytime they were in the same room. She was all over him and laughing a bit too hard at his jokes, trailing his skin with her fingers suggestively. She was one of the reasons why I never took my dynamic with Mingi seriously, that is, until he asked me out. And given the fact that he had been sneakily texting someone this week, always brushing off the topic or asking whether he wasn’t allowed anymore to have friends, everything just bottled up and burst out of me tonight. I was sick of his behaviour; I was tired of overthinking every little thing when it came to Mingi and me.

“I’m going in,” I said after the prolonged silence, glancing down at Mingi’s hold on me, “Let me go, please.”

He gulped, his eyebrows furrowed, and then I was yanked forward as he kissed me hard, lips pressing against mine harshly. I didn’t want to kiss him back, so I didn’t, and Mingi pulled back when he realised I wasn’t reciprocating it, “I love you, my baby.”

His voice was whiny and sad, his eyes wet with unshed tears, and I nodded, prying his fingers off my forearm. I grabbed my purse from my lap and got out of his car, slamming the door unnecessarily hard. The loud engine of his car stalled, and that told me he wasn’t going to leave until I was inside the building. Unlike other times, I didn’t turn back around to wave at him or send him a flying kiss. My skin crawled where he had touched me, and it was my turn to have unshed tears in my eyes as I entered the apartment. When would he stop this nonsense? And why had he changed so much?

What was supposed to be a fun night out had turned into a sleepless night of question after question whirling in my head while Mingi blew up my phone, forcing me to put it on do not disturb.

Mingi wasn’t the man I had fallen for anymore. Perhaps it had always been there and I had failed to notice it until, or maybe it was something about me which made him act out. Our relationship had been more than lovely. In the past three years that we’ve been seeing each other, I could recall a dozen happy memories. He’d always bring me flowers if we decided to go for a date, we’d take late-night cruises throughout the city, ending up at the belvedere to gaze upon the lights, admiring the view of the river from up above. He’d be gentle and loving, showering me with kisses and compliments any time he could. He used to love to cuddle, he’d often come over just to lie in bed and talk about nothing while I lit a candle and popped some popcorn for us. He was attentive and supportive, always the first person to cheer me on or watch over me while I worked on my project. And yet, what we had, it seems like that wasn’t enough for him. Despite the silent treatment from my side after our argument, he acted like nothing ever happened. He was still his cheery and carefree self, kissing me on the lips as if I didn’t carry resentment for him.

I didn’t bring it up again, so he didn’t either. I could tell he was actively ignoring the giant gap between us, and he made anything he could to fill it with love once again. Taking me to my favourite patisserie store, going to great lengths to get me my favourite flower which only blooms during spring, even missing one day of classes just so that we could go and watch the rally hours away from our city. He was trying his best, and yet, it didn’t seem to help. Even when the words I love you spilled from his mouth, his thrust deep and slow, eyes shining with adoration and shaking with desperation, it still wasn’t enough. I couldn’t unravel in front of him, I came undone under his hands, but it didn’t feel like before. The tears in my eyes weren’t from pleasure but from all the questions tainting my mind, making me refuse his advances the more he pushed. I just couldn’t help but wonder if he’s been cheating on me all this time. He had always been a flirty person, that much I knew. But before, he always made it clear that it was just friendly banter and that he already had someone he loved and cherished. Now, it all felt hush-hush, as if he was trying to hide me from the world. I saw the way girls looked at him, the way they’d approach him so blatantly as if I wasn’t right next to him, and most importantly, I saw the way Mingi looked at them, laughed along with them, and touched them.

The library was cooped up today since exam week was right around the corner, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the stuffy room once I was done catching up with some much-needed studying. My backpack was heavy due to it being filled with textbooks and my old laptop, and my fingers curled around my tall thermos as I sipped on my much-needed homemade coffee. I was all for saving up these days, things were getting too pricey, and Mingi’s birthday was around the corner. I wanted to buy him something unique and long-lasting. Getting to the ground floor, I was just about to turn left and head for the outdoor patio to join my friends, when my eyes caught someone familiar. It was Mingi, his coral-coloured knitted sweater, form-fitting and comfy, making him look all fluffy when he wore it. It was probably one of my favourite clothing articles of his, and he knew this, so he often wore it around me. Today had been colder since it’s been raining for the past few days, and Mingi got easily cold. His backpack was thrown around one shoulder, fingers holding the strap tightly, rings decorating his thick fingers, and his black jeans fit him like a second skin, showing off his good proportions. I smiled to myself, about to call out his name, when I realised he wasn’t alone.

Next to him stood a girl with dark hair, burgundy highlights in it, half-way tied up as her hair looked slightly greasy even from afar. She was thin, a lot shorter than Mingi, and her skirt reached her ankles as a satchel bag sat around her shoulder, brushing against her hip. She wore a black crop top, a cardigan around her frail form as she was saying something to Mingi, hiding her mouth behind her hands as she suddenly laughed. I watched her for a second longer, realising that I knew her. Her name was Arin, and they knew each other. She and Mingi had dated for a month, back when we weren’t very close with each other. Based on what Mingi had told me, they didn’t click, so they never went further than a kiss and a few dates. Despite believing Mingi, I knew it wasn’t just that for Arin. She liked him, it was obvious in the way she looked at him, in the way she carried herself if Mingi was around. They might not have clicked in Mingi’s mind, but to Arin, she still wasn’t over him. And watching from afar, it became clear that whatever they were talking about had Mingi’s attention as he smirked, running his fingers through his outgrown hair. The front strands fell in his eyes, dark and soft to the touch. He licked his lips just as Arin reached out, touching the fabric at Mingi’s bicep and picking something off of it.

Mingi didn’t flinch; he looked down and took a small step towards her, lessening the distance between their bodies. I felt something drop in the pit of my stomach, coiling like when you were cramping up from your period. My fingers tightened around my thermos, and I felt my heart rate gradually pick up as I continued to watch the two. I was standing in the way of those coming down the staircase, and a guy apologised as he bumped into me, so I decided to step aside while I reached for my phone. It was in my back pocket, my hand trembled as I unlocked it without taking my eyes off Mingi and Arin. He was shifting from his left foot to his right, then he started nudging her shoe with his. I quickly opened my messaging app and then clicked on Mingi’s name, ignoring his last message, which I hadn’t read until now. It said, I’m busy all day, but you could come over tonight.

Peeling my eyes off Mingi and Arin, I chewed on my bottom lip and quickly typed out a ‘What are you up to right now?’. I waited, raising my head to look at Mingi again. He was in the middle of reaching out for Arin’s hair, but at the ding of his phone, he smiled sheepishly and looked down, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Arin watched expectantly as Mingi said something to her, then he unlocked his phone and started typing. I watched the three bubbles appear on my screen and calmed down for a second. Maybe I was overreacting. Mingi was a friendly person; if it hadn’t been like this before, I wouldn’t have become so jealous and worried if I saw him interacting like this with another girl. Maybe I was the issue, maybe Mingi was right all along. I had to fix my problems before I would lose Mingi. The bubbles disappeared and Mingi’s message came through just as Arin peeked at his screen, making Mingi pull his phone towards his chest so she wouldn’t see.

‘I’m in the library catching up on some material. Professor Ahn is after my ass, it’s really annoying. What are you up to, baby?’

At first, I didn’t react. I didn’t know how to. A surprised huff left my lips, and I smiled, feeling my hand tremors worsen as I took a step back to be able to lean against the wall. Then, looking up from my phone to see Mingi’s fingers dance down Arin’s arm forced a hysterical laugh out from my lips. I was frozen, with a racing heart in my throat, and my eyes blurred as I looked down at my phone. What was the purpose of it all? I gulped, pushing off the wall and heading for the exit instead of the back patio, my legs feeling heavy as they carried me down another flight of stairs.

‘Meet me in the parking lot, right now.’ I didn’t look back to see Mingi’s reaction as I pocketed my phone; I couldn’t even see in front of me as my brain worked on muscle memory. I pushed the double doors open, forcing my way through the small opening and hurting my shoulder in the process, but I didn’t register the pain as I turned to the left, headed for the parking lot, which I could see from my spot. People looked at me weirdly as I was trying to regulate my loud breathing, but I felt unable to do so as my heart raced and my hands shook. I didn’t understand anything at this point. Why would Mingi lie to me so blatantly? Did he think I’d get mad at him that he was speaking to Arin? Was I seriously a bad girlfriend, oblivious to my own restricting actions towards Mingi, which drove us to where we were now?

My eyes zeroed in on his blue BMW, and I hurried over, lump in my throat as I paced up and down while waiting for him. There was no guarantee he’d even check his phone again, but I’d wait for him here until his classes were over, then. I had to tell him, I had to ask him, I had to see him. It wasn’t fair that he was treating me like this; it just didn’t feel right. In my distressed state, I failed to notice Mingi approach me as I chewed my nails, eyebrows furrowed. The sky was dark, rainclouds gathered around and were threatening a downpour anytime now. I jumped when I felt arms around me from behind, a chin landing on my shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” Mingi’s voice was husky in my ear, then his plush lips pressed a kiss against my cheek, and I had to tense my muscles to stop myself from flinching away. I gulped, but my throat felt dry. I tried to take a deep breath, but my lungs felt restricted, so as gently as I could, I pried his arms off me and turned around to face him. He was so…Mingi. He was smiling from ear to ear, his beautiful eyes crinkled and making my heart race despite the heartbreak I was currently experiencing. His mole under his eye drew my gaze to it, and it made me wish I could trace it like I had done so before. He knew how much I loved his crooked teeth too, and yet, despite the man standing in front of me being someone I dearly loved once, I failed to recognise him right now.

“Hi,” I greeted, voice tight and breathy. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, and he tilted his head, “Did you have a hard day so far?”

He hummed, looking past me in thought before he reached out to intertwine our fingers. He leaned back against his car, and I gulped, feeling my heart race. If he would set himself right while we spoke now, I would forgive him and change myself and the way I’ve been reacting to him lately.

“Not really, but Professor Ahn gave me some exercises in plus to do for his next class.” Mingi rolled his eyes, “He says I’m behind compared to the others, which isn’t true. Wooyoung barely knows shit and he’s not treating him bad like me.”

“Wooyoung doesn’t skip his class as often as you do,” I mentioned, and Mingi pouted, his thumb rubbing my skin.

“Whatever, what about you?” Mingi changed the subject, and I hummed, hand tightening around my thermos.

“It was okay, I’m just tired from studying…” Mingi watched me curiously as I trailed off, preparing myself for my next words, “Sorry for dragging you down here from the…library.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then he smiled, shrugging nonchalantly, “Don’t worry, my baby. It was about damn time I got out of that stuffy place. Man, I swear they never open any windows despite everyone being cooped up in there, it’s so annoying. I think I’m developing a headache from all the burnt brain I had to smell in there, freaking geeks.”

He laughed at his own words while my muscles tensed, my heart chillingly slowing down. Somehow, despite the ache in my chest, it’s like I knew to expect this. It hurt, a lot, but a huge part of me knew he wouldn’t tell me the truth. The fact that he was with Arin, laughing and touching each other all up and not in the library, studying.

“I’ve just come from the library, peculiar, I didn’t see you there.” My tone was cold, and I watched as Mingi blanched, his happy expression turning into a careful one. He gulped and chuckled, but it didn’t sound so casual anymore.

“The library’s big, we must’ve missed each other.” Then he tugged on our intertwined fingers, making me close the distance between us, “What a pity, I would’ve loved studying together with you.”

I didn’t have time to react as he leaned forward, eyes watching my face before they fluttered closed, Mingi’s lips pressing against mine gingerly. I felt sick to my stomach as he kissed me with the same mouth that spewed so many lies, but the dam holding itself together in my chest finally broke. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, hard and a little desperate as I realised there was no going back for us. There was no fixing this anymore. I have stopped trusting Mingi, and once my trust was broken, it could never be mended. I fought the tears that threatened to escape my eyes as Mingi hummed against my lips, his taste familiar and once comforting. I knew his body like the back of my hand, I knew what he liked and what he didn’t. I would miss him, that was certain, but I couldn’t let myself break my back for a person who was possibly cheating on me. I pulled away with a heavy heart, taking a deep breath before I opened my eyes. Mingi was already watching me, looking almost afraid as his grip tightened on my hand.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered, low and reluctant as a bike wheezed past us, its engine loud. I gulped, my eyes finding his as I had decided that this was best for me.

“Let’s break up, Mingi.” I said just as quietly, afraid that if I spoke too loudly someone would hear us despite being alone in the parking lot filled with cars. Mingi didn’t react straight away, his eyebrows twitched before they slowly furrowed, his expression twisting into confusion.

“What?” His tone was harsh, raspy and almost aggressive, “What the fuck are you saying, Y/N?”

But I wouldn’t break, not in front of him, “I can’t do this anymore, Mingi. You’ve been lying to me for months and making me the villain, I feel crazy and like I’m overreacting all the time, when I’m not. You don’t tell me where you go anymore and what you do, or with whom you go. We both have our personal lives, and I’ve always respected that, but this is not okay—”

“You say we have personal lives and then flip out over me not sharing every little thing I do, Y/N?” Mingi snapped, releasing his grip on me and I was finally able to step back, “You’re being a fucking hypocrite right now. You are breaking up with me when I was willing to put up with your bullshit for so long? Seriously?”

I ignored the pang hearing those words made me feel, and scoffed, “Fuck off, Mingi, you weren’t even studying in the library! You were with Arin, fucking flirting and touching each other all up in the fucking main lobby of the university where anyone could see you two! I saw you, Mingi! So what the fuck are you even saying here?!”

At my outburst, Mingi froze. His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything as I scoffed, shaking my head at him. He gulped, looking to the side before he faced me again, but he still didn’t say anything.

“Tell me right now, did you cheat on me?”

“What?! No!” His eyes widened, looking stunned by my accusatory question, “I would never! What the fuck do you take me for? Do you seriously trust me this little? I thought we—love each other.”

“Love isn’t enough to keep a relationship going when trust is absent, Mingi.” I snapped, feeling my hands tremble all over again, “If you wouldn’t have lied so much, denying the fact that you were letting other girls be all over you and downplaying my feelings of worry, we wouldn’t be here, Mingi. It’s over, I don’t…I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore.”

