#jeonghan are you ok?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diamonddaze01 · 2 months ago

Text

Full Throttle (ii)

pairing: ferrari driver!yoon jeonghan x journalist!reader chapter wc: 16.7K (dont look at me)genre: humor, fluff, angst, smut (?) au: f1 au (i am sorry i am a nerd abt this) rating: m (MINORS DNI)warnings: SLOW BURNNN. mentions of injuries, car crashes // unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), some nipple-play, vaguely (?) rough (?) sex, begging

PREQUELS: would highly recommend reading On the Record and Off the Record to gain some context into the relationship! This fic starts directly after the end of Off the Record

a/n: ok pt 2 here we gooooo! to kae @ylangelegy , who hasn't read the ending of this because they wanted to be surprised. i love you, im sorry, i love you // to alta @haologram , who hyped me up so much and made me feel so much better about my writing // thank you to lola @monamipencil and haneul @chanranghaeys for beta-reading! // and finally, an ENORMOUS thank you to jupiter @cheolism for the banner!

read part 1 here.

FORMULA 1 PIRELLI GRAN PREMIO D’ITALIA 2024 Track: Autodromo Nazionale Monza

Monza, the Temple of Speed. The track that had seen countless legends, where every tire mark told a story of glory and heartache. The crowd—the tifosi—roared like a living entity, their chants filling the air, demanding greatness from Ferrari’s finest. It wasn’t just a race here, it was a pilgrimage. The heat of Italy in late summer mixed with the electric atmosphere of a home Grand Prix, and Jeonghan could feel it all—the energy, the expectation, the weight of a thousand eyes on him.

The Autodromo Nazionale Monza was a track built on speed, but more than that, it was a track built on history. The sweeping curves, the long straights, the iconic Parabolica that would make or break a driver—it was a place where only the brave thrived, and only the strongest survived. Jeonghan knew the stakes: it wasn’t enough to be fast, not when you were wearing Ferrari red. He had to win, not just for himself, but for the tifosi, who saw him as their golden boy. He had to deliver.

As the weekend progressed, he couldn’t escape the growing weight on his shoulders. His performance was scrutinized with every passing second. In the pits, the team’s eyes were on him, hoping for that perfect lap. The techs, the engineers, the strategists—all working in harmony, hoping that Jeonghan would be the one to pull them across the finish line, but in the back of his mind, Jeonghan kept hearing the unspoken truth: nothing less than pole would suffice. Anything less was a failure.

He felt his pulse quicken as the qualifying session wore on, his concentration laser-sharp, every move calculated. But the tire strategy wasn’t perfect, and as the final moments ticked down, the truth settled over him like a cloud of doom. He was not going to make Q3. Neither was Soonyoung. The agony of it slammed into him like a punch to the gut.

The Ferrari garage was quiet, save for the hum of the engines being powered down. Soonyoung clapped him on the shoulder, a small gesture, but Jeonghan could see the frustration in his eyes, the mirror of his own defeat. The disappointment felt like a heavy weight on Jeonghan’s chest, suffocating, and he couldn’t shake it off. He couldn’t even look at the team, let alone the tifosi waiting outside.

The mood around the paddock was tense as Jeonghan left the garage, still in his race suit. The world felt unreal, as though it were in slow motion. He couldn’t escape it. The tifosi would be waiting to cheer their heroes, but today, he hadn’t been the hero they wanted. He was just another failure in a sea of victories that had come before him. He needed to escape it, to clear his mind.

It was then, as he walked toward his motorhome, that he felt it—a small, electric connection. Your hand brushed against his.

He froze.

Your presence was like a balm, soothing the sharp sting of defeat, but it also distracted him. The familiar, intoxicating scent of your shampoo, something floral and faintly sweet, hit him like a memory, and his heart skipped a beat. That scent, mixed with the lingering tension of the day, flooded his senses. He couldn’t look at you, couldn’t form words. All he could think about was that fleeting moment—so close—and the ridiculous notion that he had never noticed how desperately he wanted to be closer to you.

You didn’t stop walking either, your movements fluid, confident. But he couldn’t help the way his eyes followed you, the way the tension built with every step.

Without a word, you both continued on, the space between you shrinking until you finally spoke. Your voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, something that told him you understood more than he let on.

“Tough luck out there,” you said, a hint of sympathy in your tone.

The words were simple, but they hit harder than he expected. His chest tightened as he swallowed. “It’s... whatever,” he muttered, trying to brush it off. He didn’t have the energy to care.

You glanced at his fist, clenched so tightly it was almost painful to watch. “Doesn’t seem like ‘whatever’ to me,” you countered, raising an eyebrow, your words cutting through the fog in his mind.

He let out a small, mirthless chuckle. “I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice more convincing than he felt. But even as he said it, he knew. He wouldn’t be fine—not until he had redeemed himself, not until he could prove to the world that he was still Ferrari’s shining star. He had to be.

But for now, there was a fleeting connection between the two of you, and it was the only thing that made his heart skip, even if just for a moment.

The race was an uphill battle from the start, as expected. Jeonghan’s starting position was far from ideal, and the track ahead was a maze of cars, each one blocking his path, each one a reminder of the high stakes. The pressure weighed on him heavily, like an invisible force that squeezed the air from his lungs. It wasn’t just about the race, it was about redemption. The tifosi—his tifosi—filled his mind with a deafening chant, a roar of expectation, as if they were willing victory into existence. The weight of their adoration and their demand for perfection followed him, a constant reminder of the legacy he carried.

But Jeonghan had never been one to back down. The track felt like an extension of himself, the tires gripping, the engine vibrating beneath him, urging him to push. Even with traffic clogging his way, he found openings. He fought for every inch of track, his movements sharp, instinctive, like a surgeon making precise cuts. Overtaking felt almost effortless—his car slipping through gaps with the grace of a dancer. He was fluid, controlled, never losing sight of the goal.

As the laps unfolded, his nerves sharpened, but so did his focus. The aggressive strategy that had been laid out for him was beginning to pay off. He was making up ground, inching forward, climbing the ladder of positions one battle at a time. The thought of the tifosi cheering, of their voices blending into one thunderous symphony, drove him. They believed in him. He had to deliver. His mind cleared. He no longer heard the roaring crowds, the whirling thoughts of doubt. All that mattered was the track, the tires, and the roar of the engine beneath him. The conditions became his advantage—he thrived in this chaos.

Through the speed-trap corners, Jeonghan carved his way through the field. The world outside the cockpit blurred into a haze, his focus narrowing into sharp precision. He saw every gap, every opportunity, and he seized them without hesitation. The rain had turned the race into a dance of risk and control, and Jeonghan was leading the waltz.

Crossing the finish line first, Jeonghan allowed himself a single moment of release. The victory wasn’t just for him—it was for Ferrari, for the tifosi, for everything that had been building in his chest since the first day he’d strapped into the car. He had done it. He had delivered.

The roar of the crowd felt like an affirmation of his own heart, beating in time with the cheers of thousands. In that moment, the weight lifted off him, replaced by an overwhelming surge of satisfaction and relief. He had proven himself once again, and it was more sweet than any victory lap could ever capture. The tifosi were wild, their cheers ringing through the air, a thunderous confirmation of what Jeonghan had already known in his heart: this was his race. This was his victory.

After the podium celebrations, the champagne-soaked cheers, and the endless barrage of media questions, Jeonghan finally managed to steal a moment of solitude. His body was spent, muscles aching, his throat raw from the adrenaline-fueled roar that had escaped him as he crossed the finish line. And yet, his mind wasn’t on the race anymore. Not on the points, not on the tifosi.

It was on you.

The fleeting brush of your hand earlier lingered like a phantom touch, a warmth that refused to fade even as the hours passed. The memory of your scent—the subtle floral notes of your shampoo—clung to him, more grounding than the overwhelming chaos of the Monza circuit.

He walked toward his motorhome, each step feeling heavier now that the adrenaline had begun to wane. The din of the paddock was fading, replaced by the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat in his ears. The glow of the overhead lights cast long shadows, and as he turned the corner, there you were. Waiting for him. Leaning casually against the side of his motorhome, your arms crossed and a knowing smirk dancing on your lips. His footsteps slowed as his eyes locked onto yours, the soft gleam of your smile both a challenge and an invitation.

“You’re late,” you teased, tilting your head in mock disapproval.

Jeonghan huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he approached. “Didn’t realize I was on a schedule.”

“You’re always on a schedule,” you shot back, your tone light but your gaze sharp. “Besides, I thought you’d be faster off track too.”

His smirk deepened as he stopped in front of you, close enough that the scent of champagne and adrenaline clung to him. “Big words for someone who’s hanging around my motorhome.”

“Big win for someone who barely made it out of Q2,” you quipped, the corner of your mouth twitching upward.

Jeonghan’s chuckle was low, almost indulgent. “Touché.”

There was a moment of silence, the din of the paddock fading into a distant hum. His eyes traced your face, noting the way your lashes cast faint shadows on your cheekbones, the way you seemed perfectly at ease under his scrutiny. That unnerved him more than he cared to admit. You’d always been too good at staying cool, keeping him on edge.

“So,” he finally said, leaning casually against the doorframe, “where’s your article? Shouldn’t it be out by now?”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Oh, you think I’m done? I’m holding out for an exclusive.”

Jeonghan’s grin widened, his ego soaking up your words. “An exclusive? From the tifosi’s god?”

Your laugh was soft, teasing, and it sent a warmth through his chest that rivaled the rush of the race. “Your words, not mine.”

“You want a headline that bad?” His voice dropped, his tone dipping into something darker, something that made the air between you shift.

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice steady despite the way he was looking at you now—like he was ready to devour you whole. “But you’d have to give me something worth writing about.”

It was playful, the banter you always shared, but there was something crackling beneath the surface tonight, an electricity neither of you could ignore. Jeonghan stepped closer, his presence swallowing the space between you. You shifted back instinctively, your spine meeting the cool surface of the motorhome door.

“You always have something to say, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low, intimate.

“Someone has to keep you grounded,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly as his hand braced against the door beside your head, caging you in. His other hand hovered near your hip, close enough to make you hyper-aware of the heat radiating off him.

“Grounded?” he repeated, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smile. “You’re doing a great job of that.”

Your heart was pounding now, the proximity, the tension—it was overwhelming. “Jeonghan,” you started, your voice quieter, more measured, “this… this isn’t professional.”

“Fuck being professional,” he said, the words slipping out like a confession. Before you could respond, his fingers tilted your jaw, firm but not rough, guiding you to look up at him.

And then his lips were on yours, capturing them in a kiss that was as fierce as it was unrelenting. It wasn’t sweet or tentative—it was raw, all the tension and frustration that had built up between you spilling over in a single, consuming moment. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, anchoring you to him as if he was afraid you might pull away.

But you didn’t. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands finding the front of his race suit, clutching the material as if to steady yourself. The world around you blurred into nothing; there was only the warmth of his mouth, the taste of him, the way he kissed like he was claiming something he’d wanted for far too long.

Jeonghan’s breath hitched as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours for something—confirmation, permission, anything. Whatever he found made him grin, wicked and hungry. Without a word, he reached for the door handle, pushing it open with a sharp motion. The door swung wide, and then his hands were on you again, pulling you inside.

The door clicked shut behind you, plunging you both into the dim interior of the motorhome. Jeonghan's hands were everywhere at once, tracing the curve of your waist, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, as if he couldn't bear to be separated from you for even a moment.

You stumbled backward, your legs hitting the edge of the small couch. Jeonghan followed, never breaking contact, until you were lying beneath him, the leather cool against your heated skin. His weight pressed you down, a delicious pressure that made your head spin.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," he breathed against your neck, his words punctuated by hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to your collarbone.

You arched into him, your hands fumbling with the zipper of his race suit. Your fingers trembled slightly as you tugged it down and yanked off his fireproofs, revealing more of his sweat-slicked skin. Jeonghan groaned against your throat as your hands slipped inside, exploring the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen.

"How long?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths, curiosity mingling with desire.

Jeonghan lifted his head, his eyes dark and intense as they locked onto yours. "Since the first time you interviewed me," he admitted, his voice low and husky. "The way you challenged me, saw right through my bullshit... I knew I was in trouble."

The confession sent a thrill through you, and you pulled him down for another searing kiss. Your tongues danced as his hands roamed your body, pushing up your shirt to caress the soft skin beneath. You gasped into his mouth as his thumb brushed the underside of your breast.

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently as you deepened the kiss. Jeonghan groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. His hand slid lower, tracing the curve of your hip before gripping your thigh, hitching it up around his waist.

“So what you’re saying,” you whispered, grinding your clothed cunt against him. “Is that you’ve been obsessed with me as long as I have with you.”

He drops his head and groans, hot and heavy, against your throat. “You’re telling me we could have been doing this for three years?”

You pull him back to your lips by his hair, relishing the way he hisses at your touch. “If only you’d put your money where your mouth is, pretty boy.”

At that, he props himself up above you, grinning like the cat that got the canary. “I knew you called me pretty in Japan!”

You desperately claw at his shoulders in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. After three years of cat and mouse, you do believe you’re entitled to it. “Jeonghan, I swear to everything that is holy-”

“Say it.” His necklace hangs in front of you, glinting in the dim light of the motorhome. You have half a mind to crane your neck and take it with your teeth. But instead, you choose to stare up at him in mock confusion, fingers dancing at the nape of his neck.

“Say what?”

His answering laugh mocks you a little, and he leans down to gently bite your earlobe. When he speaks, it’s low and deep. “Say I’m pretty. I know you think it when you’re drunk.”

You shiver at the sensation of his teeth grazing your ear, heat pooling in your core. His words make you flush, remembering all the times you'd drunkenly gushed about him to your friends. You'd always been careful to keep things professional in person, but apparently some of your true feelings had slipped out.

"And how would you know what I think when I'm drunk?" you challenge, trying to regain some control.

Jeonghan chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "You're not the only one with sources in the paddock, sweetheart."

The pet name sends another thrill through you. You decide to give him what he wants, if only to move things along. "Fine," you breathe, trailing your fingers down his chest. "You're pretty, Jeonghan. Gorgeous, actually. Happy now?"

His grin is triumphant as he captures your lips again, the kiss deep and consuming. "Ecstatic, darling," he murmurs against your mouth.

Your hands roam his body, tracing the lean muscles of his back, feeling them flex under your touch. Jeonghan's fingers dance along your sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He breaks the kiss to nip at your jaw, then your neck, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

"You know," he says between kisses, his voice low and husky, "I've imagined this so many times. On the couch in the media room, in the garage, during those long interviews..."

You gasp as he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. "Is that why you always fidget so much during our talks?"

He chuckles against your skin. "Guilty as charged."

Your hands find the waistband of his fireproofs, , but as one hand curls around your jaw, the other stops you.

“You first,” he breathes, sitting back on his knees to gently urge you out of your shirt.

You lift your arms, allowing him to peel your shirt off slowly, his eyes drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. The cool air of the motorhome raises goosebumps on your flesh, but Jeonghan's heated gaze makes you feel like you're burning up.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your bra. "Even better than I imagined."

You reach up to pull him back down to you, craving the warmth of his body against yours. As your lips meet again, his hands roam your sides, mapping out every curve and dip. You arch into his touch, desperate for more.

His hands brush over your clothed nipple, and you inhale sharply. The sound makes Jeonghan raise his head, a faint smirk dancing across his lips. “Sensitive, are we?” He coos, hands drawing shapes against the swell of your breasts until goosebumps erupt on your flesh.

Your breath hitches as his fingers tease you though the thin fabric of your bra. “Jeonghan,” you breathe, half-warning, half-plea.

His smirk widens as he lowers his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. "Yes, sweetheart?" He murmurs against your skin. His lips trail lower, ghosting over the lacework.

You arch your back, silently begging for more. Jeonghan obliges, his tongue darting out to trace the lace edge of your bra. Your hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you hold him close.

With deft fingers, he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. You lift slightly, allowing him to slide it off. His eyes darken as he takes you in. You moan wantonly, arching your back in an effort to touch you - somewhere, anywhere.

“Jeonghan, please-”

A singular finger traces the curve of your waist up to your collarbone. He hums as you squirm. “Look at you,” he murmurs. You shriek as he pinches your waist. “You act so big in the paddock, and here you are, begging for me to touch you.”

It enrages you a little, how easily he takes you apart. Hell, he’s barely even touched you and you’re already rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any amount of friction.

"Jeonghan, please," you gasp, not even sure what you're begging for. More? Less? Everything?

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch. "Tell me what you want," he says, his voice low and commanding.

You swallow hard, and the heat pooling between your legs feels hot enough to burn. “Y-your-”

“My what, baby?” His words are punctuated by hot, open mouthed kisses against your collarbones. He pointedly ignores your nipples, a thought that makes you whine. “Speak up.”

“Your mouth, Jeonghan,” you finally get out, hissing when his teeth find purchase on the skin of your neck.

“Yeah? Where, baby?” His hands fit themselves against the curve of your waist. “Here?”

“N-no,” you hate it, the way Jeonghan turns you into a whimpering mess. You shiver as his hands trail up your body.

“Hm…how about…here?” His thumbs brush against the underside of your breast again, and you arch your back, desperate and aching for him.

“Higher,” you breathe, mesmerized by the way his fingers dance up your body, by the way his eyes never leave yours.

“Here, baby?” His fingers tweak an already-hard nipple, and you gasp.

“Yes, please-”

“Say I’m a good driver, sweetheart, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Your eyes snap open, narrowing at him in disbelief. Even now, with you half-naked and writhing beneath him, he can't help but tease. "You're kidding, right?"

Jeonghan's grin is wicked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Not at all. Come on, darling. Just a few little words."

You bite your lip, torn between your pride and your desperate need for his touch. His thumb circles your nipple lazily, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Finally, you cave. "Fine," you breathe. "You're a good driver, Jeonghan. The best, even. Now please—"

Before you can finish, his mouth is on your breast, hot and wet. You cry out, arching into him as his tongue swirls around your nipple. His hand kneads your other breast, fingers teasing your other nipple.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Jeonghan's tongue and teeth work in tandem, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. The sensations are overwhelming, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"God, Jeonghan," you breathe, your head falling back against the couch cushions.

He hums against your skin, the vibration sending another shiver through you. His free hand trails down your stomach, fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. You lift your hips instinctively, silently begging for more.

Jeonghan lifts his head, his eyes dark with desire as they meet yours. "Tell me you want this," he says, his voice husky and low. "I need to hear you say it."

You nod frantically, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes," you breathe, your voice filled with need. "I want this. I want you, Jeonghan."

His eyes darken further at your words, a low growl escaping his throat. In one swift motion, he unbuttons your pants and slides them down your legs, taking your underwear with them. You kick them off eagerly, now fully bare beneath him.

Jeonghan's gaze rakes over your body, hungry and appreciative. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his hands skimming up your thighs. "So fucking beautiful."

You reach for him, tugging at the fireproofs still clinging to his hips. "Your turn," you say, your voice breathy with anticipation.

He grins, standing to shuck off the rest of his clothes. Your eyes widen as he reveals himself fully, drinking in the sight of his toned body. Jeonghan's grin widened as he caught you staring. "Like what you see?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to form words as your eyes roam his body. The lean muscles of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his hipbones, the impressive length of his cock standing proud against his stomach - it was all even better than you'd imagined.

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?"

That snapped you out of your daze. "Shut up and get back here," you growl, reaching for him.

Jeonghan obliges, lowering himself back onto the couch and covering your body with his. You gasp at the feeling of skin on skin, the heat of his body against yours. His lips find yours in a searing kiss as his hands explore every curve and dip of your body. When his fingers finally brush against your core, you gasp into his mouth, your hips bucking involuntarily.

“So wet,” he murmurs against your lips. “All for me?”

"Yes," you breathe, your hips rolling against his hand. "All for you."

Jeonghan's fingers explore your folds, teasing and mapping out every sensitive spot. When he finally slides a finger inside you, you moan loudly, your back arching off the couch. He sets a slow, torturous pace, curling his finger just right to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"More," you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders. "Please, Jeonghan."

He obliges, adding a second finger and increasing his pace. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in tight, precise movements that have you writhing beneath him. You can feel the tension building in your core, a coiling heat that threatens to consume you. Your hands scramble for purchase against his shoulders – you’re too drunk on lust to recognize if you’re pushing him away because it’s too much or pulling him closer because it’s not nearly enough.

"That's it, baby," Jeonghan murmurs, his voice low and encouraging. "Let go for me.”

His words push you over the edge, and you come with a cry, your body arching off the couch as waves of pleasure wash over you. Jeonghan works you through it, his fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm until you're trembling and oversensitive.

As you come down from your high, Jeonghan peppers soft kisses along your jaw and neck. "Beautiful," he murmurs against your skin. "You're so beautiful when you let go."

You're still catching your breath when you feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh. Your hand snakes between your bodies, wrapping around his cock. Jeonghan hisses at the contact, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"Show me," you breathe, thumb brushing over the tip of his pre-cum slick cock. You relish the way he shudders against you. “Show me everything you imagined, pretty boy.”

He preens a little at your teasing words, arms shaking with the exertion of keeping himself above you. “Yeah?” he purrs, hips bucking to the tempo of your hand. “You wanna see, sweetheart?”

You barely have the time to nod before he’s sweeping his arms under your thighs and sitting back against the couch, setting you on top of him. Your wet heat is inches from his weeping cock, and you give him an experimental roll of your hips. The friction is delicious, and you bite your lips at the way his head rolls back.

You take advantage of his position and press hot kisses against his neck as he squirms below you.

“This is what you wanted, baby?” you whisper against his ear, biting gently. He shudders, one arm circling your waist and the other finding purchase in your hair. “You wanted me on top? Me in control?”

He laughs breathlessly at that, hips grinding against yours with such fervour that you almost succumb right then and there. “You might be on top, sweetheart,” he hisses as you position yourself above him, one hand circling his length. “But I’m the one in char-”

He cuts himself off with a strangled moan as you sink down until your hips are flush to his. “Hmmm?” You hum sweetly against his throat, exhaling at the sheer size of him inside you. “What was that?”

“Fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch as his hands trail down to rest on the curve of your ass. “Move, please, sweetheart.”

“Tell me how much you love my writing.” The words leave you in a rush, the sight of him panting for you almost too heady to ignore. You hadn’t planned on teasing him, but his earlier words had lit a fire in your core that would only be doused once you flipped the script on him.

His head is still on the back of the couch as he barks out a laugh. “You’re a fucking menace,” he murmurs, pinching your waist. “Now, move.”

“No.” It takes every bone in your body to stay absolutely still. You can feel him, thick and throbbing, and the thought of it makes you almost forgo this insanity to ride him into oblivion.

His eyes meet yours, and he raises his eyebrows in mock outrage. “Are you serious?” He punctuates his words by dragging a hand down your body, fingers finding your clit and pressing until you jerk away from him. It’s a futile attempt though, because his other hand is still fisted in your hair, and he uses it as leverage to hold you against him, powerless against his ministrations.

With a shaking hand, your press against his wrist until his fingers stop moving in circles around your clit. “C-come on,” you tease breathlessly, using your other hand to thread through his sweat-soaked hair and yanking until he bares his throat to you with a groan. “Play nice, pretty boy. Tell me how much you love my writing.”

He groans again as you lick a stripe up his throat, the hand in your hair loosening as his resolve weakens. “Y-you don’t play fair,” he moans, legs shaking with the exertion of keeping still, of playing your little game of cat and mouse.

“Neither do you,” you whisper, your words paired with a tweak to his nipple that has him gasping and arching his back.

“Fuck!” He cries out, curling forward until his chin rests against your ribs and he’s staring up at you. “Y-your writing is perfect.”

He’s rewarded with another gentle tug on his hair and a firm, “keep going.”

“S-so perfect and wonderful, I – fuck, baby please – read every word th-three times,” he’s almost whimpering now, looking up at you with so much desire that you decide it’s time to reward him for being so pliant, so good for you. “You-you’re the best writer in the whole paddock, fuck, yes, thank yo-”

You decide to put him out of his misery, preening at his praise, you start with an experimental grind against his hips, and watch with glee as he almost melts back against the couch. You decide to take advantage of the situation for a little while longer, rocking your hips faster as his lips find your nipple.

“Who’s in charge?” you coo, fingers gripping his hair a little tighter. He draws back to give you a quick smirk. They don’t call him the fastest on the grid for nothing – one second, you feel like you’re in complete control, and the next, he’s lifting you off of him with surprising ease. Your chest meets the couch before you can even form a single thought, and Jeonghan gathers up your wrists in one of his hands.

“You really thought,” he hisses as he re-enters your aching pussy. “You were in charge, sweetheart?”

The new angle allows him to sink even deeper inside you, drawing a low moan from your lips.

"You were saying?" he purrs, chest pressed against your back, his breath hot on your neck as he sets a punishing pace. Each thrust drives the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping and whimpering beneath him.

"You thought you could tease me like that and get away with it?" he groans, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. "Thought you could make me beg?"

You can only moan in response, overwhelmed by the sensation of him pounding into you relentlessly. The couch creaks beneath you dangerously.

"Answer me," Jeonghan demands, slowing his pace torturously.

"J-Jeonghan," you manage to stammer, your voice muffled against the cushions.

He leans over you, his chest pressed against your back as he whispers in your ear. "What was that, sweetheart? I couldn't quite hear you."

You turn your head, meeting his intense gaze over your shoulder. "Please," you whimper.

“Please what?” He demands.

"Please," you gasp, struggling to form coherent thoughts as Jeonghan's hips continue their torturously slow pace. "Please, I need more."

His low chuckle sends shivers down your spine. "More what, baby? Use your words. You’re so good with words, aren’t you?"

You whine in frustration, trying to push back against him, seeking the friction you desperately crave. But his grip on your hip is firm, holding you in place.

"Fuck me," you finally manage to choke out. "Please, Jeonghan, fuck me harder."

"There we go," he purrs, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Was that so hard?"

Before you can retort, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You cry out at the sudden fullness, your fingers clawing at the couch cushions.

Jeonghan sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you further into the couch cushions. The hand not holding your wrists snakes around to find your clit, rubbing tight circles that have you seeing stars.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jeonghan groans, his breath hot against your neck. "So tight, so perfect for me."

You moan at his words, feeling the familiar coil of heat building in your core. "J-Jeonghan," you whimper, "I'm close..."

"That's it, baby," he encourages, his fingers working faster against your clit. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

Every part of your body is on fire, from the way Jeonghan's hips press against yours to the way his fingers expertly stroke your clit.

You come with a cry, your body shaking as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your inner walls clench around him, drawing a deep groan from Jeonghan.

He doesn't slow his pace, fucking you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another. You're oversensitive, every nerve ending on fire, but the pleasure is too intense to resist.

"God, you're perfect," Jeonghan pants, his rhythm becoming erratic. "So fucking perfect."

You feel his thrusts becoming more desperate, his breathing ragged against your neck. "Come on, Jeonghan," you manage to gasp out.

"Come for me," you urge him, clenching around him deliberately.

With a guttural groan, Jeonghan's hips stutter and he comes, spilling inside you as his body shudders with release. The feeling of him pulsing within you sends you over the edge again, and you cry out, trembling beneath him.

For a long moment, the only sound in the motorhome is your combined heavy breathing. Jeonghan releases your wrists and gently pulls out, causing you both to wince at the sensitivity.

Jeonghan collapses onto the couch beside you, his body warm and solid as he pulls you into his arms. The weight of him, the feeling of his heartbeat drumming against your cheek, is grounding. You curl into his chest, letting the rise and fall of his breathing lull you into a rare moment of stillness. His fingers trace lazy patterns across your back, the movements unhurried, almost absentminded, as if he can’t bear to stop touching you just yet.

“Well,” he says finally, his voice rough and lower than usual, laced with satisfaction. “I think that was worth the wait.”

You huff a laugh, the sound barely audible over the soft thrum of life outside the motorhome. “Of course you do,” you mutter, your cheek pressed against the hard planes of his chest, which smells faintly of sweat, champagne, and something uniquely Jeonghan.

His fingers pause their tracing for a moment, as though considering his next move, before starting again, this time slower and more deliberate. “Admit it,” he murmurs, his tone teasing, though softer now, quieter, like the vulnerability from before hadn’t completely left. “You’ve been thinking about this as much as I have.”

You tilt your head up, catching the faint glow of the ceiling light reflected in his eyes. They’re darker now, warmer, but still full of that infuriating smugness. Your lips twitch in defiance as you fight the urge to smile. “What makes you so sure I was thinking about it at all?”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, a lock of hair falling across his forehead in a way that’s unfairly distracting. His grin is sharp and unrelenting. “You’re terrible at lying.”

“Am not,” you fire back, though your tone lacks any real conviction. The way his fingers continue their soft, languid exploration of your back doesn’t help.

“Okay,” he says, clearly enjoying himself as he leans his head back against the couch. “So when you cornered me after qualifying that one time in Japan two years ago, that wasn’t because you couldn’t stop staring at me in my race suit?”

You gape at him, your body jerking upright just enough to glare at him properly. “I cornered you because I wanted a quote, you egomaniac.” You punctuate the accusation with a half-hearted swat at his arm.

He catches your wrist easily, his grip firm but gentle, and intertwines his fingers with yours. The warmth of his hand against yours is distracting, and it takes all your willpower not to lose focus. “Oh, you got a quote, all right,” he counters, his laughter bubbling up like he’s savoring every second of your indignation. “Admit it—you’ve been counting the days.”

You roll your eyes, the movement dramatic, though the warmth blooming in your chest betrays you. “And if I was?”

Jeonghan’s grin softens at your words, the sharp edges smoothing out into something quieter, something vulnerable. He lifts a hand to your face, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. “Then I’d say it was worth the wait,” he says, his voice lower now, more intimate.

The air between you shifts, heavier now, the teasing replaced by something else entirely. His gaze locks on yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades—the low hum of the paddock outside, the faint creak of the motorhome settling. All that exists is him, his hand still resting near your face, and the weight of his words hanging between you.

Your throat feels tight, and you clear it quickly, trying to shake off the spell he’s cast over you. “Don’t let it go to your head,” you mutter, shifting slightly to put some distance between you.

“Too late,” he replies with a ghost of a smirk, leaning back lazily against the couch. His arm stretches along the back of the cushions, the casual sprawl of his posture somehow making him seem even more confident. Then, with an easy grace that feels entirely unfair, he leans forward and plucks something from the coffee table. “By the way, your article? It’s still late.”

You blink at him, incredulous, before groaning and burying your face in your hands. “Now you care about professionalism?”