“Y/N—”

“No, nothing you say will change my mind.”

Mingi watched with an open mouth as I turned on my feet, stomping away and leaving him standing next to his car as I felt tears in my eyes. My vision was blurry as I headed blindly in the direction of my own car, hands shaking so bad that I dropped the car keys. I crouched down to pick it up, but suddenly all the emotions I’ve been trying to reel in came pouring out like the rain that started pitter-pattering over our heads. I turned into myself as I cried, trying to keep my sobs quiet since the parking lot offered no privacy. Hearing the engine of his BMW e36 only made me sob harder, the screeching of tires making me flinch as Mingi peeled out from the parking lot. He wasn’t even done with his classes for the day yet.

The past week had been rough. I was under the weather most of the time, but my friends were understanding and didn’t push for answers until I was ready to talk to them about the recent changes. It was tough seeing Mingi knowing nothing was tying us to each other anymore. Meanwhile, I felt free like never before with a clear mind, my heart felt heavy as questions tugged at my mind whenever I allowed myself to dwell on the breakup and the reason behind it. It wasn’t easy letting go of someone who’d been a constant in my life for the past three years, but I was sure if I took one day at a time, I could allow the past to be just that…the past. And having a good support system meant the world in these challenging times. Yeri was nothing but a sweetheart, checking in with me often and coming up with activities that not only brought me out of my comfort zone, but created new memories that I couldn’t associate with Mingi. Due to my yearning to spend time with people instead of self-isolating, Yeri managed to bring together our old friend group from high school. It was jarring to see everyone in one place again, but it also felt amazing to catch up with the girls. They were more than eager to bring the team back together, and thus, that’s how I found myself out on a lovely Friday evening.

The pub we chose for our nightly endeavours was a different one we’d usually go to, just to make sure there were zero to almost none chances of us running into Mingi and his friends. From what I’ve been hearing from Yeri, Mingi wasn’t taking the breakup very well. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days, with dark circles under his eyes, and his appearance was mostly dishevelled, like he had little regard for his appearance. Something tugged at my heart when I caught a glimpse of him yesterday in the parking lot, shoulders hunched over and face expressionless, but I quickly got out of there before he could spot me. He’d still try to contact me from time to time, but after we’d given our belongings back to each other, I made it clear that I didn’t want him in my life under any circumstances. There were too many shared memories, I could never just look at Mingi and remember him fondly without remembering all the heartache he made me endure.

I blinked at the roar of laughter coming from the table next to ours, glancing over to see about five guys throwing cards onto the round table. They’ve been playing some card game for a while now, rowdy and louder than the rest of the pub. I didn’t mind much, but it was a little distracting from our own conversation with the girls as they were currently busy giggling over Sana’s new crush. We had been discussing politics right before and had gotten too heated, so a subject change was necessary. It’s not that I wasn’t happy for Sana, but I didn’t feel like ogling a man right now, so I didn’t lean over the table to see her phone screen.

“Okay, but his muscles are huge!” Minjeong exclaimed, her eyes round as if she were looking at her most prized possession. Yeri and Seulgi giggled, taking Sana’s phone as they zoomed in on the picture. Joohyun just sighed next to me, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

“They are no better than men ogling women’s tits, huh?” Her question made me burst out laughing, earning questioning glances from our friends. I shook them off and turned to look at Joohyun, my pint of beer empty.

“At least they aren’t making any lewd comments.” I might’ve jinxed that as Sana’s lips parted, a dreamy sigh leaving her mouth.

“Gosh, I wish I could suffocate between his man tits. Do you think he has a huge dick?” Joohyun looked done with Sana as Minjeong screeched, making the table of guys look over with questioning looks on their faces. Our table wasn’t exactly that quiet either, and I hoped they didn’t overhear my friends’ conversation; that would’ve been embarrassing.

“Obviously, he does!” Yeri shared a knowing look with Minjeong, “He’s like…huge everywhere.”

Sana squealed as she hid her red face behind her hands, and we laughed. Joohyun shook her head before unlocking her phone, and I scooted closer to her so that I could rest my head on her shoulder. I was slightly sleepy from the alcohol, but the night was young and I was actually enjoying myself. I didn’t have the time to mop around yet, and all of that was thanks to my friends. Nobody had mentioned Mingi, we hadn’t even been talking about boys until now. Joohyun’s Instagram feed was far more interesting than mine as she scrolled down the posts of celebrities as well as the posts of people she knew, and when she got bored with that, she decided to check out people’s stories. I yawned as I recognised a few faces in one of the stories, they were girls from our high school class.

“Have you kept in touch with them?” I asked Joohyun as she swiped to the next story.

“We speak sometimes, but we aren’t close.” She answered, her tone quiet and almost drowned out by the sounds in the pub. The table behind us cheered loudly again, and I flinched as I wasn’t expecting it. As Joohyun swiped to the next story, my body froze. The username was familiar, too familiar, and so were the people in the video. A girl, Arin, was running away from the person behind the camera, squealing as she held a basketball in her hands. The deep laughter was familiar, and it made me gulp around nothing as I sat up straight, muscles rigid as my hands curled into fists. Joohyun quickly swiped past the video just as the screen was flipped, Mingi’s face coming into view. She shut her phone off and turned to me with a guilty expression on her face.

“I’m so sorry—” I grabbed Joohyun’s hand before she could apologise even further, I didn’t mind. I really didn’t. None of my friends had any obligations to quit their friendship with Mingi, and Joohyun wasn’t even close with him. She only knew him through me and probably had even forgotten that she was following him.

“Don’t, it’s okay.” I said with a small smile as I grabbed my pint, “I mean it, Hyunnie, I don’t mind.”

Joohyun pouted as I stood up, pointing towards the bar, “I’ll get a refill, do you want something?”

She shook her head, still looking apologetic as I hummed, then slid out of the small booth-like space. The bar was just outside, all I had to do was step through the threshold and I’d reach it. The pub wasn’t too big, but it was rather cozy as it was filled with other university students, retro tunes playing through the stereos. The wallpaper was rather chapped, and posters of old bands tried to hide the brick that could be seen due to the tapestry falling off, but I didn’t mind that as it gave the place a certain vibe. The pub, after all, was inside an old house which was modified to fit a maximum of thirty people for busy Friday nights. The line to the bar wasn’t too long, and I passed the time by looking around, observing all the band posters, coming to the conclusion that I really liked this place and would love to come here again. I could only hope the girls shared my sentiment.

As I reached the bar, I placed my pint on the counter and waited for the person in front of me to pay for his drink before it was my turn. The bartender smiled as he noticed me, then wiped off the counter before he pointed at my pint.

“Want a refill of that?”

“Yup, thank you,” I said with a smile, leaning against the counter as the man took my pint, turning around to place it under the keg. Tapping my foot to the rhythm of a Britney Spears song, I read the menu on the wall to see if they had any shots that I could enjoy tonight, however, I was suddenly roughly jostled to the side. I gasped as my hands slipped from the counter, and I would’ve lost my footing if it wasn’t for the arms that were suddenly wrapped around my torso, yanking me back up right. My heart was racing as I turned my head with wide eyes, coming face to face with a…very cute guy. I gulped, speechless for a second as I was still too stunned to speak, now also a bit bamboozled by our closeness and his round cheeks, which looked soft to the touch.

“Holy shit! I’m so sorry!” His tone was light, melodic even, as he exclaimed in horror, his cheeks flushing a dark red, “My friends pushed me, I didn’t mean to knock into you like that. Are you alright?”

I gulped, feeling my own cheeks heat up when the guy’s hands slightly tightened around my waist. I wondered if he hadn’t realised he was still holding onto me, and I opted to ignore the weird uneven thump-thump of my heart, “It’s alright, don’t worry. You caught me, so I’m fine.”

I chuckled a little shyly, averting my eyes as the guy’s round and soft ones bore into my face. He was far from intimidating-looking, yet I felt small in his presence, which rarely happened. He wasn’t too tall, barely half a head taller than me, yet his embrace felt comfortable and warm. Almost as if he had just now realised that he was still holding onto me, he released me as if he had been zapped with a teaser.

“Fuck, I’m sorry about that, too!” He looked on the verge of tears, embarrassment very visible across his features. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I turned my head to hide it, bringing up my hand in front of my mouth.

“It’s okay, thank you for not letting me fall despite being the cause of my almost concussion.” The guy groaned as I looked back at him with a cheeky smile, distracted as my pint of beer was placed on the counter. The bartender looked at me expectantly, but before I could pay for my beer, the cute guy reached out and placed his hand over mine, trapping my hand against the cold counter.

“No, no, let me pay for it.” He said with a sheepish smile, “It’s the least I can do!”

Without mulling over the thought for too long, and since it’s been long since a man bought me a drink, I nodded, “Sure, okay. Are you not getting anything to drink, though?”

He grinned then looked at the bartender, pointing with his free hand at my pint of beer, “I’ll get one of those, too.”

The bartender hummed as he went to fetch a clean pint, then turned his back to us. The cute guy and I looked at each other at the same time, and I allowed my eyes to take in his features. He had sharp and high cheekbones, round, pretty eyes and cheeks that looked pinchable. His lips were curved and almost pouty, a pretty cherry colour, and a nose that complemented his features prettily. His hair was dark and parted in the middle, brushed out of his face and styled in a way that showed off his good looks. There was a light eyeshadow added to his eyes, which only enhanced their roundness, and I realised I was staring as he slowly averted his eyes. Then, he jumped and took a step back, the warmth from my hand disappearing.

“I keep touching you without your consent, I’m really sorry.” He said while rubbing his nape, still not quite looking at me, just in my direction, “I promise I’m not a creep, even though saying that makes me sound like a creep.”

I chuckled as the bartender gave the cute guy his drink too, and he paid with his phone as I decided to wait for him. I didn’t know if he expected anything from me now that he’s bought me a drink, but he didn’t look like that type of person. And at the same time, his energy felt comforting and calm. He glanced at me and looked a little surprised that I was still there, waiting for him. He hid his smile behind his pint of beer as he motioned for me to walk in front of him, and I returned his smile, taking off and leading the way.

“I’m Jongho, by the way.” He said as we walked around the people waiting at the bar, keeping close to one another since the crowd had significantly grown since we had made it to the bar.

“I’m Y/N.” I said with a smile and shook his hand when he extended it, stepping back inside the main room where our tables were, “The girls and I are having a night out, this is the first time we’ve come to this pub. It feels rather cosy and isn’t overflowing with jerks.”

I had no idea why I was running my mouth to a complete stranger; maybe the alcohol had something to do with it, but Jongho didn’t seem bothered by this fact. In fact, he looked almost excited that I didn’t let the conversation die.

“I’m also out with my friends,” Jongho said, sounding just as ecstatic as he looked. It made him really cute and I bit my bottom lip to try and hide the smile that threatened to grow on my lips, “This pub is our go-to place exactly because it’s hidden and doesn’t attract the frat bros.”

I chuckled but felt myself sour at the thought. It’s not that Mingi and his friends were frat bros per se, but at times, they certainly acted as if they were. Before I could allow my mood to worsen as the image of Arin in Mingi’s Instagram Story flashed behind my eyes, I shook my head and focused back on Jongho.

“I’ve been to one too many frat bro-like spots, so this is refreshing, and—” I blushed a bit when I noticed Jongho listening to me closely, paying attention to my every word, “Thank you for buying me a drink, you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, it’s the least I could do after I tumbled into you so harshly.” He said as he looked to the ground, shifting on his feet. I chuckled, but then narrowed my eyes at him playfully.

“I thought your friends pushed you?” I raised an eyebrow just as Jongho raised his head, eyes quickly widening.

“I—well, I—damn,” He groaned, his cheeks flushed again as he almost pouted, “Okay, I actually tripped on the carpet and went barrelling into you.”

I didn’t mean to laugh so loudly, but somehow that was endearing. Jongho’s eyes widened even more before he was giggling, watching me with softness in his eyes. I felt my heart rate pick up just slightly, my skin warming as I remembered the feeling of being in his arms. It wasn’t even bad, no, it was far from being uncomfortable or unwelcome. I gulped; a bit taken aback by my own thoughts as I cleared my throat.

“Well, thank you for being my hero even if you were the cause of my near death.” Jongho huffed, placing a hand on his hip and looking like a father who was about to scold their child. It looked funny as he held the pint of beer in his other hand.

“Now, that’s a bit too dramatic, don’t you think, Miss Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow, and I chuckled, looking off to the side. Talking to Jongho wasn’t too bad, I appreciated his humour and ability to match my energy.

“As long as you don’t hate me for it…” I didn’t mean to say that, but it slipped. I grimaced as I thought I had ruined the mood, reminded of the tantrums Mingi would throw anytime he thought I was too dramatic for his liking. But, instead of giving me a weird look, Jongho leaned in just slightly, a mischievous look dancing in his round eyes.

“I could never hate a pretty girl like you. Besides, if I’m free of charge for almost giving you a concussion, I think we’re even.” He winked and I snorted, looking down at my pint of beer as Jongho grinned to himself, standing up straight again. I didn’t know what to say to that, feeling slightly weird that a man who wasn’t Mingi had called me pretty, but at the same time, it had felt nice. Not knowing how to respond to his flirting—since it felt too soon to be mingling with other guys—I was just about to say goodbye to Jongho, but as I turned to look at my table, I was surprised to see unfamiliar faces sitting scattered around. The girls were laughing, cards placed in front of them now too. Jongho seemed to turn in the direction I had just looked in, and made a surprised sound in the back of his throat. I turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, curious as to why he had reacted like that.

“Uh, those are my friends.” He said as he pointed at the unfamiliar faces sitting at my table. My eyes widened as I glanced back at the table before looking back at Jongho.

“Really?” I asked, surprised, “Because those are my friends.”

I pointed at the girls as Jongho and I shared a glance, then burst out into giggles. That seemed to finally catch the attention of our conjoined friend groups, and Yeri’s eyes lit up when she saw me. She was subtle about it as she did a quick sweep over Jongho, but she said nothing as she threw her hand up in the air and waved at us.

“Y/N, you’re back!” She said loudly, grinning from ear to ear, “Guess what? The loud guys decided to join us—”

“You asked them if they’d like to sit with us.” Seulgi corrected, her eyes narrowed at Yeri. I chuckled, amused and not surprised by this at all.

“Yeah, after Hongjoong asked if we’d make a bet with him,” Yeri said as she stuck her tongue out, making Joohyun roll her eyes.

“And you stupidly said yes, he could’ve made you do something stupid.” Joohyun groaned as who I assumed was Hongjoong widened his eyes.

“I’m not like that!” The guy exclaimed as Jongho laughed, nodding to himself.

“He really isn’t,” Jongho said, and it seemed like the other girls finally realised that he was standing with me, “He’s a nerd who won’t shut up about his hyperfixations.”

A guy who had small and sharp eyes snickered, slapping the back of another guy who slightly resembled Jongho, “I thought that was Yunho, not Hongjoong.”

“Eh, they are different sides of the same coin.” Another guy said with a shrug as the guy who was called Yunho pouted, elbowing the sharp-eyed in the ribs. Jongho sighed next to me, then looked at me just as I glanced at him.

“My friends are embarrassing.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” The same sharp-eyed man deadpanned, and Jongho just shrugged. To my surprise, the next person who spoke up was Sana.

“Is he the guy you said was getting himself a drink at the bar?” Her face read mischief, and I gulped, subtly shaking my head at her. I hoped she wouldn’t say anything embarrassing or crazy. Hongjoong nodded, beckoning Jongho over, “Would you look at that? It looks like he and Y/N already know each other!”

“Right,” I quickly said as I sat down in my previous seat, surprised when I realised Joohyun actually sat close to the man with sharp and small eyes. She felt my questioning gaze because she shrugged, pointing at the cards in her hands.

“We’re playing a team game.”

“So, you and the new guy are now a pair!” Sana quickly said, elbowing another guy whose name I didn’t know to hand us cards. Jongho and I looked at each other as he shrugged, then he sat down next to me with a small smile on his lips.

“Well, howdy partner?” He clinked his pint of beer against mine, and I laughed, taking a large gulp of my beer so that Jongho wasn’t the only one doing so. I ignored the looks my girlfriends gave me as Jongho and I huddled close together to start strategizing about our winning plan. It felt nice being in his presence, and he was a funny person that I felt like I’d get along with really well despite not having known him for long.

Thoughts of Mingi and Arin were the least of my worries as the night progressed, my tummy aching from how much I’d laughed in Jongho and his friends' presence, a pleasant buzz from the alcohol warming my body like none other. I was grateful I had decided to go out tonight.

I had overslept this morning and completely missed an important class. I groaned as I rubbed my eyes, dry and heavy from lack of sleep. I sighed as I reached over for my phone, hand knocking into the small lamp on my bedside table, almost knocking it over. Since my phone was on do not disturb, I had missed Yeri’s desperate messages asking whether I was deliberately skipping first class or if it was the result of oversleeping. Well, I chuckled as I typed back that it was the result of not going to sleep at a reasonable time. I knew it would bite me in the ass in the morning, but I had decided to brave through another chapter of the manhwa I was reading, only for that chapter to turn into another one, then another one, and another one, and—yeah. Getting ready once I sluggishly dragged myself out of bed was easy, as I had to be on time for my next lecture, where I had to present the term paper I had finished a few days ago.

Over the weekend, after having met the group of friends at the pub, I felt like I could breathe again. It’s like the dark cloud hovering over my head had dissipated, not as menacing as it used to be. That didn’t mean, however, that Mingi was completely forgotten. I couldn’t simply forget him in the span of a few hours or days, hell, possibly even months. He was too deeply etched into my being, a part of my soul which I was now trying to slowly remove. Saturday had been fine, almost fun, but yesterday had been a nightmare. My heart was heavy, and I was on the verge of bursting into tears anytime. I couldn’t even let my cat cuddle me because it reminded me of the times Mingi and I would lie in bed and beckon her over, giggling as she nestled in between our bodies. We’d often joke around and say that’s what our future would look like once we had kids, because yes, at some point in time, I had sincerely thought Mingi and I would never part ways. That he was the one for me, my partner in crime and life, forever my soulmate. But I was wrong, and Mingi wasn’t with me anymore, and he’d never be no matter how hard he tried begging his way back.

As I had brushed my teeth, my phone buzzed, and thinking it was Yeri, I opened the message without looking first. I froze for a second as I looked at the screen, somehow not surprised to see that Mingi was trying to reach out again. I had asked him to leave me alone before, I had even threatened to block his number, but it seemed like he didn’t care. I sighed as my eyes ran over the text messages, toothbrush hanging from my mouth.

Good morning, I’m sorry to text you again…

I met up with Yeri in the parking lot

We spoke

She told me you went out on Friday

How was it? Did you enjoy yourself?

Did you…meet someone?

I miss you, baby

Can we speak? Will you please answer me? I have something to tell you.

It’s important, I promise!

I know you’re reading my messages, baby, it’s saying ‘read’

I feel like…I upset you

Did you see my story on Friday night? It was nothing, I swear

I was in the park when Arin ran into me, and we just…hung out afterwards

Baby, can you please stop ignoring me?

Y/N?

I fucking hate this, please.

I sighed, putting my phone to the side as I spat the menthol paste into the sink, turning on the faucet again. My eyebrows were furrowed as I looked at myself in the mirror, jaw clenched tight. I was irritated by Mingi’s insistence, at this point, I just wanted him to understand that we weren’t getting back together. What more did he need? Did he think I wasn’t hurting just because I broke up with him? I scoffed and splashed my face with cold water, the cleanser softening my skin once I was done washing up. My phone buzzed again, and I groaned loudly, mentally preparing myself to shut Mingi down for once and for all, but I paused. A friend request was the first notification that showed up, before my phone buzzed in my hand again, and a message request came through. My eyebrows furrowed as I read the familiar username, clicking onto the Instagram notifications with mild curiosity. Choi_jongho had sent me a friend request along with a text message that caught me off guard. I accepted his request without much thought as I left the bathroom, then headed for my wardrobe as I read his texts.

Hi. Good morning, actually! Uh…I hope this isn’t weird, or anything…I asked Yeri what your username was, that’s how I know, I promise I didn’t creepily stalk you or something!

Now that makes it sound terrifying, doesn’t it? I’m not a stalker, I swear to God!

So, I think I’m done embarrassing myself. I just wanted to ask if you got home safely on Friday? Was the cab driver creepy? I can beat him up next time or something (I promise I’m a gentle soul!)

I’m starting to realise that since we aren’t yet friends and I’m blowing up your phone, this is really fucking weird and annoying…hope you don’t hate me yet!:D

I chuckled as I reread Jongho’s texts, my grin wide as I leaned against my closet door. I didn’t think his messages were weird or annoying; on the contrary, he was just as funny and endearing as in real life. After Jongho and I had partnered up for the card game, we quickly hit it off. While strategizing, we also figured out that we both loved listening to sappy ballads when we were feeling under the weather. Jongho loved cats, and he wanted to adopt his friendly neighbourhood cat, which would sneak inside his flat anytime it could, and he was more than elated to hear that I had a cat. Then, Jongho confessed that he wanted to become a singer before he found a new passion in life, so he was now just this cute guy walking around with a jaw-droppingly good voice—and I knew that because he had shown me videos of his singing at around our third pint of beer. I also found out that he wasn’t a light-weight, but the tipsier he got, the redder his cheeks became, hiccupping from time to time as he smiled a gummy smile and laughed melodically and loudly. One thing we both geeked out about—with Yunho joining our conversation when he overheard our excited rants—was the manhwas we read and were planning on reading.

Good morning, Jongho. Don’t worry, I don’t yet think you’re a creep or a stalker…that might change soon, depending on what you’ll be saying with a sober mind now. I got home just fine on Friday, thank you for asking! As for the driver, he was a sweet old man who offered to play whatever songs we wanted on the ride back. (And a gentle soul who knows how to fight? Sign me tf up!)

And that wasn’t it all. Morning had been a long time ago, and yet, Jongho and I were still talking. Although our replies came a bit slower as I was at university and he was at his part-time job, it didn’t feel awkward, and there wasn’t even one second which felt strained or weird. Speaking to Jongho came naturally for some reason, he was a very warm and playful person who understood my humour and was more than eager to return the snarky comments. I was enjoying myself, it helped me disconnect from the fact that my heart froze before it started racing, my body chilling at the sight of Mingi’s car in the parking lot. I tried to ignore the fact that I walked around campus like I was walking on eggshells, looking over my shoulder every few minutes to make sure I wouldn’t run into Mingi. It didn’t help that we also had classes in the same building, so I resorted to staying on my floor rather than wandering around and risking the chance of running into Mingi. I had spotted Wooyoung and Seokmin this morning; they both smiled at me as they waved, and I was glad that neither tried to approach me. I didn’t want to speak with them, I knew they’d go running to Mingi.

Lunch break was over, but Yeri and I didn’t have another class for the next two hours, so we decided to lounge around on campus, find a good spot where we could pass the time. I had just gone to the bathroom to wash up, my hands still wet as I left the restroom, drying my hands on my jeans. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I smiled, about to reach for it, but a sudden presence in front of me made me pause. I froze as I was face to face with Mingi, whose eyebrows were furrowed. His hair was cut, gone were the long strands framing his face, now the sides were nothing but a buzzed cut as the shorter strands fell over it. I remained silent as Mingi stared at me, opening his mouth, but he said nothing. My phone buzzed again, and I flinched, my muscles tensing as Mingi sighed, reaching forward. I hid my hand behind my back when he tried hooking his pinkie with mine, making his face contort into confusion.

“Hi.” He finally said, tilting his head as I didn’t look him in the eyes, but rather past him. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Why was he trying to make this hard for both of us?

“How are you?” He asked, and I sighed, jaw clenching as I finally looked at him.

“I’m fine, what do you want?” I asked, voice impassive and snappy. Mingi’s shoulders slouched forward, and he looked helpless for a second.

“Can’t I talk to you anymore?” He asked with a whine, and I sighed, taking a second to gather myself.

“No, Mingi, you can’t.” I didn’t want to raise my voice as people passed down the hallway, “We’re done, when will you understand that? I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, I told you already. Can you please respect my wish and just let go?”

“You want me to just let go of three years of our relationship?” He snapped, looking angry all of a sudden as he stepped closer, I didn’t move back, “Are you fucking kidding me, now? I thought you’d get over it. What do you mean you’re breaking up with me? Did you ask me beforehand? Did we discuss it? I don’t want this, I—”

“Did you or did you not cheat on me?” Mingi froze, eyes widening. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his body, making chills run all over my skin.

“I told you I didn’t, will you finally drop it?!” He hissed, shaking his head as if he were disappointed in me.

“No, I will not let it go. If you didn’t cheat on me, why were you speaking to other girls behind my back?” I raised my eyebrows, tired of having this conversation again. It’s like Mingi didn’t want to understand what the real issue between us was.

“I told you already—”

“That you did speak to other girls, so what the fuck do you want?” I huffed, prying his fingers off my body, “If you text me one more time, Mingi, I will block your number too.”

“Like you blocked me on Instagram, yeah.”

“Glad you noticed, it was about damn time.” I snapped before walking around Mingi, hearing him scoff loudly before the men’s restroom door was slammed shut loudly. My heart raced as a bitter taste entered my mouth, and I stopped walking, taking a deep breath as I felt my phone buzz again. I felt horrible. I didn’t want to fight with Mingi so much, I didn’t even want to see him anymore. He wasn’t the only one who was struggling with this breakup, I also missed him, I also wanted to talk to him and give him one last chance to fix things. But it wouldn’t work, I just couldn’t overlook all his lies anymore. There were too many questions whirling in my head, and even just the thought of another woman in his vicinity infuriated me. It wasn’t healthy anymore, and Mingi had to see that too. My phone buzzed again, and I closed my eyes before I fetched it, chewing on my bottom lip. I wasn’t surprised to see the picture of the cat Jongho was taking care of, a small black kitty. It looked adorable looking up at the camera curiously, and I chuckled, tears in my eyes. I sniffed and tried to hold in the tears, refusing to cry at university while I was looking at a cute kitten picture just after my ex-boyfriend made me feel like shit.

Look at her, she’s a gem

Her eyes are so cute, they remind me of yours, actually…not that I’m comparing you to a cat!

I just got home, finally, what’s up with you?

I took off again out of fear of Mingi coming out of the restroom and finding me in the hallway as I typed back a quick answer to Jongho that I was waiting for my next class to start, lounging around with Yeri. He sent me a cookie recipe as an answer, saying he had made a bet with San and that both of them had to bake twice a week something they didn’t like.

You don’t like cookies?! Jongho, are you a monster?!

I went down the stairs as I felt my nerves calm a little, less tense now that I was speaking to Jongho again. It’s not like Mingi wasn’t lingering in the back of my mind, his words ringing in my ears, but it was easier to focus on Jongho’s texts right now. They served as a good distraction.

Even if I’m a monster, I am not the Cookie Monster!

I chuckled under my breath as I was heading towards Yeri, about to tease him, when Jongho’s next message came through quickly.

Hey, ignore me if this is too sudden. But would you like to grab some coffee tomorrow? In the morning, if that’s okay with you. I don’t have work tomorrow and my classes are in the afternoon.

I froze, my heart thumping weirdly. Tuesday’s used to be Mingi and I’s go-to days to have breakfast before our classes. It somehow felt wrong to just…replace it by grabbing a cup of coffee with Jongho. But then again, Mingi and I were done, I wasn’t doing anything bad by meeting up with Jongho. He hadn’t specified that it was a date, which I would be highly uncomfortable with at the moment, and despite knowing Jongho for a short period of time, it truly felt like he just wanted to hang out before our classes. I gulped, ignoring the whispers telling me that I was betraying Mingi by agreeing, but in the end, I pressed send before I could overthink it.

Sure, but I have to get to uni by 11 am!