Jeonghan shrugs, holding out his hand as if offering you an invisible microphone, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Exclusive with the winner of Monza? Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

You peek at him through your fingers, shaking your head with a laugh that’s half exasperation, half affection. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he counters, his voice softening again as he leans forward to press a kiss to your temple. His lips linger there, warm and reassuring, before he pulls back just enough to look at you again. “But I’ll let you pretend for a little while.”

Jeonghan’s arms tighten around you as the laughter fades into a comfortable quiet. The warmth of his hand on your back and the steady rhythm of his breathing are grounding, but your thoughts won’t stop spinning. You tilt your head up to look at him, searching his expression for something you can’t quite name.

“What?” he asks softly, his tone warm but teasing. His fingers brush over the curve of your shoulder, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“What… what are we now?” you ask, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. They hang in the air between you, vulnerable and raw.

Jeonghan’s gaze doesn’t waver. His thumb brushes your cheek with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten. “We’re whatever you want to be, sweetheart,” he says simply, his voice low and full of something too deep to name.

You feel your heart stutter, the weight of his words sinking into you. “Can we…” You hesitate, the vulnerability of the moment making your voice falter. “Can we take it slow?”

For a second, he just blinks at you, and then the corners of his mouth lift into that infuriatingly familiar smirk. “Take it slow? After you just made me beg?” He chuckles, the sound soft but undeniably teasing. “You’re full of surprises.”

Your face heats instantly, and you swat at his shoulder, your embarrassment overridden by his smugness. “Shut up.”

Jeonghan catches your wrist before you can retreat, his laughter fading as he shifts closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m kidding,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. The mischief in his eyes melts into something gentler, something that makes your breath catch. “I’ll wait as long as you want.”

You glance at him, your walls crumbling under the weight of his sincerity. “It’s just…” You trail off, trying to find the right words, the weight of reality settling in around you. “Our careers, the season… It’s a lot. I don’t want to mess this up, not with everything else happening.”

Jeonghan’s expression softens even further, the teasing flicker in his eyes replaced by understanding. “I get it,” he says quietly. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I’ve waited three years to feel this close to you. What’s forever if it means I get to do it right?”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, equal parts devastating and beautiful. You close your eyes for a moment, letting them sink in, before leaning forward to press your lips to his—soft, brief, but full of everything you can’t quite bring yourself to say.

When you pull back, Jeonghan’s smile is softer than you’ve ever seen it, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he gazes at you like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.

“No pressure, though,” he adds after a beat, his teasing tone returning as his grin widens. “Unless you’re writing a follow-up article about me being the world’s most patient man.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest as he laughs, the sound rich and warm. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” he counters, his hand sliding back to your hair, cradling you close.

And maybe you do. Maybe you always have.

FORMULA 1 QATAR AIRWAYS AZERBAIJAN GRAND PRIX 2024 Track: Baku City Circuit

The streets of Baku were as much a character in the race as any driver—a stunning clash of history and modernity, where medieval walls stood beside glimmering skyscrapers. The track was notorious for its tight corners and long straights, a playground of risk and reward. Jeonghan knew every inch of it like it was an old rival, one he had to best to keep his championship hopes alive.

Qualifying was tight—Jeonghan secured P2, just behind Mingyu. "He’s fast," Jeonghan muttered to you that evening, the weight of the competition clear in his voice. But there was no self-doubt, just the quiet calculation that always preceded his brilliance.

Race day was a spectacle. Jeonghan’s precision through the castle section was breathtaking, and when the opportunity came to pass Mingyu on the long straight during the final stint, he didn’t hesitate. The roar of the tifosi—echoing even in Azerbaijan—followed him as he crossed the line first. The team’s radio had erupted with cheers as Jeonghan crossed the finish line, and when you saw him after the podium ceremony, his champagne-damp hair and triumphant smile had made your heart skip a beat.

Later, after the media frenzy, Jeonghan pulls you aside. "Come on," he says with a conspiratorial grin, grabbing your hand. "You didn’t think I’d let you leave Baku without exploring, did you?"

The cobblestone streets of Baku feel like something out of a postcard. The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the historic Old City. Jeonghan walks beside you, his hand occasionally brushing yours as he gestures to the buildings with a sense of wonder that’s rare to see in him.

“How do you know all this?” you ask, genuinely curious as he points out the Maiden Tower and recounts its legends with surprising accuracy.

He grins, tilting his head in that maddeningly charming way. “What, you thought I only studied race strategies? I’ve got layers, sweetheart.” He insists on taking cheesy tourist photos, including one where he pretends to be a knight defending you at the city walls.

“I could be your knight in shining armor,” he teases, holding his imaginary sword aloft.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re already Ferrari’s golden boy,” you shoot back, snapping the photo anyway. “Isn’t that enough?”

He’s good at this—whisking you away from the chaos of the paddock and making you forget, even if just for a moment, that the world is watching him.

Now, as you wander the streets of Baku, he’s more relaxed, his usual playful demeanor slipping into something softer. You pause in front of a street vendor selling intricate souvenirs, and Jeonghan picks up a small, hand-carved wooden box.

“For your desk,” he says simply, handing it to you before you can protest.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but you take the gift anyway.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he teases, slinging an arm around your shoulders as the two of you continue down the street, the sound of distant music and laughter filling the warm night air.

That night, back at the hotel, Jeonghan skims your article on his phone while sprawled on the couch.

Jeonghan’s Baku Blitz: Closes the Gap to Mingyu with Stunning Victory

His smirk grows wider with every sentence. “Stunning victory, huh? You really know how to make me sound good.”

You roll your eyes, throwing a pillow at him. “It was stunning. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s too late for that,” he quips, pulling you into his lap. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the little shout-out to my late-braking move. Makes me wonder how closely you’re watching me.”

“Always,” you admit softly, the truth laced between your words. His grin softens, and he leans in to press a kiss to your temple.

FORMULA 1 SINGAPORE AIRLINES SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX 2024 Track: Marina Bay Street Circuit

The Marina Bay Circuit was infamous—its oppressive heat, humidity, and unforgiving corners made it a grueling test of endurance. It was Jeonghan’s least favorite track, something he’d muttered repeatedly during practice.

In qualifying, he delivered a masterclass, securing pole position under the glowing lights that lined the circuit. "See?" he said, leaning casually against his car afterward, sweat still dripping from his brow. "Guess the heat doesn’t bother me as much as I thought." Watching him grin through post-quali interviews, drenched in sweat but radiating confidence, had you practically floating back to your hotel room.

You’ve barely ventured outside the hotel after qualifying, and he texts you cryptically to “stay put.” Now, the air conditioning hums softly as you sit cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through headlines about his performance. You’re still reading when the door swings open, and Jeonghan strides in, carrying a tray.

“Room service,” he announces with a dramatic flourish, setting it down beside you.

Your eyes widen at the sight of chocolate-covered strawberries and a chilled bottle of champagne. “What’s the occasion?”

He shrugs, popping the cork with practiced ease. “Pole position deserves a celebration. Plus…” He smirks, holding up a strawberry. “I wanted to see you smile.”

You laugh, shaking your head as he moves closer, offering the berry. But when you reach for it, he pulls it back, dragging it over your lips instead, smearing chocolate at the corner of your mouth.

“You missed a spot,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss it away. The sweetness lingers on his lips, and before you know it, he’s pulled you into his lap, the rest of the world forgotten.

The race the next day is less triumphant. A perfectly timed pit stop keeps Jeonghan ahead of the pack for most of the race, but a late safety car allows another driver to close the gap, relegating him to P2. Still, with Mingyu out of the race, Jeonghan’s second-place finish is enough to reclaim the championship lead.

Jeonghan’s expression is unreadable when he reads your latest article:

Heat and Havoc in Singapore: Jeonghan Takes Second as Mingyu Crashes Out

“Well, at least you didn’t call me lucky,” he says finally, leaning back in his chair.

“You weren’t lucky. You earned that result,” you reply, watching his face carefully.

He hums, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Still. Next time, I’d rather win outright.”

FALL BREAK: SEPT 23-OCT 17

The crisp autumn air brushes against your face as you unlock your front door, arms full of groceries. It’s been a quiet few weeks since Singapore, the space between races stretching out like an eternity. You’ve tried to enjoy the pause, but it feels strange—unnatural, even—to be so far removed from the whirlwind of Jeonghan’s life.

Your thoughts drift to him as you drop the keys on the counter. Monaco. Ferrari’s headquarters in Maranello. Both places are worlds away from your little apartment.

You’re unloading a carton of eggs when there’s a knock at the door. Confused, you glance at the clock. It’s too late for deliveries and far too early for your neighbors to come by.

When you open the door, your heart stops.

Jeonghan stands there, his frame relaxed yet somehow magnetic. He’s dressed in a simple leather jacket and jeans, his dark hair catching the golden glow of the setting sun. A bouquet of your favorite flowers is clutched in one hand, their vibrant colors almost as captivating as the smile tugging at his lips.

“Jeonghan?” you ask, blinking in disbelief. “What are you—how—”

“Miss me?” he interrupts, stepping inside before you can fully process his presence. He hands you the flowers like it’s the most natural thing in the world, leaning in to press a quick kiss against your lips.

Your breath catches, and you can only stare at him, your mind struggling to keep up.

“You live in Monaco,” you point out, still staring at him. “And work in Italy.”

“I’m aware,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Of course, I missed you,” you murmur, your cheeks heating.

“Good.” He grins and takes your free hand, tugging you toward the door.

“Wait—where are we going?”

“Out,” he says simply.

You try to protest, gesturing to the groceries still sitting on the counter, but he’s already leading you down the hallway. His excitement is infectious, and you find yourself laughing despite your confusion.

An hour later, you’re standing at the entrance of a sprawling amusement park, the neon lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the evening sky.

“You’re serious?” you ask, staring at the carousel spinning lazily in the distance.

“Dead serious,” Jeonghan replies, his tone light as he hands over your ticket. “I figured you could use a night off.”

“I’m not the one traveling the world every other week,” you point out.

“Exactly,” he counters, his smile growing. “I needed to see you smile. And this seemed like a good place to start.”

The night unfolds in a blur of laughter and adrenaline. Jeonghan, surprisingly competitive, insists on winning you a giant stuffed bear at the ring toss, only to fail spectacularly—twice. You tease him mercilessly, your stomach aching from how hard you’re laughing.

When you step off the bumper cars, your cheeks are flushed, and your voice is hoarse from yelling. Jeonghan is no better, his hair sticking up in all directions after you gleefully rammed into him three times in a row.

“I think you’ve got a mean streak,” he says, pretending to nurse an invisible injury.

“Me?” you gasp, feigning innocence. “You literally tried to corner me!”

He doesn’t respond—at least, not verbally. Instead, he grabs your hand again, intertwining your fingers as he pulls you toward the Ferris wheel.

The view from the top is breathtaking. The park stretches out below you, a sea of lights and movement, while the city skyline glimmers in the distance.

Jeonghan is quiet beside you, his gaze fixed on your face instead of the view. You turn to him, suddenly aware of how close he’s sitting.

“What?” you ask softly.

“You’re happy,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I like seeing you like this.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s slow and deliberate, his hand moving to cradle your jaw as the world around you seems to fall away.

When he pulls back, you’re both smiling.

“This is dangerous,” you tease, though your voice is barely above a whisper. “You’re going to make me think nothing can go wrong.”

“Maybe nothing will,” he replies, his forehead resting gently against yours.

FORMULA 1 PIRELLI UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX 2024 Track: Circuit of the Americas

Austin brought a different kind of challenge. The Circuit of the Americas was iconic for its mix of sweeping corners, elevation changes, and a crowd that rivaled the tifosi in their enthusiasm. Jeonghan thrived here, securing P1 in qualifying and delivering a flawless race to claim another victory.

"Two wins in three races," he said that evening, pulling you into his side as you walked into a cowboy-themed bar downtown. "Guess I’m on a roll."

The bar was loud, filled with locals and fans alike, but Jeonghan stood out effortlessly. His cowboy hat tilted just right, a plaid shirt unbuttoned enough to make you wonder how he managed to look like that after hours in a car.

He kept his hand in your back pocket all night, his touch a silent claim when no one was looking. Every time he leaned in to murmur something in your ear, his lips brushed your skin just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy," he whispered at one point, his grin wicked as he tipped his hat at you.

That was all it took. You dragged him back to the hotel, barely making it through the door before he was on you, the hat ending up on the floor somewhere between the bed and the door.

The article you write the next day earns a rare whistle of approval from Jeonghan:

Cowboy Jeonghan Rides High in Austin, Extends Championship Lead

“I think this might be your best one yet,” he says, setting the phone down as he pulls you into his lap.

“Because I complimented you, or because I called you a cowboy?”

“Both,” he answers, his lips brushing against yours. “You know how much I love it when you’re right.”

And as his hand slides to the small of your back, you can’t help but think this season isn’t just his championship—it’s yours, too.

FORMULA 1 GRAN PREMIO DE LA CIUDAD DE MÉXICO 2024 Track: Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez

The atmosphere at the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez crackles with energy even hours after the race ends. The stands have mostly cleared, but the celebratory chaos of the paddock lingers. Jeonghan, fresh off another stellar performance, grins as reporters crowd around him, microphones extended like offerings. His hair is damp with sweat, his race suit tied around his waist as he leans casually against the Ferrari garage.

You watch from a distance, notebook in hand, trying not to let your gaze linger too long. He catches your eye anyway, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He’s been calling you his “lucky charm” ever since you started waking up in his bed on race mornings, and it’s a moniker he seems to enjoy reminding you of at every opportunity.

"Don't go too far," he says when the interviews wrap up, his voice low as he brushes past you on his way to the motorhome. The warmth of his fingertips grazing your wrist sends a jolt of electricity through you. "We’re celebrating tonight, and you’re not wriggling out of it this time."

You don’t see the ambush coming.

You’re reviewing your notes in the quiet corner of the paddock when your editor finds you. His expression is stern, almost irate, as he approaches. The celebration around you suddenly feels muffled, the weight of his presence pulling you back to reality.

"Finally," he snaps, crossing his arms. "I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days."

"Hey, sorry, it’s been hectic," you start, tucking your notebook under your arm.

He doesn’t let you finish. "Hectic? I gave you the Ferrari all-access months ago. They’re breathing down my neck about where the hell it is. Where’s the draft?"

The question lands like a punch to the gut. You open your mouth, fumbling for an answer, but he’s already barreling forward.

"And don’t think I haven’t noticed your tone shift," he continues, his voice lowering but losing none of its edge. "All this newfound niceness toward Jeonghan in your articles. What’s that about, huh? You sleeping with him or something?"

The accusation slices through you, leaving you momentarily stunned.

"That’s not—" you begin, but your voice falters.

"Spare me," he says, waving you off. "I don’t care what’s going on between you two, but I do care about the reputation of this outlet. You’ve built your career on being incisive, unbiased. So get it together, or I’ll find someone who can."

He doesn’t wait for a response, leaving you standing there as the din of the paddock swells around you. The celebration feels distant now, muffled by the blood rushing in your ears.

When Jeonghan finally finds you later that night, you’re a bundle of frayed nerves. The confrontation with your editor replays in your head like a broken record, each word cutting deeper into your carefully constructed sense of self. You sit hunched over your laptop in the corner of the media center, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows that match the knot in your chest.

“What, you sleeping with him or something?”

The accusation echoes, burrowing into your mind, where it tangles with your own insecurities. You’ve built your entire career on being sharp, unbiased, and unflinchingly honest. And yet, somewhere along the way, Jeonghan had slipped through your defenses. You can still hear the venom in your editor’s voice, feel the judgment in his eyes. The doubt wasn’t just his anymore—it was yours, too.

Was he right? Had you compromised everything for Jeonghan?

Your hands tremble slightly as you scroll through the notes you’ve been trying to organize for hours, but the words blur together, useless. Guilt presses against your ribs like a vice, mixing with a raw ache of something you’re too scared to name. You’re drowning in your own thoughts, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve let everyone down: your editor, your readers, and most of all, Jeonghan.

When he finally appears, his presence fills the doorway like a shadow cutting through the sterile light. He leans against the doorframe with a casualness you can’t match, arms crossed and head tilted slightly, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead. The sight of him, so familiar and yet suddenly so distant, sends a pang through your chest.

“Working late?” he asks, his voice low but carrying the faint edge of concern.

You look up, startled, and quickly shut your laptop as if that might erase everything weighing on you. “Just...catching up,” you say, forcing a smile that feels as flimsy as the excuse.

Jeonghan doesn’t move, his eyes scanning you with the precision of someone who knows you too well. He doesn’t buy the act—you can tell by the way his brows knit together, a subtle but telling sign of his worry.

“Catching up on what?” he asks, stepping closer, his tone light but probing.

You shrug, trying to sound casual. “Just notes. Articles. The usual.”

His gaze sharpens. “Right. And that’s why you look like you haven’t breathed in hours?”

You glance away, your fingers curling into fists on the tabletop. “I’m fine, Jeonghan. Go enjoy your win. You earned it.”

“And what, leave you like this?” He pulls out a chair and sits across from you, resting his arms on the table. “Not happening.”

The flood of emotions bubbling under your surface threatens to spill over. You want to tell him everything, but the words feel too tangled, too raw.

“I just need to get this done,” you say, your voice tight.

Jeonghan frowns, studying you more closely. "What’s going on? Did something happen?"

"Nothing," you say quickly, sidestepping him. "I just need some space tonight, okay?"

His hand brushes your arm, but you pull away, and the confusion in his eyes makes your stomach twist. "Fine," he says after a moment, his voice quieter now. "If that’s what you want."

Jeonghan wakes up to sunlight filtering through the blinds, but the bed feels empty. The cool sheets where you usually sleep tug at his attention before he fully registers the weight in his chest. Frowning, he rolls over and reaches for his phone on the nightstand, still groggy.

The screen lights up with a mess of notifications: congratulatory texts, memes from Soonyoung, and a dozen links to your latest article. He swipes through the chaos with a faint smile, already anticipating your sharp insights mingled with the familiar affection that’s always laced through your critiques.

Propping himself up against the headboard, Jeonghan opens the piece. At first, the smile lingers—he’s grown to appreciate the balance you strike between honest criticism and admiration. But the further he reads, the slower he scrolls, the words pressing into him like bruises.

His smile fades entirely by the time he reaches the paragraph describing his meltdown in Spain. The words cut too close, dragging him back to that moment in the Aston Martin garage: the oppressive silence, the rain hammering against the roof, and the suffocating realization of yet another missed opportunity.

"Jeonghan’s brilliance is undeniable, but brilliance without consistency leaves championships just out of reach."

The sentence burns itself into his mind. The carefully chosen words feel clinical, detached—so unlike you. He rereads it, hoping to find the warmth he’s come to expect, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Jeonghan tosses his phone onto the bed and stares at the ceiling, disbelief simmering into anger. This wasn’t just an article. This was personal.

The paddock is bustling, teams dismantling their motorhomes to get ready for next weekend. Jeonghan doesn’t bother changing out of his sweats before leaving his room, each step through the maze of hospitality suites and garages fueled by frustration.

When he finally reaches the media center, his chest tightens at the sight of you hunched over your laptop, headphones in, oblivious to his stormy approach. He doesn’t hesitate.

"You want to tell me what the hell that was?" His voice slices through the low hum of conversations around you.

Startled, you pull off your headphones, your eyes widening as you take him in. "Jeonghan—"

"No." He slaps his phone onto the desk in front of you, his movements sharp and deliberate. The article stares back at you, a glaring reminder of the wedge you’ve driven between you. "Don’t ‘Jeonghan’ me. What is this?"

"It’s my job," you say, standing to meet his intensity. The tremor in your voice betrays your composure. "You’ve always said you respected that about me."

"Respect?" His laugh is sharp, the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. "You think I respect this?" He gestures to the article like it’s a living thing, something venomous and cruel. "You went for my throat."

"I didn’t go for your throat," you argue, though your voice cracks at the edges. "I wrote the truth."

"The truth?" His hands ball into fists at his sides. "You think I don’t know when you’re pulling punches? You tore me apart for no reason."

"You’ve been avoiding media days. You had a meltdown in Spain," you fire back, your tone rising as your frustration bubbles to the surface. "Those are facts, Jeonghan."

"You didn’t have to highlight them," he counters, his voice quieter but no less cutting. "You know how much this season means to me."

"And do you think this was easy for me?" you ask, tears pricking at your eyes. "Do you think I wanted to write that?"

"Then why did you?" His voice softens, the anger slipping to reveal something raw and vulnerable. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Because I had to!" The words explode out of you, breaking the fragile tension. "Because people already think I’m biased. That I’ve gone soft. That I’m compromised because of you."

The weight of your confession hangs in the air, pressing down on both of you. Jeonghan’s face shifts, the fury giving way to something heavier—hurt, confusion, disappointment.

"I never asked you to compromise anything for me," he says quietly, his voice thick. "I never would."

You look away, your gaze falling to the floor. "I know. But this isn’t just about you. It’s about my career. My integrity."

"And what about us?" he asks, his voice breaking slightly. "Where does that leave us?"

You have no answer, the words lodged in your throat. The silence stretches, broken only by the faint hum of activity outside the room.

Finally, Jeonghan exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I can’t do this right now," he mutters, taking a step back. "I need...I need to get out of here."

Jeonghan finds himself at the bar later that evening, the neon lights washing over him in hazy blues and reds. The whiskey in his glass is halfway gone before Soonyoung slides onto the stool next to him, his arrival quiet but not unnoticed.

"You look like shit," Soonyoung says, his tone light despite the obvious concern in his eyes.

"Thanks," Jeonghan mutters, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

They sit in silence for a moment before Soonyoung breaks it. "Want to talk about it?"

Jeonghan stares at his drink, the ice melting faster than he can keep up with. "I don’t know what we’re doing anymore," he admits, the words coming out heavier than he expected. "Me and her."

Soonyoung hums thoughtfully, taking a slow sip of his drink. "You two have always been complicated."

Jeonghan huffs out a humorless laugh. "That’s one way to put it."

"But," Soonyoung says, setting his glass down, "you’ve also always figured it out."

Jeonghan doesn’t respond, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and longing.

"You’re not going to fix it tonight," Soonyoung continues, his voice quieter now. "But if it matters—and I know it does—you’ll find a way. Just...don’t wait too long, yeah?"

Jeonghan nods slowly, the whiskey burning on its way down. Soonyoung’s words linger, a reminder of what he already knows but isn’t ready to face.

Not yet.

FORMULA 1 LENOVO GRANDE PRÊMIO DE SÃO PAULO 2024 Track: Autódromo José Carlos Pace

The rain is relentless in São Paulo, hammering down on the paddock and turning the atmosphere into a chaotic mess of drenched personnel and frayed nerves. Qualifying has been suspended indefinitely, the downpour rendering the track undriveable, and the mood in the Ferrari garage is grim. The asphalt glistens under the floodlights, reflecting streaks of color from team banners and sponsor logos. It feels like the world is holding its breath.

You’ve never liked rain. It has a way of amplifying what’s already simmering under the surface, and today is no exception. Your heart pounds as you weave through the maze of garages, dodging puddles and sidelong glances from team members. You know exactly where he’ll be—Jeonghan never strays far from the Ferrari setup, even when there’s nothing to do but wait.

Sure enough, there he is. Sitting on the edge of a workbench, his race suit unzipped to his waist and his damp undershirt clinging to his torso. His head is bowed, one hand gripping the edge of the bench while the other pushes wet strands of hair back from his forehead. He looks exhausted—physically, emotionally—but the moment your shoes scuff against the concrete floor, his eyes snap up to meet yours.

You’ve been blowing up his phone all week. Texts, calls, voice notes—all unanswered or met with cold, clipped replies.

"Jeonghan," you start, the sound of your voice barely carrying over the rain pelting the garage roof.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t smile. "What are you doing here?"

The coldness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, but you force yourself to step closer. "I could ask you the same thing."

His laugh is short, bitter. "Why are you surprised? This is where I always am."

"Don’t do that," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Don’t act like this is normal. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks."

"I haven’t been ignoring you," he snaps, pushing off the bench. He stands tall now, towering over you, his hands resting on his hips. "I’ve been busy."

"Busy?" You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "You call one-word replies busy? Jeonghan, I’ve been calling and texting nonstop, and you’ve barely said anything to me."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he says nothing. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the distant clatter of tools being packed away. Finally, he exhales sharply, running a hand through his damp hair again.

"Maybe I’m tired," he says, his voice quieter but no less sharp. "Maybe I’m sick of pretending everything’s fine when it’s not."

Your heart twists at the admission, but you push it aside. "What’s not fine? Tell me, Jeonghan. Because I don’t understand why you’re shutting me out."

He shakes his head, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. "You don’t understand?" His voice rises, cracking with the weight of his frustration. "How could you not? You tore me apart in that article like I was just another driver. Like I meant nothing to you."

"It’s my job," you argue, but the words sound weak even to your ears.

"Your job?" he repeats, throwing his arms up. "You mean the job where you’re supposed to be unbiased? Yeah, I’ve noticed how ‘unbiased’ you’ve been lately. Especially when it comes to me."

"That’s not fair," you shoot back, taking a step closer. "You know I’ve always tried to be honest—"

"Honest?" He laughs, the sound bitter and hollow. "You call dragging my worst moments into the spotlight honest? You didn’t write about me; you dissected me. Like I was nothing more than a story."

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let him see how much his words cut. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."

"But you did," he says, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. "And now I don’t even know where we stand."

"We stand..." You falter, your throat tightening. "We stand where we’ve always stood. I care about you, Jeonghan. But this is complicated."

He steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "It doesn’t have to be. It’s only complicated because you’re making it that way."

You look away, unable to hold his gaze. "You don’t understand what this means for me. For my career. For the season."

"And what about me?" he presses, his voice breaking. "What about what this means for us?"

The weight of his words hangs between you, heavy and suffocating. You take a shaky step back, the sound of the rain growing louder in the silence. "Maybe I should go," you whisper, turning toward the garage entrance.

"Don’t," he says sharply, and before you can take another step, his hand wraps around your wrist. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You barely have time to register the movement before he’s pulling you back, his other hand cupping your face as his lips crash against yours. The rain spills into the garage, soaking you both as his kiss deepens, desperate and unyielding. His hands slide to your waist, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead presses against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I won’t give you up," he whispers, his voice raw. "But I need you to choose."

"Jeonghan..." Your voice trembles, but he cuts you off.

"You love me," he says, his hands cupping your face. "Yes or no."

You hesitate, the weight of his question pressing down on you like the storm outside.

"Come on, sweetheart," he pleads, his voice cracking. "Don’t make me beg."

"I’m scared," you admit finally, your voice breaking. "Scared of losing myself. Of losing everything I’ve worked for."

He exhales shakily, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Are you willing to lose me to keep writing?"

"I..." The words catch in your throat, the truth slipping through your fingers. "I don’t know."

His hands drop to his sides, and he takes a step back, the distance between you like a chasm. "When you decide," he says quietly, his voice heavy with resignation, "give me a call."

The rain clears just in time for Sunday’s race, and Jeonghan is unstoppable. He weaves through the slick track with the precision and grace that made him a legend, crossing the finish line first and extending his lead in the championship.

But you’re not there to celebrate with him.

You watch from the media center, your chest tight as the cameras capture his triumphant smile. But there’s a hollowness in his expression, a flicker of something unspoken as he scans the crowd for someone who isn’t there.

The post-race interviews blur together, and even as you type up your article, the words feel lifeless. Without him beside you, the hotel room feels cold and sterile, the thrill of the race dulled by the ache in your chest.

The days leading up to the Las Vegas Grand Prix are a haze of press releases and anticipation. Jeonghan is one race away from becoming a world champion, but all you can think about is the sound of his voice, the warmth of his touch, the way he looked at you under the floodlights.

Your editor calls to praise your latest pieces, but the compliments feel hollow. The articles are polished and professional, but they lack the spark you used to feel when writing about him.

You glance at your phone, your thumb hovering over Jeonghan’s name. You haven’t called. Haven’t texted. Haven’t dared to.

Because the truth is, you’re terrified.

Terrified of losing yourself.

But even more terrified of losing him.

FORMULA 1 HEINEKEN SILVER LAS VEGAS GRAND PRIX 2024 Track: Las Vegas Strip Circuit

The sun sets over Las Vegas in a haze of neon and desert dust, the city already buzzing with anticipation for the final race of the season. But in the paddock, the air is electric for all the wrong reasons.

Jeonghan crashes out in Q3.

Your eyes are glued to the screen as Jeonghan’s car slides violently into the barriers, the sharp sound of the impact slicing through the usual hum of commentary. Gasps ripple through the room, but your stomach lurches with something deeper than professional concern.

You’re in the media center when it happens, staring at the screen as his time locks in. The commentators speculate, the other journalists start drafting headlines, but you can’t hear a word of it. Your heart is already in free fall, and you don’t breathe again until he climbs out of the car, his hands held up in frustration as he waves off the medics.

P8. A disastrous result for the race that could make—or break—his championship. It might as well be the end of the world.

The room erupts into murmurs as analysts speculate on strategy and rival team fans cheer, but you barely hear them. Your editor sidles up to your desk, his grin practically gleaming in the fluorescent light.

"Well, well," he says, leaning over your shoulder. "Looks like we’ve got our headline for tomorrow. ‘Jeonghan’s Championship Dream in Tatters.’ Perfect angle to dissect his mistakes, maybe even his cocky attitude catching up with him—"

His words fade into the background as something clicks inside you. Every fiber of your being recoils at the thought of reducing Jeonghan—your Jeonghan—to nothing more than a headline. You love writing, yes, but this? This isn’t writing. This is tearing apart the one person who matters most to you, all for clicks and ad revenue.

Without thinking, you swivel in your chair, fixing your editor with a glare so sharp it silences him mid-sentence. "This is my two weeks’ notice."

He blinks, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." You stand, grabbing your bag and laptop. "I’m done."

Before he can argue, you’re already out the door, leaving behind the cacophony of keyboards and camera flashes. The paddock is chaos as you weave through the throngs of team personnel and fans, your heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and urgency.

You run.

The Ferrari garage is chaos. Engineers scramble to pack up the car, Jeonghan’s manager barks into his phone, and his publicist looks ready to faint. You push your way through it all, ignoring the glares and the shouted protests.

“He doesn’t want to see anyone right now,” Soonyoung says, stepping in front of you as you approach the motorhome.

“I don’t care,” you snap, shoving past him.

The motorhome is empty.

For a moment, you’re frozen, your chest heaving as you glance around the pristine space. The stillness only amplifies your worry. And then it hits you, like a sudden gust of wind: you know exactly where he is.