The evening was warm as Jongho’s shiny black Jeep rolled down the residential street, traces of a smile still lingering on his lips. Today has been amazing. We’d gone to a river and had a small picnic with homemade sandwiches and lemonade, which was way too sour. Jongho cringed even just at the mention of it, and I giggled as I smeared more blueberry jam on top of my cub sandwich. The weather was lovely this time of the year, and with exam season over, I was finally at ease again. The thought of not having to go to classes as well as face people I didn’t want to made the tight knot in my stomach uncoil, my days now filled with lazing around the house unless Yeri dragged me out for whatever reason. The library Jongho worked at was looking for more employees, so after Jongho’s recommendation and encouragement, I decided to apply for the job. I had made plans of going overseas before the summer break would be over, so a little pocket money wouldn’t hurt my wallet.

I hummed along to the song playing on the radio, Jongho’s quiet singing just as marvellous as when he was belting out high notes at the karaoke bar. The basket was in the backseat together with my purse, so my hands were free as I fiddled with my fingers, gazing out the window. The sun was setting, casting orange hues over the sky, and I sighed as I allowed my tired muscles to melt into the comfortable seat of Jongho’s car. The Jeep was spacious and expensive. Jongho took great care of his car and prided himself on how clean it always was. I liked how the engine wasn’t too loud nor rambunctious, or how Jongho’s aim wasn’t to show off but to have a comfortable and long-lasting ride. Sure, the car parts were expensive now, but as the years passed, the model would become less and less worth as much as initially. Not that Jongho cared about that, he was financially secure due to his well-off family. I smiled when I felt Jongho’s warm palm land over mine, and I flipped my hand so that we could intertwine our fingers.

The process of forgetting Mingi and leaving him in the past was slow and sometimes excruciating. Not much had passed since I put an end to our relationship; it would soon be somewhere close to two months. Not that I was counting. He’d still show up at times, bringing flowers to my house and asking whether I’d like to take a walk with him for ‘old times' sake’. I never wanted to, though, and I never accepted the flowers. Anytime I saw a blue car, my heart would lurch in my chest and make me wipe my head around to look for the model, for the brand, just to make sure it wasn’t Mingi. I can’t deny that my heart is still numb in his absence, that I don’t mull over all the what ifs in the safety of my bedroom, late at night when I should be asleep. Sometimes, all of it becomes a big mess in my head, in my heart, making me nauseous as I’d have to call or text Yeri or one of the girls to distract myself and stop myself from giving in and unblocking Mingi. He was doing well from the glimpses I’ve caught of him, but due to Yeri still hanging out with the rest of the boys, Wooyoung would often tell her that Mingi had turned to unsafe solutions to take his mind off me. I knew he was sleeping around now; it was a hard-to-miss fact when the campus wasn’t huge enough to drown out the rumours and the whispers.

But amid the storm in my head and heart, the rays of a warm sun were slowly breaking through the rainclouds. Jongho was by my side; he was here for me more than any of my friends had been, and I am grateful to him. If Jongho weren’t here, I probably would’ve handled the whole ordeal a lot worse and given in to the urge to just forgive Mingi, just one more time for the sake of memories and those three years we’ve spent together. Jongho was a great guy, he truly was everything I didn’t know I needed. He was attentive and careful, he liked to listen to my stories and he loved to entertain any far-fetched idea I might get, and he just…understood. He never pried and he never pushed or prodded, he allowed me to process things at my own pace, making sure he was there if things got too dark and too hard to handle on my own. He was a sweet soul, and he was warm. Sometimes I wondered if being engulfed in his embrace is what it would feel like hugging a domesticated bear. Jongho loved to live, and he had a special talent of wrapping you up in his happiness, in his joy, making you forget you even knew what sadness felt like.

We have never put a name to our relationship, because I wasn’t ready to date yet. I still saw Mingi in certain habits of other people, I still heard his voice in my head, I still couldn’t wipe his smile out of my mind, I still couldn’t forget the way his hands felt on my body, his cologne familiar and comforting, his eyes warm and making you feel like you were the only person in the room when he looked at you. I missed his proximity and I missed how comfortable and easy everything had been with him, and yet…when I looked at Jongho, I couldn’t dismiss the way my heart would start racing, the flush of my cheeks or the inexplicable desire to let him hold me until he became sick of me. We had started dating, that much we had established, but we weren’t together yet. I had no idea when it would happen, and I didn’t want to think about it for now. Seeing his car parked in my driveway still made me gulp harshly, Mingi’s blue BMW so vivid in my mind that I’d flinch away from the window and leave the house with disdain. And it wasn’t even Jongho’s fault that I was feeling this way.

“We’re here.” Jongho’s quiet voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I hummed, squeezing his hand as my heart felt suddenly heavy. Mingi and I had never done a picnic, I had just realised. I chuckled under my breath, feeling a little bittersweet, because today had been one of the happiest days of my life. Jongho and I hadn’t even done anything big, just sat on a blanket while we ate whatever we had packed from home, then lay down on said blanket and cloud gazed until a small spider crawled on Jongho, making him panic before I took it off him, “Are you okay? You’ve gotten really quiet, love.”

My heart fluttered at the endearing petname and I hummed, facing Jongho as I nodded, “I’m fine, just lost in thought, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” He chuckled, turning his body to face me as he pushed the stray strands of my hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear, “Are you tired? You look tired.”

I chuckled as I nodded, stifling a sudden yawn, “Yes, I’m quite sleepy. Being out the whole day drained me.”

“Right, me too.” Jongho giggled, “I feel like a child again, the last time I was out and about for this long was…many years ago.”

“Now, don’t dramatize, Jongho.” I teased with a laugh, and Jongho huffed, playfully rolling his eyes, “Thank you for the picnic today, I had so much fun.”

Jongho grinned, his smile cute and endearing, and I had to stop myself from pinching his pink cheeks. He was so easily lovable, sometimes I had no idea why my heart wasn’t filled with love for him.

“I’m glad! Because I also had a lot of fun—except for when that spider crawled on me, that was terrifying and disgusting.” Jongho shuddered as I snorted, narrowing my eyes at him.

“I never thought I’d see the day Choi Jongho is afraid of something.”

“Love, I told you, bugs are the only thing on this Earth that will scare me.” Jongho shuddered as he said this, and I squeezed his hand, leaning over and pressing a kiss against his cheek without thinking first. His skin was soft and warm, turning redder by the second. He froze, and I said nothing as I pulled slightly back, gulping nervously. I didn’t mean to suggest anything by kissing his cheek, but he was too cute not to do so. Silence stretched on as Jongho’s eyes searched my face, and I looked down, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. I wasn’t ready to devote my heart to Jongho yet, and here I was, leading him on and playing with his feelings. Was I better than Mingi? No, I was almost even more terrible compared to him.

“Y/N,” Jongho said quietly, and I felt him cup my cheek. He raised my head as he smiled at me softly, “It’s okay, stop thinking so much and so hard. You know you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, right? If you need more time…to get over Mingi, I’m here. I’m willing to wait, I actually—I just really want to wait because I feel many things for you and I don’t want to lose you.”

That didn’t help as the guilt spread more through my chest, but I made sure he couldn’t read my expression just yet, “I appreciate that, Jongho, I really do. But are you willing to live in the shadow of the man I loved so much?”

“Yes,” Jongho’s answer was instant, “Of course, I am. Because I know it’ll be worth it in the end. We can be just friends, we don’t even have to go on any more dates. I’ll be content to just have you in my life, however way you want me.”

I huffed, sad and a little weak, but nodded my head, “Thank you. You already mean a lot to me, Jongho, I just need to…let go, for good this time.”

Jongho nodded, smiling gingerly as he caressed my cheek, and I returned the small smile. Knowing that I couldn’t live like this forever, that I shouldn’t let my heart break over a man that doesn’t deserve me anymore, I decided to give Jongho a real chance. I leaned closer, making sure my intentions were clear as his eyes widened slightly, but he closed the distance between us when I fluttered my eyes shut. It was a small peck on the lips, but it was enough to make my cheeks flush and my heart race wildly. That was all I needed as confirmation that I would be eventually over Mingi for good, that I was ready to leave the past behind. I pressed another swift kiss against Jongho’s lips before I pulled back, grinning at him as Jongho chuckled while shaking his head.

“Need help carrying that basket inside?”

“Now that you asked, yes.”

A letter to you, who will never see this:

Love can be innocent, fiery and passionate, gentle and constant, but love can also be painful and destructive, draining and so, so damaging. Loving you was all of these things. It had started as an innocent, unassuming crush, very childlike and unserious. But the more I saw you, the more I heard you, the more I listened to you, the more I spent time with you…it started turning into something more, into something I couldn’t define but desperately chased after. It was you whom I was chasing, your attention and your affection, it was you whom I wanted from the very beginning. It was mutual attraction, I know it was, but somewhere along the blurry lines of casual friendship and flirtatious, playful words, it turned into something malicious on your part. You wanted me, but you didn’t actually want me. You liked my attention, you liked how easy it was with me, you liked that you could see it on my face—in my eyes—that you had my affection. You wanted that, not who and what I was. You didn’t like my opinions, you didn’t like the fact that I stood up for myself, and you didn’t like the fact that I didn’t let you walk all over me. You wished for a mellow girl, a girl who would do anything for you, who would hand you the world, who would break her back to abide by all of your wishes.

I wasn’t that girl, and I’d never be that girl.

It started with a fleeting glance, with your voice always around me, with your friends surrounding me without me even realising it. It started with casual banter and the fact that I liked that you could mirror me: my behaviour, my words, my actions, my attitude. It felt like you understood me, that you saw me for who I was…but oh, was I wrong. This story actually started on a very cold Friday afternoon when we were both frozen and in desperate need to warm out numb limbs, our icy toes, and our refuge had been the cafeteria. We had known each other from those fleeting glances, from hearing about each other from others’ conversations, yet then, there in that cafeteria, we had sat at the same table. We talked like we knew each other since forever, we laughed, and we teased each other because that's how we were. Easy-going and playful, rarely meaning the things we said. But then…when you left…you did something that made my heart flutter. You hugged me, and I didn’t like to be touched. You stood up, paused, then turned around, pointed at me and said, “I will hug you”. I was confused, I didn’t know how to react for a second, but I rolled with it. No boy had said that before, and now, much time later, I realise that’s how you were. Physically affectionate and good at love bombing. So, we hugged, but if I knew you’d damage me the way you had, I would’ve never let you touch me. I would’ve never sat with you, and I would’ve never bothered engaging with you.

After that, everything is just…unimportant. Whatever happened between us is for us to know. You were mean and bad, you know you used me and I know it too, but we can’t reverse time. And even if we could, I wouldn’t want to reverse time because I was so enraptured with you back then that I’d let you do everything you had done to me all over again. I can still vividly remember the way you made me feel, the way you made my skin crawl if I wasn’t the object of your attention, the way you made me anticipate every moment I knew I’d be in your presence. Thinking back now is just silly, how lost I was, how desperate I was to finally love and be loved. It’s silly and perhaps even embarrassing, I recognise that, but if anything…you had taught me another lesson. A lesson that losing myself wasn’t worth it, not when the man of your desire wouldn’t give himself to you fully. And I had learned this lesson, don’t you worry, I’d never let a man destroy my mental health as much as you had done…so thank you for that, it was a valuable lesson.

There were good and bad moments, moments I sometimes still fondly recall despite all the suffering I endured due to you. I realise, sometimes, I was too in my head to realise I might’ve been making up things, and yet, you were always feeding into these delusions. So, if they were truly just in my head, how come you could see them and make them worse? Questions and questions that would remain unanswered, because if I’m being frank, I can’t even look at you anymore. I don’t want you, but I do resent you…And I think I will for a very long time. Or at least until I’m old enough to barely remember your name, memories of us lost somewhere deep in my subconscious.

As for how this story ends…I think we all already know. Our story has long ended, there’s no more us, no me and you in the same sentence. As for that girl whom you played while playing me as well, I hope she can trust you like I never would’ve. I hope, for her own good, she lives a blissfully unaware life by your side, loving you unconditionally for as long as you need her to. And despite feeling stupid and silly sometimes, if I hadn’t meant anything to you, you surely wouldn’t have completely wiped me from your life. You made sure there were no traces left of me, even though I removed myself, once I realised there was no use in hanging onto this anymore, and I hope you regret driving me away every single day. We would’ve worked if you had taken me more seriously, but at the end of the day…did I want us to work? You checked off everything I liked and wanted in a man, yet that wasn’t enough. I hate the idea of you ever reading this, because you do not deserve to know the full extent of my true feelings for you, but if you do stumble across his letter one day…hear this:

I don’t wish you the best. Don’t ever again come near me.

...No, his car isn't yours

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yunholic-jongholic · 11 hours ago

Text

Always, Again | C.JH x Reader

SUMMARY | After a vulnerable conversation about intimacy, you and Jongho begin to rediscover each other—emotionally and physically. When distance and routine threaten your connection, a spontaneous lakeside getaway becomes the turning point. Through slow mornings, quiet nights, and deep, healing intimacy, you rebuild trust and affection. What began as tension transforms into something steady and real—a mutual promise to keep choosing each other, not just in love, but in the everyday moments that matter most.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | One Shot, Smut, TON OF SMUT, FLUFF, Teasing, Unprotected Sex (Don't do it), Creampies, Multiple Orgasms, Shower Sex, Office/Work Setting Sex, Public Sex (Kinda), Aftercare, Some Internal Anxiety, Overwhelmed Work, Some Stress, F L U F F. S M U T.

WORD COUNT | 12.7k

AUTHOR NOTE | Yes, Another Jongho Fanfic. :] This one is a bit long but a bunch of smut. :3 a TON of smut. He can't keep his hands or thoughts off of you ;)

•

You and your husband Jongho were out for a late dinner. Normally, you'd be completely drunk by this point, but tonight you'd only had enough to feel a comfortable buzz. Jongho, meanwhile, focused on his food and only took a few small sips—he typically reserved his drinking for when he was home.

The car ride home had been quiet, your earlier conversation still hanging heavy in the air. You and Jongho had somehow drifted into a discussion about your relationship—about the things left unsaid, about boundaries neither of you had dared to push until now.

And then he said it.

“I was wondering… would you be okay with me having sex with you whenever I want? Even if you're not in the mood… or if you're busy?” His voice was calm—too calm. The car rolled to a stop in front of the house, but he didn’t move. Instead, he turned to face you fully.

Your pulse spiked. “What… what is this really about, Jongho?” you asked, your voice barely steady. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, your chest, down to your fingertips. He didn’t answer right away—just blinked, slowly, like he was choosing his next words with care. Or hesitation.

You exhaled, the silence stretching. “Seriously. What are you trying to say?”

“That’s it,” he said plainly, before opening the door and stepping out.

You followed quickly, heart pounding, that tight knot twisting deeper in your stomach. Inside the house, everything felt louder—the quiet hum of the fridge, the soft click of Jongho’s keys hitting the counter, your own breath.

He made his way to the kitchen without missing a beat, poured himself a drink with a steady hand. “Want anything, Y/N?” he asked, voice low, eyes flicking toward you.

You shook your head as you dropped onto the sofa, still reeling. “No, thanks,” you murmured, but your mind was racing—circling back to his words, the question, the implication behind it.

He returned, the drink in his hand barely touched, and stood across from you. The silence between you thrummed with tension. And finally, you spoke.

“I’ll do it… but only on one condition,” you said, your voice sharp with nerves but laced with something else too—something daring.

He shrugged off his coat slowly, deliberately, and you couldn’t help but follow the motion—the slide of fabric, the way his shirt clung to his frame, the unreadable expression carved into his face.

He caught your gaze. “What condition?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

You took a breath and met his eyes, heart pounding. “If I’m not in the mood… you owe me dinner. Every single time. Before or after. No exceptions.”

He stepped closer, towering over you, and leaned in—close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheek. His lips curved into a slow smile.

“Deal.”

Jongho’s smile lingered, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something else there—something thoughtful, almost hesitant. He stood above you for another second before finally sitting down beside you, the cushion dipping slightly under his weight.

Neither of you said anything at first. The air was thick, not with anger or discomfort, but with the weight of honesty that had nowhere else to go.

You glanced over at him. “Was that hard for you to ask?”

He let out a quiet laugh, low and dry. “You have no idea.”

You studied his profile—his jaw tight, eyes forward like he was still trying to figure out what your answer really meant. You reached for the hem of your sleeve, fidgeting.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you said quietly. “It’s just… something about that question—it caught me off guard. Like you were asking for more than just sex.”

“I was,” he said without missing a beat.

That surprised you. Your eyes met his, and this time, he didn’t look away.

“I’m not trying to take something from you,” he continued. “I just want to know that I don’t have to tiptoe around you. That if I want you—if I need you—I don’t have to wait for the stars to align.”

Your throat tightened a little. “So, you’re asking for permission to be selfish sometimes.”

“I’m asking for trust,” he said simply. “Even when it doesn’t make perfect sense.”

You nodded slowly, his words sinking in. It wasn’t just about control, or desire—it was about closeness. Safety. The kind of intimacy that didn’t always look romantic but meant everything.

“Okay,” you said again, more certain this time. “But the dinner rule stays. No skipping it.”

His mouth curved into a real smile this time—quiet, genuine, and full of that rare softness he rarely showed. He reached out and brushed a knuckle gently along your jaw.

“Deal,” he murmured.

You leaned into his touch without meaning to, your body responding to the unspoken understanding between you.

And in that moment—no urgency, no pressure, just the quiet hum of everything unspoken—you felt something settle inside you. A kind of closeness that had nothing to do with proximity.

Just presence.

Jongho’s hand lingered at your jaw, his thumb brushing along your skin like he wasn’t ready to pull away. His gaze softened, searching your face—not for permission, but for understanding.

You tilted your head slightly, letting your eyes close for a brief second, just feeling the warmth of him. When you opened them again, he was still watching you. Still there.

“Why now?” you asked, voice quiet but steady. “Why bring this up tonight?”

He exhaled through his nose, sitting back a little, though his knee still touched yours.

“I think… I needed to know if I could be seen. All of me. Not just the parts of me that are easy to love.”

That answer sat in your chest for a moment, heavy in the best way. You nodded slowly, your fingers tracing the seam of a throw pillow in your lap, grounding yourself.

“You are,” you said. “Even when you’re being a little reckless with your words.”

A soft laugh escaped him, and he leaned his head back against the couch. “Yeah, I know that wasn’t the smoothest way to ask.”

“It really wasn’t,” you smirked, nudging his leg with yours. “But I get it. And I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He looked at you again—really looked this time—and you could feel it, like something unspoken passed between you. Something real.

Jongho shifted closer, his hand moving to rest on your thigh, fingers light but steady. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t need to.

His voice dropped, quiet and serious. “Can I kiss you?”

That question hit differently—because he didn’t assume, didn’t lean in without asking. He waited.

You nodded once, your voice caught somewhere between your heart and throat. “Yeah.”

He leaned in slowly, giving you time to change your mind. And when his lips met yours, it wasn’t rushed or demanding. It was warm. Intentional. Like a promise, not a possession.

Your hand found his wrist as the kiss deepened just slightly, his fingers flexing on your thigh. When you parted, he didn’t pull away completely—just rested his forehead gently against yours.

“Still okay?” he asked.

You nodded, voice a breath. “More than okay.”

And for a moment, everything else fell away—just the two of you, close and honest, finally meeting each other in that in-between space where desire and care blurred into something else entirely.

Jongho’s forehead still rested against yours, and then you felt it—that subtle shift in his energy, the slight smile ghosting his lips.

“Well, I took you out tonight…” he murmured, voice low and warm. “Do you think you’re ready to be in the mood?”

The question wasn’t pushy. It didn’t carry any weight of expectation. Just a quiet invitation wrapped in familiar teasing. His breath tickled your cheek as he leaned back slightly, eyes flicking between yours.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Wow. You’re really trying to cash in on that deal already?”

He shrugged, playful but calm, his fingers still resting gently on your leg. “I’m just following the terms. Dinner first. I held up my end.”

Your lips curled at the corners despite yourself. He was ridiculous—but there was something about the way he was looking at you. Patient. Present. Like if you said no, he’d pull back without a word of complaint, but if you said yes… he’d make sure it meant something.

You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you studied him. “Maybe,” you said slowly, “but I don’t think I’m there yet.”

Jongho nodded, no disappointment in his expression. “That’s fine.”

He leaned in again, pressing a kiss to your temple—soft, lingering. Then he stood, stretching slightly, his shirt lifting just enough for your eyes to catch a sliver of skin before he turned toward the kitchen.

“I’m getting some water. Let me know if you want anything else,” he said casually.

You watched him walk away, the weight of his presence still clinging to you. Your body buzzed—not just from desire, but from the kind of intimacy that didn’t rush or demand.

And maybe… maybe you weren’t fully in the mood yet.

But you were close.

---

Later that night, the house was quiet.

The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence, along with the occasional creak of floorboards as one of you moved around. You were curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped loosely around your legs, scrolling absently through your phone—not really reading anything, just passing time while your thoughts drifted.

Jongho had disappeared into the bedroom after the kitchen, saying something about changing and giving you space. He hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t hovered. But the look in his eyes before he left still lingered in your mind—calm, but undeniably full of want.

When you finally stood and padded down the hall, the bedroom door was cracked open, soft light spilling out into the dark. You paused, your hand resting on the edge of the door.

Inside, Jongho was sitting at the edge of the bed, head tilted back, one hand resting loosely on his thigh. He looked over when he heard you step in.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, almost cautious. “You okay?”

You nodded, stepping in quietly. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

He gave a soft hum, like he understood without needing the explanation. You walked over slowly, then sat beside him, close enough that your knees touched.

“You weren’t wrong earlier,” you said after a beat, not quite looking at him. “About needing to be seen. I think I needed that too.”

Jongho turned to face you fully, his eyes softening. “I see you. Even when you don’t say much… I do.”

That did something to you. Your breath caught for a second, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and kissed him again.

This time it wasn’t careful. It was intentional. Your hands moved up to his shoulders, and his instinctively slid around your waist, grounding you against him. The kiss deepened slowly, heat curling at the edges of every movement.

You shifted, climbing onto his lap without breaking contact. His hands gripped your hips like he needed to be sure you were really there.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “I’m in the mood now,” you whispered.

His breath hitched. His fingers flexed against you. But still, he asked, “You’re sure?”

You nodded, your voice steady this time. “I want this. I want you.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed you again, deeper now, the kind of kiss that carried all the tension from earlier—the uncertainty, the vulnerability, the ache. His hands slid under your shirt, warm against your skin, but still gentle, still asking.

And as you moved together—slowly, deliberately—it wasn’t about claiming or taking. It was about choosing each other. Meeting in that space where desire met care, where you didn’t have to explain or hold back.

Just be.

Your breath mingled with his as the kiss pulled you deeper—slow and aching, full of everything unsaid. Jongho's hands moved up under your shirt again, fingertips brushing the curve of your waist with a reverence that made your chest tighten.

He didn’t rush, even though you felt the tension in his body—the restraint. His touch was firm, but patient. Like he was learning you all over again.

You reached down, tugging your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. Jongho’s eyes followed every movement, and when you looked at him—truly looked—there was no trace of dominance, no assumption. Just want. Just care. And a kind of quiet awe, like he couldn’t believe you were right there with him, saying yes with every breath.

His hands slid up your back as he leaned in, lips moving from your mouth to the edge of your jaw, down the side of your neck. Every kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, until you let out a soft sigh and your fingers tangled in his hair.

That was all the reassurance he needed.

He shifted, gently laying you back against the bed, following your body down. The mattress dipped beneath you, and his weight—solid and familiar—settled over you just enough to feel grounding. His mouth returned to yours, deeper now, hungrier, and you responded with a soft noise in the back of your throat, your legs parting to welcome him between them.

Clothes disappeared piece by piece between kisses and small, murmured words—nothing urgent, just small anchors of intimacy that made the space between you feel sacred. His hands roamed like he was memorizing you, and you let him—touched him in return, feeling his breath catch when your fingers grazed over his ribs, the dip of his waist, the line of his hip.

When he finally pressed into you, it wasn’t rushed—it was slow, deliberate, eyes locked to yours as if he needed to witness every flicker of feeling across your face. You gasped softly, your body arching to meet his, and he stilled, giving you that moment to breathe, to adjust, to feel him there completely.

“You’re okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You nodded, hand resting against his cheek. “Yes. Please don’t stop.”

So he moved—slow and steady at first, building rhythm like a shared breath. It wasn’t about friction. It wasn’t about power. It was about being known, completely, and still being held with care.

Every sound you made pulled him closer. Every whisper of his name made his movements just a little more purposeful. And when the pace deepened—his hips pressing into yours, the warmth pooling low in your belly—it felt like your entire body was answering a question you didn’t even know had been asked.

You came apart with his name on your lips, your hands gripping his back, nails biting just slightly into his skin. He followed not long after, breath ragged, a quiet curse whispered against your collarbone before he stilled above you, trembling slightly from the intensity.

Silence settled between you, not awkward, but full—rich with the weight of everything that just passed between your bodies.

He didn’t move right away. Just rested his forehead against yours again, both of you catching your breath, your heartbeats gradually syncing like they were remembering how to slow down together.

“I’m glad you said yes,” he murmured, his voice barely a breath.

You smiled, fingers brushing over the back of his neck. “So am I.”

---

The morning light filtered in through the curtains, soft and golden, casting faint lines across the sheets. The room was quiet, save for the occasional bird outside and the slow, even sound of Jongho’s breathing beside you.

You blinked your eyes open, body still heavy with sleep and warmth. The blanket had slid low on your hips, the air cool against your skin, but his arm was still draped around your waist—loose, protective, like even in sleep he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

For a moment, you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, heart strangely calm.

There was no rush of panic, no second-guessing. Just the quiet realization that something had shifted last night. Not in a dramatic way, but in the kind that settles deep—like trust being laid down brick by brick, quietly, steadily.

You turned slightly to face him. Jongho was still asleep, his lips parted just barely, hair a little messy from your hands. He looked peaceful. Honest, in a way people only ever look when they’re unguarded.

You smiled faintly, reaching up to trace a finger gently along his brow, then down the side of his face. His eyes fluttered open a moment later.

“Hey,” he rasped, voice low and rough with sleep.

“Hey,” you whispered back.

He shifted closer without thinking, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your collarbone. “What time is it?”

You glanced over his shoulder at the clock. “A little after nine.”

“Mm. Still early.”

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, your fingers moved through his hair slowly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And after a few breaths, you spoke.

“Last night… felt different.”

He pulled back just enough to see your face, eyes still a little unfocused, but attentive.

“Different good?” he asked carefully.

You nodded. “Yeah. Good. Real. I didn’t feel like I had to perform or prove anything. It just… was.”

Jongho reached up, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “That’s how it should be.”

There was a long pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just thoughtful.

Then he added, quietly, “You know, I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to be close to me this morning.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Because I asked for something selfish. Even if I meant it with care.”

You stared at him, then shook your head. “It wasn’t selfish. It was honest. And you gave me room to choose. That’s not selfish—that’s intimacy.”

He exhaled, eyes softening again. “You really see me, don’t you?”

“I do,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss his temple. “Even the hard parts.”

His arms tightened around you just a little, anchoring you to him. “Then I think we’re going to be okay.”

And in that quiet morning light, wrapped up in each other and a stillness that felt anything but empty, you believed him.

Neither of you said much after that. There didn’t need to be words—just the quiet rhythm of breathing, the warmth of skin against skin, and the rare comfort of feeling completely known. You stayed wrapped up in each other for a few more minutes before reluctantly pulling away, the real world already beginning to call you back.

Jongho stretched as you slid out of bed, offering a sleepy grin. “Don’t stay in the shower too long. You’ll make me miss you more than I already do.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, the lingering heat in your chest making it hard to say anything back. So you just tossed a towel at him and made your way to the bathroom.

The water helped clear your head, but it didn’t wash away the echo of last night. You could still feel it—like it lived under your skin now. A memory that wasn’t just about pleasure, but about being seen. Chosen. Held.

By the time you finished getting ready, Jongho was already in the kitchen, fixing himself a quick breakfast. He looked up as you passed, his eyes following you with a softness that wasn’t there the day before.