You sprint again, your heartbeat pounding louder than the chaos of the paddock behind you. The world blurs into streaks of neon lights, the hum of distant conversations, and the faint roar of engines being powered down for the night. The grandstands loom ahead, their cold metal steps stretching upward like an impossible climb. Each step burns in your legs, your breath coming in shallow gasps, but you don’t let up.

You don’t stop until you see him.

Jeonghan sits alone, halfway up the grandstands, his figure slouched as though the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. The floodlights bathe him in a pale glow, illuminating the soft curve of his profile, his hair catching the light in strands of gold. His head is tilted back, eyes fixed on the track below as if searching for answers in the lines he couldn’t master tonight. A half-finished beer dangles loosely from his fingertips, the bottle swaying slightly with every small movement. Beside him, another bottle sits untouched, condensation pooling on the aluminum seat beneath it.

Waiting.

You take the last steps slowly, your chest tightening as your breathing evens out. Up close, his exhaustion is palpable—dark shadows under his eyes, his usual sharp features softened by an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“I knew you’d come,” he says without looking at you, breaking the silence. His voice is soft, but it carries a weight that settles heavily in your chest. He doesn’t even look at you, his gaze still fixed somewhere far ahead, lost in thought.

You hover for a moment before lowering yourself into the seat beside him. The cold aluminum seeps through your jeans, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your own skin after the sprint. Jeonghan doesn’t move, doesn’t turn toward you, and the distance between you feels like a chasm.

“Jeonghan...” you start, your voice hesitant, but he cuts you off with a bitter laugh.

“This is what happens when my lucky charm leaves me,” he mutters, a sad smile curling at the edges of his lips. His tone is light, but it does nothing to hide the ache in his words. He takes a slow sip of his beer, the motion unhurried.

You glance at the track, the sharp turns and straightaways now cloaked in shadows. “It’s not your fault,” you say softly, your hand reaching out to brush his arm. He flinches at the contact, his muscles tense beneath your touch, but he doesn’t pull away.

“P8 doesn’t mean it’s over.”

This time, he turns to look at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. The raw vulnerability there makes your chest tighten further. His voice is quieter now, almost fragile. “You don’t get it,” he murmurs, shaking his head as his gaze drops to the beer bottle in his hand. “This race... it’s everything. If I win, I’m a champion. If I don’t...” He trails off, his words hanging in the air between you.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” His voice cracks, and the sound is almost unbearable. “Scared of all of it. The pressure, the expectations... losing.”

You stare at him, the usually unshakable Jeonghan, the Golden Boy, the Ferrari God, unraveling before you. Your hands move without thinking, cupping his face and tilting his chin so he’s forced to meet your gaze again. His skin is warm beneath your palms, a faint flush from the alcohol—or maybe the stress—lingering across his cheeks.

“Jeonghan,” you say, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. You press your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his as you close the distance between you. “You love me. Yes or no.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. And then his hands come up to grip your wrists, his touch firm but trembling. “Yes,” he whispers, the word spilling from his lips without hesitation, raw and resolute. His voice shakes, but his eyes hold yours, steady and certain despite the tears brimming there.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you lean in, your lips brushing against his forehead in a feather-light kiss. “Good,” you whisper, the word carrying a quiet strength. “You’ll always have me.”

His grip on your wrists loosens, his expression shifting to something between confusion and hope. “But your job... your writing?”

“I’m quitting,” you say simply, letting the words hang for a moment. You watch the shock bloom across his face, his eyebrows shooting up as he sits back slightly, pulling your hands with him.

“You’re what?”

You laugh softly, brushing your thumb against his cheek as if to soothe him. “Not writing, idiot,” you tease gently. “I’m still going to write. But I’m not writing for any organization that profits off me tearing the man I love to shreds.”

His lips part, but no words come. He blinks rapidly, trying to process, and you take the opportunity to continue.

“Besides,” you add, your voice lighter now, “Sky Sports has been trying to recruit me for an on-air job for almost a year now.”

He stares at you, his gaze searching your face for any hint of doubt or regret. Finally, his voice comes, soft and uncertain. “You love me?”

The corners of your mouth lift into a playful smile, and you raise an eyebrow. “Is that what you decide to focus on?”

“Y/N,” he says again, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost desperate. His hands move to clasp yours, his fingers lacing through yours as if afraid you’ll slip away. “Do you love me?”

You answer with action, leaning in and capturing his lips in a quick, tender kiss. His breath hitches, his fingers tightening around yours. “Win tomorrow, golden boy,” you whisper, your lips brushing his as you speak. “And I’ll tell you my answer.”

For the first time that night, Jeonghan smiles—a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes and softens the tension in his face. And in that moment, as the world fades to just the two of you under the floodlights, you know he’s already won.

Jeonghan is going to lose.

He’s sure of it.

The car feels like it’s fighting him at every turn, the tires slipping just slightly when he needs them to grip, the brakes locking up when he’s trying to conserve them for the final laps. His body aches from the sheer force of the race—the g-forces on the corners, the strain in his neck, the tension in his hands from gripping the wheel too hard.

The numbers on his dashboard blur together, his mind a muddled mess of strategies, tire temps, and sector times. He’s made up four places since the chaotic start and sits in P4 now, but every gain feels like a herculean effort. Every corner feels like it could be his last.

He slams the steering wheel in frustration as he exits another turn slower than he should, the car wobbling slightly under him. “This isn’t working,” he growls into the radio, his voice clipped and strained.

His engineer’s calm voice filters through the crackling static. “We know, Jeonghan. Stay focused. We believe in you.”

Jeonghan clenches his teeth, a biting retort forming on his tongue, but before he can spit it out, the radio crackles again.

“Your girl is here. In the garage. She’s watching.”

“What the fuck?” The words come out before he can stop them, his tone incredulous.

“Soonyoung wanted to surprise you,” his engineer explains, and Jeonghan can practically hear the grin in his voice.

His mind stutters to a halt, and for a moment, all the noise fades—the engine’s roar, the tires screeching against the asphalt, even the deafening wind rushing past his helmet. He blinks, the image of you sitting in the garage flashing in his mind, your presence there grounding him in a way nothing else can.

And then, like a light cutting through the fog, your words echo in his head. “Win tomorrow, and I’ll tell you my answer.”

His grip on the wheel tightens, his breath steadies, and something in him clicks. It’s not just the car anymore—it’s him. His mind, his body, the machine—they all fall into alignment like pieces of a puzzle.

“Copy,” he says into the radio, his voice calm now. The frustration is gone, replaced by a steely determination.

Lap 50. Jeonghan is chasing down P3, the gap shrinking corner by corner. His tires scream in protest as he takes each turn with precision, braking just a fraction later, accelerating just a fraction earlier. The car isn’t perfect, but it doesn’t need to be. He’s making it work.

As he dives into the braking zone at Turn 7, the car in front of him falters, locking up slightly. Jeonghan seizes the opportunity, darting to the inside line and slipping past with a calculated aggression that leaves no room for error.

P3.

Lap 53. The leader pack is within sight now—Mingyu in P1, his closest rival, and Seungcheol in P2, a surprising dark horse this season. The three of them have danced this dance all season, but tonight feels different. Tonight, everything is on the line.

Lap 55. Seungcheol’s car begins to falter, his tires degrading as he struggles to maintain pace. Jeonghan hovers in his slipstream, biding his time.

On the main straight, he pulls to the outside, pushing his car to its limits. The engine roars as he edges past Seungcheol, the two of them side by side into the braking zone. Jeonghan holds his line, his heart pounding as he feels the car stick.

P2.

Lap 58. Mingyu is just ahead, the gap less than a second now. Jeonghan can feel the strain in his body, his hands cramping from the sheer effort, but he doesn’t let up. Every ounce of energy he has left is poured into these final laps.

Lap 59. DRS is open, the rear wing flattening to reduce drag as Jeonghan closes the gap on the straight. Mingyu defends aggressively, forcing Jeonghan to the outside.

They enter Turn 10 side by side, the apex inches away. Jeonghan holds his breath, his tires brushing the curbs as he edges ahead. But Mingyu doesn’t back down, his car pushing right up to Jeonghan’s rear wing as they exit the turn.

Lap 60. The final lap. It’s a battle of wills now, neither of them giving an inch. Jeonghan’s heart feels like it’s about to burst, the sweat dripping down his face soaking into the padding of his helmet.

The final corner looms ahead, and Jeonghan knows this is it. Mingyu is on his inside, the two of them neck and neck as they approach the braking zone.

Jeonghan brakes just a millisecond later, his car sliding slightly as he takes the tighter line. He holds his breath, willing the car to stay steady, and then he’s through.

The checkered flag waves, the two cars crossing the line almost simultaneously.

Jeonghan’s chest heaves as he slumps back in his seat, his mind a blur of exhaustion and adrenaline. He doesn’t know if he’s won or lost—everything was too close, too fast.

The radio crackles to life, and for a moment, all he hears is chaos—shouting, cheering, voices overlapping in a cacophony of noise.

And then, cutting through it all, your voice rings out.

“YOON JEONGHAN, TWO-TIME WORLD CHAMPION!”

The words hit him like a lightning bolt, and a yell tears from his throat, loud and raw and triumphant. He punches the air, his entire body trembling with emotion as he lets out another scream, so loud he’s sure the neighboring cars can hear him.

He’s done it.

Through the static of the radio, he hears your laughter, bright and unrestrained, and it’s the only sound that matters.

Jeonghan rolls into Parc Fermé with deliberate precision, the sound of his engine fading into silence as he pulls to a stop. His hands are shaking, his knuckles pale from the grip he’s maintained for the last grueling laps. The cockpit feels stifling, and yet he lingers for a second longer, the enormity of what’s just happened crashing over him like a wave.

He’s done it.

The realization leaves him breathless. His fingers fumble with the steering wheel as he pulls it free, his movements automatic even as his mind spirals. Around him, the world is chaos. Fans scream from the stands, the floodlights of Las Vegas painting the scene in stark gold and shadows. Through the static in his earpiece, his engineer’s voice is still ringing with elation, and he hears indistinct shouting from his crew, but it all blends into a distant roar.

All Jeonghan can think about is you.

He climbs out of the car, bracing his foot on the halo as he pushes himself upright. For a brief moment, he stands tall atop the machine, his body vibrating with adrenaline. His fists shoot into the air, and he lets out a triumphant yell, a sound ripped from deep within his chest. The Ferrari crew erupts in response, a sea of red swarming toward him, shouting his name, their arms outstretched in celebration.

But Jeonghan’s eyes are already searching, scanning the barriers beyond the chaos, darting from one face to another. He’s not looking for his engineers or the cameras or even his teammates. He’s looking for you.

And then he sees you.

You’re there, pressed against the barricade, your hands gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles are white. Your face is wet—tears streaming freely—but your smile is brighter than anything he’s ever seen. It’s disbelieving, joyous, and so achingly familiar that his breath catches in his throat.

In that moment, everything else fades away. The cheers of his team, the flashing cameras, the rules about protocol—none of it exists anymore.

Jeonghan jumps down from the car, tossing the wheel to a waiting mechanic, and tears at his helmet strap. The world around him is a blur of movement and noise—his team surging forward, the cameras flashing, the announcer’s voice booming overhead—but none of it registers. His helmet comes off with a sharp tug, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat as he grips the sleek surface in one hand and bolts toward you.

He’s moving before he realizes it, his boots pounding against the pavement as he cuts through the throng of people. The barricade draws closer, and the sight of you—your tear-streaked cheeks, your trembling shoulders—grounds him in a way nothing else could.

When he reaches you, he doesn’t stop.

His hands find you immediately. One curls around your neck, his palm warm and steady against your skin, while the other cups your face, his thumb brushing away the tears tracing paths down your cheek. His chest is still heaving, his breath ragged from the exertion of the race, but his touch is impossibly tender.

Your lips part, and your voice comes out in a trembling whisper, just loud enough for him to hear over the chaos. “Congratulations, pretty boy.”

It’s like the world holds its breath. For one fleeting second, it’s just the two of you. The noise of the paddock fades, the flashing lights dim, and all that remains is the quiet intimacy of your words.

Jeonghan’s lips curve into a smile so pure, so unrestrained, that it feels like sunlight breaking through a storm. “You love me,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent. His forehead dips to rest against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Yes or—”

You don’t let him finish.

Your arms shoot out, locking around his neck as you pull him down into a kiss. It’s desperate and dizzying, a culmination of everything left unsaid. Jeonghan freezes for the briefest of moments, his eyes widening, before melting into you entirely. His lips move against yours, soft but insistent, and the hand on your neck slides up to thread through your hair, holding you close as if you might disappear.

“Yes,” you whisper against his mouth, your voice breaking. Your hands fist in the front of his race suit, anchoring yourself as you press your forehead to his. “Yes. I love you.”

The barriers around you tremble as the Ferrari crew erupts in celebration, their cheers deafening. Jeonghan barely registers it. His fist shoots into the air, his lips still brushing against yours as he laughs—a sound full of pure, unrestrained joy.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he murmurs, his voice shaking with a mix of awe and certainty.

And when you smile back at him, it’s brighter than the floodlights, warmer than the victory.

EPILOGUE

FORMULA 1 ROLEX AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX 2024Track: Albert Park Grand Prix Circuit

The air at Albert Park hums with the kind of energy that only a new season can bring. The stands are packed, a sea of flags waving for drivers and teams, and the scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint tang of engine oil. It’s not quite spring yet, but the Melbourne sun still beats down relentlessly, leaving Jeonghan’s fireproofs clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he strides out of the Ferrari garage.

His mind buzzes with the aftermath of qualifying—P2 isn’t pole, but it’s close enough to feel like a promise. Yet, beneath the satisfaction, there’s the familiar tug of nerves that always follows a strong start. Tomorrow is what counts.

His publicist catches up to him, clipboard in hand. “Sky Sports first,” she says, her tone clipped but not unkind.

Jeonghan barely suppresses a groan, already knowing what awaits him. He doesn’t mind media—not entirely—but right now, his thoughts are miles away from answering questions about his out lap or tire degradation.

He rounds the corner into the media pen, where cameras are trained on bright logos and polished smiles. But his eyes find you immediately, waiting just behind the barricade, a microphone in hand, your hair catching the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.

You’re a vision.

He slows as he approaches, his publicist muttering instructions he doesn’t bother to hear. Your eyes catch his, and a secret smile spreads across your lips. He mirrors it, his heart lifting in a way that has nothing to do with his qualifying position.

Jeonghan leans against the barricade, his hands braced on the metal. It’s casual, nonchalant—a stark contrast to the spark simmering beneath the surface. As the questions begin, his fingers shift, brushing yours. The touch is featherlight, a soft sweep of skin against skin, but it’s enough to make his chest tighten.

The lanyard around your neck gleams in the sunlight, a stark reminder of how much had changed—and how much hadn’t. You’re still you.

And you’re wearing it.

The chain glints faintly against your skin, the two charms catching the light with each movement. One is the microphone, delicate and detailed, perfectly crafted. The other is his initial: J. Small, simple, yet undeniably his.

(You’d teased him endlessly when he gave it to you at Christmas. “Modest as always, aren’t you?” you’d laughed.

“Of course,” he’d replied, his voice low and teasing as he leaned into your hair. “One charm for your new job, because I’m so proud of you. And one for me, because I’m so amazing.”

“Two-time world champion,” you’d corrected, poking his ribs.

“Two-time world champion,” he’d agreed with a grin, pulling you into his arms.)

“Jeonghan,” you greet, a secret smile tugging at your lips.

The sound of his name on your lips—professional but laced with affection—sends a warmth through him that he doesn’t bother to hide. “Y/N,” he replies, his tone light but his eyes heavy with meaning.

The interview begins, your questions sharp and to the point. Jeonghan answers with his usual ease, the confidence that had earned him his titles. But he’s distracted, his focus flickering between your voice and the way your thumb absently brushes the microphone charm as you speak.

“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who only managed P2,” you tease, tilting your head slightly.

He leans closer, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Just keeping it interesting. Wouldn’t want to win everything too easily.”

You roll your eyes, but the soft laugh that escapes you betrays your amusement.

The banter continues, each exchange laced with an undercurrent of warmth that only the two of you can fully understand. To anyone watching, it’s just another driver and journalist sharing a lighthearted moment. But to Jeonghan, it’s everything.

When the cameras finally cut, the energy between you shifts. He leans over the barricade without hesitation, his hands curling around the edge for balance as he dips his head toward you.

The first kiss is quick, a soft press of lips that feels like a punctuation mark to the conversation.

The second is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the fact that he can do this now.

The third lingers, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that makes your breath catch.

“Jeonghan,” you murmur, glancing around with a mix of amusement and exasperation. But your grin is wide, and your cheeks are flushed, and he knows you’re not annoyed in the slightest.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice so low it barely reaches you. His eyes are soft, his expression open in a way that’s reserved only for you.

Your hand finds his wrist, your fingers curling gently around it. “I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady, your gaze unyielding.

For a moment, the world around you fades—the bustling media pen, the hum of conversations, the clicking cameras. All that exists is the space between you, filled with unspoken promises and the quiet certainty of what comes next.

And as Jeonghan straightens, reluctantly stepping back into the whirlwind of his world, he knows he’s carrying a part of you with him—just as you carry a part of him. Always.

a/n: and that, was full throttle. i cannot express to any of you how proud i am of myself for finishing this. i think i spent more time deleting things on this doc than i did writing it and somehow, i fucking love the way this turned out. alta, kae, if you're reading this - thank you. from the bottom of my heart. this story would have never happened had it not been for the two of you motivating me to get this out of my head and onto a doc. you both inspire me every day and i am lucky that i had you on my side for this one.

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

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repeat rebound (m) Ch.5 : repeating phone calls

Chapter list

Pairing: Fem!reader x fwb!soonyoung

Genre: Crack, smut, fluff

word count: 3.4k

tags: mention of kids, grocery shopping, domestic vibes, mention of alcohol, dilf!wonwoo, neaighbor!wonwoo, pet names (good girl, baby), heavy dirty talk, phone sex, video call sex, switch!soonyoung, mutual masturbation, dacryphilia, suggestive wonwoo content

Summary: The best way to get over someone is to get under someone. Again and again and again.

author note: hi, she's back.

tag list @nikkell @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @i-dont-give-a-fok @darthlunaa @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan

“So you have a daughter? And you and her mom are divorced?”

Yep, you definitely jumped a few chapters here.

Wonwoo nods back at you with a solemn gaze. “I’m guessing that’s why I was alone that night.”

“I’m sorry, but…you could understand where I was coming from.”

“I do, but I didn’t figure it out until I saw that the picture was knocked over on my table,” he chuckles to himself.

Wonwoo invites you over to his ex’s place later that day, knowing he couldn’t be far from Winnie. He offers you tea, which you gladly accept, and waits as Wonwoo tucks his daughter in for you both to discuss the recent events privately. You sit on the couch, a healthy distance away from him, and politely sip your tea.

“I told myself if I ever saw you again, I’d explain myself because only god knows how guilty you must’ve felt. And there you were, mere feet away from me.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in the process of his words, like dangling your body above an erupting volcano. “Crazy how small the world is.”

“It’s probably weird but…”

“But what?”

He shakes his head, not completing himself. “It’s probably best it didn’t happen, seeing as we’re gonna be neighbors for a bit.” He put out an open hand. “Hope you welcome me with open arms neighbor.”

You accept his handshake with a warm smile. “Welcome neighbor.”

You wonder all night whether the rest of his sentence is what you think it’d be.

It’s probably weird, but I wish you would’ve let me explain. Or, It’s probably weird, but I think about how that night almost went all the time. Or even, It’s probably weird, but I wish I could’ve fucked you that night like you deserve.

You‘re curious about which one is the closest to him. Either way, you knew if things went the way they should’ve, you’d be screaming his name from all hours of the day.

Of course, that didn’t matter now. Its best things were left the way they are. No matter how hot of a DILF he is.

To distract yourself, you attempt contact with Jeonghan again, only receiving dial tones in response. You think to yourself if sleeping together, even if it was meaningless, was worth taking a risk on. You stop after the tenth attempt and go back to budget keeping.

What Mingyu paid you would pull you over for a bit but you knew eventually it’ll all run out. You don’t want to think about what happens once it does.

And like a miracle, your phone goes off, Jeonghan’s contact name popping up on screen: demon man. “Took you long enough.”

“Why? Miss me already?”

He hasn’t called you back in so long and he thinks it’s time to joke? “I was worried sick. Excuse me if my best friend goes awol and—what’s that?”

“What’s—mm—what?”

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“You could’ve called at a better time but what is it? I’m all ears.”

“No, no. Sounds like you’re actually busy, so call me back when you’re not. Thanks.”

You hang up on him, trying to decipher what you heard on your own. If you knew any better, it sounded like he was around other people, machinery, and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. Whatever it was, he’d eventually explain. And you weren’t one to pry, especially if it’s what you were thinking it was and that he lied to you. Again.

Wrong distraction. You can do better.

“How’s work?”

You can hear Soonyoung smile through the phone. “The bride luckily is no bridezilla. All I can ask for…what are you wearing?”

You roll your eyes, grinning from ear to ear, “Shut up.”

“Come on, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You can practically hear the corner of his lips turn up in a sinister Cheshire smile.

“You’re literally at work.”

“Yeah and everyone else is basically out with their clients. I’m in my office dealing with my own shit. Entertain me a little. Pretty please…”

“Fine,” you glance down at your cozy attire as if you’ve forgotten, before picking up the conversation, “ A My Melody t-shirt and short set.”

“Hot.”

“You’re so annoying.” You scoff.

“Take pics for me.”

You get up from bed and walk to the mirror, capturing a quick picture before sending it. The man audibly coos from the other end, indicating its arrival. “You look adorable, aw. Wish I could rip that off of you and bend you over my lap.”

Your eyes shoot open.“Soonyoung!”

“Relax. No one’s even around. If it bothers you that much I’ll—“You hear him get up from a desk, “continue this in the bathroom. The single stall kind. Better?”

You hear a heavy door shut in the background and a loud click of lock follows. You sigh, feeling a bit of relief. “Yes. Actually.”

“Good, because maybe you’ll like what I see.” There’s a slight rustling before your text tone goes off, seeing him done up in business casual attire. In your humble opinion, he’s the one that looks hot. His shirt buttoned only two-thirds of the way, reveals a delectable amount of skin. Perfect for biting, nibbling, marking. Your mind is haywire thinking of his perfect dainty little nipples, nicely shaped to suck on. Fuck did it suck to have mismatching lives right now.

“Now you look good enough to eat.”

“Yeah, wish you could be with me right now? Thinking about how long I can fuck you in here before we get caught?”

“Mmh,” your hand naturally falls on top of your clothed heat, rubbing the silk between your already moist folds, “I love how you get me.”

“Yeah? Whip out Facetime for me then.”

You switch out into the camera, showing off your reflection in the mirror. Your legs dangle off the bed as you try posing seductively as you can. Soonyoung appears on screen soon enough, air pods in his ears and hard cock poking out of his slacks, appearing before his office’s bathroom stall mirror. He presses his lips together, a low growl taking residence in the column of his throat. “Mmh, spread your legs for me like a good girl.”

You do as he commands, and you prop your legs up on the edge of the bed. Teasingly, you allow your legs to part to reveal the wet stain on your silk shorts, which only went your arousal thick and abundant enough to soak through. “Look at you, wet smack in the middle where your pretty pussy is. I’d kill to eat your pretty fucking cunt right now.”

You ran two fingers up your clothed pussy. “It misses you, thinking about your fat cock splitting me open—Mmh—I could cum just thinking about it.”

“Patience, baby, you can hold it for me.” He unbuttons the top of his pants, the zipper moving down achingly slowly before he palms himself over his underwear. “Just relax…take it off.”

Your pussy glistens from the room lighting and reflects back in the mirror the moment it comes off. Your fingers gingerly reach over–making sure the view is aesthetic and clear–your arousal gushing around your digits. Soonyoung’s adam’s apple bobs, and a low grunt escapes from his lips. “So fucking cute…So needy and perfect. I wish I could be your fingers now, touching your skin, kissing your face, cock inside you so deep you swear you’re seeing stars.”

You bite your bottom lip, fingers easing over your slit before plunging them inside you at the pace you imagine he would. You conjure the ghost of his breath on your skin, the graze of his teeth biting at the side of your neck, and his cock curling helplessly inside you as he rams you into the next century. “Mmh, Soonyoung…”

“…you look so…sexy right now…”

He finally pulls out his cock, rubbing up his length, steadying his gaze on you. His voice drops in a low rasp, echoing praises. “Keep doing that baby…I’m gonna make you cum…Such good girl–mmh–doing everything I ask. You could eat me up? I could eat you up, and you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod lazily, only moaning in agreement.

“You sound pretty baby, but I wanna hear you talk…talk to me, talk to me while I fuck you, baby.”

“So…hard, Soon-nyoung.” You buck your hips up. “But I wish you were here…your cock looks so pretty…want to put you in my mouth…”

“Mmmh, wanna suck on my cock? You ask too, too much, baby…” he draws out something in his mouth, swishing something inside, before spitting on his cock. His smile runs wide like a jester, but his eyes dipped in a haze as if under the influence of psychedelics. “But it wants you too…your pretty mouth was made for my cock, baby. Can’t help but imagine how you look with your lips wrapped around me…can’t stand not having you keep it warm right now…”

The slick sound of Soonyoung getting himself off drives you more insane with every passing minute, whimpering leaving your lips replaying the image of his salvia splattering over his shaft. “Soon, that was so hot, what the fuck?”

“It’s funny. When you cuss at me like that, you still sound like an Angel…my perfect little Angel…made for taking my cock…you’d take my cock so well right now…”

You throw your head back, knuckles deep inside you. You choke up on your words, desperation “Oh fuck…you don’t know what you’re doing to me, Soon. Fuck. I’m so fucking horny right now because of you…”

Soonyoung goes silent, having you only hear the sound of his breathing in its presence, until he voluntarily tension. “Are you crying, Y/n?

“…no,” you answer on cue as tears begin to shed.

“Fuck baby, that’s so pretty.”

“Soonyoung…” You whine, practically shaking as his grip visibly wraps tighter around his cock, flicking his wrist faster.

“Push deeper more fingers, cry for me, Angel.” His voice is so sweet and tender, you could just melt. You comply immediately, filling yourself with three digits as you fall back in bed, scooting up on the bed frame and turning the camera around to make sure Soonyoung still gets his show.

“Feel so good, baby, such a mess all for me… I could...I could…” he whimpers desperately, fucking his hand until his voice echoed back to his ears through the listening devices, “I might cum, Angel…help me out here.”

“Soonyoung…you sound so good…”

He winces. “Not like that baby, hold me ba—“

“Moan for me more, baby boy…”

“Y/n…” He ebbs out his whine stricken, feeling the tension in his thighs.

“You sound so pretty,” you encourage, “ is that how you normally sound while I choke on your cock? I don’t think so… more for me…beg me…”

“Baby…mmmh, I want to cum in your pussy so badly…please…”

Soonyoung made sex more enjoyable than most, he wasn’t afraid to go weak when you ask. Damn, did you love to hear him whimper.

“My pretty little dildo is talking back at me so much today. Whimper for me, toy. Your turn to cry.” His cheeks matched his ears, red as a summer sunset. Perspiration beads on his forehead as he clenched his thighs. His voice comes out in bursts of anguish, tears giving him glassy vision. “Yn…”

“Faster, fuck your cock faster…I want to see you cum all over your pretty finger…you want me to fuck you? Hmm…want me to fuck your pretty cock?”

“Oh…fuck me, fuck yeah, fuck me, Y/n…use me…shit!” He cums hard spilling like a sprinkler on the bathroom floor, “Fuck—fuck…”

His eyes were tired but caught you rubbing your clit, your voice buzzing in his ears. “Mmh, Soonyoung…”

Your voice stretches out into squeaks until you’re cumming like he did. You drench your sheets, staining them and your inner thighs with your cum, and look back at him with half-open eyes. “That was really fun.”

“We should do it again, just in person next time. And soon.”

You nod back into the camera, giving a curt kiss to the camera before signing off and cleaning up the mess you’ve made. That session alone took too much out of you and find yourself asleep shortly after, not waking up until it’s close to dinner time and that’s when you hear a knock on your door.

On the other side was Wonwoo, looking back at you with a soft spectacled gaze. “Hey. Winnie and I were wondering if you wanted to catch dinner with us?”

“You’re going out?” At the thought of food, a soft rumble only you’re aware of plays in your stomach, indicating your famished state.

“Actually staying in, was planning to hit the grocery store but I’m not really sure where it is. Thought I’d ask you.”

You know damn well that he could just pull up Google Maps and find it himself. No problem. But the fact that he thought to ask you and invite you over to dinner as well turns out butterflies in your stomach and you can’t help but accept.

“Just let me go get changed and I’ll be at your door.”

You guide them both to the supermarket around the corner, Winnie in between you with your fingers laced through her tiny ones. She insists she’s too big for the child’s cart and she’s satisfied on the ground, politely following. You realize how much she resembles her dad, replicating his grin that can’t help but smile back at. “She’s adorable,” you say as she runs off to get a snack she was just stomping her feet excitedly over a few seconds ago. “Don’t tell that too her, she’ll never stop visiting you,” her father grins.

You look back at the tall man to lightly nudge him, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“She’s all cute and polite right now, but you should see how she is after a week of knowing you. You should hear all the stories of the little prank. She pulls on Junhui, her mom’s husband.”

“And who does she learn that from,” you question with curious eyes.

He raises his hand, pearly whites on full display, “Guilty.”

“Daddy! Daddy! It’s buy one get two! Can we please get them?”

A toddler that understands the value of store sales. You could appreciate that.

Wonwoo bends down to her level. “You know you can finish that all. It can ruin your dinner to have too many snacks.”

“We can give them to Y/n!” She turns to you with wide puppy eyes. “Don’t you want them y/n?”

Well, how can you say no to that?

“Yeah, I don’t mind taking one.”

She jumps in that familiar action of pure joy and runs to hug your legs.

“She’s already close to making you her next victim. Maybe we’re already too late,” Wonwoo jokingly whispers.

Grocery shopping goes without a hitch, with only a slight bump of an unfamiliar middle-aged woman complimenting what a cute family you all made. To quote, “a beautiful couple with their beautiful daughter; what a precious sight.” You are going to correct her until Wonwoo intercepts by thanking her, zooming past her as you make the exits. You point that out, and he simply shrugs. “No harm so foul. Plus we all do look cute. Didn’t see a reason to refute.” And those words lingered all the way back to the apartments.