“I’ll text you later,” he said as you grabbed your keys.

“You better,” you replied, your tone light but full of something deeper.

Then you were out the door, the warmth of the house giving way to the chill of the outside world.

The moment you stepped into work, though, the energy shifted. The fluorescent lights, the low hum of chatter, the ping of notifications and looming tasks—it all felt heavier than usual. You walked in, shoulders a little tense, your mind reluctantly snapping into focus.

You sighed as you reached your desk, setting your bag down with a little more force than you meant to.

Back to reality.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket just as you sat down. You pulled it out, half-expecting an email or some early task waiting—but it was a message from Jongho.

Jongho: I know you're at work, but just wanted to say... last night meant everything. And so do you.

You stared at the screen for a second, lips parting slightly.

That tight feeling in your chest loosened a little.

Maybe the day would still be long. Maybe work would still be draining. But you weren’t going into it alone. Not really.

You started to type back, your fingers moving before your brain could catch up.

You: Meant everything to me too. I’ll be thinking about you.

And you would.

All day.

You stared at the message, the words echoing in your head as you whispered them under your breath.

"Thinking about you while in a meeting. I might be in the mood."

Your lips parted slightly, and you blinked at the screen, heat blooming in your cheeks before you could even stop it. Of course he’d text something like that now, right as you were packing up to leave. You looked around instinctively, making sure no one could see the way your expression had just shifted—or hear the sudden rush of air you quietly exhaled.

You typed back quickly, fingers still tingling:

You: Is that so? Bold of you to start something when I’m still on the clock.

Your phone lit up with his reply before you could even tuck it away.

Jongho: Timing is everything. You said dinner first, right? I was thinking of ordering in… unless you’d rather I cook.

You bit your bottom lip, smile pulling at the corners despite your best efforts. He was doing it again—walking that line between teasing and thoughtful, making you feel wanted in a way that didn’t pressure, just invited.

You grabbed your things and headed for the door, your heart beating a little faster now, the drag of the workday already fading behind you.

You: You cook, I’ll bring dessert. And maybe something else if you're still “in the mood.”

There was no immediate reply, but the typing bubbles started flashing, stopped, then flashed again. You could picture him reading that text—one eyebrow raised, lips twitching into that amused smile you’d seen a thousand times. Except now, it felt different. Closer. Warmer.

Jongho: Deal. But don’t be late. Mood’s already growing.

You stepped out into the evening air, the sky tinted with soft orange and purple, your pulse still tapping quick beneath your skin.

And just like that… you were in the mood too.

You didn’t even bother going home first.

Something about the way Jongho texted you—the timing, the subtle heat tucked behind his words—had shifted your whole trajectory. Instead of your usual routine, you turned your car in the opposite direction, toward the building you’d only been to a few times before. His office.

By the time you pulled into the parking lot, the sun was low in the sky, streaks of deep orange painting the tops of the windows. The building itself was quieting down—people filtering out, some lights off already. But you knew he’d still be upstairs. He always worked late when things got busy.

Your phone buzzed just as you stepped inside.

Jongho: Elevator’s waiting. 6th floor. Come find me.

You rolled your eyes, a small laugh escaping under your breath. The man had a flair for the dramatic, even in texts. Still, your heart thumped a little faster as the elevator doors closed behind you, humming softly on the way up.

When you stepped out onto the sixth floor, the office was mostly dark—just the low glow of ambient light and a few scattered desk lamps. You followed the faint sound of music playing from somewhere deeper inside, a soft instrumental track that echoed through the open space.

And then you saw him.

Jongho stood by the window in his office, shirt sleeves rolled up, jacket draped over the back of his chair. He was nursing a glass of something dark in one hand, phone in the other. He looked up the moment you appeared in the doorway.

His smile was slow and warm. “You came.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely. “You tempted me.”

He set the glass down and took a few steps toward you, eyes scanning your face like he was memorizing it all over again.

“Wasn’t sure you’d actually show up here. Thought maybe you’d wait until I got home.”

“I figured I’d save you the trouble,” you said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. The sound echoed lightly through the otherwise empty office.

He reached out, his fingers brushing along your wrist before taking your hand gently. “You always do have good timing.”

There was something charged in the quiet, like the stillness before a storm—intense, but unhurried.

“Are we alone up here?” you asked, your voice dipping slightly.

He nodded. “Everyone’s gone. Just us.”

A beat passed. Then another.

You stepped closer, standing in the glow of his desk lamp now, the soft light casting shadows across his face. “So…” you said slowly, “about that mood of yours…”

He smiled, eyes dropping briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“It just got a lot stronger.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Neither did he.

But the silence between you wasn’t empty—it was thick with anticipation, like every breath was a step closer to crossing some invisible line. You watched each other, waiting to see who would move first.

Jongho’s hand was still holding yours, his thumb lazily brushing over your knuckles. It was such a small thing, but it felt intimate, grounding. Like he was saying I see you without needing the words again.

You broke the quiet first, your voice soft but laced with something unmistakable. “So this is where you think about me during your meetings, huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours. “This is where I try not to think about you during my meetings. Doesn’t always work.”

“Clearly.” You smirked, stepping forward until your bodies were nearly touching. “Sending me that kind of text while I’m trying to finish work? Dangerous move.”

“You liked it.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging. “You sure about that?”

Instead of answering, he reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered at your jaw, tracing the curve of it, then sliding down to your neck, slow and deliberate.

“Your face said everything,” he murmured. “You lit up when you read it. I could practically feel it from here.”

You inhaled, steadying yourself against the way your pulse jumped at his touch.

The air between you shifted—denser now. Like gravity itself had tilted, pulling you together without either of you having to move. His other hand found your waist, resting lightly, as if asking for permission without saying a word.

“I’m still in the mood, by the way,” he added, his voice dipping just above a whisper.

You looked up at him through your lashes. “And what happens if I am too?”

Jongho’s smile curved, slow and sharp, but his eyes stayed soft—grounded. “Then I lock that door,” he said simply, “and take my time showing you just how much I’ve been thinking about you.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you stepped even closer, so that your chest was brushing his, your voice barely a breath against his skin.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

His jaw tensed just slightly, and without another word, he turned toward the door and clicked the lock into place. The soft click sent a pulse down your spine.

He turned back to you, slower this time, like he was savoring the moment—letting the tension stretch just a little further. Then he walked toward you, purposeful now, and cupped your face with both hands, tilting your head up as his lips hovered just over yours.

“I missed you today,” he murmured.

“You’re about to make up for it,” you whispered back.

And when his mouth finally met yours, it wasn’t rushed—it was deep, full of quiet intensity, all the anticipation from the day melting into a single, breathless moment. His hands slid to your back, pulling you flush against him as the office—cold, professional, quiet—faded completely from your awareness.

Now it was just him. Just you.

And the way everything felt like it was about to unravel in the best possible way.

Jongho's kiss deepened, his hands spreading heat across your back as he pressed you closer, every inch of him saying you’re mine tonight. The air between you was thick now, laced with everything you’d both been holding back all day. Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling at the fabric, needing to feel more of him, needing less space between you.

He groaned softly against your lips when your hands slid under the hem, palms running over the warmth of his skin. You could feel his muscles shift under your touch—tense, coiled with restraint—but he didn’t rush. He let the moment build, slow and deliberate, until your legs brushed the edge of his desk.

You broke the kiss long enough to glance behind you. “Here?”

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he murmured, “Don’t tempt me unless you’re ready.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

That was all he needed.

In one smooth motion, Jongho guided you back until you were perched on the edge of the desk, his hands gripping your hips as he stepped between your legs. He kissed you again—rougher this time, more urgent—while his fingers worked at the buttons of your blouse, each one undone with care, not haste. Like he wanted to take you apart piece by piece.

You shrugged out of the fabric, letting it fall beside the stack of reports and office supplies. His jacket soon followed, then his shirt, both landing on the floor with soft thuds.

The contrast of your bare skin against the cold surface of the desk made you shiver, but his body was warm, grounding, as he leaned into you. His lips moved along your neck, your collarbone, teeth grazing lightly before soothing the sting with a kiss.

You gasped softly when his hands slid under your skirt, fingers pressing into your thighs. “Still in the mood?” he asked against your skin.

You tilted your head back, breath shallow. “It’s not even a question anymore.”

He smirked and lifted you just slightly, sliding you further onto the desk before lowering you gently onto your back. Papers scattered, pens rolled to the floor, but neither of you cared.

His fingers teased along the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate, watching your expression shift with every movement. And when he finally pushed your underwear aside and touched you—truly touched you—you arched off the desk, a breathless sound escaping your lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, voice rough with want. “Were you thinking about this on the drive over?”

“Maybe,” you breathed, barely able to focus as his fingers worked you open with excruciating care. “You made it really hard not to.”

Jongho leaned down, kissing you again—this time slower, like he was savoring the way your body reacted to every stroke, every shift of his touch. And when he finally slid inside you, it was with a low groan and his forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathless at the sudden, overwhelming closeness.

You clung to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he began to move—steady, deep, building rhythm that made your entire body tighten. The sound of your breath, your skin meeting his, the soft creak of the desk beneath you—it all blended into something rhythmic, heady, almost sacred in its intimacy.

Every thrust sent a new wave crashing through you, each one tethered to the way he held you, looked at you, whispered your name like a vow. And when you finally came undone beneath him, your nails dug into his back and your voice broke around his name.

He followed not long after, burying himself deep inside you with a groan, the kind of release that left him trembling as he collapsed against you, his arms braced on either side to keep from crushing you completely.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Just the sound of breathing, bodies slowly coming down from the high, skin slick with sweat and limbs tangled together on a desk that had definitely not been designed for this.

Then, finally, Jongho kissed your shoulder and whispered against your skin, “Definitely the best meeting I’ve had in this office.”

You laughed, breathless and dazed. “I’m not even mad about the paperwork we destroyed.”

“I’ll handle it tomorrow,” he said, grinning as he looked at the mess around you. “Worth it.”

He helped you sit up, smoothing your hair back, his hands lingering on your waist like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. And as you sat there—half-dressed, flushed, still catching your breath—you realized something.

It wasn’t just the heat that left you trembling.

It was the way he looked at you now.

Like you were more than a moment. Like you were his choice.

---

The city was quieter by the time you made it back to the apartment.

Jongho had insisted on driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting over your thigh the entire ride home. Neither of you said much. You didn’t need to. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was full, content, still humming with everything you’d just shared.

When you stepped inside, the apartment smelled faintly of the morning’s coffee and Jongho’s cologne that still clung to the air. You slipped off your shoes and stretched, your body sore in the best kind of way.

Jongho set his keys down, then turned to you with a crooked smile. “Hungry?”

You gave a soft laugh. “After that? Absolutely.”

He nodded toward the kitchen. “You sit. I’ll cook.”

“You sure?” you asked, watching him already roll up his sleeves like he had something specific in mind.

“I owe you dinner, remember?” he said with a teasing glint in his eye. “That was the deal.”

You smiled and padded over to the couch, curling up beneath the throw blanket while he moved around the kitchen. The sound of him pulling pans from cabinets, chopping vegetables, humming softly to himself—it was a kind of domestic peace you didn’t realize you needed.

Every now and then, he glanced over at you, eyes soft. And every time, you felt your heart squeeze just a little tighter in your chest.

It wasn’t just the sex. It was everything that followed. The way he cared. The way he listened. The way he moved through a shared space like he belonged there—with you.

Dinner was simple—rice, stir-fried veggies, a fried egg on top, and a little sauce drizzled just the way you liked it. He placed the bowl in front of you and sat beside you with his own, legs brushing yours under the coffee table.

“Not bad for an after-hours meal,” you said after the first bite, savoring the warmth.

He smiled, watching you eat more than he touched his own. “You always make that face when you like something.”

“What face?”

He mimicked it—eyes half-lidded, exaggerated sigh—and you burst into laughter, nearly choking on your next bite.

“Okay, rude,” you said, swatting at him playfully.

“Rude but accurate,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re happy.”

The words landed in your chest and stayed there, warm and lingering.

Before you could respond, he stole your fork and scooped up the last bit of rice from your bowl. “Say ‘ah.’”

Your face turned pink as you narrowed your eyes at him, but you leaned in anyway, taking the bite as he watched with way too much satisfaction. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled around your food.

“And you love it,” he said smugly, brushing a thumb over the corner of your mouth to wipe away a grain of rice.

You chewed and shook your head fondly. “I should take a shower.”

“Why don’t I join you?” he said instantly, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

You gave him a look and rolled your eyes. “The last few times you joined me in the shower ended with me needing another shower.”

He just laughed as you stood, patting his shoulder on your way to the sink. “I regret nothing.”

You started washing the dishes while he hovered nearby, not helping, just watching you with a sleepy kind of affection that made your stomach flutter more than it should’ve. Once you finished and wiped your hands, you turned toward the bedroom to grab some clothes.

You’d barely opened the drawer when you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind. Jongho pulled you back gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I promise,” he murmured into your skin, “I won’t do anything in the shower.”

You arched a brow. “That’s a bold promise.”

“I just want to keep you company,” he said, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I swear.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch his expression. His eyes were soft, not scheming this time—just sincere, maybe a little sleepy, and entirely too endearing.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh, grabbing a towel and your clothes. “But if you so much as look at me funny in there, I’m kicking you out.”

“No funny business,” he said, grinning. “Scout’s honor.”

You scoffed, heading toward the bathroom with him trailing after you like a shadow. “You’ve never been a scout.”

“I was for five minutes once,” he said proudly. “Got kicked out for trying to light a fire indoors.”

You snorted, turning on the water and stepping inside as steam began to fill the space. He followed, true to his word—for now—keeping a polite distance even as his eyes occasionally wandered.

And as the water ran down your bodies and the quiet sounds of your breathing filled the small space, there was a kind of comfort there. A rhythm. The kind of moment that wasn’t about desire or teasing, but about simply being—together, close, and safe.

Still, as you rinsed your hair and turned to grab your towel, Jongho leaned in, eyes glinting.

“You know,” he murmured, voice barely above the sound of the water, “technically... you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

You paused.

And then sighed.

“This is why I always end up needing two showers.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around you once more, pressing a kiss to your wet shoulder as the water poured down. “But you never really complain.”

And the truth was—you didn’t.

Not when it was him.

You turned to face him fully, water slipping down the curves of your body, and met his eyes—already darker, the shift subtle but unmistakable. That quiet heat you’d thought might be settled for the night was rising again, slow and steady like the water sliding down your spine.

"I guess I can't have a break with you," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck with an exasperated smile.

Before you could even blink, Jongho’s hands were on your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as your back pressed up against the cool glass of the shower door. The temperature contrast made you gasp, but his body was there, grounding you, holding you like you weighed nothing.

“We are having a break,” he smirked, his lips brushing your cheek, then trailing to your jaw. “A really... refreshing one.”

Your breath hitched as you tilted your head, granting him more access, feeling his mouth move along the side of your neck—slow, deliberate. He wasn’t teasing now. He was tasting.

“You said no funny business,” you murmured, though your legs had already instinctively wrapped around his waist, your fingers curling tighter at the nape of his neck.

“This isn’t funny,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m dead serious.”

He rocked into you gently, not quite giving in—but close enough to make your breath stutter. The way he held you—firm, controlled, yet reverent—sent a wave of heat rolling through your already sensitive body.

“Jongho—”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression half-mischief, half-need. “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low, rough around the edges. “Right now, and I will.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding, water dripping between your bodies like a soft metronome.

But you didn’t want him to stop.

Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when your body was already aching for more of him.

Instead of answering with words, you leaned in, pressing your mouth to his with a slow, heated kiss that left no room for doubt. His grip on you tightened instantly, a quiet groan rumbling deep in his chest.

That was the answer he’d been waiting for.

He shifted you slightly, adjusting his hold, and began moving against you again—this time more deliberate, more focused, the space between your bodies filled with friction and breathless tension. Each roll of his hips sent sparks up your spine, and your back arched, pressing further into the door, into him.

The steam around you thickened, but you didn’t feel the heat of the water anymore. Only his touch. His mouth. The sound of your name on his lips, raw and full of want.

What started as a joke turned into something else entirely.

Something slow.

Something electric.

Something only the two of you could make feel like both fire and home, all at once.

Jongho's mouth moved hungrily against yours, his breath hot and ragged between kisses as he pressed you harder into the glass. Your fingers threaded through his wet hair, tugging gently as your hips rolled instinctively with his, chasing friction you both already craved.

His grip under your thighs tightened, grounding you as he shifted again, positioning himself with practiced ease. You could feel the weight of him between your legs, hard and ready—his restraint slipping more with each second, but still holding back, just barely.

Your foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the thick steam, and he looked at you like he needed to memorize this version of you—flushed, soaked, trembling, completely his.

“You still sure?” he asked, voice husky, reverent.

You didn’t hesitate.

“Take me.”

The last thread of control in him snapped.

He adjusted his stance and pushed into you with one deep, smooth thrust, your back arching against the glass as he filled you completely. The stretch, the depth—it made you gasp out his name, your hands clawing at his shoulders as your entire body lit up from the inside.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head dropping to your neck. “You feel—so good.”

His hips started to move, slow at first, almost teasing despite how desperate he clearly was. Each thrust rocked you gently against the shower door, water cascading over your bodies, mixing with the heat of your breath, your moans, the soft slap of skin meeting skin.

He held you like you were something precious, even now—one hand gripping under your thigh, the other trailing up your back, fingers splaying across your shoulder blades like he wanted to touch all of you.

And you clung to him just as tightly, nails biting into his damp skin, your body moving with his as he built a rhythm that was deep and steady and so intimate.

You buried your face into his neck, your voice muffled and breathless. “Jongho—faster.”

He obeyed instantly, pace increasing just enough to make your thighs tighten around his waist, your moans turning into soft, broken sounds with every thrust. The tension coiled low in your belly, rising fast, sharp and overwhelming in the best way.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice cracking with want.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes—and the look in them nearly unraveled you. It wasn’t just lust. It was something deeper. Like he couldn’t believe he got to have you like this. Love, raw and unfiltered, behind the heat.

Your release hit you suddenly, your entire body clenching around him as you cried out his name, head tipping back, mouth parted in a silent gasp as everything inside you pulsed.

Jongho held you through it, fucking you through every wave until your legs were shaking, his own breath hitching as he lost himself in you.

He groaned your name against your neck, thrusting deeper, rougher, and then finally stilled—buried in you to the hilt as he came hard, his whole body shuddering as he spilled inside you, arms locking around your waist to keep you from slipping.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Just the sound of water, your breathing, your hearts pounding together.

Jongho rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, still inside you, still holding you like he never wanted to let go.

Eventually, he smiled—soft, dazed. “So… that break went well.”

You let out a breathless laugh, forehead tipping to his. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” he whispered, kissing you one last time, slow and deep.

And you did.

Every bit of him.

Even like this—naked, soaked, and holding you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Because right now… you were.

Eventually, the water ran lukewarm, and Jongho leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder—no longer hungry, no longer teasing. Just there. Soft. Present.

You both stayed tangled for a few more moments, your bodies still catching up with your heartbeats, before he slowly let you down, his hands steadying you as your feet touched the shower floor. Your legs felt like they might give out, but he didn’t go far—he stood with you, close, letting you lean on him while you steadied yourself.

He reached past you for a towel, wrapping it gently around your body before grabbing one for himself. He ruffled his hair a little, the ends sticking up in every direction, and you couldn’t help but smile at how boyish he looked now—damp, flushed, and half-drunk on affection.

“You, okay?” he asked, voice quieter now, a different kind of tender.

You nodded, glancing up at him as you clutched the towel closer. “More than okay.”

He kissed your forehead in response, then tugged you by the hand toward the bedroom. The lights were low, the covers still warm from earlier, and the only sound was the faint hum of the city beyond your window.

You both dropped the towels without much ceremony, pulling on just enough to be comfortable—his soft cotton tee and your favorite sleep shorts—and slid beneath the blankets. You curled into his side naturally, your head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close like he didn’t want the night to end.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your damp hair.

“This?” you asked sleepily.

“This… feeling. Coming down from everything and still getting to hold you like this after.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you snuggled closer, your hand resting over his heart. “It’s the best part.”

He smiled against your skin. “Yeah. It is.”

You laid there for a while, letting the silence stretch—his fingers tracing idle circles on your arm, your breathing syncing again. There was no rush now. No tension. Just comfort. The kind that comes after being known, touched, seen.

“You think we’ll always be like this?” you asked quietly, not really expecting an answer—just voicing the thought as sleep tugged at the edges of your mind.

Jongho didn’t hesitate. “If I have anything to say about it? Yeah. We will.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to.

You just smiled softly against his chest, let your fingers find his, and drifted off in the safety of his arms—wrapped in the kind of warmth no shower, no heat, no flame could ever match.

Just him.

Just you.

Just this.

---

Morning came gently.

The soft gray light of dawn crept in through the blinds, casting quiet shadows across the room. The world outside was beginning to stir—but inside, everything was still. Still, and warm.

You blinked your eyes open slowly; the weight of sleep still heavy on your body. Jongho’s arm was slung lazily over your waist, his chest pressed to your back, breath steady and slow against the curve of your neck. His body molded perfectly to yours, like even in sleep, he couldn’t stand to be far away.

You didn’t move—not at first. Just let yourself lie there in the silence, your fingers lightly brushing over his forearm. You could feel the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. The warmth of him. The way his fingertips unconsciously flexed against your side, like even now, he was holding on.

He stirred a little, burying his face into your shoulder with a sleepy groan. “Morning already?”

“Unfortunately,” you whispered, voice still husky with sleep.

He made a low noise in protest and pulled you in tighter. “Let’s call in sick. Just stay here. Just us.”

You smiled; eyes still closed. “You say that every time we wake up like this.”

“And I mean it every time,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin. “You feel too good to leave.”

You turned slightly in his arms to face him, your hands finding the soft space between his chest and shoulder. His eyes were half-lidded, hair a wild mess, and he looked at you like you were still a dream.

“You’re staring,” you teased, tracing a line over his collarbone.

“Can you blame me?”

You leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth—soft, lingering, and sweet. “I’ll make coffee if you make breakfast.”

He groaned again, dramatically this time. “Why do I feel like I’m getting the harder deal?”

“Because I know you’ll do it anyway,” you grinned, slipping out of bed with a stretch. You padded to the kitchen in his oversized shirt, still smelling faintly of him, and started the coffee while Jongho shuffled in a minute later, yawning like he hadn’t just spent the night wrecking you against a shower door.

While he cracked eggs into a pan and started humming to some quiet tune in his head, you leaned against the counter, watching him with a quiet fondness that filled your chest.

It wasn’t the sex.

It wasn’t even just the comfort.

It was this.

The quiet mornings. The easy laughter. The casual intimacy of making breakfast side by side in the kind of silence that feels like home.

And when he turned to you with two plates, hair still sticking up and eyes still sleepy, you thought:

Yeah. I could do forever like this.

“Call in,” he said suddenly, eyes soft but insistent.

You blinked. “What?”

“Call in sick,” he repeated. “Let’s go somewhere. Just us.”

You stared at him for a long moment. The idea was so unlike your usual routines—both of you always a little too responsible, a little too tethered to your obligations. But today? You saw something in his eyes you hadn’t seen in weeks.

Peace.

Hope.

Something that said: We’re okay now. Let’s make it count.

So you nodded. “Only if you do it too.”

He smirked. “Already texted my boss. Told him I need time to breathe.”

Within the hour, bags were packed with too many snacks, not enough clothing options, and one playlist that made you both laugh and groan at the nostalgia. Jongho drove with one hand on the wheel and the other occasionally brushing your thigh. The windows were down. Music pouring through. Wind in your hair. And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you both felt like you could breathe.

The road led you to a small lakeside town—quiet, unbothered by tourists this time of year. You found a rustic little Airbnb cabin with a wraparound porch and string lights that twinkled like magic when the sun dipped low.

You tossed your bags onto the bed, already barefoot and wandering through the place like you were meant to be there.

“This is perfect,” you said, peeking out at the still lake just beyond the trees.

Jongho wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.

That afternoon passed in quiet joy—grocery shopping in a sleepy town, cooking side by side in the tiny kitchen, sipping wine on the porch while the sun slipped behind the trees. Jongho pulled a blanket over both of you, pulling you into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I like us like this,” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the soft chirp of crickets outside the open window.

“Me too,” Jongho replied, his fingers gently trailing along the inside of your wrist as if memorizing you again. “No noise. No pressure. Just you.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple—a touch that said I’m here, not just in body, but fully, heart and soul.

Later that night, wrapped in the soft amber glow of the bedside lamp and the scent of pinewood lingering in the air, you lay together beneath a tangle of sheets. The world beyond the cabin walls faded into quiet. There were no deadlines, no unspoken frustrations or missed moments. Just the hush between breaths, the heat of shared skin, the feeling of being chosen again.

Jongho's hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, not with hunger, but reverence. You watched him as he hovered above you, his gaze sweeping across your face like he didn’t want to miss a single expression. No teasing, no smirking—just quiet devotion in his eyes.

His lips met yours—slow, warm, unhurried.

It wasn't rushed.

It wasn't about release.

It was about remembering.

How your breath hitched when his fingers ghosted over your ribs. How his body curved instinctively into yours. How he whispered your name like it held meaning deeper than language.

Your fingers curled against his back as he moved within you—slow, reverent, like every motion was a question he already knew the answer to. His breath stuttered against your lips with every thrust, his body syncing with yours in a rhythm that felt more like a heartbeat than anything else.

There was nothing rushed here.

Only the hush of shared breath.

Only the weight of his body pressed to yours—not heavy, but grounding.

Only the way your eyes stayed locked, even as your bodies moved, like the most important thing was not the pleasure, but the closeness. The knowing.

Jongho kissed you again, deeper this time, and you felt it in every part of you—the apology, the devotion, the wordless I’m still yours whispered between mouths and moans. His hands framed your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, anchoring you in the moment like he didn’t want either of you to forget this—this return, this softness, this love.

“I’ve missed this,” he breathed into your skin. “Not just this—you. The way you feel. The way you look at me.”

You didn’t need to say anything. The way your body arched into his, the way your hands gripped his arms, said it all. You missed this too. Missed him. Missed what it felt like to be touched like this—like you were still magic in someone’s hands.

“Jongho...” You let out a shaky moan letting your body melt underneath him. He looked deeply into your eyes not wanting to let you go.

You felt your release build slowly, not a climb but a gentle swell—waves gathering just beneath your skin. You whispered his name and he heard it like a prayer, like a promise, his pace shifting just slightly, more focused now, more sure.

Your body trembled beneath him as pleasure bloomed, slow and consuming, your head tilting back, lips parted in a quiet gasp. He followed right after, stuttering his breath against your throat, his whole body tensing, pressing deeper one final time before unraveling with you.

And then everything stilled.

You were left tangled together, chest to chest, legs still wrapped around him. His breath was warm against your collarbone, his hands smoothing over your sides like he needed to reassure himself you were still here.

“I love you,” he said again, voice raw and quiet.

You turned your head, pressing a soft kiss to his damp hair. “I never stopped loving you.”

You stayed there like that—hearts slowing, breath settling, wrapped in the kind of silence that only comes after two people strip themselves down to nothing but truth.

And as the night deepened outside the cabin walls, inside, something mended.

Something healed.

Not all at once—but enough.

Enough to begin again.

---

The soft rustle of sheets and the early chirp of birds outside the window stirred you from sleep.

Your body ached in that delicious, satisfied way—reminders of the night before blooming in every muscle. The cabin was quiet, wrapped in the kind of stillness that only existed in places far from the noise of the real world. And beside you, Jongho was still asleep—barely.

He lay on his stomach, one arm stretched across your waist like some kind of sleepy claim. His hair was a mess, his face pressed into the pillow, and a faint snore rumbled from him every few breaths.

You shifted slightly, stretching under the covers, and that small movement had him groaning low and half-consciously pulling you closer.

“You’re awake,” you whispered.

“No, I’m dead,” he mumbled into the pillow.

You grinned. “Wow. Even in the afterlife you’re clingy.”