Images of you having a life other than your own, you see yourself, smiling while there’s a faceless masculine figure that hugs you lovingly from behind. You feel warm, cherished, and a little bit hopeful. You hadn’t thought about a life like this, since your last serious relationship and you hadn’t thought you would in, well, ever. Until now that is.

Back at Wonwoo’s place, you prepare help to prepare dinner and it is as delicious as any home-cooked dinner, especially with the presence of Winnie, who is a happy little kitchen assistant and eager dinner attendant. You share laughter and stories of Winnie’s childhood, discussing movies and hobbies, and seeing her eyes light up at the topic of giraffes. It makes you hope one day you’d have someone happy and joyous as her in your life.

Eventually, Winnie’s full stomach wins over her consciousness as she noticeably drifts off to sleep. Before Wonwoo let that happen, he helps her get ready for bed while you volunteer to take care of the dishes. When you finish up, it sounds like Wonwoo was close too, hearing him sing a sweep lullaby to lull Winnie successfully. Through the crack of the door, you see he kisses her good night before leaving. He closes the door behind him, smiling knowing that both of you’re both now finally alone. Well, as alone as you can be in his current situation.

“A drink? Like good times?” He asks already heading to the cabinet he knows his ex keeps around the alcohol.

“Funny. Last time I drank with you I thought I was making a big mistake. How can I know that wouldn’t be happening again?”

There’s something in his subtle grin that’s playfully mischievous, something you didn’t expect to see the first night you met him. “A glass of wine doesn’t hurt anyone. “

You accept the glass of wine against your better judgment and join him sitting crisscross on the couch

“It’s no 17-year-old Cabernet but barefoot is pretty good.” He chuckles.

“I’m a firm believer that cheap doesn't equal bad so you got me there.”

“So, assuming I didn’t get a chance last time, I’d really like to get to know you. Especially now that I’ll probably see you more. Neighbor.” He raises his white wine in your direction, to which you clink, simultaneously taking a sip. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, I only ever caught on to your name and how you smell like jasmines, so tell me something more about yourself.”

You bond over bottles and bottles over fermented grapes, smiling and laughing over the little things that come up in the topic. You hardly notice how your bodies inch closer and closer. The heat of his body radiates onto you like a furnace. You know it how he’s slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing flushed, taut skin. Skin you almost licked the sweat clean off if not for a silly misunderstanding.

“You’re…seducing me.” You squint with an accusatory finger in his direction.

“Interesting choice of words.”

“You’re not denying it.”

He finishes the last of his glass before setting it aside on the coffee table. “Maybe I’m figuring you out. Maybe I’m thinking about how that night one second we’re kissing, having a good time. Next, you run away from me.”

“Wonwoo, I thought you were married,” You remind him.

He rolls his eyes, visibly buzzed and red. “You still could’ve asked me.”

“Trusting men isn’t really my best strong suit.”

He chuckles, nodding, “Fair enough.” He bravely scoots closer, smelling dangerously of his spiced cologne and bitter fruit. “So, what’s your opinion of me now?”

You muse back at him, rubbing your eyes over his body. “Closer to how I originally thought of you. Handsome, sexy, kind of perfect.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Oh, I am far from perfect.”

“Of course you are, but you’re good at pretending that you are anything but. Like you really are perfect.” Your hand trails over the rise of his chest, briefly catching the acceleration of his heart. His eyes drift off to your fingertips. His hand hovers over them until he claims the back of your hand. You take apart a button on his top teasingly, feeling his grip wrap tighter. “At least you look perfect.”

His fingers through your hair, brushing over your skin delicately before in a husk voice says, “…You make it really hard to not kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?”

The moment he hears those words, his lips crash into yours, pulling you by the small of your back and pressing against you. His lips are sweeter than you remember, more desperate than the first time, and his cock—pressing into your crotch when he thrusts you into his lap—feels bigger, harder than what you imagined. You bite back your moans, familiar with your setting, and Wonwoo senses it, pulling away. “W-we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re right,” You sigh, slightly disappointed, “We just reacquainted ourselves, it’d be wrong given our circumst—“

“I mean, we shouldn’t do it here.” Grinning back at you, he reaches out for his phone on the coffee table, reminding you of the mobile baby monitor app he has on his phone.

“Let’s take this to your place.”

#IT'S BACKKKK #and ofc you're also back w another cliffhanger 😔#nana you're fucking evil !!!!!!#mc is really fucked up if i haven't alr mentioned that #but that's the charm of it #first she calls jeonghan and then soonie and now she's ab to fuck wonwoo #unless you pull an oopsie and they end up not fucking at all in chapter 6 #im ok. im fine.#(i am a mess of feelings and the fact tht i just woke up isnt helping)#you just have such a way with guiding people into the story and making sure theyre hella immersed #100/10 <3 #📁 kai's fic recs #🌟 kai's favs!#recs: seventeen 💎#recs: soonyoung 🐯#💘 nana

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junplusone · 1 month ago

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i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan

summary: you always used to think that even the end of the world couldn’t keep you and yoon jeonghan apart; you’d find your way back to each other somehow. ten years later, you start to wonder if that’s such a good thing after all.

contains: childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning

word count: 12.98k

a/n: this is lowkey a mess and probably kind of inaccurate loll but i hope u enjoy! feedback always appreciated xx

the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow

“What about you, Y/N? Have you ever been in love?”

Hearing your own name slowly zones you back into the conversation at the table. You pause at the question, a drop of soju splashing out of the glass in your hand.

“What?”

“Come on, it’s just a silly question,” the young intern says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no fun, Y/N. We’re off work right now! It’s fine,” he drawls, swaying a little in his chair.

You can’t really remember his name right now, downing the glass in one go, but his bold innocence bothers you. Maybe his demeanor, full of life and promise, is what gets on your nerves.

Were you like that when you were fresh out of college, too? It’s so unthinkable to you now, at twenty-nine. It feels like ages in the past.

“So? Are you —”

“I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation,” you say quietly, zipping your bag shut. “I think I’m going to head out, anyways. It’s quite late already.”

“But —”

“Chan, just stop asking questions and drink this, okay?” His friends try and calm him down with a glass of water. Amidst the chatter, you decide to slip away, silently pushing in your chair and leaving the bustling restaurant.

Dinners like this always end up making you feel worse, anyways, like an outlier at a table of people with fervent hopes and dreams of their own.

You make it two blocks until your phone begins to buzz in your pocket, and you fumble to answer it, knowing there’s only one person who would call you at nine o’clock on a Friday night.

“Hello?”

“Oh, you answered,” Yeonju says, evidently surprised. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

“I’m on my way home now,” you tell her. “Why, did something happen?”

“Kind of,” you hear rustling on her end of the line. “Jeonghan called.”

“Huh?”

You had stopped abruptly at Yeonju’s words— foolishly in the middle of the road, and you rush to the sidewalk, still reeling. It’s been so long since you’ve even heard his name that it sends your mind into a tailspin when she says it again.

“I thought you knew,” she says, “He said he tried calling you first, but you wouldn’t pick up.”

“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved,” you remind her. You haven’t had Jeonghan’s number saved on your phone in a long time. There was no need to keep it if you never used it anymore.

“I think you should talk to him.”

“Yeonju,” you shake your head. “Why would I? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There is, and you know it, too,” she doubles down. “You won’t say it, but I know you agree with me.”

She’s right, as much as you want to pretend otherwise. When has Choi Yeonju ever been wrong about you? Sometimes it scares you how good she is at reading your mind, but as always, she delivers reality checks right when she feels like you need them.

“Maybe,” you admit begrudgingly. “But things are just easier without him.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy,” she points out, “but take your own time, no rush. And take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I will,” you say with a faint smile.

“OK, perfect. Call if you need anything else, yeah? I gotta go now.”

“Okay, Yeonju, take care.”

“Bye!”

She hangs up just as you unlock your front door, shutting it behind you and kicking off your shoes. The peace and quiet of your apartment welcomes you, and you sigh in relief as you sink into your couch.

Pulling out your phone again, you scroll through your call log. There are a few unsaved numbers, likely just spam calls, but when you see the same number four times in a row, there’s no doubt about who it might have been. Your finger hovers over the screen; should you? Shouldn’t you?

No, it’s easier to just stay angry. It’s easier to pretend his name means nothing to you anymore.

But even as you toss your phone to the side, Chan’s question still haunts you, like it’s a reminder that maybe you need to retrace your steps and do something different this time.

God, you had finally been able to go a few days without thinking about him, but today just took you right back to square one.

“Have you ever been in love?”

When you close your eyes, all you see is him.

first time feeling my heart race, never thought it'd beat so fast

TEN YEARS AGO

“Yoon Jeonghan, delete that right now or I’m going to kill you.”

Jeonghan shakes his head vehemently, still cackling at the picture of you on his phone. This is nothing new to you; over the years you’ve gotten used to him finding the absolute worst angles of you whenever you fall asleep in class, or on the bus, and it never fails to get you fuming.

In fact, if Jeonghan has one talent, it’s probably pissing you off.

“Not my fault you dozed off like that during lecture! Even Yeonju would have bullied you if she was there,” he teases. “I’ve been collecting bad Y/N photos since we were sixteen and in high school, why would I stop now?”

“You’re evil.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Dinner’s on you, by the way.”

“What?!”

“Do you want to keep that horrendous picture or not?”

“Okay, fine,” he concedes immediately, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But we’re going back to my dorm first because I left my wallet on my desk.”

"Why would you not have that with you? Dumbass," you scold.

To anyone else, you might sound angry, but somewhere in the unspoken words, you and Jeonghan have already reconciled.

The weather is chilly and perfectly November-esque, and if not for the thick scarf around your neck you’d be shivering by now. Having Jeonghan by your side adds to the warmth spreading throughout your body, a little piece of happiness found in his company.

You’ve never needed to explain yourself to him. Somehow, whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on, he just knows, and it’s perfect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Not much to your surprise, Jeonghan’s roommate is there when the two of you walk in, blankets piled over him as he hunches over his laptop.

“Hey, Josh,” you greet him. “Everything okay?”

“No,” he frowns, rubbing his eyes, “I may have procrastinated a little too hard on this paper and now it’s due in a couple of hours and I’m totally fucked.”

“This is why I told you to drop that philosophy class at the beginning of the semester,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his wallet. “You don’t even need to take it.”

“Just trying to knock off my humanities electives, but honestly, this one kind of backfired on me,” Joshua admits, defeated. “Where are you guys headed?”

Jeonghan points at you accusingly. “This one tricked me into buying her dinner earlier.”

“I did not!” you gasp. “You walked into that one, stop blaming me for the consequences of your actions! Also, I want ramen, which means we’re going off campus, so you’re driving.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he reaches for his car keys. “You are so evil.”

"Takes one to know one, Hannie."

What throws you off is the way Joshua’s eyes flit between the both of you as you bicker, the way he tells you to have fun in that singsong voice of his as you step back out into the cold, like he knows something you don’t.

You still remember the day you first met him, when Jeonghan left to go grab something after introducing the two of you, and the question that immediately followed.

“Are you guys together or something?”

And of course, Joshua meant no harm — nobody ever does, when they ask something like that. You and Jeonghan have been fielding questions like that since the start of your friendship. Everyone’s wanted to know exactly what it is that you are to each other, and the answer has always come without missing a beat.

Friends, you’ve always said.

Friends in the way that you can’t go anywhere alone in your hometown without being asked where the other one is, the way that your parents always set out an extra plate and ask if he’s joining for dinner as usual.

The right word for it would be ‘inseparable’. Sometimes, though, you wonder if that’s all that it is.

Like now, as you notice the cold has Jeonghan trembling next to you. His teeth are chattering, long lashes framing his eyes that are now narrowed in displeasure.

When you unravel your scarf from around your neck and reach to drape it around his, they go wide in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“You never wear enough layers, idiot.” You tuck the ends into his jacket and the way he’s staring at you steals the breath out of your lungs.

You can’t run from the fact; your best friend is undeniably attractive. It’s a simple truth, down to his soft but sharp features, the slope of his cheeks, and the hair that frames his face so perfectly. It’s dark out, but Jeonghan’s eyes are lit up like stars. You don’t even realize it until you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” he says with a faint smile. “What would I do without you?”

“Freeze, probably,” you reply flippantly, but you look away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze on you.

Just think about the way he looks at you, Y/N.

Was Yeonju right? You have no way of knowing, and you don’t want to tip the scales by bringing any of it up now.

“Alright, let’s go,” you say instead, tugging him along to the parking lot. “It’s late, I’m hungry, and you promised.”

“Why do you always seem so excited to drain my bank account?”

“It’s my favorite hobby,” you quip. “Shall we go?”

“We shall, m’lady,” he says as you get to his car, pulling open the door for you with a wink. Your cheeks burn as you get in, his defined features etched into your brain.

Yes, he’s your dearest, oldest friend, but Yoon Jeonghan has a certain way of making your head spin that throws that very title into question.

when half of me is gone, how can i live as one?

PRESENT DAY

It’s been exactly three days since Jeonghan called you, and you haven’t heard from him since then. You don’t know what you were expecting. Another call? A text?

No, it would be quite stupid to hope for such things after everything that’s happened.

It’s a quiet Monday night, and your brain decides to take an involuntary trip down memory lane. Ten years ago today, you’d probably be doing homework frantically, most definitely an assignment you’d put off until the night of. Ten years ago today, Jeonghan would be by your side.

Oh, how some things change over time.

After another hour of mindless TV and doing whatnot on your phone, your conscience finally wins the moral battle against your pride, and you scroll down through your call log again. Taking a deep breath, you decide to call him back before your brain can convince you otherwise.

All the words evaporate out of your mouth when he picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?”

God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. Just the sound of your name from him is enough to make you tear up.

“... Jeonghan?”

Silence. After a few seconds your heart sinks, thinking maybe he’s hung up on you and gone radio silent yet again.

Then you hear it, just barely whispered into the phone: “I’ve missed you.”

Those words tug at your heart so badly you press your eyes closed to prevent your tears from welling up. “Jeonghan, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I haven’t heard from you in over a year,” you cut him off. “A year, Jeonghan. Do you really think you can just ‘I miss you’ your way back into my life whenever you want?”

“Don’t say that,” he implores. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I mean it.”

“I’ve heard the exact same line from you so many times,” you tell him, the rest of your words dying in your throat.

You have many more things to say to him, so many unspoken feelings, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Instead, you swallow your anger like you’ve done every time he finds his way back into your life.

“How… how have you been?”

“I’m okay. I wrote a new song,” he says lightly. “Shows have been pretty alright, things are looking up… just the usual.”

“Oh, I see.”

“What about you?”

“I’m okay, too.” A blatant lie. “Jeonghan… why’d you call me on Friday?”

“Oh,” he starts, like he’s surprised you even asked. “Um, I’m actually in town for a bit, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up again. Y’know, like old times.”

It’s the flippant edge in his voice that stings more than anything else, as if he doesn’t care that your friendship hasn’t been the same for years. Do you mean that little to him now?

But, like always, you have a hard time saying no to Yoon Jeonghan.

“Okay,” you agree. “Just tell me where, I guess. And when.”

“Okay.”

It’s not for a few seconds that you realize your cheeks are wet. Jeonghan feels so far away now, the distance hurts like a piercing pain and you have to slap a hand over your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sob against your couch, the stoic wall you put up crumbling away with every passing moment.

“Y/N,” his voice is shaky now. “Y/N, please don’t cry.”

Feeling caught and cornered, your brain enters fight or flight mode, and promptly chooses the latter. “I’m not,” you blurt out, and immediately end the call, tossing your phone across the room so you aren’t tempted to call him again.

If time traveling was an option, you’d go back to a decade in the past without a question. For some reason it hurts more that after all this time, Yoon Jeonghan is still the one that knows you the best.

You wake up the next morning horribly late for work, with a blinding headache and a notification from Jeonghan on your phone.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: is tonight @ semicolon cafe ok with you? after you get off work?

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i won’t take up too much of ur time, i promise

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m so sorry y/n

you: its ok. that works, see u then

It’s well past nine o’clock when you finally enter the office. You almost make it to your desk unnoticed until your boss glances at you sneaking in.

“You’re very late,” Seungcheol observes, leaning back in his chair. His gaze is always stern, and today it makes you even more anxious than usual.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “Things just… everything kind of worked against me today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I believe you,” he says, casting another concerned look at you as you nearly drop your laptop going to your desk. “Is everything okay, Y/N? This really isn’t like you.”

“Yeah,” you lie through a tight smile. Damn Yoon Jeonghan and his stupid face for ruining your whole day. “Everything’s fine.”

Looking back, it’s quite impressive how you manage to keep your composure throughout your whole workday. You know you’ve accomplished a feat when even Junhui doesn’t really notice anything’s wrong.

Despite how oblivious he comes across at first, your colleague is easily one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met, as you’ve learned in the past five years you’ve spent at this company.

“Long day?” Junhui swivels around in his chair as he catches you taking a break from your screen.

“Yeah,” you admit, glancing at the clock. Almost five. “Even longer when we get asked to fix all of the intern’s mistakes. How do you just forget to write a whole method?!”

“God, I hope Lee Chan never gets hired as a backend developer. Love the kid, but I’m not sure how he got through college with his code looking like this.”

“Hard agree.”

“Hey, do you have plans after? Me and the rest of the team are probably gonna get dinner together. None of the interns,” he clarifies with a grin. “We need some peace and quiet. I think Wonwoo’s genuinely at his final straw, he’s been downstairs with them all day.”

As tempting as that sounds — Junhui has a knack for finding the best spots in Seoul — you have something more important on your plate for the day.

“Maybe next time,” you decline. “I have to meet someone after work.”

“Oh?” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Someone special?”

“It’s not a date,” you insist, face heating up.

“I never asked if it was, Y/N, you’re just outing yourself at this point.”

“It’s not!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, turning back around. “Keep me posted!”

You roll your eyes.

The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower. Usually, you’d get so engrossed in whatever you were working on that you’d end up staying late, but today you shock everyone by packing up when the clock hits five, bidding Junhui a good night as you almost run to leave the building.

(“Someone’s in a rush,” he remarks when you turn your computer off. “Don’t be late on a first date, it’s not very polite!”

“Fuck off,” you respond, when Seungcheol is safely out of earshot.)

The walk home almost freezes your fingertips, and you have to shove your hands deep into your pockets to keep them from going numb. You make a note to dress accordingly for the biting cold later.

At least the weather matches your mood today.

The idea of a hot shower turns out to be a little too inviting, though, because when you finally step out, hair wrapped in a towel, it’s 6:28, and you have a text from Jeonghan waiting to be opened.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m here, i snagged a table in the back

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, pulling on an old sweater and some jeans. You don’t have time to fully dry your hair, so you just run your round brush through it a couple of times, hope for the best, and throw it into a claw clip, praying it stays up.

You’re officially twenty minutes late when you finally get to the cafe — it’s not too far from your apartment, thankfully, but you still had to book it — and you approach Jeonghan slightly panting and out of breath.

(If Junhui was right and this was actually a date, you would be royally screwed.)

“Here, sit,” he pulls out your chair, a little alarmed by your flushed face. “Were you running?”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m late,” you answer, and then you look up at him and the air is knocked out of your lungs as if you weren’t already winded from getting there. He’s even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. “Wow, you…”

“I?”

You’re not even sure what the rest of that sentence was going to be, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. Snap out of it.

“Nothing,” you say quietly.

“How have you been?”

“You already asked me that.”

“I want to know more.” He’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize your features; it’s hard to ignore.

“I don’t have anything interesting going on,” you deflect. “Tell me about what’s going on with you. You said you wrote a new song?”

Jeonghan’s face lights up when you say it. “I did. I spent around nine months rewriting and perfecting it. It’s kind of like my child, in a way.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”

He laughs, and it feels like a part of your old selves is back. “Want to listen?”

You nod, and he passes you an AirPod and his phone. “Imperfect Love,” you read out loud. “That’s deep.”

“It came from a pretty raw place,” he confesses. “Something that’s kind of been on my mind for a while.”

“Something or someone?”

Jeonghan’s face reflects something akin to panic. “What are you talking about?”

“This seems like a song about unrequited love,” you deadpan. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Well, it’s not,” he huffs. “Don’t assume things.”

“This is the kind of update I was waiting for. You didn’t tell me you’d found someone!”

“I didn’t!” he insists, concealing a smile. “Will you just stop asking questions and listen already?”

“Alright, Mr. Unlucky in Love,” you tease, securing the AirPod in your ear and pressing play.

The instrumentals are beautiful, and Jeonghan’s angelic voice fills your ears a few seconds later. You haven’t heard him sing in a long time, and you’d forgotten just how ethereal he sounds when he’s pouring his heart into the mic.

The sunlight that happily illuminates this dark world

Becomes a star when night comes

Come down to me

There are many, many things shining in this world

But among them, you’re the only one that’s precious to me

Jeonghan is watching you nervously, like he’s anxious for what you will say. You make the mistake of catching his eyes, because immediately you falter — they are gorgeous, he is gorgeous, and it feels like you lose time with every second you spend admiring him.

Even if I can’t be the perfect weather for you

Will you still love me like this?

It feels like a silent plea — you wonder what kinds of things have happened to him in the past year that you missed, all the things you don’t know about.

Together we become old and worn out

Even if you come to me, who’s useless

At the end of a shining day

I’m happy that it’s you every day

The song comes to an end, and you hand Jeonghan’s phone back to him. His eyebrows raise, like a question.

“Did you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him honestly. “I love it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m still convinced you have a secret crush that you’re not telling me about.”

“Oh, not with that again,” he grumbles, waving off your curious questions.

What you don’t tell him is that you’ve missed hearing him sing and watching him perform, that the look in his eyes when he’s doing what he loves most is something you adore. There are a lot of things like that you want to say to him, and as good as the both of you are at acting like nothing’s wrong, the situation feels awfully different this time.

“Hey.” Jeonghan has a glint in his eye, the one he usually has when he’s up to something. “Do you wanna leave and go get tteokbokki and fried dumplings at the night market stands instead?”

Your favorites, from when you were a broke college student and couldn’t afford anything nicer. How did he still remember that?

“Yeah,” you say, already grabbing your things and standing. “Let’s go.”

You had forgotten that it was cold as fuck outside.

You had also forgotten that the food stalls were in the opposite direction of your house, so now you’re stuck walking twice the distance in the freezing weather.

“Are you warm enough?” Jeonghan asks, a bit worried. Stop looking out for me, you want to scream at him. Stop caring. Stop making such a fool out of me.

“I am, but I know you’re not,” you scold instead. “I’ve been telling you for years to dress for the weather.”

“Eh, what’s a little bit of cold?” he jokes, but you catch him shivering violently out of the corner of your eye, and you can’t just watch as he suffers.

“Here.” You pull your scarf off of your neck and hold it out to him. “Wear it.”

“Are you su—”

“Wear it before I take it back.”

You wait until Jeonghan’s listened to you, the warm fabric wrapped around his neck. A part of you thinks you’ll always feel the urge to look after him.

Stop it.

“You still haven’t told me about yourself,” Jeonghan starts hesitantly. “I know I’ve probably missed a lot of things in the past few years.”

“Eight years,” you correct him. “We graduated and then you disappeared.”

“I didn’t disappear, things just got really hectic,” he tries to explain. “Like, all of a sudden everything was on my shoulders, and I had to spend all my time working towards what I wanted. That or it was all just gonna go to waste.”

“Right,” you leave it at that, not wanting to start an argument on the road. This always happens — you’ll run into Jeonghan somehow, you’ll somewhat reconcile, fight, make up, and then it’s radio silence from him again. A year after you graduated college, you stopped looking for news articles on him entirely, actively avoiding any headlines with his name in them. It hurt a little too much to bear. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You suck in a breath at the quick response.

“Yeonju’s doing well,” you start, even though he probably knows that already. “She has a cat now, actually. She adopted him a couple of months ago.”

“Really? What’s his name?”

“Mandu, because she says he’s round and fat like a dumpling.”

Jeonghan snorts. “That’s like when Josh told us his dog’s name was Bingsu.”

“Oh, I remember that,” you say, faintly reminded of his college roommate. “Um, there’s not much else, honestly. Junhui is still a major pain in my ass, that definitely hasn’t changed.”

“Your work friend, right? I thought you two got along pretty well?”

“Yeah, we do,” you admit. You don’t need to explain any further, because Jeonghan knows that your sarcastic remarks are reserved for those you cherish the most.

“It’s been a really long time since you introduced us,” he muses. “But I still remember him pretty clearly.”

He remembers you, too, you think to yourself, recounting all the times you’ve ranted to Junhui about all the times Jeonghan got on your very last nerve. Just not as fondly.

“Oh! Wonwoo actually joined the same company two years ago. I think I told you this already,” Jeonghan confirms with a nod, “But it’s really nice getting to see him again, I missed when we used to hang out in college.”

“Aw, that must be really nice.”

“And the three of us still work for Seungcheol,” you conclude.

“I remember him, too. The one with the huge ass biceps,” Jeonghan says, a bit miffed. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”

“He doesn’t like randoms coming in during work hours, which is what you did, Han.”

“Oh. Right.”

Despite his short response, you know Jeonghan is smiling to himself right now, and you kick yourself mentally for letting the decades-old nickname slip. The two of you may be on a truce right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven him.

A few minutes later, the lanterns and lights of the night market come into view. A little piece of childhood memory burrows its way into your heart. The vendors and stalls may have changed, but you used to love visiting this street with Jeonghan when you were still students.

“I really feel so old right now,” Jeonghan remarks as he follows you through the narrow walkways. “I feel like the last time I’ve been here was when we were eighteen.”

“It probably was,” you say. “Oh! Tteokbokki!”

You don’t even realize the way you’re holding on to the sleeve of Jeonghan’s sweater as you pull him along with you in excitement. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles to himself as he walks behind you.

“Two cups, please,” you request the vendor when you finally get to the cart, and reach for your wallet. Jeonghan stops you before you can get to your pocket.

“No way,” he says firmly. “This one’s on me.”

“Jeonghan.”

“That voice isn’t working on me this time.” He hands the vendor a couple of bills with a friendly smile. “Just let me buy dinner tonight.”

You cross your arms. “No.”

“Why not? You had no problem doing it back in college.”

“Don’t bring that up now,” you say sharply, stung by the familiar memory. Jeonghan senses the shift in your attitude and drops the subject immediately.

“Wait here,” he tells you. “I’ll be back in a second.”

What are you supposed to do with yourself? Oh, you’re a mess, you realize, the way your feelings haven’t been in check for the entire evening. You were supposed to be so calm and collected, and now you’re anything but.

“Here you go,” the vendor hands you two steaming cups of the spicy rice cakes. “One for you, one for your friend.”

“Thank you.”

The man nods towards Jeonghan, making his way back through the sea of people. “Never let go of someone who cherishes you that much,” he says offhandedly, stirring the tteok in the pot.

You just blink, confused. “What?”

Before the vendor can answer, Jeonghan’s already caught up to you again. “There was nobody in line for fried dumplings,” he tells you excitedly. “Here, have some.”

“Thanks,” you say as you exchange with him for the tteokbokki, ignoring the awkward encounter you’ve just had. “We should probably get out of the way and find somewhere to sit down.”

“Yeah, we should.”

There are a few benches at the corner of the street, and you pick the empty one under one of the streetlamps, a hazy yellow glow cast over it. Sitting down, you bite into the first dumpling, the flavor flooding into your mouth.

“Jeonghan.”

“Yes?”

“Is this shrimp?”

“Yes?” He looks adorably confused in the dim light. “You prefer seafood over pork, right?”

Your heart feels like it’s beating at double the pace. “I do,” you reassure him. “It’s really good. Thank you.”

“Try the tteokbokki, too, it’s just the right level of spicy.”

“I will.”

Just being there and enjoying the food in silence reminds you of how easy it is to just be around Jeonghan. There’s no pressure to break the quiet; it’s comforting and peaceful.

You watch him savor the tteokbokki sauce and smile to yourself when he winces slightly. He’s always had less of a spice tolerance than you.

“Jeonghan?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to vanish on me again when you leave Seoul?”

The question stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t seem to have the words to answer, and the lack of a response makes your heart sink.

“Why are you thinking about that right now?” he says instead, chiding you gently. “Did you finish eating?”

The way you’re looking at him now, your eyes are imploring him. Please don’t make me empty promises again.

“It’s rude to answer a question with another question.”

Jeonghan rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve never vanished, Y/N, it’s just hard for me to leave my work that often,” he insists, “and besides, you’ve got Junhui and Yeonju and Wonwoo to entertain you in the meantime —”

“None of them are you!” Several people passing by glance over at you, but you can’t help that your voice is rising when you feel the anger bubbling up. “You’re my best friend, Jeonghan, do you have any idea how hard it’s been doing life without you?”

“Y/N, we’re past our youth,” he tries reasoning with you. “We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.”

Every word he says is like a knife to your chest. “You shouldn’t have asked to meet up today, then.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jeonghan shuts his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just can’t be there for you all the time in the way that you want anymore. You’re stable, you have a solid job, but my livelihood depends on my music and whether people like me or not. That’s the harsh truth of it. And I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“I’m not asking you to be there for me all the time,” you snap. “All I ever wanted was the occasional message. A few updates. Whether you’re doing okay, how your life is going, things like that. Don’t give me bullshit excuses. I know you have thirty seconds to text me back letting me know that you’re alive.”

And stop playing with my heart, you want to add. Whether you’re aware of it or not.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan swears under his breath. “Y/N, let’s calm down and talk about this inside —”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Yoon Jeonghan.” Your fists are clenched right now. Jeonghan knows this about you; you don’t get angry quite often, but when you do, you are a force to be reckoned with. “It’s always a goddamn cycle with you. You show up, make all these promises, and then abandon me again. What am I supposed to do with that?”

You’re on the verge of tears, but you can’t cry in front of him. Anywhere but here.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he pleads with you. “I don’t know what more to say other than I’ve been trying my best, I really have been.”

You’re not having any of it. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, averting your eyes so you have time to blink the tears away.

“I mean it. I want to be there for you, but…” he trails off, voice shaky. “It’s just been so difficult.”

“Save it, Jeonghan.” You don’t think you can be here for a minute longer without totally breaking down. “I should really get going now.”

“Y/N, wait —”

“If you took the subway, there’s a station down that street if you keep walking for a few minutes.”

“Wait,” Jeonghan insists, standing. “Let me at least walk you home.”

“No need,” you retort, turning around and setting off towards your apartment. It’s even colder now that it’s completely dark out, and you start to regret your choice of coat as your teeth chatter quietly. All you can do is thug it out for the remaining three blocks to your apartment building.

The wind stings your eyes and you tear up anyway, despite your attempts to keep it down for now. Why did you think today was going to go any better than every other time this has happened?

Stupid. Your fault for thinking anything would have changed in eight years.

It’s not until you approach the entrance to your building that you hear the quiet shuffling of footsteps. You whirl around, ready to fight, but you stop short when you see Jeonghan standing several feet behind you.

“Just to make sure you got back okay,” he says quietly, walking over to you. You accept gingerly when he places your scarf back in your hands. “It’s late.”

You don’t even know how to feel; you’re too high-strung with too many lines of thought in your brain at the same time. “Thank you.”

“One more thing.” Jeonghan hands you a small plastic bag. You peer inside.

“What is this?”

“Tiramisu,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Oh,” you’re confused. “Why?”

It should make you even more furious that he has the audacity to give you a soft smile, but for some reason it doesn’t.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

The realization hits you belatedly — how did you manage to forget? — that you were so swamped with work commitments, it had totally slipped your mind today. (So that was why your phone had been constantly buzzing with notifications from Yeonju before you’d put it on silent.)

Jeonghan’s gesture, though, comes as a complete surprise, and it starts to dissipate the irritation from earlier.

“You remembered.”

“Of course,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I never forgot.”

just friends, that's not enough for me

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Normally, you are not someone who is criminally inclined.

However, it’s currently five in the morning on a day where you don’t have class until noon, so whoever is calling you at this time is most definitely going to end up six feet under.

You answer without checking who it is first, eyes still closed. “Hello?”

“Happy birthday!”

“Huh?” You lift your head just to be sure you heard correctly. “Yoon Jeonghan, it’s five a.m!”

“I know!”

“Why are you awake?”

“To tell you happy birthday?”

“Thank you, but cut the crap,” you tell him.

“I pulled an all-nighter to finish a project,” he admits. “Worth it, though. I’m the first person who told you, right?”

“You keep forgetting I live with Yeonju,” you point out, glancing over at your sleeping roommate.

“Damn it, Choi Yeonju!”

You grimace at his loud exclamation. “Jeonghan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and let me go back to sleep.”

“Okay, but I’m waking you up at ten so you don’t skip your linear algebra class.”

“That class is at noon!”

“Yeah, and you take centuries to get ready, dumbass.”

When ten o’clock does roll around, you’re wide awake already. Yeonju is still fast asleep, so you try to get ready for class as quietly as possible.

jeonghan: i’m outside ur building

jeonghan: hurry up i’m hungry

you: ??? when u said u were gonna wake me up i thought u meant u would call

jeonghan: uhh surprise?

“Are you serious,” you mutter under your breath, haphazardly throwing an outfit on and rushing downstairs. Quickly, you press your key card against the reader and push the door open to the sight of Jeonghan leaning against the side wall.

“How long were you waiting?”

“Long enough. God, you really take forever, but I guess you get a pass because it’s your birthday,” he says begrudgingly, gesturing for you to walk with him.

The weather is quite bleak, but the slight smile on Jeonghan’s face is enough to chase the dreary atmosphere away, like your very own sun.

“Did you sleep at all?” you question, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I tried, but by the time I finished the project it was already seven and Joshua was up, so I just didn’t bother. That guy’s a freak, I’m telling you. I don’t know anybody else who wakes up that early just to go to the gym.”

“Well, you don’t go at all. Maybe that’s why he has those nice muscles and you don’t.”

Jeonghan’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you kidding? Is this why you keep coming over? To ogle Joshua Hong’s arms?”

“Yeah, cause Joshua Hong is my best friend,” you deadpan. “Is it such a crime to just appreciate a nice set of muscles?”

“Okay, okay, stop talking about Josh when you’re with me and get in the car,” he urges, fishing out his keys. “Or we’ll be late and you won’t make it to that class.”

“I don’t even go half the time,” you point out. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“What I can do is promise you will be happy and fed by approximately half past eleven.” Jeonghan starts the car, adjusting his mirrors. “Is that good enough for you?”

“Deal.”

It strikes you then, beneath the dim sunshine, how good he looks when he’s driving. His eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on the road, humming along to the song playing through Bluetooth. For all the jokes you throw at him for never being seen at the gym, his arms are quite toned, subtly flexed as he makes a turn with one hand on the wheel.

God, you are so done for.

A few minutes later, Jeonghan pulls into a relatively empty lot. The building is quite unassuming, but you recognize this cafe as the one you frequent during exam season for your coffee fix.

“I love this place!” you exclaim, beaming at him. “How did you know?”

“‘Cause you never shut up about it,” he quips back, grinning.. “Stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”

You hum quietly to yourself as you wait for him to come back, content where you are. There couldn’t have been a better start to your day, aside from Jeonghan’s early morning call, and you think you’d be happy to spend the day just like this, peacefully with him and your closest friends.

In truth, you aren’t really sure how to navigate things with Jeonghan at the moment. Your relationship has always been labeled as strictly platonic, but lately there have been things that make you want to think otherwise. A few stolen glances, the way he looks out for you a little extra… you think you’re going insane.

That, and the way your heart has been reacting when you make eye contact with him lately has been a bit unsettling.

(“Don’t be so delusional,” Yeonju had told you a week ago. “You have a lot to lose here if anything happens. Plus, it’s Yoon Jeonghan, everyone thinks he’s flirting with them.”

“Yeah,” you’d replied flatly. “You’re right.”)

But maybe you’re allowed to be a little selfish. Maybe those sunlit smiles and most vulnerable moments are memories reserved just for you.

The car door opens again, and Jeonghan pokes his head in, handing you a plastic bag as he gets in.

“Sustenance,” is all he says. “Eat before you go to class or I’ll have to deal with your hangry whining after.”

His words sound annoyed, but his tone is soft with you, like it usually is. You flash him a grateful smile before pulling the boxes out.

“What’s this?”

“Avocado toast, but yours has egg on it.” He wrinkles his nose with displeasure at the combination. “Plus a little sweet treat for your caffeine addiction.”

“This is beautiful,” you hold up the tiramisu box. “The caffeine is speaking to me, Hannie. We are one and the same.”

“One would think you’re on drugs.”

“One would think living with a chemistry major would teach you that caffeine is a drug,” you tease, sinking your teeth into the golden toast. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now — maybe you shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night. “Wow, this is good.”

“It is,” Jeonghan agrees, “but I’ll stick with no eggs for now.”

“You’re just ignorant and have bad taste.”

“Again, free pass only because it’s your birthday.” Jeonghan waits for you to swallow, then asks, “So, does twenty-one feel any different?”

“Nope,” you say decidedly. “Why would it? The only thing that’s changed is that drinking is legal now.”

“Oh, and you can gamble.”

“Right, but I don’t have enough savings to do that.”

Jeonghan laughs to himself at a stray memory. “Remember when I turned twenty-one? I’ve never had a night more disastrous than that one.”

“I do remember! Anyone would assume you were a raging alcoholic,” you snicker. “Even Soonyoung felt the need to sober up and help me get you back to your place. Do you know how impossible that is for him?”

Jeonghan looks like he’s questioning his whole life. “Yeah, that is pretty bad,” he admits. “Good thing it hasn’t happened since and I’m a responsible alcohol enjoyer now.”

“You drank a whole bottle of soju before your exam last week because you ‘needed to pregame’ or you’d fail it.”

“... Right.”

The two of you eat in silence, careful not to drop crumbs in his car, enjoying the midday quiet with each other’s company and nothing else. It’s moments like these with him that you cherish the most.

Yeonju’s Don’t be so delusional echoes in your head, like a silent rebuke.

“Hey, we should start heading back,” Jeonghan says, glancing at the time. “Let this be the day that Y/N graces the lecture hall with her presence.”

You groan, not wanting to spend another hour and a half trying not to doze off listening to who is possibly the most boring professor at your entire university. Jeonghan pats your back empathetically.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you, “Just think about how you’ll feel later when it’s all over and done with.”

“I’ll feel like it was a huge waste of time and I could have just asked Wonwoo to catch me up,” you grumble.

Jeonghan’s smile falters a little bit at the mention of your classmate, one of Soonyoung’s friends and therefore a part of the friend group. You still can’t figure out why Jeonghan isn’t too fond of him, but you just assume they haven’t had the opportunity to connect as much and brush it off.

“He got me through data structures last semester,” you offer, trying to defend your point. “Or I’d probably have failed.”

“Right, I remember,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. You don’t say anything more until you’re back on campus again, picking up on his sensitive mood. When you start making your way to your lecture hall, he follows you, and you let him.

“I’ll walk you to class, I have to print something out at the student center, anyways,” he explains, bag on one shoulder. “Also, you left this in the car. Eat it after class, or whenever.”

You take the plastic bag he hands you, the faint scent of coffee filling your nose. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan fills your ears with silly stories about his friends over the short walk and you listen carefully, always happy to hear about the boys. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them anyways; you’ve been swamped with work, and time that all of you have free together is quite rare.

“I should go in now,” you tell him when you reach the hall. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you might as well, and Jeonghan can easily read the annoyance written on your face. He pats your shoulder gently.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “Come over later so we can all eat cake and listen to you rant about your god-awful professor.”

“Okay.”

“And so you can get an eyeful of Joshua’s arms, you freaking pervert.”

You gasp. “Am not!” you screech, punching his arm.

“Ow!”

“Take it back!”

“Not afraid to speak my truth,” Jeonghan says instead, feigning injury. “This is literally abuse.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out.”

“Go in.”

“Fine,” you huff, pulling open the double doors, but you look back over your shoulder before you let them close behind you. “See you later?”

Jeonghan nods, a twinkle in his eye.

(You won’t know it now, but this is the look on his face that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.)

“See you later.”

Choi Yeonju is, you discover, the lightweight of all lightweights.

That title had belonged to Soonyoung up until now, but tonight even he’s watching her in disbelief from where he’s perched on Joshua and Jeonghan’s couch.

“I only gave her a shot,” he promises you, eyes big and pleading. “I swear on my life.”

“I know,” you sigh, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her away from the wall she’s about to faceplant into. “It’s okay, I’ve got an eye on her.”

“Sorry,” Soonyoung offers sheepishly. “I know you were planning on getting wasted tonight.”

You were not, in fact, planning on that at all. “Who told you that?”

“Jeonghan?”

“That evil bastard.”

The evil bastard in question is currently deeply immersed in a card game with a couple of others at the small kitchen table. The subtle flush on his face tells you he’s a couple of drinks in, and if you squint enough, you can see the silhouette of cards hidden in the sleeve of his jacket. Typical.

“Y/N!” Yeonju taps your shoulder urgently. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

She grins. “I wanna go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, come on. You gotta stand up,” you inform her gently when she doesn’t budge from her spot on the sofa.

“Comfy,” is all she says, mumbling into the furniture.

“Do you still need to go to the bathroom?”

“No.”

Soonyoung just looks at you in total confusion and shrugs.

“Nothing to do about it until she asks again,” he says before sinking into the couch beside her. He still looks relatively sober — sober enough to handle the situation if Yeonju decides to walk into a wall again — so you tell him you’ll be right back and decide to check in on the game going on.

You walk in on a crime scene.

“You!” Seungkwan throws an accusing finger at Jeonghan, who you can tell is playing innocent through his surprised expression. “You rigged the game!”

“I didn’t do anything! I won fair and square!”

“Count the cards,” Seungkwan tells Wonwoo vengefully. “There won’t be fifty-two, I’m telling you!”

Jeonghan stands suddenly, laying his hand on the table. Everyone else is too busy yelling amongst themselves, and Wonwoo seems to be content with watching them argue, but you catch the way Jeonghan slips the cards in his sleeve into the pile unassumingly.

“Excuse me, boys,” he says smugly, “but I’m going to go on a little victory walk. Don’t mind me, enjoy!”

Seungkwan grumbles, but lets him go in favor of helping Seokmin back into the chair he’s just fallen off of. In the meantime, Jeonghan sidles up to you, faintly smelling of tequila.

“You seem very sober,” he observes.

“I am,” you laugh. “Not entirely, but sober enough to notice the cards you stashed during the game.”

Jeonghan’s face morphs into one of surprise, then mirth. “Shh,” he winks, placing a finger on your lips. That alone short-circuits your brain, so you nearly miss his next words. “It can be our little secret.”

“Oh, you are tipsy tipsy,” you murmur, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re up for that victory walk you were talking about.”

“I am! I’m so up for it,” he announces, tucking his arm in yours. “Let’s go take a walk outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“What’s four plus four?”

He rolls his eyes. “Ninety-two,” he says sarcastically. “Please, I’m not a lightweight like the rest of our friends.”

You cast a glance at the couch; Soonyoung has been roped into listening into whatever story Yeonju’s telling him very animatedly, sitting attentively with his back unnaturally straight. He looks a little scared of her energetic narration, which is a first for someone like him.

They should be fine, right? You don’t plan on being gone for long — usually you wouldn’t think twice about leaving Soonyoung and Yeonju together, but in their current state you’re not sure how chaotic they’ll get.

“They’ll be fine.” Jeonghan mirrors your thoughts as if he’s read your mind. His voice feels a little too close, like his lips are right by your ear. Too close, too close — you’re faintly aware of your breathing accelerating, heart running on sheer adrenaline.

By the time you snap out of it, he’s already at the door, turning to find you when he realizes you’re not next to him. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” is all you can manage before you grab your coat off the hook and follow him out the door. A part of you wishes Yeonju was sober so she could slap the delusion out of you.

Jeonghan opts for the stairs — “We’re only on the second floor!” — and is waiting patiently at the main door for you. The smile he greets you with is blinding, and his eyes crinkle a little more when you return it.

“Did you bring your keys?”

“Right here.” Jeonghan pats his pocket reassuringly and pulls the door open. “After you, m’lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you laugh, reveling in the moment.

It’s windy outside, and you glance over at Jeonghan, satisfied to see that he’s dressed warmly for once. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and for a man his size, his thick sweater is draped over his body in a way that makes him look a little smaller. It’s adorable, and it just makes you want to reach over and squish his cheeks.

“You’re awfully quiet for a man who just won a game against Boo Seungkwan,” you tease gently. Jeonghan chuckles, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

“Nothing new,” he says. “Seungkwan just has bad strategy and won’t admit it.”

“Or you just enjoy cheating a little too much.”

He gives you a knowing smile. “Touché.”

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going; you don’t think Jeonghan does, either, but the two of you fall in step together perfectly on the sidewalk. It’s not too late yet, maybe nine or ten, and the streets are relatively crowded, as expected for a college city.

“Do you think we’ll be really different when we’re thirty?”

You look at Jeonghan, a bit surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like, we’re twenty-one now,” he explains, “Remember when we were sixteen? We had so many ideas about what we were gonna be, and we’re already there. Five years passed so quickly.”

You nod, reminiscent of your childhood days. “We’re gonna hit thirty before we know it.”

“Do you think I’ll be bald by thirty?”

“If you are, I’ll take lots of pictures of you and your shiny head,” you joke. “For memories.”

“Noo, not my hair,” Jeonghan laments theatrically. “My gorgeous, gorgeous hair.”

You can’t even counter that, because it’s true: Jeonghan must have won the gene pool because his hair has always been soft and silky. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling a little bit just under his ears and brushing the back of his neck.

“Soonyoung’s been campaigning for you to go platinum blond,” you inform him. “He keeps saying if you do it, he’ll dye his whole head bright yellow.”

“Highlighter Soonyoung is really not something I want to see.”

The more the wind picks up, the tighter Jeonghan has his arm looped around yours. His lips are pursed, like he’s preoccupied with something else.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Are we still gonna be friends when we’re thirty years old?”

The subtle, vulnerable tone in his voice surprises you a little bit. Drunk words are sober thoughts, you suppose.

You try to cheer him up, saying, “Why, did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly. “Everything is so much easier with you.”

Don’t be delusional, don’t be delusional, is the mantra in your head as you attempt to ignore your rapid heartbeat. The truth is that you agree — the way Jeonghan just gets you makes things so uncomplicated and free.

It’s been this way since middle school, when twelve-year-old you found home in the boy who always helped you sneak snacks from your desk during class when the teacher wasn’t watching.

Jeonghan has always been the first person you think of in a sticky situation; he’s always been reliable, above all, because he knows you would do the same for him without even needing to think about it. He’s been by your side for so long, you can’t even picture what a life without him would look like now.

Your next words would never see the light of day had Jeonghan been sober, but you suppose you can get away with erring on the side of honesty.

“Me too,” you tell him quietly, holding onto him just a little bit tighter. “I like life a little better when it’s with you.”

because i love you, because saying i love you isn't enough

PRESENT DAY

The office is quiet when it’s late at night; there aren’t many people who enjoy staying past their stated hours, but you figure it can’t hurt to finish some additional tasks when you don’t really have much to go home to. You can’t remember the last time you had a day to yourself without worrying about deadlines; the lines of code haunt you in your sleep and fill every waking hour. Every night spent working overtime is a testament to your determination, though it crumbles it a little each time.

Today, though, you’re joined by Junhui and Wonwoo, the three of you working under the dim light. The rest of your team packed up and left hours ago, so it’s just you on this floor of the building.

“I feel like my eyes are melting in their sockets,” Junhui complains, stretching for the first time in what you think is a solid eight hours. “I don’t know how Wonwoo does it.”

“He’s a machine,” you joke. He’s got headphones on, most probably noise canceling, so you know he can’t hear you two. (Or he’s choosing not to.) “I just don’t want to go home with this stuff unfinished because I know I won’t stop thinking about it all night.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pulled an all-nighter in the office.”

“Unfortunately.”

Junhui frowns. “You need to take time for yourself,” he expresses. You let him lecture you, even though he’s younger. “Do stuff that you enjoy that doesn’t involve writing code. You know, enrich your personal life.”

“Maybe,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “There’s barely any time as of now.”

“Speaking of personal lives, I still can’t believe you won’t tell me about your date,” he sulks. “You’ve always come back with stories about your dates.”

“There haven’t even been that many,” you say at the same time Wonwoo turns around with his headphones off of one ear, asking, “Date? Really?”

You give the man a look. “You didn’t hear us say your name, but that was what caught your attention?”

“Well, Jun’s always talking, but the last time you went on a date was two years ago, so this is news to me.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Junhui reasons. “Everyone has bad dates. It’s a universal experience.”

“Okay, first of all, it was not a date,” you clarify. “I just met up with a friend from college.”

This piques Wonwoo’s interest. “Wait, really? Who?”

“Right, I keep forgetting you guys went to college together,” Junhui mutters under his breath.

“Did you see Yeonju again?”

“It was nobody,” you lie through your teeth, kicking yourself internally for your choice of words. As much as both men know about your ongoing tug-of-war situation with Jeonghan, you don’t really want to bring it up in conversation, and definitely not now of all times. “It went fine, just some catching up.”

“So it wasn’t a date?”

“You really need to stop believing everything Junhui tells you without fact checking it first.”

“Damn,” he says. “And we thought you were finally getting some action.”

“Wonwoo!”

The conversation is interrupted by the low rumble of your stomach in the few seconds of silence that pass afterwards. Both men turn to look at you expectantly.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”

“I’ll order takeout,” Wonwoo volunteers, already reaching for his phone. “Is kimchi fried rice okay with you guys?”

“Fine by me.”

“With pork?” Junhui asks hopefully.

“Done.”

The three of you promptly get back to work, aiming to maximize the amount of work you get done before the food arrives and you inevitably break focus. By the time the delivery notification goes off on Wonwoo’s phone, you’ve knocked off about three quarters of your to-do list for the day.

Good enough, you reassure yourself, pulling the sticky note off of your desk and flicking it into the trash can.

Junhui eats in a record time of ten minutes — you swear you’ve never seen him scarf down food this fast before — and starts packing up at his desk, dropping off a couple of notes on Seungcheol’s desk for tomorrow morning’s meeting.

“My girlfriend is going to be so upset if I’m not home soon,” he says ruefully, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Take care, guys! And thanks for dinner, Wonwoo, I owe you one.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You and Wonwoo finish not too long after, and you take your time cleaning up the place, making sure everything is thrown away and in its place.

“Are you ready to lock up and go?”

“Yeah, let’s head out.”

It’s not until you’re in the elevator, heading to the parking garage, that Wonwoo speaks up again. A little hesitantly at first, but the concern in his tone is still evident.

“Hey, has everything been good with you lately?”

“Hm?” You look at him curiously, wondering what it was that made him ask. “Yeah, why?”

He shrugs, looking down at you through thick-rimmed glasses. “Just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. Seungcheol’s needed me all over the place lately, so it’s been a while since I caught up with you guys.”

“Right, you’ve been in back to back meetings with the design team,” you muse. “Seolhwa was talking about how chaotic it’s been in the restroom earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough.”

The elevator opens with a ding! and you follow him out, fishing for your keys that are probably somewhere in one of your pockets.

“I parked a little far,” you tell him, “so I’ll get going now. But I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting, right?”

Wonwoo just looks at you gently, like he’s seeing right through you.

“Jeonghan’s the one you met up with, isn’t he?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I had a feeling, but it was a little more obvious when you started getting defensive,” he chuckles. “Plus, I think you forget I’ve known you for nearly a decade now.”

You allow yourself to breathe, relaxing the taut muscles in your neck. “I didn’t want to make it awkward,” you admit. “I know you said you guys still keep in touch sometimes. I don’t want to make it weird.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “Just for birthdays and things like that. We weren’t really that close in college, either.”

Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent, eyes glued to the ground. He seems to sense this and drops the matter, reaching over to pat your shoulder.

“I won’t pry,” he says lightly, “But if you ever want to talk about it, just know you can always call up an old friend.”

You smile. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

“Take care, Y/N. Get home safe.”

The drive home is numbing. The playlist you have on dulls into background noise as you focus on the road, fighting the urge to yawn. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night, and all you want is to be back in your bed.

At the back of your mind, all you can think about is the text you woke up to this morning.

yoon jeonghan: hey, i just wanted to tell you tomorrow is my last day in seoul

yoon jeonghan: i don’t know if you want to see me or not, but i’ll be at semicolon cafe working for most of the day. pls drop by if you have some free time. i really miss you.

So typical of him, to leave it up to you to go find him. And yet, you would — if it came down to it, you would go to the ends of the earth if he asked you to.

Yeonju would be furious if you told her you were even considering it, you scold yourself. After all, she’d only told you to speak to him once for your own peace of mind. Last week should have given you all the closure you needed.

Still, your conscience is swayed at the idea of being able to see him again.

You shake the thoughts out of your head, as if the subtle action could erase the pain and longing you’ve felt for the past eight years.

The traffic light turns green. You step on the gas and don’t look back.

even if i can't be the perfect weather for you, will you still love me like this?

SIX YEARS AGO

Jeonghan has been in the studio for hours.

Nothing seems to sound right, and the frustration makes him want to pull his hair out. He can’t even remember the last time he got out of the chair, but he doesn’t want to lose even a little bit of whatever workflow he’s managed to maintain while he’s been in here.

Occasionally, when the weather is just a little dull and time seems to tick by too slowly, he wonders if he made the right choice. Maybe he should have stuck with his career, actually put his degree to use, instead of setting it aside in the name of passion.

He’s vocalized these thoughts to his manager many times, and Jihoon is awfully good at raising his spirits, but the self doubt seeping into his soul is very hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, he presses the play button again, whatever he’s conjured up in the last couple of hours playing in his headphones again. It doesn’t sound any better this time.

Yes, he could swallow his pride and ask Jihoon for help, but after a year and a half of unsuccessful ventures in the music industry, he wants to be able to do something on his own.

Prove himself; to Jihoon, the world, and you.

Jeonghan will never forget your only words to him when he’d first revealed his plan to switch career paths, just a month or two before graduation.

(“I always believe in you,” you’d said, following it up with a comforting hug.

“Always?”

“Always.”)

And when you said that with such conviction, placing all of that trust and belief in his hands, he knew there was no way he could turn back on what he’d set his sights on. In truth, on days where things just seem so bleak, you are his strength, and he wishes he could tell you that.

But when your name comes through on his phone, he falters.

What is he supposed to say? All he can give is excuses, that nothing’s really worked, nothing has panned out in his favor yet. As it is, the two of you haven’t spoken that much since graduating, both of you occupied with your own goals and careers, and at times like these he feels your absence a little extra.

Is this what it means to grow up and grow apart?

For now, he ignores the buzzing, telling himself he’ll come back when he’s snagged his first real achievement. You’ll be proud of him, and he’ll finally make something of himself.

Jihoon walks into the room, closing the door quietly, right when he’s about to listen to the track for maybe the hundredth time.

“Oh, hey.” Jeonghan can hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “What’s up?”

“Wondering when the last time you slept was.” Jihoon sinks into the chair beside him, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like a zombie.”

“Yeah, I feel like one.”

“You need to spend less time in here,” Jihoon advises gently. “Or you’re going to lose your mind. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“I just can’t figure out what it is I’m missing,” Jeonghan sighs, evidently frustrated. “It’s like, almost there, but not really. It’s been killing me for days.”

“You know, these things do take time.”

“Or maybe I’m just not cut out for this and I should just go work for a news channel instead.”

Jihoon watches him carefully, picking up on his slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “And then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you held on just a little bit longer. Do you really want that?”

Jeonghan doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s been hearing the same things from everyone around him — his parents, his sister; everyone talks of a future where he’s already succeeded, but that isn’t set in stone. Nothing is promised, he knows.

“I need a miracle,” he mumbles instead.

“You need to eat,” Jihoon corrects. “I just placed an order for dinner, and I know you like sundubu-jjigae, so you have no excuse to bail on me this time.”

Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then gives in. “Fine,” he says, “but I can’t stay too long.”

“Good.” Jihoon rises, and then places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.”

“Thank you.”

He’s alone again, when the door closes behind the shorter man. It’s something he’s had to get used to; he’s learned to rely on himself over the past year or so, but when the reality of loneliness sinks in, it breaks his heart just a little.

Even more so knowing that it’s his fault that he’s pushed everyone away, including you.

Your name is still burned into Jeonghan’s brain, and his fingers itch to respond, but he ignores the urge. His phone is left forgotten as he slips his headphones on again, tinkering with the unfinished track.

And the thought of you dissolves into the music.

we used to be best friends, i remember you said you can be yourself when i'm around

PRESENT DAY

Today is the day that Choi Seungcheol learns that you are full of surprises.

In all your five years of working for him, he’s never once had you call in sick for work or ask for a day off. You’ve always been hard-working, maybe too much at times, but he sounds like he definitely didn’t anticipate this.

“Oh,” is all he says when you request the morning off. “Yeah, sure. Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really, but I will be before the client meeting at three, so I’ll be present for that.”

“Oh, all right. We’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

It weighs on your conscience that the first time you request time off also happens to be the first time you blatantly lie to your boss, but you’ve already deliberated this enough with Yeonju over call last night.

(“I’ve been such an honest worker,” you said dramatically, “and now I’m running all that to the ground.”

“Don’t be so theatrical. Choi Seungcheol can afford to give you half a day of paid leave.”)

Now that you’ve settled that, you grab your heavy winter coat, setting out into the morning cold. Damn Yoon Jeonghan for making you move your whole day around for him. You had predicted correctly that Yeonju would berate you for it — you sat through a lecture over the phone last night — but that hadn’t deterred your resolve to see him again.

Who knows? His behavior is so erratic that even you, who knew him like the back of your hand at one point, can’t predict him anymore. Today could very well be the last time you see him for another few years until he decides he has the time for you again.

Whatever, you huff to yourself as you walk briskly, knowing that as upset as you get, the soft spot you harbor for him will never go away.

You had worried that it would be a little too early, since it’s only eight in the morning, but you have no problem finding Jeonghan in the sea of caffeine-deprived corporate workers getting their fix in the small establishment. He’s engrossed in his laptop, and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you take the seat across from him, waiting for him to look up.

“Oh,” is all he says, pushing his screen down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think I would, either.”

Jeonghan gives you a sorrowful look, hair fluffy like a halo around his face. “I’m trying, I really am.”

“Jeonghan —”

“I’m juggling so many things at once,” he says quietly. “And I never wanted you to think any less of me. I wanted you to be proud of me..”

“I was. I still am.”

“But I still haven’t done anything.” He sounds more agitated as he speaks. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, I’ve barely made a name for myself. Nothing I do is paying off.”

“You’re trying, though,” you tell him. It saddens you to see him like this. It’s not often that Jeonghan talks about how he feels, especially not now that you’ve grown so distant. “And you don’t have to go off and accomplish great things for me to be proud of you. I already am.”

He’s quiet, like he’s dwelling on something.

“I’m sorry,” he says a few seconds later. “It’s just all been such a mess.”

“That’s okay.”

In the silence between those two words are many more that don’t need to be spoken for him to understand. You’re doing okay. Everything will turn out okay.

“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” he says again, eyes a little shiny when he looks back at you.

Nostalgia fills your brain, all of those treasured memories with him resting in a well-lit corner of your heart.

“You know, it really hurts, Han, to keep doing this push and pull with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” he laughs wistfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, honestly. And I’m really trying to be better about it. Things are looking up now, I think. It’s getting a little easier than before.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I knew you could do it.”

“How…” Jeonghan starts tentatively. “How long are you here for?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply, fidgeting with one of your bracelets. “Not too long.”

“Are you going to have something to eat?” An olive branch.

“I have food I meal-prepped at home.” A subtle denial.

The silence is loud. You try to think of something, anything to say to fill it, but you come up blank. There’s not much else to be said in the fraught air between the two of you. Not now, anyways.

“I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, eyes landing on his half shut laptop. “I didn’t mean to take time out of your day.”

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I got to see you.”

“Have a safe trip to… wherever you’re going.”

He chuckles. “Just Jeju, but thank you.”

Before you leave, you reach for the scarf loosely wrapped around your neck — your favorite one you’ve had since college, the plaid cream-colored one — and you set it down on the table. He just looks at you questioningly.

“Why…?”

“It’s cold,” you say with a faint smile. “You haven’t changed, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Thank you.”

You take the time to memorize him — the curve of his face, the soft look in his eyes, the one reserved for you and the ones he holds close. If you could etch his features in your brain here and now, you would.

“Well,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Don’t be a stranger, Han. The next time I see your name, it better be a call from you instead of another news headline.”

Jeonghan nods, eyes forming crescents. “I’ll do my best.”

And there is something to be said about the love in looking back, for sure, but there is also love in not looking back, in choosing to keep your eyes trained on the path before you. There is love in knowing your weaknesses, that if you turn around you might not be able to walk away after all.

You don’t release the breath you’re holding until you walk out the door. It’s raining, you realize with a start, the previously clear sky clouded over. It seems that your overcast heart has been mirrored by the earth.