That got you a lazy arm flopped entirely over your chest, pinning you down.

“You loved it last night,” he mumbled with a crooked smile, eyes still closed.

You laughed, flicking the back of his head. “You’re impossible.”

He cracked one eye open and peeked up at you. “Impossible, but irresistible.”

“Debatable.”

“Is it?” he asked, finally rolling over and stretching like a cat. “Because if I remember correctly… someone was moaning my name like I was their favorite dessert.”

Your face flushed immediately. “Okay, we don’t have to do a play-by-play.”

Jongho grinned, reaching out to poke your side. “I think we do. For posterity.”

You squeaked and tried to wriggle away, but he was already climbing on top of you, pinning your wrists with a ridiculous grin.

“You’re so annoying in the morning,” you said, trying to sound stern despite the way you were biting back laughter.

He leaned in close, nose brushing yours. “And yet… you let me sleep in your bed.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You bribed me with a fireplace, a lake, and your soft sleepy eyes.”

“My charm,” he whispered dramatically, “is undefeated.”

You finally broke, laughing loud and open as he flopped beside you again, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your neck. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him there, breathing him in.

Eventually, he murmured against your skin, “Let’s make pancakes. But the lazy way.”

“What’s the lazy way?”

“We make the batter, you do all the flipping, and I offer moral support while eating chocolate chips straight from the bag.”

You snorted. “Sounds like a scam.”

“Sounds like a partnership.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he pulled away with that sleepy, boyish grin and laced your fingers with his, you let him tug you out of bed.

Because mornings like this—where the teasing came easy, where the air felt light and love was woven into the smallest gestures—were proof that you weren’t just healing.

You were happy.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the best part of all.

---

The sun was already climbing high by late morning, spilling golden light through the trees and warming the weathered wood of the porch. After breakfast—and a mess of flour, chocolate chips, and a few pancake casualties—you and Jongho stood barefoot outside, sipping orange juice and squinting toward the lake.

The surface was calm, the light shimmering across it like glass.

“We should swim,” you said, leaning against the railing.

Jongho looked over at you, one brow raised. “Now?”

You smirked. “Scared?”

He scoffed, setting his glass down. “Please. I’m just trying to decide how dramatic I want my entrance to be.”

“Try not to slip and die.”

He gave you a fake look of betrayal. “Wow. No faith in me at all.”

You just grinned and walked back inside to grab your swimsuit. A few minutes later, you met him at the edge of the little dock, both of you barefoot, towels slung over your shoulders, the sun warming your skin.

Jongho looked at the water, then at you. “On three?”

You nodded. “One… two—”

But you jumped on two, cannonballing into the water with a splash that sent tiny waves lapping at the dock.

He laughed, shaking his head as you resurfaced. “Unbelievable. Cheater.”

“Should’ve seen it coming,” you said, brushing wet hair from your face.

He dove in after you, smooth and clean, his body cutting through the water like he belonged there. When he popped up beside you, he slicked his hair back, eyes glinting under the sun.

You splashed him.

His jaw dropped. “Oh, it’s like that?”

You laughed and turned to swim away, but he was already chasing you, catching your ankle and pulling you back with a yelp. You shrieked, laughing too hard to care as he tugged you close, his arms wrapping around your waist in the water.

“Say mercy,” he teased, breathless.

“Never,” you giggled, trying half-heartedly to wriggle free.

He leaned in until your noses almost touched, both of you panting, grinning, water dripping between you.

“I could hold you here all day,” he said softly, the playfulness in his voice fading into something warmer.

Your smile faltered—but in a good way. In that way your heart did when it realized, over and over, that you were loved like this. Chosen like this.

“Maybe I’ll let you,” you whispered.

He pulled you closer, your legs floating beside his in the water, your bodies barely moving as the lake lapped softly around you. And when he kissed you—sunlight on your skin, water clinging to your lashes—it was slow and sweet and full of that rare, quiet joy that only came when nothing else in the world was asking for your attention.

Just him.

Just you.

Just the stillness between waves.

You eventually drifted toward the dock, limbs relaxed and skin glistening under the sun. Jongho pulled himself up first, offering you a hand with a dramatic flourish.

“Milady,” he said, completely soaked and grinning.

You rolled your eyes but took it anyway, letting him help you up, water dripping from both of you as you stepped onto the dock, toes curling against the sun-warmed wood. You flopped onto one of the towels, your body sighing with relief at the warmth beneath you.

Jongho joined you, spreading out beside you with a groan. “This might be my new favorite kind of tired.”

“Better than work stress?”

He laughed softly, eyes closing as he stretched his arms above his head. “By a thousand percent.”

You turned on your side to face him, propping your head on your hand. The sun cast golden shadows across his face, and little droplets clung to his lashes and jaw. He looked younger like this. Softer. Happier.

You reached over, gently brushing a few strands of damp hair away from his forehead.

He peeked one eye open. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just… soaking you in.”

“Should I flex for you?”

You snorted. “Ruin the moment and I’m pushing you back in.”

He laughed but didn’t move, just reached out and found your hand, fingers intertwining with yours. The breeze swept over you both, cool against your drying skin. The birds nearby chirped lazily, and somewhere across the lake, a dragonfly skimmed the surface.

You both lay there, drying in the sun, fingers linked, the silence comfortable and close.

“I wish we could freeze this,” you murmured after a while. “This exact feeling.”

Jongho squeezed your hand gently. “We kind of are.”

You turned your head.

“Moments like this,” he said, “they stay. Even when the world speeds back up. We just have to remember how to slow down and come back to them.”

You didn’t say anything right away—just let his words settle somewhere deep. Then you scooted closer, resting your head against his chest. He shifted to wrap an arm around you, holding you steady as your breathing matched again.

No rush.

No plans.

Just a lazy dock, drying skin, and the kind of quiet that only ever belonged to people who truly saw each other.

And for a while, that was everything you needed.

---

The sun dipped low behind the trees, casting the lake in hues of soft gold and amber. After a light dinner—nothing fancy, just grilled veggies, some wine, and more laughter than necessary—you and Jongho made your way back to the fire pit beside the cabin.

He carried a blanket under one arm and a half-full bottle of wine in the other. You followed barefoot, your hair still slightly damp from the lake, sweater slipping off one shoulder as the night air turned cool.

He set everything down, crouched to arrange the kindling, and with a few practiced movements, coaxed a flame to life. It started as a flicker, then grew into a warm, steady fire—crackling softly, casting dancing shadows across the wooden porch and your legs curled beneath you.

Jongho settled beside you on the outdoor bench, tucking the blanket around both your shoulders. The warmth of the fire and his body beside you made everything else disappear. No notifications. No obligations. Just the quiet pop of firewood and the sound of the wind in the trees.

He handed you your glass, his pinky brushing yours. “To choosing this.”

You clinked your glass to his. “To us, coming back to us.”

The wine was sweet on your tongue, but it was the moment that really tasted good—ripe with comfort, full of something steady and deep.

You leaned into his side, head resting against his shoulder. He rested his cheek on your hair.

For a long time, you didn’t speak.

Not because there was nothing to say—but because everything that needed to be said was already there. In the way his fingers absentmindedly traced slow, lazy lines on your thigh. In the way your body curved toward him naturally, like it belonged there. In the way your breaths synced with the rhythm of the flames.

After a while, Jongho spoke, voice low and thoughtful. “You know… I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous,” you teased, your voice a sleepy murmur.

He chuckled, nudging you with his shoulder. “I’m serious. About… us. About how easy it is to drift. And how lucky we are that we didn’t.”

You sat up slightly, turning to face him.

“You were never far,” you said gently. “We just… stopped reaching for a while.”

His gaze lingered on you, firelight flickering in his eyes. “But we’re reaching now.”

You nodded. “And holding on.”

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t ever want to stop.”

“Then don’t.”

You felt his head rest against your shoulder, a soft exhale brushing your collarbone as he settled into the chair in front of the fire. The flames cast a gentle glow across his features—highlighting the curve of his jaw, the tired peace in his eyes, the faintest trace of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Without a word, you shifted.

He opened his eyes as you moved to straddle his lap, your legs settling on either side of him, knees tucked into the cushions. His hands instinctively came to your waist, warm and steady, thumbs brushing over your sides like they belonged there.

You hovered above him just slightly, your hands resting on his shoulders as you looked down at him. He tilted his head up, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk—the one that always said I’ve got you.

“Is this your idea of fireside cuddling?” he teased, voice low and thick with affection.

“It’s a very effective version,” you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy lines across the back of his neck.

He hummed, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. “You keep looking at me like that, and I’m gonna forget all about how peaceful this evening was supposed to be.”

You smiled, leaning in until your noses almost touched, your forehead resting lightly against his.

“Maybe that’s the point,” you whispered.

His smirk faltered, softening into something deeper—something that lived in his chest, not just his mouth.

“You’re dangerous when you’re like this,” he murmured, sliding one hand up your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades.

You tilted your head, brushing your lips over his jaw. “When I’m like what?”

“When you’re calm… and close… and looking at me like I’m something you already decided to keep.”

Your lips curved. “That’s because I did.”

Jongho leaned in then, kissing you slow and full—like he had all the time in the world. No rush, no pressure, just the heat between your bodies and the fire crackling beside you.

You deepened the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as you shifted just enough to feel him respond beneath you—his body stirring, his breath hitching. Still, he didn’t push. Didn’t rush. He just held you tighter, kissing you like you were the only thing that had ever steadied him.

You pulled back slightly, both of you breathless.

“Still want to keep the night peaceful?” you asked, voice teasing, a little husky.

Jongho looked up at you, eyes dark with affection and something quieter. “Only if I get to keep you like this.”

Your smile softened as your fingers traced his cheek. “Then we’re already exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

And you stayed there—wrapped in firelight, in each other, in the space where love didn’t have to prove itself anymore.

It just was.

Jongho’s fingers flexed gently on your waist, grounding you in place as he looked up at you—your faces lit softly by the glow of the fire. The silence between you was charged now, humming with want and affection, neither one outweighing the other.

You leaned in again, slower this time, your lips brushing his like a question he’d already answered.

The kiss deepened gradually, your mouths molding to each other in a rhythm that was patient and familiar. Jongho’s hands slid beneath the hem of your sweater, fingers skimming up your back, sending a slow shiver rippling down your spine. You arched slightly into his touch, your hands threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan quietly against your mouth.

“You feel so good like this,” he murmured, voice rough, reverent.

Your hips rolled instinctively against him, slow and steady, and you felt the tension build between your bodies—warm, alive, and pulling you closer with every movement.

“You’re sure?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours—checking in, always.

You nodded, forehead resting against his. “Completely.”

That was all he needed.

Jongho stood, lifting you with him in one smooth motion, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you inside the cabin with ease, kissing you between steps, like he couldn’t bear the distance even for a second.

Inside, the room was dim except for the golden flicker of the fire behind you, casting shadows against the wooden walls. He laid you down on the rug in front of the hearth, the warmth of the flames kissing your skin as he hovered above you.

His hands were unhurried as he helped you out of your sweater, his lips following the path of every inch he uncovered—shoulder, collarbone, the curve of your chest. His touch was reverent, like he was worshipping you with each kiss, each brush of his fingers.

You tugged his shirt off in return, your hands roaming the expanse of his back, your lips trailing along the line of his jaw and down his throat. The heat between you built slowly, like an ember being coaxed into flame.

When he slid into you, it was with a gasp shared between your mouths, your bodies fitting together with practiced ease. He moved slow, deep, his hands cupping your face, your waist—holding you like you were something precious, not fragile.

You wrapped yourself around him, matching his rhythm, your moans soft and breathless, spoken into the hollow of his throat. The fire cracked beside you, painting golden light over your tangled limbs, your flushed skin, the way your eyes locked on his.

It was slow and deep and present—a rediscovery, a claiming, a soft surrender to everything you’d both been holding back for too long.

Your release came in quiet waves, your body trembling beneath his as you whispered his name like something sacred. He followed moments later, his forehead pressed to yours, voice breaking around a low groan as he poured himself into you, both of you shivering with the weight of it.

And then—stillness.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you close instantly, your legs still tangled, your heart racing under his palm as it rested on your chest.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

Just breathing. Just holding.

The fire crackled quietly beside you, its warmth soft against your bare skin, your body still tingling in the aftermath of everything—emotion, closeness, release.

Eventually, Jongho shifted, pressing his lips to your temple with the gentlest of kisses. “You feel like home.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed, your cheek brushing against his chest. “So do you.”

A few beats passed, and then you felt his arms tighten around you, like he didn’t want even a sliver of space between you.

“I’m glad you accepted this deal with me,” he murmured, voice low, full of affection.

You let out a soft, sleepy laugh. “You mean the ‘dinner for whenever-you-want-me’ contract?”

“That one.” He grinned, the edge of his teeth brushing your shoulder. “Still think I got the better end of it.”

“I don’t know,” you teased. “I’ve been eating well and getting all the extra attention.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Okay, maybe we’re both winning.”

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze, and what you saw there wasn’t mischief anymore—it was soft, sure, full of something weightier. Something that felt like forever, said in silence.

His hand found yours, fingers weaving between yours again like muscle memory.

“Do you ever think about what this looks like… long-term?” he asked, his voice almost shy.

You studied him for a second, the firelight dancing across his face, making him look golden and real and completely yours.

“I do,” you whispered. “More than I let myself admit.”

Jongho brushed his nose against yours, his voice a little steadier now. “I think about waking up next to you every morning. About building something together that feels like this… all the time.”

“Even when it’s hard?” you asked.

“Especially then,” he said. “Because I want to keep choosing you. Even on the days it’s not easy.”

You leaned in and kissed him—slow, deep, and full of everything you didn’t have to say out loud.

When you pulled back, your forehead stayed pressed to his.

“Then let’s keep choosing this,” you whispered. “Keep choosing us.”

And in the quiet flicker of firelight, tangled together on that worn cabin rug, the future didn’t feel like a question anymore.

It felt like a promise.

And in that quiet, exhausted, love-drenched stillness… nothing else mattered.

•

A/N: Sorry if there wasn't much depth in the smut :'3 I am with family today and I was wanting to finish writing this LMFAO...