The rhythmic droplets provide a strange sense of comfort as you let yourself get soaked, for lack of an umbrella. It works in your favor, anyway, because nobody will assume anything’s amiss if your face is already drenched.

Pit, pat. The smell of wet soil rises in your nostrils, and you let the tears fall.

no matter where i am in the world, i'll say it's you

FOUR YEARS LATER

The lights are blinding, and the sounds of the camera shutters are incessant. But this is the life Jeonghan has always dreamed of, so he doesn’t dare complain.

In truth, he doesn’t care for a lot of the interviews he’s been asked to do — he can’t be bothered by the mundane, mind-numbing questions he gets asked over and over again. Nothing ticks him off like the insensitive digs into his personal life they always ask him, searching for information he doesn’t wish to disclose.

But he does it, anyway, because what choice does he really have? It’s good for your image, Jihoon always tells him, adding another event to his schedule. It’s for your public platform.

“So, you’ve come out with another hit single,” the interviewer starts, beaming at him. His teeth are so artificially white, they seem to reflect the bright studio lights. “How does it feel to accomplish such a success yet again?”

“It’s really great,” Jeonghan answers honestly. “I’m very grateful to my manager, producer, and my beloved family. And, of course, all of the wonderful fans. I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”

“A touching answer as always, Jeonghan-ssi.” The man flashes a smile at the cameras. “Your new single To You was really well received by fans, especially for its fresh and passionate take on what it feels like to be in love.”

The blazer feels stiff now, under the heat of the lights. Jeonghan tries not to dwell too deeply on the true inspiration for the song he’d written late at night a couple years ago, overcome by his own heart.

“I’m really glad that everyone’s been enjoying it so much. That really was the intention,” he says, “to have a song that makes you feel like you’re floating.”

“And it does!” the interviewer laughs. “A lot of viewers really appreciated the sincerity of feelings that was conveyed through the song. Which raised the question; have you ever been in love before?”

Something akin to a late realization suddenly hits Jeonghan right there in the hot seat, under all those lights and cameras. His hand comes up to toy with the end of the scarf he’s wearing, a keepsake of treasured memories.

“Maybe,” he says with a wistful smile.

Wherever you are in the world right now, there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re watching.

“Maybe I have.”

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear it :) much love, ashi xx

#jeonghan x reader #svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt one shot #svt fics #svt jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan friends to lovers #jeonghan one shot #jeonghan fics #kpop fanfic

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hoshifighting · 3 months ago

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ok... so i've seen your amazing college fling works for seungcheol, jeonghan, and joshua.... but what about one for hoshi 👉👈

ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

WARNINGS: freshmen!hoshi, late night practices, burn-out, shyness, sunbae!reader, fluff, a lil bit of angst.

WC: 2.8k of this... judge me 🗣needed to divide this into parts...

part 1 / part 2

college fling!hoshi that you clocked that he was a freshman by the very moment he stepped into the dance practice room. it started with the smell, honestly. freshman reek—like nervous sweat and too much axe body spray, paired with the faintest whiff of fear. baggy-ass hoodie that practically swallowed his arms, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they’d get fined if they came out, sneakers so new they squeaked against the gym floor. he looked young. not in a bad way, just in that “i’m not used to being left unsupervised” way.

he stood in the doorway like he didn’t know what to do with himself. everyone else was stretching, pulling their limbs into shapes human joints probably weren’t meant for, and there he was, swaying on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting to ask if they could borrow a crayon.

“you lost?” you called out, not even looking up from where you were sitting, tying your shoelaces.

“huh? n-no, i’m, uh—this is intro to hip-hop?”

the way he said it like a question had you biting back a grin. “yeah, you’re in the right place. c’mon in before the instructor roasts your ass for lurking.”

he shuffled in, taking a spot in the back corner like he was hoping no one would notice him. “i'm invisible if i stand still enough”, he thinks. but of course, everyone noticed him. new kid energy was impossible to ignore, and to top it off, he had that awkwardly cute thing going on. messy bangs falling into his eyes, face pink like he was one awkward comment away from combusting. his eyes, wide and curious, darting around like he was mentally cataloging every single thing in the room.

“you got a name, freshman?” you asked, leaning back on your hands as you watched him.

he blinked, like he didn’t realize you were still talking to him. “oh, uh, hoshi. i mean, soonyoung. but people call me hoshi.”

“cool. you dance before, hoshi?”

“alright, new guy!” the prof clapped his hands, dragging everyone’s attention. “show us a little freestyle! don't be shy...”

college fling!hoshi who freezes mid-blink, still thinking about your question. clutching his backpack straps so hard you thought they might snap. he turned to you, wide-eyed and panicked, like you could save him from the impending doom.

“relax,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “you do this and sunbae’s buying you dinner. whatever you want. ramen, fried chicken, you name it.”

he blinked, like the concept of being spoiled by you was enough to short-circuit his brain, but there was something there. a spark. like maybe he didn’t wanna flop in front of you.

“okay,” he mumbled, and you gave him a grin that could probably power a small city.

“attaboy,” you said, patting his shoulder as you turned back to the class.

by the end of the first class, he’d loosened up a bit—mostly because the instructor made everyone run through improv drills, and there was no room for shyness when you were flailing around to some experimental old-school rap track. you caught him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

college fling!hoshi who finally zipped up his backpack after what felt like an eternity, stood up, and immediately knocked over a water bottle with his foot. he muttered a quick, shy “sorry,” barely glancing at the offended plastic, and shuffled toward you. his shoulders were stiff, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were the only things tethering him to this earth. you gave him a once-over, your phone in one hand, and a smirk playing at your lips. “you survived,” you said casually, and his grin was so tiny you almost missed it.

college fling!hoshi who started walking alongside you, a little too close like he didn’t know how to pace himself yet. every few steps, his elbow brushed yours, and he’d shift just enough to make it obvious he noticed. you didn’t say anything—just side-eyed him with a teasing smile that had his ears turning red.

college fling!hoshi who paused outside the building with you, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve as he asked, “so, uh… what do you like to eat?” his voice was barely louder than the passing breeze. you raised an eyebrow at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “you’re really gonna let me pick, huh?” he nodded, determined, even as he shuffled his feet. “you said you’d spoil me,” he countered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sass in his tone. you liked it.

college fling!hoshi who almost tripped on his untied shoelace when you said you’d pick a place, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he bent down to fix it. he was mumbling something about bad luck when you crouched beside him, yanking the lace from his hands and tying it with a quick knot. “you’re gonna kill yourself before dinner at this rate,” you said, and the way he stared at you—wide-eyed, lips parted—made it feel like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.

college fling!hoshi who sat across from you at the tiny chicken shop, looking at the menu like it was a math test. “it’s just chicken, dude,” you teased, propping your chin in your hand. he fumbled with the laminated page, finally blurting, “but what if I pick something too spicy?” you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, rookie, let me help you out.” you ended up ordering for both of you, and when the dish came, his eyes lit up.

college fling!hoshi who distractly puts too much sauce on his chicken wing and doesn’t notice because he was too busy grinning at your stories. “wait, wait—so you fell during a performance?” he asked, the sauce at the corner of his mouth. you groaned, throwing a napkin at him. “it wasn’t just a fall, okay? it was a crash,” you admitted, and his laugh was so loud the couple at the next table glanced over. “stop making fun of me or I’ll make you pay,” you threatened, and his face instantly sobered. “wait, what?”

college fling!hoshi who insisted on paying despite your earlier threats. he pulled out his wallet like it was some grand declaration of independence, only to hesitate when he realized he didn’t have enough cash. “um…” he started, cheeks burning. you rolled your eyes and handed your card to the cashier before he could protest. “rookie rule number one,” you said smugly, “always check your wallet before acting like a big shot.” he muttered something about repaying you, and you just laughed, nudging him toward the door.

college fling!hoshi who got lost again on the way back to his dorm, despite the fact that he’d been living there for a week. “are you serious right now?” you asked, watching him squint at the campus map on his phone. he scratched the back of his head, mumbling, “it all kinda looks the same at night.” sighing, you grabbed his phone, pulled up the map yourself, and started walking. “come on, hoshi-ya you’re hopeless.”

college fling!hoshi who walked beside you, hands in his pockets, quietly humming a tune you didn’t recognize. “what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. his eyes widened like he’d been caught. “oh, uh, just something I made up,” he admittedquietly. you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with a grin. “wait, you write music?” he shrugged, suddenly bashful. “a little… it’s not a big deal.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “nah, that’s cool as hell. show me sometime?”

college fling!hoshi who hesitated outside his dorm door, hand hovering over the handle. “thanks for… you know, today,” he said, glancing at you shyly. “and dinner.” you smirked, crossing your arms. “you earned it, rookie. but next time, you’re paying.” his smile stretched wide, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he didn’t want to go in. finally, he nodded, fumbling with the key. “goodnight, sunbae,” he said softly, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you turned to leave.

college fling!hoshi who always trails behind you, holding onto the strap of your backpack like a lost puppy. “you’re gonna rip it, you know,” you tell him, but he just grins and tightens his grip. “you’re my sunbae. gotta make sure I don’t lose you.” it’s so dumb and cheesy that you flick his forehead, but your chest feels warmer anyway.

college fling!hoshi who managed to charm his way into your friend group like he’d been there all along. one of your music department friends spotted him loitering outside your lecture hall and asked, “is that the guy you’ve been dragging around campus?” you rolled your eyes, but hoshi smiled like he’d just won an award. “that’s me!” he said proudly, and somehow by the end of the conversation, they were swapping playlist recommendations.

college fling!hoshi who shows up at your dorm one night with a bruised knee and a sheepish smile. “i tripped during practice,” he admits, wincing as you drag him inside. “tripped or collapsed?” you demand, pointing at the ice pack in his hands. he shrugs, trying to play it off, but you’re already crouched in front of him, scolding him as you press the ice to his knee. “you should stop, sunbae its worried about you.” you mutter, and when he mumbles, “i’ll be fine,” you glare at him until he mutters an apology instead.

college fling!hoshi who gets into his first real argument with you after you find him practicing in an empty studio way past midnight. “what the hell are you doing?” you snap, flipping on the lights to find him mid-spin, sweat dripping down his face. “just a bit more,” he protests, breathless. “i need to get this routine perfect.” but you’re not having it. “perfect doesn’t matter if you’re too dead to perform, hoshi!” he flinches, wide-eyed, but you don’t stop. “you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. stop before you break something.” he looks at you, frustrated, and finally, he slumps onto the floor, whispering, “sorry, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who randomly shows up with snacks between your classes. “figured you’d be hungry,” he says, handing you a convenience store bag. you peek inside—your favorite drink and a pack of cookies. “didn’t know you were trying to bribe me,” you tease, taking a bite. “is it working?” he asks, grinning, and when you give him a thumbs-up, he beams like a kid on christmas morning.

college fling!hoshi who ends up crashing at your dorm after a long night of studying. he’s sprawled on your bed, one arm thrown over his face, while you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing away at your laptop. “you’re gonna fail if you don’t actually read the material,” you say, glancing up. he groans, rolling onto his side. “then i’ll just ask you to tutor me again,” he says, smirking, and you chuck a pillow at his head.

college fling!hoshi who catches you off-guard one day by slipping his jacket over your shoulders during a chilly walk across campus. “you looked cold,” he says simply, his voice softer than usual. you pull the fabric tighter around you, the faint scent of him lingering on it, and when you glance at him, he’s pretending to be super interested in a tree. “thanks,” you say quietly, and he shrugs, his ears turning pink as he mutters, “anytime, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who came back one day to the practice room after a late practice, two cans of soda in hand, humming to himself. “sunbae, I got—” his voice cut off when he saw you slouched on the floor, one hand clutching your forehead. “y/n?” he rushed over, dropping the sodas with a dull clunk. crouching in front of you, his voice softened. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you waved him off weakly. “just tired. it’s nothing.” but he didn’t buy it for a second.

college fling!hoshi who gently pried your hand away from your forehead, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’re burning up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “why didn’t you say anything?” you tried to sit up straighter, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “it’s fine, really. just pushed too hard today.” his expression tightened. “this isn’t fine, y/n. you shouldn’t have kept going if you felt like this.”

college fling!hoshi who helped you lean back against the mirror. “stay still, okay?” he murmured, crouching next to you. you gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “you’re acting like I’m dying, hoshi.” he didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “don’t joke about that,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of improvement.

college fling!hoshi who let you rest your head against his shoulder when you slumped forward again. “here, like this,” he said softly, adjusting so you were cradled in his arms. his hands were steady, one supporting your back and the other brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “just relax. you’re safe.” he started gently blowing on your face, the cool air soothing your heated skin. “better?” he whispered, his voice close enough to send a strange flutter through your chest.

college fling!hoshi who stayed with you until you could sit up on your own again, his arm still lingering behind your back just in case. “you scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “i thought… what if something happened and I wasn’t here?” you blinked up at him, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “sorry,” you muttered. his hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “just don’t do it again, okay? i mean it, you always scold me for practicing too late...”

college fling!hoshi who refused to let you walk home by yourself, no matter how many times you insisted you were fine. “nope, not happening,” he said firmly, slipping your bag over his shoulder along with his own. “if you collapse halfway there, what am I supposed to do? carry you like a princess?” you snorted, but the teasing tone in his voice couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.

“you know, I could really get used to you carrying me around,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh, really?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah,” you said, deadpan, “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute guy carrying them everywhere?”

college fling!hoshi who, despite the teasing tone in your voice, caught that little glint in your eye. “alright, then,” he said, voice suddenly serious, as he paused in front of you. “come here.” without waiting for a response, he slid his arms under your knees and around your back. you yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, he had you lifted off the ground like you were weightless. “you wanted it, right?” he said with a grin, carrying you like it was nothing. “not a word out of you until we get to your dorm.”

“you’re a natural at this,” you teased, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from passing out on me,” he muttered, but his cheeks were flushed, and his hands felt like they were holding you just a bit too tightly. “this isn’t bad,” you added with a smirk, “maybe I’ll start making demands. like, no more walking for me from now on.”

he blushed at your joke but didn’t miss a beat. “you sure about that?” he asked, glancing down at you with a sly smile. you nodded, playing along. “definitely. I’m a princess now. I’ll need snacks, water, a blanket... and don’t forget the back rubs.” hoshi shook his head, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re taking this way too far, but okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “I can do all that...”

“deal. but only if you don’t drop me halfway there,” you teased. hoshi’s grip tightened, his voice lowering a little. “I’ll never drop you, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who made it to your dorm room, still carrying you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this,” he said, shaking his head as he set you down on your bed. “enjoy what?” you asked innocently, grinning up at him. “this whole ‘being carried around’ thing,” he said, still laughing a little. you shrugged dramatically.

college fling!hoshi who would come up to you after class, always fussing over you—was your shoulder okay? did you stretch enough? how was your lunch? you’d always brush it off, sulking a little at the way he took care of you like it was his full-time job.

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hannieween · 5 months ago

Text

strobe lights | lights out series

Joshua's search for an answer to the frenetic pacing of his life leads him down roads that could cause him more confusion. And fear.

✮ pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship ✮ word count: 23.2k

→ season one — season two — read more

› smut warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: anxiety attacks, dark-ish themes, mentions of drugs. smut with plot, toxic joshua is back, mlm action uwu, consensual recordings of sex, jeonghan and joshua are into cucking, dom jeonghan, dom joshua, subby reader, dirty talk, corruption kink, pegging, sort of somnophiliac activities, praise and degradation kink, a long ass threesome, use of the word slut (lovingly), car sex, cum play, cum eating, rimming, slight sadism: face slaps, spanking. masturbation, blowjobs, anal sex, rimming, double penetration, cumming on skin, edging. pet names: baby, bunny, princess, filthy girl, good girl, sweetheart (hers) baby, babe, good boy (jihan) ✮ author's note: hi hi hi hi there everyone! just here with the usual note to indicate that instances where the words Bunny, Princess, or Baby are capitalized, are meant to signify Y/N, ok? ok. ty Baby (●'◡'●) ✮ author's note pt. 2: this is not proofread. i apologize in advance. ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part v

The elevator doors parted with a soft ding. Joshua stepped out, walking down the hallway on the floor he used to live in long ago. He stopped in front of your apartment door, breathing in slowly to calm the tightness in his chest. Bringing a hand up, he knocked three times and waited.

In his hand, he held a bottle of red wine. Joshua did not even know if the dinner went along with it. He preferred whisky. But he would let it slide, for tonight.

The door opened. “Ah, Joshuji! Welcome back!” his best friend chanted, instantly bringing him to a hug. “What’s this?” Jeonghan grabbed the bottle of wine, pretending to read the label. “I don’t know anything about wines.”

“Me neither,” Joshua replied dryly, looking at the interior space. Everything was tidied, his noise amplifiers had been removed and, in their place, stood a bookshelf with your first books displayed. He noticed; that those looked like the books you wrote before you met him.

“Wait here, let me go get her. I think she was taking a nap but, she’s so excited,” Jeonghan said briefly, settling the bottle of wine on the table and turning to the bedroom. “Baby! Wake up, there’s a surprise for you!”

The bookshelf also hosted a pair of pictures of you, one where Jeonghan was kissing your cheek. Before he could see the other one, his best friend came back, the thing in his chest hugged his heart even harder. You were striding close behind Jeonghan, your hand wrapped in his.

“Hi, Joshua,” you meekly stuck your hand out to him. “Jeonghan has told me about you,” a smile painted your pretty face. “Nice to meet you.”

The thing in his chest burst, making him freeze right there and then. Before he could control his body, his hand was reaching yours, in a handshake. The softness of your fingers. It felt right, it was you. You. His Bunny.

“Nice to meet you too,” he forced out.

A sharp intake of breath snapped him back to life. Sitting up in the bed, his senses were catching up. His hand palmed the bed, the spot beside him.

Only to find it vacant. You were not there; this was not your bed. He sat alone in a hotel room.

Joshua let out a breath, bringing his hands to rub his face, trying to calm himself down. He sniffed quietly, trying to hold back the pain throbbing inside his chest.

He searched for his phone in the dark, squinting at the light coming from the screen as he searched for your name. The last text message from you read, Going to bed. I love you! It was sent two hours ago. There was no reply from him.

His thumb trembled slightly before he pressed on the call button. But he held in his breath and pressed the phone to his ear. He still felt hazy, with the last slivers of his nightmare clawing into the back of his head.

“Hello?” he mumbled as soon as he noticed you picked up his call.

“Hi baby,” you replied sluggishly.

“I’m sorry,” he dropped his head slightly. “I’m waking you up.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice went up slightly.

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” he replied, the thing in his chest stammered painfully.

“Is everything okay, Josh? You sound off,” you pointed, and he could almost picture the frown in your face.

“Yeah, baby, everything’s okay,” he replied, a low rasp from the feeling coiling in his throat made his tone sound unsure. “I just miss you terribly.”

You could tell that those last words made his voice thicker. “I miss you too, baby,” you replied sweetly. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Next week, baby, I promise,” he whispered, rubbing the tips of his fingers on the corners of his eyes. “I’ll let you sleep now, okay?”

You paused. “Sure you’re okay, babe?”

The worry he heard in your voice soothed a part of the nasty feeling pulsating in his chest. “Yes, baby, don’t worry,” he mumbled with all of the assertiveness he could muster. “You can go back to sleep now, I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll go back to sleep, but call me tomorrow as soon as you can, please.”

“I’ll do that,” he smiled to himself, trying to picture your sleepy eyes. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Joshua,” you mumbled sweetly. “Sleep well.”

“You too, baby.”

The line went dead, and you lay your head on your fluffy pillows. After returning your phone to the nightstand, you sighed.

A hand quickly came to park on your tummy. “What’s wrong?” Jeonghan mumbled with a sleepy drawl.

“It was Joshua,” you explained faintly. “He had a nightmare.”

“Mmn, again?” Jeonghan asked, rubbing slow circles on your skin.

“He didn’t say it, but that’s what I assume.”

“But is he okay?”

“I don’t think so. He didn’t sound like it,” you whispered glumly. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk these past few days, but he swears he doesn’t remember anything.”

“We’ll go see him in a few days,” he shushed, caressing your hair to uncover your face to his eyes. “Don’t worry about him right now, baby. We can’t help him from here.”

“I just don’t want him to go into hiding again,” you mumbled faintly, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck.

Jeonghan shivered slightly upon the gentle caress of your breath on his skin. “I’ll break him out of it if that’s what it takes,” he replied with certainty. “Now sleep, baby. Got a big day ahead tomorrow. We got to work.”

“Yeah…” you breathed against his neck, placing a small kiss. “Sleep.”

Joshua crafted a routine for himself. While on tour he had to learn one thing: he needed to have order. There was no room for worry, so he would not let his anxieties grow. So, he would call you everyday, although sometimes he could not get to your text messages on time, he made a rule to call you at least once a day.

He would hit the gym every chance he could get, and if there was no gym, he would go out for a run late at night, or before sunrise. Then of course, he would go to work: whether it was at a concert, or interviews, events, photoshoots…

However, there was something else happening within that routine too.

He woke up with a start, snapping his eyes open and sighed with frustration at the loud alarm vibrating beneath his pillow. He shut the high-pitched sound at once, letting his face sink onto the white fluffy pillows with a tired groan.

As he stretched out his limbs underneath the bed sheets, he turned over rubbing his eyes with the back of his knuckles.

Another sigh, he unlocked his phone, checking his schedule for the day, verifying he had three hours until his first activity. Then he moved onto checking the messages he had not attended to, discarding mentally those that seemed unimportant and pressing a thumb over your name.

Call me as soon as you can, please. I love you. Your message read. It was sent a couple of minutes after the phone call last night. If he called you right now, he would wake you up again. He could call you later.

The pad of his thumb slid up, swiftly finding the app where you shared a folder with him, and with Jeonghan. His heart banged against his chest. Is it normal to be this excited so early in the morning?

There were new files added to the secret folder that Jeonghan created a little less than a month ago. Lately, he had been getting a new video more regularly. Joshua wondered why the first few weeks of him going away he did not get anything.

But now, it seemed to him that you and Jeonghan had found a way to keep him updated… and busy. This was his routine. Wake up, check for new messages, watch your videos, work, come back to the hotel, call you, rewatch videos, sleep.

Now, he never considered himself a person that would watch porn. Not regularly, not even by mistake. Not because he did not like it. But because if he wanted to get his hands dirty, he would do so with someone who would have him. He was not interested in watching porn when he could do the real thing with someone.

But watching you like this changed his view in so many ways. He found out that he was wrong for thinking porn was not for people like him.

When he asked Jeonghan and you to keep him updated, he did it purely because he did not want to be left out. He knew he would miss seeing this side of you, so that was one of his conditions.

Joshua also found out, how well Jeonghan knew him.

He always begun his morning by watching one video Jeonghan recorded of you. The angle was perfect, it captured your body lying on the bed, so he could see perfectly from your hips to your face. Jeonghan’s hand pressed a toy to your wet pussy, pleasuring you without letting you stop for air.

“Jeonghan, please,” you whined, teary eyed, hands clutching the towel beneath your body.

“Please, what?” he asked, his voice low and almost aloof, much as if he were also caught up by the faces you made, and the sounds escaping your glossy lips.

“F-fuck me, just fuck me,” you cried out, your face scrunching as you moaned lewdly, thighs shaking uncontrollably. “Please…”

“Why should I?” he retorted. “Aren’t you enjoying this, baby? You’ve came five… how many times already?”

“Se-seven,” you mumbled shamefully, twitching on the bed.

Jeonghan pressed his finger on one of the tiny buttons of the vibrator he was holding against your clit. “Eight makes a nice number, don’t you think?” he asked.

Joshua hated that he knew by the tone alone that Jeonghan was wearing a smirk behind the camera. He knew his best friend so well that he had learned all his gimmicks. The vibrator went faster, teasing your engorged clit mercilessly.

“G-god, Hannie,” you gritted your teeth, closing your eyes tightly. “I’m coming, fuck, fuck, I’m g-gonna come.”

You stirred your back on the bed, sinking the back of your head on the pillow as you came, moaning loudly and so very lewdly. “Fuck, you’re squirting again, baby,” Jeonghan sighed, capturing your climax on camera.

“Please, no more,” you whined, teary eyed and panting. “I just need you, please, please.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan muttered, turning off the vibrator and tossing it aside.

But the video did not stop there. Jeonghan moved the phone closer between your legs, making sure Joshua saw your puffy clit, slick in your arousal, Jeonghan’s fingers slid between your folds, a string of arousal stretching between them.

Joshua’s cock stirred beneath his boxers, and he begun palming himself upon the sight of your messy cunt, the arousal dripping down the wet towel beneath you. The fingers spread your folds open, as you clenched around nothing with the aftershocks of the orgasm that forced through you.

The next video was one of his favorites.

It seemed to him that you barely had the chance to set up your phone camera pointing to you. You and Jeonghan were both sitting on the small couch of your office, you were facing the camera, your back pressed to Jeonghan’s chest.

Joshua liked to think that you chose this position so he could see your face. And it was probably the case. He stroked his cock with one hand, blood rushing to the tip as he spread his own precum all over it.

On this video, you were sitting on Jeonghan, riding him fast. You leaned back slightly so the camera perfectly captured you bouncing up and down Jeonghan’s dick. Your moans are quiet... until they were not when Jeonghan’s fingers came to the view, slipping between your pussy lips, rubbing your clit with fast swirls.

You came on top of him, clutching your thighs with your hands. Writhing, but you continued riding him, a moan escaping Joshua when Jeonghan’s cum dripped down his dick, as you continue fucking yourself on him.

Joshua swipes a finger onto the next video, where you are on all fours while Jeonghan fucks you from behind. He pumped himself faster, watching you come on Jeonghan’s cock over and over as he comes in his own hand.

Jeonghan fucks you as though he were having fun, when he fucks you, he does so playfully. There is a smile on his face as he grabs your ass, fucking you down his cock. The features of his beautiful face are riddled by bliss and pleasure, his throat bobs as he moans.

Every time Joshua watches this, he wishes he were in Jeonghan’s place; feeling you squeeze around him, your warmth wrapping him. But sometimes, if he dared to admit it, he enjoys watching his best friend’s face as he comes with you.

Joshua sent a glance down his lower abdomen, a few beads of cum splayed on his skin. But he ignored it, swiping again on the screen to take a look at the new video Jeonghan uploaded.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” Joshua muttered under his breath.

The video was inside Jeonghan’s car. The phone was mounted on the dashboard, capturing both Jeonghan at the wheel, and you on the passenger seat. Jeonghan was stroking your hair as you were leaning over to him, taking his cock in your mouth.

Jeonghan let out a breath through his teeth. “Fuck,” he gritted, letting his head fall back on the headrest of his seat.

You bobbed your head slowly on him, probably on his command so he did not come too fast.

Something you did with your mouth made Jeonghan laugh. “Fuck, baby, stop doing that or I might come too soon. We’re almost there.”

The lighting inside the car changed, quickly surrounding yourselves by an enclosed space that Joshua quickly assumed was an underground parking lot.

Jeonghan gripped the steering wheel tighter, biting his lower lip as he managed to park the car in a spot, shutting the engine off swiftly.

You lifted your head from his crotch, darting a shy glance around you before clicking your seat belt off. “Move your seat back,” you urged, palming his thigh suggestively.

Joshua was surprised to see you take the light slap Jeonghan gave you on one cheek. “Don’t boss me around,” he used the same hand to cup your chin, squeezing your cheeks to then kiss you chastely.

But he did what you asked anyway, pushing his seat back as you shifted onto your knees on his sides. You moved your hair to one shoulder, uncovering your face to the camera as you leaned over to continue sucking his dick.

Joshua continued watching, languidly playing with his cock as the blood rushed again to the head, growing harder and harder. He encircled his shaft with his fist, pumping himself to full hardness, groaning under his breath as Jeonghan brought a hand down on your ass, spanking you firmly.

Jeonghan drew in a breath, stretching his back in an attempt to resist the pleasure building up inside him. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, baby,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly.

Joshua rolled his hand on his own cock, pumping fast as he remembered how good your pretty mouth feels when you pleasure him; he imagined he was there instead of Jeonghan. You whimpered on Jeonghan’s cock, making him moan as he gathered your hair with his hands, following the movements of your head on him.

“Why don’t we show Joshuji what you’re wearing, baby?” Jeonghan asked, his voice was already turning raspy in wanton.

Joshua’s heart stammered upon hearing his own name being voiced by Jeonghan on the video. This occurred with frequency, and he knew this was Jeonghan's way to taunt him, even through videos.

You paused, pulling off his cock to nod with your head. “Yes, Hannie,” you replied sweetly, but leaned down to continue blowing him off.

“You’re so fucking needy you couldn’t wait till we got home to show him,” Jeonghan rasped, keeping a hand on your hair as he used the other to hike your black mini skirt up, revealing an equally black string thong and stockings.

Joshua shifted his gaze from the side of your face to Jeonghan’s hand caressing your ass gently, pausing to give you a playful spank to make you moan.

Jeonghan sighed, closing his eyes in enjoyment. “Fuck, baby. I need you now,” he urged, releasing your hair.

You stopped sucking him off, pushing yourself from your seat and crawling onto Jeonghan’s lap, clumsily straddling him on his seat. Jeonghan reclined the seat back, making you giggle shyly in the heat of the rushed moment.

Joshua felt disappointed now that he could not get a view on your face. But the feeling was quickly replaced when Jeonghan hiked your skirt up again, uncovering your ass to the camera. Then he understood why he had not seen that thong on you before; it was one of those that left your pussy uncovered completely.

Joshua got a clear view of your hand guiding Jeonghan’s cockhead to your entrance, hearing your whimpers as you sank down on his cock, moving your pretty ass slowly, as though adjusting yourself on him.

“God,” you whimpered, dropping your head on his shoulder as you bounced on Jeonghan gently at first.

Joshua moaned deeply. All focus was on the sight of Jeonghan’s cock disappearing inside your pussy. You were picking up the pace, cupping one of his cheeks to bring him into a kiss to muffle your sweet moans.

“Are you enjoying this?” Jeonghan asked longingly looking at the features of your face.

“Yes Hannie,” you nodded dazedly.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he murmured, a light smirk painting his face. “You should’ve told me you wanted to fuck in my car sooner.”

It was the first time you had sex in a car, and it was even more exciting than when you first brought it up to Jeonghan. You and Jeonghan had been playing a game of chasing new first times, together.

Ever since he took you in a dressing room of a clothing store, an idea sparked in your head. And now, you were there, in his car, grinding on him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Jeonghan sighed in pure pleasure, his hands gripping your waist over your skirt. “I need you to come now, princess.”

“I-,” you choked out, and Joshua could hear the shyness in your tone. “I can’t, Hannie. I’m a little sensitive.”

“But you were begging to have my cock last night,” he rasped, a lazy smile drawing on his face.

“Hannie,” you gasped aghast, but Joshua noticed how your hips stuttered.

“What? Don’t you want Josh to know? How you couldn’t stop bouncing this little pussy on me last night?” he asked, but his tone sounded even more gruff and airy. Joshua knew by the tone alone that he was closer.

“Hannie,” you cried reproachful.

“Your pretty pussy needs to be filled everyday, right baby?” he looked at you languidly. “Come, baby,” he rasped. “Be a good slut for me.”

It seemed to Joshua that in his time away, his best friend had just discovered how much you liked to be talked filth. You nodded frantically, riding him faster.

“G-god, just like that,” Jeonghan grunted blissfully, gripping your waist tighter, hiking the skirt up your back, so Joshua could see the recoil of your ass on Jeonghan’s thighs every time you sank down on him.

Joshua moaned, unable to yank his gaze from the screen. You were riding him faster, eagerly. Jeonghan smiled playfully at you, sighing in pure pleasure.

“Jeonghan,” you whimpered, rolling your hips on his dick with full desperation. “Hannie, I’m close. God, I’m so close.”

“Yes, c-come on my cock, baby,” Jeonghan replied, evidently enjoying how pathetic you were being. His arms encircled your waist hugging you as you hid your face flush on his shoulder. “God, god, princess.”

“Hannie…” you cried out lewdly on his neck, your hands holding onto his shirt for dear life. His arms held you tighter, sighing out a strangled moan as he came with you.

“You’re so good for me,” Jeonghan muttered gruffly, clearly spent. “So good.”

You stopped riding him languidly, his hands now moving on your sides to push your hips up, spreading your pussy lips with his hands as his cum started dripping out of your entrance.

Joshua clenched his jaw, groaning deeply as ropes of cum landed on his fist, closing his eyes so tightly he saw stars. The video was cut there, and he stared at it as he panted, trying to recover and process how much he had liked seeing Jeonghan’s cum dripping out of your used hole.

He threw his phone aside, languidly letting his arms rest for some seconds before he rose from the bed, going directly to start the shower. Standing under the warm shower stream, a thought crossed his mind.

It had seemed as though you and Jeonghan were cruising some kind of honeymoon stage. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you looked in love. And he knew his best friend for long enough to know that he was head over heels for you too.

The only thing he hated though, was that he was not as present in your life.

He came back to the bedroom to find his phone vibrating on the mattress, and he picked it up after reading your name on the screen. As he took the phone to his ear, he stopped at in surprise at the sight of your face, understanding it was a video call.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, clearly noticing that he had thought you were phone calling him. You were still in bed, bundled up in blankets, an arm tucked under your head.

“Oh, hi beautiful,” he replied in kind, his hair dripping wet on his shoulders.

“Did I catch you in a wrong time?” you asked, looking at his naked collarbones covered in droplets of water.

“No, baby. It’s fine, I was about to get ready for my day,” he shrugged lightly and looked for a place to prop his phone so he could get dressed.

“Hannie is here,” you mentioned as Joshua placed his phone against the lamp on the bedside table.

Jeonghan lifted his head from the pillow beside yours. “Hi, Joshuji,” he chanted groggily.

“Hi, Jeonghannie,” he replied with a light smile on his face. The image of you and Jeonghan in bed was not strange to him, as that also formed part of his routine sometimes. “Did you guys just wake up?” he asked, turning to fish a pair of clean boxers from his bag.

“Yeah, like two minutes ago,” Jeonghan groaned with clear annoyance that you were already on your phone video calling Joshua.

You giggled meekly. “Don’t get grumpy,” you teased as the man shifted from his pillow to your chest, getting comfortable on top of your body.

“You don’t let me sleep, so you’ll suffer my grumpiness,” Jeonghan muttered, closing his eyes. “How are you doing, Joshuji? You look tired.”

“I am tired,” he said.

“You have bags under your eyes,” Jeonghan added with a slight mischievous smirk.

“Shut up,” he hissed, feeling his own lips stretching into a smile as well. “You look pale and wrinkly.”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?” his best friend retorted. “Maybe you should take some days off.”

“Stop it, you two,” you huffed, and Joshua giggled bemusedly at your annoyed face.

“Did you watch the videos?” Jeonghan lifted his head only to blurt out that question, you rolled your eyes at him.

“I did,” Joshua coughed out a dry chuckle. “You two have been really busy.”

He stared squarely at the screen of his phone for a second before unwrapping the towel from his waist, trying to ignore that both you and Jeonghan would see him putting on his boxers.

“Ah, a little warning next time!” Jeonghan grumbled, turning his head on your chest as you chuckled.

Chewing on your lower lip to avoid smiling wider you placed a hand on the back of Jeonghan’s head. “Are you busy today, Josh?” you asked sweetly.

Joshua could not help but smiling at the sight of you being soft with both him and Jeonghan at the same time. A warm feeling bloomed inside him. “Yeah,” he replied to your question with a sigh, fetching a t-shirt as he put it on. “I have a packed schedule today. We have to shoot a couple of interviews back-to-back. But then I’ll have a whole day to myself.”

Your fingers started playing with Jeonghan’s long dark hair. “Mmn, you should come straight back here,” you murmured softly.

“I’d love that, baby,” he replied in kind, pouting at you before giving you a smile. “I guess I could grab the earliest flight after I’m done,” he said, following your game.

You knew this was nearly impossible. Not only did Joshua had a ton of activities to do to promote his new album, but you knew how much money it was put towards transportation. Flights were expensive.

But Jeonghan turned his head over, sneaking a look back on the screen. “Our flight is in six days; we could do something.”

Joshua saw in his eyes that he had started to plan but looked at you and then back at him. “Yeah, probably. I’ll check,” Joshua said with a dismissive air, but kept looking at his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, you do that,” Jeonghan replied, but sent him a meaningful look.

“Right,” he sighed. “I gotta go, baby. I’ll call you later tonight,” he paused. “Bye, Jeonghannie.”

“Bye, Josh,” you mumbled sweetly, giving him a sad smile. “Love you.”

“I love you,” he replied.

“Love you, Shujiii,” Jeonghan chanted mockingly, grabbing the phone from your hand and ended the call.

“This color suits you.”

Joshua looked at the woman in front of him. She was young, the bright glimmer in her eyes told him that much. Her long dark hair was draped on her shoulders, covered with a nice pink blouse that was just adorned with a microphone.

“Thank you,” he replied, mustering up a kind smile.

“Where are the others?” she asked, looking around him.

“They’re getting their makeup done. They’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he looked at his watch.

“Oh, cool. That gives me time to reread my questions,” she showed him a smirk, looking up and down her cards and then back to his eyes.

If Joshua meant to read that smirk, he kept himself from doing so. Nodding at her politely, he just stepped back. “Okay. I’ll tell them to get ready,” he lied just to excuse himself, turning back to the dressing room.

He pulled out his phone, unlocking it to find a series of texts messages from you. You usually updated him throughout the day, whenever you felt like the chat you had together was running dry.

So he found a series of photo. First it was a photo of you coming out of bed, holding a fist at the camera in sign of motivation. Have a nice day, Joshie! Your text read. The next photo was the breakfast you made for two, though obviously one plate was for Jeonghan, Joshua found himself smiling. You had made French toast, and that alone reminded you of Joshua.

The last picture was your favorite mug, broken in pieces on the floor, coffee splashed all around it. Jeonghan scared me and I dropped my mug (┬┬﹏┬┬), the text read.

But before Joshua could reply, a member of the staff working on the production of the big company they were being interviewed by called them. They had their go.

“Come on, let’s go! Let’s go, let’s go,” Jihoon chanted over and over, more to himself than to the other two members of Midnight Haze.

“Let’s go,” Vernon replied dryly, but in his own enthusiastic way.

Joshua just nodded and went along with his two bandmates, walking through the tight space of the long hallway. He grew more and more restless as he reached the end of the hall and then the double doors.

The studio was small, and it looked even more cramped by the sound and lighting equipment, the sets of cameras surrounding the set, and the people tracking every single thing that happened during the filming of the interview.

This was not the first time Midnight Haze was interviewed. But it was certainly the first time with such a big production team. This was going to be aired on TV.

And he did not know what to expect.

A very smart PR company was going with Midnight Haze since they started touring again. But not everything was under their control, and as they grew more and more famous, people would naturally start picking them apart, piece by piece.

Needless to say, Joshua was nervous. Fidgeting with the watch on his wrist. He pushed his sleeves once more to his elbows, though pointlessly since they were rolled tight.

One man indicated each member of the band where to sit. And it was not a surprise that Joshua was told to sit diagonally to the interviewer.

Anxiety hugged his chest tightly, but he tried to push it down, swallowing hard and resting his palms on his lap.

“Going on five… four… three…” the man motioned with his fingers, two, one. Go.

All the cameras blinked with a red light, rolling. Joshua Looked at Jihoon and Vernon sitting beside him, looking alive in excitement and nervousness.

“And we are back, and we have a new guest in the studio, Midnight Haze!” the interviewer said, Maddy, Joshua reminded himself, her name is Maddy. She went on to giving a brief introduction to the viewers.

Midnight Haze was an independent band that grew rapidly to success. Or dubbed in the media as, Overnight Success, which Joshua thought was a dumb way to call their years of hard work, years of making music, framing their style, doing their best to put themselves out there.

But the media loves crafting stories. That is their job.

“So tell us more about your album,” Maddy prompted, looking expectantly at the three men sitting in the nice velvety red couch.

Naturally, Joshua had taken the position to answer to these questions, since he was considered the leader of the band, being the eldest, and the frontman. So he just replied. “It’s our first studio album. We worked really really hard to make it, and it means a lot for us to get this opportunity to share it with the world.

The following question was about the production of the album, which Jihoon replied to, taking the opportunity to speak as well, since he was the one who was the most well-versed in talking about songwriting and production.

Vernon took the next question was about touring, and visiting new places, getting to know new things and try new foods.

And lastly, the interview took a turn, diving into questions that sounded more personal. At first, Joshua thought nothing of it since it was a natural thing for media to put them in a tight spot. It was like an experiment, dropping a bomb of a question and see how they would react, make a viral video out of it.

But then, Joshua felt that he was being mocked at.

“Joshua, you had recently gained a reputation of yourself. You’re a bit of a ladies’ man. Want to talk to us about it?” she read her cards, lowering them to her lap with some nervousness. Then eyeing the text on her card and then back to his face, she added. “The people want to know, is there a certain someone in your life?”

Joshua felt as though a hand had squeezed the air out of his lungs. “Uh, no, no there isn’t,” he replied, adding a cough to clear his throat. Then realizing how he was acting, he put in quickly. “I am a free man.”

Joshua Hong, you idiot. He gritted his teeth, throwing a forced smile at the interviewer.

“Free as the wind,” Jihoon added awkwardly, making Vernon squeeze his face into a grimace, chuckling.

“Well that is all the questions I have for you today. Thank you for coming here!” Maddy clasped her hands together, flashing them a corporate smile.

“Thank you for having us,” Joshua replied. The staff member signaled them that the recording was over, and the crew swept in, getting ready to call it a day.

Joshua jumped from the couch, wanting to rip the microphone from his clothes, but someone got to it first, removing it with care before he did something reckless.

He needed a drink.

He undid one button of his white shirt, sighing in frustration and deciding to head back to the van and wait for the guys there.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Joshua turned to see Maddy approaching him. He made sure that the mic was nowhere to be seen, but he still felt weary as he nodded.

“I’m sorry about the last question, if it felt invasive,” she muttered awkwardly, looking around her before blurting: “I didn’t write it in, I didn’t want to ask it, but the team insisted.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, though he tried to sound as understanding as possible, there was an edge to his words. “I’ll better get used to you lot and your questions, right?”

Before he could take in the hurt expression of her face, Joshua turned his back on her, heading to the van.

IS JOSHUA TELLING THE TRUTH?

That was the title to the video that had gone viral within hours. As soon as the interview went live, people started picking it apart. Some to show their true support, some for pure entertainment.

Unfortunately, the latter was the one that gained strength. In a matter of hours, Joshua started seeing a slew, of comments linking the video for him to see. And when people started messaging him, he got worried.

So he ventured on the wild river that was the internet, quickly wishing he had not done so.

The video was a mix of other pictures and videos put together. Bits and pieces of the interview where he was asked about his recent reputation, and his stiff answer were compared to what was a theory crafted by someone who called themselves a follower.

What Joshua saw made the hairs of his nape stand. Is he telling the truth? The caption to the video read. And then he saw his own face, heard his own voice deflect the rumours by saying he was single.

And then, he saw you in the video.

It was just the outline of your body, and he could barely make out your face between the shadows of the photo. He tried to figure when and where this photo was taken, growing more and more restless when he came up with nothing. One thing Joshua new, someone he did not know took this photo.

Jeonghan was in the photo as well, walking behind you, grabbing your hand. The photo framed you as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. But then, the next photo showed you as well, wearing the same outfit, Joshua entering your building with you. Is this girl Joshua’s girlfriend? That was the theory.

The video meant nothing, there could be a thousand videos put together like this. But the damning thing was that it had gained traction, and with it, people that had a million things to say.

A thing which, Joshua dreaded like nothing else.

“Isn’t this going overboard, Hannie?” you asked innocently, setting down the towel on the couch.

“Is it?” he mused, humming as he propped the tripod on the coffee table, adjusting the camera to focus on the couch, and you sitting down on it, putting your hands neatly on your lap.

“I mean you even bought a camera for this,” you muttered between your teeth.

“That’s not true, I already owned this. I did buy the tripod, though,” he pressed the record button. “Wave to the camera, baby,” he instructed softly.

“Do you think Josh will like it?” you waved at the camera aloofly as it captured your movement, adjusting to the lighting of the living room perfectly.

“Mmn, I will,” he smiled at you, rising from his knees to approach you.

You tilted your head back, looking at him with bright eyes. “I know you will, baby,” you replied cutely at him. “But I also want Josh to like it.”

Jeonghan stopped to consider the idea for a second. “I think that he’ll like it too,” he shrugged. “We’ve never talked about our preferences around porn, but I know that he likes you.”

You giggled. “Okay.”

“Ready?” he asked, pinching your chin affectionately.

“Are you?” you grinned, causing him to click his tongue. “Yes, I’m ready Hannie.”

“Lie down, baby,” he motioned to the couch with his head.

“But don’t I—,” you stopped yourself before you could ask. “Mmf,” you hummed as you moved lying your head down on one large cushion as he pressed a knee on the couch, then the other.

“I want to kiss you first,” he explained once his chest was pressed to yours. “Come here,” he whispered, grabbing your cheek with one hand as he captured your lips with his.

“Mmn,” you responded so well to his touch, arching your back on the seats, your fingers sinking in his dark hair, pushing it back.

“You know that I love you, right?” he muttered with a gruff tone, pressing another kiss on your lower lip.

You nodded. “And I love you, Hannie,” you replied with a sweet smile, moving your hands to meet his waist.

Jeonghan shuddered, your hands slipped under his white hoodie, caressing the skin of his tummy. His eyelids fluttered a little, just as he bent down to kiss you again. “Not so fast, princess,” he grunted in your mouth, parting so he could flash you a grin.

“Don’t I get to call the shots tonight?” you teased, sliding your hands up his torso.

Jeonghan snickered. “Not really,” he lifted his arms as you slipped the white hoodie off him, discarding it on the floor without much thought.

“But you’re letting me undress you,” you mused, receiving his face with your hands as he gave you another long, passionate kiss, lips smooching against each other as you hummed.

His hand found the zipper of your hoodie now, sliding it downwards. “Because you’re letting me undress you.”

You silently watched him as he slowly discovered that you wore nothing beneath that hoodie. He had suspected it when he arrived at your apartment but finding it out was even more exciting. “No bra?” he smirked when you just nodded with a sheepish grin. “Is this the same case for your panties too?” he nodded at your short pajamas.

“No, Hannie,” you giggled at his question. The sound bubbly and full of joy.

His ears perked up at this. “Are you nervous?”

“Of course I am,” you cooed, brushing a rebellious strand of hair that tangled with his long eyelashes.

“Don’t be,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

“I want you to like it, Hannie,” you explained, your smile fading slowly as you gave in fully to the reason of your uncertainty.

“Don’t worry, I’ll like it,” he pressed his lips in a reassuring smile.

“Because you like me?” you quipped, referring back to what he had said about Joshua.

“Ah, but this is different,” he coughed up a chuckle. “You’re the one who’s going to, how did you put it?” he tilted his head with a dramatic pause. “Fuck me?”

That made the giggle return, brightening your face. “Hannie!” you said, pushing his shoulder a little.

“You will do all the work, I’m just going to tell you how,” he shrugged slightly, given that his arm was still pressed on the couch, propping his weight.

Your smile faded once again, your eyes getting lost in the features of his beautiful face.

“What?” he noticed. “Are you starting to regret this, baby?”

“No, no,” you choked out. “I’m just—I wanna do this now,” you nodded.

“Slow down, princess,” he reminded you with a soft tone, leaning his face so he could meet your lips with his. “There’s no need to rush.”

“But I want to make you feel good,” you whispered shakily in between kisses. “Please.”

He let a soft breath through his nose. The pressure wrapping his heart was overwhelming him. “Okay,” he conceded, though it had not taken too much insisting.

You both moved on the couch, so he was now the one lying down, with you sitting on top of him. His hands reached out to grab the sides of your zip hoodie, tugging the sleeves clumsily to get them off you. You backed up, helping him take your hoodie off and dropped it on top of Jeonghan’s.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he gasped, grabbing you by your waist as you leaned over to litter his face and neck with kisses.

“Thank you, Hannie,” you mumbled with a sigh, his hands were sliding up the line of your back, causing you to shiver. “You-you’re beautiful too.”

Jeonghan giggled. “Thanks, babe.”

You were creating a trail of kisses, starting first with his neck. He had a prominent Adam’s apple, which you kissed and adorned with a small hickey. Jeonghan tensed as you suckled on his skin, closing his eyes, and letting his mouth part.

You had never really marked him before, not because you had not wanted to, but because he would not let you. It was a game of his: not letting you touch him or pull his hair during sex, that also included hickeys.

But he was a different man now. Fully committed to you. It may be silly, but to you it seemed fair.

“Baby,” he breathed languidly, focusing on your lips on his skin only. He felt himself start to grow harder under his sweats.

“Mn?” you darted a look at him, only to find him peacefully enjoying your mouth on him.

“Keep going,” he muttered.

You smiled at him, which he did not see. But you lowered your head again, raking his chest with your fingernails as you suckled a lovebite on one of his collarbones.

It was as if the roles were reversed. You were usually the one pleading him to keep going, to go harder or faster. But in reality, you were still waiting for his command, following it with no second thought.

Slowly, you had created a small trail of red spots that led below his belly button, where he was strangely sensitive as your fingertips grazed his skin before slipping them beneath the elastic band of his boxers.

“Shit,” he whispered as you delivered another red mark on the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“You’re a bit sensitive down here, aren’t you?” you teased with a small grin.

“Shut up,” he groaned, opening his eyes to find you straightening up to tug his sweats boxers down.

You laughed at his annoyance as he pushed his hips up, letting you tug his navy-blue boxers and black sweats down, discarding his warm clothes on the floor.

You got to work at once, sitting on your knees between his legs. “Can I suck you off, Hannie?”

It was a question that he did not need to reply to. As your hand circled his shaft, he nodded, swallowing hard as you pumped him a few times, getting the tip to swell and redden with arousal rushing fast to it.

“Yeah, please do,” he murmured faintly, tipping his head back on the cushion as you pressed a kiss on his pretty cockhead.

“Hmm,” you breathed, wrapping your mouth around it, tasting the salty precum leaking from the slit. “Have I ever told you that I think your cock is pretty?”

Jeonghan started chuckling, chest vibrating with the sound of it. “That was the first thing you said when you looked at it, baby,” he remarked, reminiscing of the first night you saw him naked.

“Mn, I think it’s pretty,” you nodded aloofly, pumping him on his base as you leaned your head to take him back into your mouth.

“All yours,” he whispered, parting his lips in pleasure as you bobbed your head on him, sliding your mouth on his cock. “God, you’re so good at this.”

All he heard was a muffled laugh. His hands grabbed your hair, eyes shut tightly as you continued to give him head him eagerly, slurping sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked him off as if your life depended on it. Your tongue swirled around his cockhead, sucking his length every time you pulled your head up.

“Fuck, fuck,” he gritted, seeing stars. “Baby, stop—stop. I don’t wanna come so soon.”

You pulled out of his cock a second after his rushed pleas came out of his mouth, looking at him wide eyed as he breathed hard. His fingers slipped off your hair, hands falling on his sides languidly as he eyed you meekly.

“All good?” you whispered.

He nodded with his head on the large cushion. “Yeah,” his mouth slowly stretched in a smile. “All good.”

You leaned over his body when his hand reached out to grab you, cupping your cheek as you met his lips with your own. You moaned into the kiss when his tongue swiftly swiped a line on your lower lip, finding your tongue with a moan on his part.

“Are you wet, baby?” he asked, his voice thickened with arousal.

“Don’t you want to find that out?” you smirked playfully at him.

“Tsk,” he tutted. “You’re bratty today.”

But you giggled in triumph when his hand sneaked down your lower tummy, past the band of your pajama shorts and panties to cup your pussy, feeling the warmth and wetness pooling in there.

“Princess, you’re soaked,” he gasped, feeling your panties damp against the back of his fingers. “Do you enjoy sucking me off that much?”

You stole a kiss nodding at him, a moan escaping between your lips when he dipped a finger inside your entrance, followed by another.

“Mm, baby, I want to feel you right now,” he purred in your mouth, pumping his fingers in and out, but doing it teasingly, knowing that it would get you nowhere near your climax.

“Oh, y-yes, Hannie,” you curled up against him, pushing your hips towards his hand, trying to get him to reach the spot in your walls you liked him to finger so much. You pushed your pajama shorts down to your knees, tugging your panties down as well in eagerness.

Jeonghan smiled, seeing that you were so distracted by your newfound pleasure that you forgot what the plan was initially. “So you don’t want to fuck me anymore?” he teased playfully, conscious of the word choice he was using.

Your eyes fluttered open, a light frown appearing on your face. “No—I still want to.”

You clumsily stepped out of your pajama shorts and your ruined panties, discarding them also with the rest of the clothes on the floor. Now, you were both fully unclothed and ready for each other.

Your cheeks were painted with heat, lips glossy and puckered as you sneaked a kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Tell me what to do?” you muttered, your tone quivering but still managing to sound cute to his ears.

“Relax,” he instructed first, squeezing your hip fondly. “Grab the bottle of lube, Princess,” he told you softly, and you reached back for the bottle of lube that you almost forgot on the coffee table, taking the freedom to also grab the toy sitting beside it.

Jeonghan pushed one knee up, the sole of his foot still planted on the couch as you scooted closer between his legs. “Remember how we do this, baby?” he called, making you yank your gaze from his naked body splayed on the couch and found his eyes.

It took you a second to understand what he was implying. You gulped hard, nodding quietly as the memory of Joshua fucking your ass flashed through your mind. Or the times when Jeonghan fucked you from behind, his fingers playing with your puckered hole, while shoving his cock in your pussy.

The bottle of lube emitted a soft clicking noise when you opened it. Reminding yourself to breathe, you spread the cold lube on the pads of your fingers, trying to rub them together as you leaned over towards Jeonghan. You kissed him softly at first, his hands roaming all over your body made you moan into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Your fingers trailed down, heart beating faster inside you when Jeonghan adjusted his hips for you, making it easier to find the path down his shaft. A shudder ran down your spine when you sneaked a look down his body, finding out how hard his cock was, precum leaking out of the tip and falling on his skin.

Beneath your nervousness, you found a reason to smile at him. “Have I ever told you that I think you have a cute ass?”

“I would remember something like that,” he giggled, his perfect set of teeth.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss on his teeth. “You have a cute ass, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.

“It’s funny because I don’t have any,” he mumbled, groaning quietly when your fingers make their way down the shaft of his cock, grazing his ball sack with the back of your fingers. “Joshua has a cuter ass. It’s rounder than mine.”

You laughed at his statement, uttered in a rush. “How do you know?” you retorted. The pads of your fingers pushed down on his puckered hole, gently at first, tentative.

A small grunt escaped his lips, his body tensing slightly on the couch. “It’s okay, keep going,” he put in gently, closing his eyes briefly. “It’s just cold,” he smiled shyly. “Oh, I know,” he sent his gaze to the ceiling. “Shua use to let me use it as a stress ball sometimes.”

“Really?” you mumbled, outlining his features with your gaze. Enjoying the dazed look in his eyes. “What changed?” you asked, pressing kisses on his lips as you pushed your finger in, feeling his muscles relax and contract around you.

“Well, you came along. And here we are now.”

“Here we are,” you grinned, pushing the tip of your finger further in. “Hannie?”

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re good,” he showed you a smile.

That emboldened you to keep going.

“You can use two now,” he mumbled, grabbing you by your hip, clenching your skin softly.

You recalled all those times Joshua used his fingers to prep you, a wave of arousal coursing through your body when you saw Jeonghan swallow a moan, when your lubed fingers went further in a bit, spreading him open gently. You remembered how it felt like, and you felt like moaning too.

“More,” he rasped, closing his eyes, a soft sigh brushing your lips.

Your body grew tense with excitement when you saw him bite his lower lip. His hand shifted on your hip, finding your tits to knead, his thumbs brushing your nipples, swirling the pads around them, getting them hard.

“Hannie,” you mewled, shuddering against his touch. Your skin prickled, he fiddled your nipples between his pointer and middle fingers, palming your breasts with a low hum from his part.

“Use the toy now,” he instructed, giving you a slight nod with his head in reassurance.

You bristled with anticipation, sitting back on your heels to grab the toy with one hand and the bottle of lube with the other. “Should I put it on first?” you asked innocently, looking at the double ended toy that allows you to feel pleasure as well.

“If you want to, baby,” he said.

You decided to do something before putting it on yourself. Smearing some lube on your hand, you lubed the dildo up, sneaking a look at your boyfriend as he noticed your shaking fingers.

“Relax, baby,” he reminded you. “I’m going to like it.”

Jeonghan tilted his hips for you, sucking in a breath when you used your lubed fingers to spread him open. His own hand coming in to help you as you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered hole.

Glancing up his face and down his body, you continued to push in, slowly, shallowly thrusting the toy as his mouth fell open, his eyelids fluttering as he closed them with a small sigh. You retracted the toy using more lube with your fingers to thrust another inch in, slowly.

“Fuck, baby,” he chocked out his hand snapping to grab your wrist. His eyes were blown wide with lust. “Put it on, now,” he commanded.

You nodded silently, pulling out the toy gently as he reached out to grab the remote controller from the coffee table. “Wait, Hannie, are you sure?” you asked, the toy flashing a single led light, ready to be used.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly. “I need you to feel it too.”

The end that you were using was a smaller vibrator that attached itself to the dildo with a magnet, that way you did not have to use a harness and were able to feel pleasure too. Jeonghan took the vibrator from you, realizing that he also had spread lube on his fingers and pushed himself from the cushions of the couch to press the pads of his fingers against your pussy.

“Hannie!” you flinched, surprised that in seconds he had moved that fast.

“I need you right now,” he explained with a gruffy edge on his tone, his fingers rubbing lube on your messy cunt.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” you squirmed, as he sent you a look before nudging the tip of the smaller vibrator on your entrance.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, pushing in the vibrator inside you. It was bulbous but designed to lodge itself inside your walls. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded nervously, leaning your body over as he lied down again. You bit your lower lip, nudging the tip of the larger vibrator against his hole, feeling emboldened by the reassuring look he sent you.

“God, fuck,” Jeonghan gasped, his body tensing on the couch as you inserted the vibrator by pushing your hips towards his, thrusting shallowly, and clumsily. “Fuck, k-keep going, baby.”

Jeonghan took one big gulp of air, and you mimicked the action unknowingly right before you retracted your hips, a hand flying to hold onto his thigh as you met his hips with your own, penetrating him fully.

“God, princess,” he groaned languidly, jaws tightly clenching together as his face contracted in pleasure.

“You okay?” you mumbled, eyeing his finger on the remote.

“Yes, baby,” he smiled, finding your worry endearing.

“I just—fuck, Jeonghan!” you screamed at him when the vibrator inside you came to life, sending strong pulsations on your walls, on that glorious spot it was lodged in. “Warn me next time!”

“There she is,” he muttered, biting the tip of his tongue as he too relished at the feeling of the vibrations running inside him. He patted your hip with one hand. “Move, baby, I need you.”

Your other hand found his hip, as you retreated yours to meet right back in, swaying them gently, pushing the vibrator to massage him slowly at first. You moaned, feeling the toy work its miracle inside you as it was inside him.

But his face was a complete mirage, he was biting his lower lip, his half-lidded eyes on you the whole time as you thrusted your hips against him. It was hard to find a pace you could keep, you felt stiff and clumsy. But once Jeonghan’s mouth parted, giving way a series of sweet moans, you found your goal to elicit more sounds from him.

Your hands found his thigh, wordlessly motioning to lift it, pressing it against his chest. Another raunchy moan came out of his lips as you moved your hips on him faster, making him grab your ass to follow the motion of your thrusts.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned lewdly, his voice thick with arousal. “Princess, touch me, please.”

You frowned before you sent a look down his body. Your fingers circled his hard cock, pumping him at the same pace your hips were meeting his. His moans became louder, harder to control as he shut his eyes tightly. “Right there, baby,” he rasped, his eyes teary.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, hips rutting against him desperately, the vibrator pulsating inside you harder every time you hit your hips clashed with his. His face, riddled with pleasure made it impossible for you to hold it any longer.

“God, baby,” he gasped, his eyebrows drawn in. “I’m g-gonna come,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a long second.

And then he started making the sweetest, rawest sounds you have ever heard in your life, his lower lip was trapped behind his teeth, moans coiling in his throat as you fucked him through his high. Ropes of cum spurted from his tip, landing on his tummy, and just kept leaking, eliciting a moan from you.

You looked at your fist, the back of your fingers coated with Jeonghan’s cum. “Baby,” you gasped, realizing that he was still heaving. “Okay?”

Jeonghan chuckled lazily. “Princess, I swear,” he drawled. “That was amazing,” he said with a long sigh.

You giggled cutely at his face, relaxed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Let me go get something to clean you up,” you muttered, using your hand on his hip for support as you retracted your hips back.

He moaned, shuddering when you carefully pulled out the toy from him. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered, resting his head back on the cushions.

The living room was even quieter when you returned, thinking that Jeonghan might have fallen asleep as you went to the bathroom to wash your hands and to get wet hand towel.

But no, his head turned to follow your movements with his gaze, he had been waiting for you starting at the ceiling.

You decided to straddle him, sitting on his thighs comfortably to wipe the cum from his tummy with gentle motions. “So,” you started, a smile playing on your lips. “You’ve grabbed Joshua’s ass?”

Jeonghan let out a breathy chuckle, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Ah, I should’ve known you wouldn’t let that go.”

“Answer my question,” you quipped.

“Yeah, I have. Why is that important?” he rumbled, sending a look to the camera that was still rolling.

You followed his gaze, finding the blinking red light of the device. “What, you don’t want this recorded?” he gave you a look. “Why? You could always cut it out,” you shrugged.

“It’s going to be a bitch to edit,” he sighed heavily. “You know what, fuck it. Yes, I used to have a crush on him.”

The shock upon hearing that was like nothing else. “Used to?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Long ago, baby,” he rolled his eyes. “Like waaaay before he met you.”

“Does Joshua know?” you asked at once, heartbeat stammering hard and fast against your chest.

“Does he…” he repeated, dumbfounded. His frown eased. “Of course he knows, baby. I told him. Besides, he already suspected it when we talked about it.”

“He did?” you gaped at him. “Well, you were either too open about it or he was exceptionally good at noticing.”

“Yeah, okay, it wasn’t just a crush,” he rolled his eyes, chuckling dryly with an awkward air surrounding him as he caressed your thighs. “I liked him quite a lot. It was embarrassing.”

“Why embarrassing?” you giggled sweetly. “Hannie, why did you never tell me this?”

“For obvious reasons,” he replied. “It happened long ago, baby. It doesn’t even matter now.”

Bewildered, you huffed. To think that Jeonghan has had feelings for you and Joshua was something that would take you a little bit of time to digest.

“So what happened?” you pried even more. “When you talked about it, how did Joshua react?”

Jeonghan pouted, humming in thought. “It’s simpler than you think, baby. I trust him, and he trusts me. I told him that I liked him, he told me nothing would happen between us. So I put a stop to what I felt, and never risked losing him as a friend again…”

Until you came along, the words were not said, but they echoed between you and him.

“You put a stop to what you felt?” you echoed confusedly.

“I did. I forgot about it eventually. If you’re thinking that I still have feelings for him, I don’t,” he chuckled dryly. “If that wasn’t obvious already…”

“It’s not obvious, Hannie,” you retorted. “I mean, you’ve had sex with him–I mean, not with him, but with me while he’s there too. That doesn’t make you think that you might still have a crush on him?”

“No,” he replied at once. “That happened long ago, and it was for a brief time, baby.”

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged, shyly looking at him. “You know? You’re in a relationship with me and him, in a way…”

“Yeah, I know how it looks. And yes, it is weird at times, but he’s still my best friend,” he brushed the back of his finger down your cheek. “I love you, and I’m happy being with you.”

You smiled, leaning to press a sweet kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Hannie.”

“So what’s next?” he asked, his tone was still languid. “What’s next on the list?”

“Do you want more, Hannie?” you asked, teasingly.

There was no list. But when you mentioned to him you wanted to try out new things, Jeonghan wasted no time and got to work.

“Not right now,” he sighed a smile. “But I wanna know what you would like to do next.”

“Mmn, we tried pegging, car sex—”

“How come you’ve had anal sex with me, but I haven’t had anal with you?” he blurted, knowing what the bold wording would do to you.

“Hannie!” you squealed, scandalized.

“It’s just a question!” he coughed out a silly giggle.

“We could try that next,” you shrugged.

“Mm, but we could do that later,” he said, stroking one of your arms languidly. “I want to do the crazy shit. Ever had sex in a pool?”

“No, Hannie,” you giggled. “I don’t think that’s sanitary.”

“Maybe just a little fondling,” he shrugged with one shoulder.

You rolled your eyes dismissively. “Mmn,” you drew out your hum this time. “I want to do it in an open space some day,” you mumbled.

“Like in a beach, or something?” he mused.

“No–not a beach. I don’t like sand sticking to my skin,” you shuddered.

Jeonghan found that cute, and his smile made tiny dimples show on his chin. “Then where, baby? We could go camping.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered, lost in his sweet eyes. “With Josh too.”

“Of course, princess,” he conceded, wanting nothing else but to make you happy. “Now, could you stop the recording, please?” he chuckled again. “I really don’t want to cut out more footage.”

“Okay, okay,” you huffed, moving to reach out for the button to stop the recording, thinking of what Joshua’s reaction would be if he heard the conversation you just had with Jeonghan.

Joshua stood alone in the balcony of his hotel room, sitting on a dusty chair. Biting the tip of his thumb, he waited on the line for you to pick up the call.

“Hi beautiful,” he mumbled, starting to fidget with a loose thread of his sweats.

“Hi handsome!” you chirped right away.

“How are you, baby?” he sighed, heart, stammering uncontrollably in his chest.

“I’m good, I was working on my draft,” you replied, and he could tell by your tone alone that you were in a good mood.

He closed his eyes briefly. He could not do this to you.

“That sounds good,” he replied. “Hey–”

“How are you, Josh?” you asked.

“I’m fine, baby. Just tired,” he croaked.

“You sound tired,” you pointed.

“Yeah, I just got to the room. I’ve had a ton of work these past few days. And tomorrow a show, and can’t sleep right,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you try?” you asked, sighing a smile. “I know, I’m the one to talk, but you usually don’t have issues sleeping.”

“Yeah it’s just that… I want to talk to you about something,” he drew in a breath, thinking of how to go over the thing that haunted his mind.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” you waited as he gathered his thoughts, then: “Is this about the video?” you asked promptly.

“You—do you know about that?” he let go of a huge exhale. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Josh,” you replied. “I just want to know that you’re alright.”

“A-are you—what do you mean it doesn’t matter?” he frowned.

“Nobody knows it’s me, right?” you mused. “Aside from the people who know that is me in the photos, nobody knows.”

“But they’re saying awful things about you,” he mumbled, brimming with remorse.

“I haven’t seen any,” you replied, and he knew by your tone that you shrugged. “Even if I did, I don’t care, Josh,” you insisted. “The only thing I care about is you.”

“I… I am not doing okay,” the confession made a knot in his throat. “You know I didn’t want anything like this to happen.”

There was a pause. Joshua felt his own heart beating in his throat.

“Babe, we both knew this would happen. At least I was aware of that when I started dating a popular rock singer,” you giggled sweetly. “That’s why I don’t let it affect me.”

“But what about…”

“My career?” you sighed heavily. “I don’t know yet, nothing has changed so I won’t worry about it.”

Joshua lied perplexed at your nonchalance. “Okay…”

“Do you feel better now?” you asked, your tone sugary and warm. “I don’t want you to stress over things you can’t control,” you reminded him.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, bringing his other hand to cover his face. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“There is nothing to forgive here,” you replied. “I love you, I wouldn’t get mad at you for something like this.”

“I love you too, bunny,” he replied. And even though your words did alleviate part of the turbulence in his heart, there was one thing that remained, one thing he needed to talk to you about.

But he could push it down. For now.

Joshua went back inside, closing the door to the balcony and drew the blinds down. Throwing himself to the hard bed of the hotel room, he ignored the busy noise from the streets outside the window.

The lights were off, so he thought of trying to sleep. It was early, so that could give him ample time to try to fall asleep. He closed his eyes, slowing down his breathing. The buzzing noise from outside, and the normal hotel room sounds were distracting. That and the cold, firmness of the mattress.

What he would give to sleep next to you, he thought. To be wrapped by your warmth, to hear those sweets sounds you make, to feel your body pressed against his.

He sighed heavily. The screen of his phone lit up, and that was reason enough to give up trying.

The notification was from Jeonghan. It was another video. This one was longer than any of those he already had uploaded to the shared private folder.

From the thumbnail, Joshua got a sudden rush of excitement. A distraction for the night. It was as if Jeonghan knew what Joshua needed.

The video was one of the most daring that you have sent him so far. Between car sex, public sex and such, this one was where he could see just how far Jeonghan could take you. You were on top of Jeonghan, pleasuring him with a toy.

Joshua saw in your face how entranced you were in the moment, pushing the toy in and out of him, smiling softly whenever Jeonghan moaned raunchily. Then, when you inserted the other end of the toy inside you, and started moving your hips on him, Joshua could not resist himself any longer.

He begun toying with his own dick, looking at Jeonghan’s dripping with precum. His hands on your ass, guiding your thrusts inside him. You pushed one of his thighs to his chest, picking the pacing of your hips against his.

A moan bubbled in Joshua’s chest, shuddering with overwhelming pleasure as you begun stroking Jeonghan’s cock, continuing to push the toy inside him, making the man moan obscenely.

For a moment, Joshua was not sure why he felt this aroused. Was it because of how you were fucking Jeonghan? Was it because he wanted to be in Jeonghan’s place? Or was it because he wanted to be in your place?

The thoughts swam in his mind, but he knew he had been holding them for a while now. However, he ignored tried pushing them away, tucking his hand beneath his sweats and boxers, pulling out his cock to alleviate the pressure building up.

He released a sigh between his teeth, caressing his hard cock. He watched your hips moving on him, Jeonghan’s face riddled with pleasure, your hand stroking him at the same pace of your thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joshua gritted.

“God, baby… I’m g-gonna come,” Jeonghan gasped lewdly, letting out a long, raspy groan.

You were moaning with Jeonghan, both looking at each other as you came apart in the couch. The sight was so alluring, so lewd that Joshua felt like moaning with you and Jeonghan, knowing that there was no turning back from this.

He pumped himself faster, the wet sounds created by his own hand on his cock complimented the sounds from your skin slapping against Jeonghan’s, your hand on his cock, your moans, Jeonghan’s moans. Ropes of cum spurted from him at the same time Jeonghan came in the video, driving that confusion deeper inside his brain.

Panting, Joshua stared at the screen, replaying the video, trying to figure out why he felt that blow to his heart.

Was it jealousy? What was it?

Joshua stared at the lights hanging from the ceiling. The brick walls surrounding him were adorned with provocative art, there was a drum set to his left, his guitar sitting in front of him in a stand.

The studio was owned by one of his friends. When Midnight Haze made a stop in the city, Min Yoongi was the first to call them, offering to talk about music while having some drinks. While the other guys went out to buy booze, Joshua fell behind, deciding to rest in the meantime.

He was splayed on a sofa. Cadaver style, hands clasped on his chest.

Well, he felt like dying indeed. That is how bad his anxiety got. Dangerous thoughts swam in his mind, but he blew them away with a sigh.

It had gone dark. The studio was littered with the remnants of the booze the guys had. Vernon decided to call it a night, drunkenly heading back to his hotel room. Jihoon and Yoongi were on the rooftop having a smoke.

Kim Taehyung gathered his long wavy hair with his hands, brushing it back and messily, grabbing the band he trapped with his teeth and securing his hair in half a ponytail. He had started touring with his band Green Nocturne, opening for Midnight Haze for the upcoming shows.

Searching his side, he found his phone between the cushions of the smelly couch and unlocked it, finding the folder with the series of videos of you and Jeonghan, and videos of himself.

He quickly closed the app, heart jolting nervously in his chest.

“So, what do you want to do?” he released a sigh, crossing his arms on his chest.

Joshua raised his eyebrows in question. “I thought you were showing me some lyrics?”

“Ah, yeah, pfff, right,” he replied, humming as he searched for something, patting the pockets of his jeans, and then looking around.

Joshua moved from the old couch to sit on one corner of a large table, grabbing his tablet where he wrote lyrics or notes for his music.

“Where is that fucking thing,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath. “I swear if I lost it again…”

“This is the one I was telling you about,” Joshua pushed the tablet across the table to the side where Taehyung was standing.

The man stopped his search for his phone and took one look at the screen. “Oh, is this it?” he sent a glance and then read the screen, his fingers grazing the pages where Joshua poured a little bit of his heart.

He nodded a thing that Taehyung did not see.

“Dude, why are you getting rid of these?” Taehyung frowned, his eyes meeting Joshua’s. “These are good! I can even imagine a sound to these. A Midnight Haze sound, not my sound.”

Joshua shook his head slowly. “They’re too specific.”

“Is this because of that viral video?” Taehyung’s gaze softened with shame. “Yeah, I saw it,” he explained before Joshua could even ask. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s fucking bullshit, man.”

“It’s true.”

The man paused, eyes flickering on Joshua’s features.

“It’s true, everything they said about me,” Joshua was rigid with rage, but he tried not to let it show in his eyes. “You even saw it, man. The night of the party.”

“I saw nothing,” Taehyung shrugged with ease. “What I saw was two people having fun, loving each other. It is none of my business.”

Joshua knew that Taehyung had seen you hand in hand with Jeonghan, and he also saw you exchange a steamy moment in a secluded hallway. Joshua let out a sigh. “I appreciate that, but that’s why I can’t use these,” he pointed at the screen with the tip of his nose. “I can’t have more online theories about her.”

Taehyung let out a thinking sound. “I don’t want to take something so close to you, man,” he smiled shyly. “You shouldn’t be afraid of using them.”

That felt like a needle piercing his heart. “I can’t,” the feeling made his voice quiver, reducing it to a whisper. He had to protect you. And Jeonghan.

“Can I ask?” Taehyung sat on the corner of the table too, so now they were both facing each other.

“Sure,” he shrugged. He trusted Taehyung, and right now, he needed a friend who was closer to his career and his personal life.

“Are you guys… is she really your ex?” he asked, the tip of his tongue pushing his lower lip from the inside.

“No,” he shook his head, the question sent an inevitable shudder through him.

“Is she his girlfriend? Jeonghan’s?” he asked slowly, but the look on his face told Joshua that he was getting a broader idea of where this was going.

“We’re in a polycule,” he explained, trying to come off as nonchalant as he could, but in reality, he still struggled to be open with something that was so precious to him. “I don’t want to make it public, so.”

“Ah,” he mouthed, nodding his head. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Can I ask, then?” Joshua returned, cautiously sending him a knowing look.

“Ask away.”

“How did you manage it?” he rolled his eyes, searching for words. “Your relationship with Baek?”

“Well, it was easy because everyone wanted to pair me with every woman I even so glanced at,” Taehyung huffed with slight annoyance. “So the world resorted to making me a womanizer and Baekhyun was just my best friend, you know.”

Joshua nodded in silence, even if that answered his question, he still felt like there was something missing.

“But then Jimin came along, and everything started getting messy,” Taehyung added, much as if he realized that there was something unanswered lingering in the air. “It sort of died down when I started dating Mimi. But I guess that didn’t stick either.”

Even though there was not much to correlate that situation to his own, Joshua felt some sense of semblance. Having a humane conversation with someone who understood what distress comes with this kind of life brought a soothing hug to his heart.

“Is it fun at least? Being in a poly,” Taehyung smiled slightly as he asked.

“Fun?” Joshua uttered, as though the word were foreign to him. “Yeah, I mean, he’s my best friend and I love her. So.”

“What do you mean?” he cocked one eyebrow. “Oh, you mean you’re only with her and not Jeonghan as well?”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“I assumed because of Jeonghan…” now he looked even more intrigued. “So you’re not bi as well?”

Even though the questions were heavily personal, Joshua did not feel uncomfortable. “Nope,” he frowned. “Well…”

There was a silence. Kim Taehyung waited, looking at Joshua as he gathered his thoughts with his heart strumming hard in his chest. To finally voice his thoughts about this aloud was panic-inducing for him, but for some reason, he was sure he could trust Taehyung.

“I don’t know,” Joshua let out finally, panic hugging his heart tightly. “It’s weird. Because there is no one else I’d rather share my partner with but him. I think I would have gone crazy if Bunny told me she had feelings for a different person. But when she told me about Jeonghan… I understood. Like it was meant to be.”

For a moment, it felt as though he were alone in the room, letting his deepest thoughts come out without any remorse, nor fear that he would be judged. That was the moment he knew.

“But I did feel jealousy. Part of me was certain that it was because I could not tolerate that Bunny had feelings for another man,” Joshua’s gaze swam upwards, finding the smoke-yellowed ceiling. “But I know now that my jealousy also came from the way that Jeonghan dropped everything to be with her. He was willing to lose our friendship for her, he cared about her, loved her, and… I was jealous of that.”

“But—,” Taehyung shook his head ever so slightly, much as if he were discarding a thought. “Sorry. I just need to ask, are you jealous that he’s paying attention to her… do you want that attention for yourself?”

Joshua found the strength to nod his head. “I think that it was when Jeonghan started to fall in love for her when I begun to wonder. What if…” he paused, his courage dying down for a minute. But he pushed himself: “What if I also want to receive the same love and attention that he gives her? Why do I want that?”

Taehyung showed him a wide smile. “Why don’t you try and talk to him about it? You know, go for it,” he offered his solution.

“He’s my best friend. What if it doesn’t go the way I want it to?” he shrugged in a defeated way. “I don’t want to make things even more awkward.”

The man huffed with genuine disbelief. “But you said it!” he giggled. “He is your best friend. I am pretty sure that he will understand.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Joshua insisted, his head tilting to one side.

“You never know if you never try,” his friend replied, a winning grin spreading on his lips.

“True,” Joshua conceded.

“Do you think she’ll understand?” Taehyung asked cautiously.

Joshua remembered the day you told both him and Jeonghan that you would be okay if things went that road. “Yeah. Of course. She’d have no problem with it.”

Now it was just a matter of his indecision.

“Then just try,” his friend nodded at him in encouragement.

He did not want to lose what he had with you and Jeonghan. He did not want things to take a turn for the worse.

You were sitting down on the couch, reading a book while sipping on a hot cup of tea.

The room was lit with a warm light coming from the lamp standing beside the couch, vibrant in color and soft tones of jazz coming from the flat screen. The whole apartment smelled of detergent and fabric softener, and the hum emitted by the dryer sounded far in the background.

You sighed, turning a page over, and continued reading. You had been immersed in this book for a while, every now and then you would express it on your face, pouting, eyes widening, or even gasping sometimes.

That was Joshua’s entertainment sometimes. He would sit on the armchair across from you and pretend to play some chords on his guitar, but in reality, all he did was watch you. Study the way your eyes would fly through the lines written on the pages.

But this time around, you noticed. “Are you okay, babe?” you asked, lifting your gaze from the book as you took one sip from your tea.

“Just watching you, Ms. Hong,” he mumbled with a soft smile.

“I know,” you smiled knowingly. “I noticed, Mr. Hong.”

“I’m fine, baby,” he gave you a slow blink.

In his head, Joshua was cluttered with thoughts of the future. He wished he got the chance to meet you earlier in his life before he made the decision to give himself into his plans of being a musician.

The nagging urge to quit everything and just continue to have this quiet life with you haunted him. Sometimes the impulse overtook him, sending a rush of anxiety through his veins, much as if he needed to stand up and run away from something. He knew what it was, it was time coming to an end.

Granted, he never really felt like this was his life. He settled in with you, but this still felt like it was your apartment. It was your couch, your flatscreen. He just brought in his clothes and his guitar.

He felt like a guest in someone else’s life. Like this was life’s way to mock him. A what if in which Joshua Hong never dedicated his life to making music. This is what would have become of him. He would have been with you freely and loving you aloud.

Who knows, maybe he would have given you a ring already. Maybe he would have asked you to join him in an adventure together for the rest of your lives, far away from the spotlight.

You rose to your feet, leaving your book behind and approached him with a determination that he loved to see in you. He lifted his gaze to your eyes as you stood before him.

Carefully, you took his acoustic guitar from his grasp, placing it on the couch and turned to him. Joshua looked at you expectantly, knowing what would come next. He just opened his arms, embracing you as you sat on his lap.

“What is going on inside that head of yours?” you asked, eyeing him with curiosity as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You,” he breathed, heart beating faster in his chest.

That made you smile. “I’m here, Josh,” you giggled.

He brought a finger to your face, touching the tip of your nose affectionately. “I’m just thinking that you’re cute,” he scrunched his nose, smiling.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied, batting your eyelashes as you looked at his eyes, then his lips. “You are cute too.”

In the distance, the dryer went off with a short tune, signaling that the clothes were dry and ready to unload. The sound drove your eyes elsewhere, and you made a motion to stand up from his lap.

“No, no,” he whispered. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll just take a minute, Josh,” you said, giggling at him cutely when his arms pulled you closer to him. “Clingy,” you whispered, using your finger to touch the tip of his nose.

Joshua Hong opened his eyes, groaning with exhaustion against the hard pillows of the hotel bed. A dull pain wrapped around his heart, hurting even more with each second that passed and he slowly came to grips with reality.

He turned over, face down on the mattress, pushing his face against the pillows to feel something else other than the loneliness gripping him. He hugged himself, trying not to cry at the memory of you still clinging to his mind, seeing your face in his dreams, hearing your voice, he felt you in his dreams. It felt too real.

It was not a dream entirely, that did happen sometime before he left on tour. That day, he was thinking of quitting the band, quitting that life altogether so that he could start a life with you. The anxiety he felt for leaving you and his quiet life with you was eating him whole, just like it was now.

It was still early; he could just quit. They could find another singer, another person to fill in his shoes. Hell, maybe that person would be more fitting for Midnight Haze and would do a more decent job than him. Maybe that person will be happier in his place.

The pressure burst in his chest, like a punch in his gut, robbing him of air in an instant. Joshua pushed himself from the mattress, drawing in a big gulp of air, then another, then another.

The veins of his forearms begun to flare, arms shaking on the neat bed sheets, losing strength to prop his body up. His vision turned blurry, a loud buzzing sound blocking his eardrums, the only thing letting him know he was a live was the hard thumping of his heart against his ribcage.

He managed to turn over, gripping his chest with one hand as he tried at calming himself down, trying to slow down his own sharp intakes of breath to slower and deeper ones.

What snapped him out of it was the buzzing of his head dying down at the loud chiming of his phone. It took him some seconds to yank his gaze from the empty void in front of him and he looked at the screen of his phone. Yoon Jeonghan’s photo displaying on it.

“Joshujiiii,” Jeonghan chanted as soon as Joshua picked his call.

Joshua frowned when the sound sent a soothing feeling inside him, calming his heart at once. “He-hey, Hannie,” he croaked.

“Oh, did I just wake you up?” his best friend giggled. “Sorry about that, I can call later.”

“No, no,” he muttered quickly, trying to use the conversation to drive his attention away from his worries. “What’s up?”

“Are you coming over?” he asked, seriousness now lacing his tone.

“When? Tonight?”

“Yep. I know you didn’t say it as a joke,” he said, and by the way he pronounced each syllable, Joshua knew his friend was munching on something.

“I wasn’t being serious when I said it,” Joshua explained with sigh. “Bu-but there is a possibility,” he admitted.

“I knew it,” Jeonghan muttered with some kind of victory. “So? Are you taking a flight here? Then we could go back to where your big show is, all of us.”

“Yeah,” Joshua muttered weakly, bringing a hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” he imagined his friend raising his eyebrows. “Well, I could find a plane ticket for you without Princess finding out. We could make it into a surprise for her.”

A smile crept on his face hearing Jeonghan bringing you up like this. His best friend, his partner in crime who loved you so much it warmed Joshua’s own heart. “Send me prices and everything. I’ll send you my details.”

“Sure,” he chirped. “You know, she will love seeing you. She misses you so bad even I’m starting to miss you too.”

Joshua was no idiot. He knew the reason behind that choice of words. You were worried about him, and even though you would not ask Jeonghan to intervene, this was his way of telling Joshua what was going on in your mind.

“Jeonghan,” he paused. “I’m fine.”

“No, you don’t sound fine,” Jeonghan huffed. “I can hear the snot in your voice. You’ve been crying.”

“Agh, really, Jeonghan. Sometimes I wish you weren’t so fucking tactless,” he groaned, rubbing two pads of his fingers on his brow.

“I’m just telling it how it is,” he imagined his friend shrugging with ease. “I wish you weren’t so fucking emotionally constipated.”

“Yeah, well not everyone can get what they wish,” he muttered with a sharp jab piercing his gut.

“Now you’re being emo, again,” Jeonghan retorted with a low chuckle that died a second before his tone went back to serious. “Seriously, Shuji, is everything okay? Do you want to talk?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joshua quickly said. “We can talk later.”

“Mmn, okay. I’ll send you the info about the ticket in a bit.”

“I’ll send you my details,” Joshua paused. “Hannie?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Joshuji,” he replied, seemingly knowing about Joshua’s situation without even being there, just by the sound of his voice. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You stretched your arms over your head, releasing a long groan as your muscles complained with you after sitting down on your chair for four hours without breaks. Content with your progress, even though it was little, you pushed yourself away from the desk and rose to your feet.

The mug had been left empty, aside from the bag of tea in it. You grabbed it as you made your way out of the office and went to the kitchen. You strode on the floor with your fuzzy socks on, feeling a sense of accomplishment at seeing your recently cleaned apartment.

Jeonghan would get out from work in a couple of hours and come to see you. That was the little routine you both had. You worked the same amount of hours that he did, and when he came home, you would stop typing and spend time with him.

You smiled to yourself. The day you would go visit Joshua drew nearer too, and it made you excited that you were going with Jeonghan too. It felt nice to have a stronger relationship with both of them, and it was also nice to see that they were closer.

As the electric kettle made a bubbly noise boiling the water, you tapped your fingers on the counter. Should I bring dinner for us tonight? Jeonghan’s incoming message snapped you out of your train of thought.

Just come straight here. I want to see your face. Read your message, not caring that you were acting clingy already. Even though you saw each other nearly everyday, you missed him when he was not around.

Alright. I’m on my way, then.

Your tummy twisted in excitement. Already? I thought you were clocking off in two hours. You replied instantly.

The kettle went off with a soft click, exuding a thin column of vapor as you poured the boiling water into one of your favorite mugs. When you finished preparing your tea how you liked it, you turned to your screen, finding no reply from your boyfriend.

Maybe he is just messing with you. Yoon Jeonghan liked to do that.

But then, the smart-lock of the front door beeped, the handle turning, and you knew he was not messing with you. “Babe?” you called as you made your way to the entrance of your apartment.

“Yeah?”

You stopped cold at the sight you found. Joshua closed the door behind him, a sweet smile painting his lips as he took a step towards you. You watched him with your mouth hanging open, heartbeat racing frantically in surprise.

“Hi beautiful,” Joshua muttered, his gaze swimming on the features of your face, noticing that you were in a mild shock. “I’m here, baby.”

“You’re here,” you parroted shakily, eyes brimming with big hot tears. “Oh god. You’re here...”

His strong arms wrapped around you in a hug, quickly sweeping you off your feet. And you clung to his neck, holding onto him as though he were a dream and would go away at any given second.

“Surprise,” he muttered with a tiny voice, and that was when you noticed the slight quiver, the quiet sniffling when he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I missed you so much,” you muttered, bringing a hand to feel the back of his head, using your arms still around him to hug him tightly.

“I missed you too,” he muttered, his words muffled by your hair and your clothes, but you noticed even so, that his voice had thickened.

“How are you here? I thought…” you trailed off. Jeonghan.

“I had a little help,” he replied, putting you back to the floor. “We wanted to give you a surprise.”

As you parted, you gaze fell on his features, marked by the weight of his tiredness. The color of his skin faded. The bags under his eyes were visible and darker like never before. But on top of that, the very air about him felt worn out, and on the brink of falling asleep at any given moment.

“Baby…” you whispered, your focus falling on his face, which you cupped with the palms of your hands. “Don’t you want to have a nap? You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he frowned, his eyes shifting from your face to the rest of your body. “I just want to be with you. Jeonghan will be here soon too. We could go get dinner together or have something delivered.”

You knew Joshua well enough to know that he was trying to avoid something, and given the situation with the recent rumours surrounding you. Thinking that it was all too likely, you gave him a smile, grabbing his hand. “Come.”

He sighed but went with you either way. “Baby, I’m fine,” he insisted, and you knew by his tone alone that he was smiling. “I don’t need to sleep.”

“We’re not sleeping,” you turned so that he could see you grinning meaningfully at him.

Joshua giggled. “Ah, okay, okay,” he said, using his hand in yours to pull you closer to his body. “Come here, baby.”

You lead him to the bathroom, where you promptly started a shower, turning to him. “Let me take care of you, okay?” you asked sultrily, batting your eyelashes at him.

Joshua knew that there was more to your intentions with just one look. But his brain was so burned out that he could not figure out what you were planning, so he just nodded with his head, mouthing okay.

“You must be so exhausted, baby,” you sighed, toying with the buttons of his plaid shirt as you undid each one.

In no time, you were sliding the cotton fabric off his shoulders, moving to tug the belt of his black denims free. “I am,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a long pause. “So tired.”

“I’m going to take this off, okay?” you asked when he blindly stepped out of his jeans, feeling your fingers curling around the band of the waist band of his boxers.

“Okay,” he replied mechanically, reaching out to hold onto whatever part of your body he could find.

His hands found the curve of your waist, over the long t-shirt you wore. Thinking that he should reciprocate, his fists grabbed the t-shirt, hiking it up your torso and removing it with one motion.

Seeing you naked for the first time in what felt like ages was surreal to him. Even though he spent most of his nights looking at videos of you, to see you in real life was different. The camera could not capture your beautiful skin, or the beauty marks he loved so much.

“Let’s get you in,” you whispered, noticing the aloof look in his eyes.

“Are you going to shower with me?” he asked dumbly, letting you push him into the shower.

“Of course, silly goose,” you smiled at him sweetly, removing your panties before stepping with him. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

His heart swelled with so much love he was sure it would burst soon. “Yeah, you did,” he replied with a dazed smile, leaning his head to get his hair soaked with the warm stream of water.

“Good boy,” you whispered, grabbing the bottle of shampoo, sinking your fingers in his dark hair to wash it with slow motions.

He closed his eyes, deciding to give himself to you wholly. He was safe now, he was with you.

“I love you,” he shuddered. “I love you so much.”

His hands found your waist again, grabbing you as if to support himself.

“I love you too, baby,” you replied.

He opened his eyes again, afraid this would be another nightmare tormenting him with glimpses of you.

You saw something flash his dark eyes for a second before he eased back into the water when you rinsed his hair. Your hands were on him now, rubbing soap everywhere with ginger touches here and there.

“Hey,” you hummed. You were washing his torso, moving closer to him, his hands gripped your waist a little tighter, pressing your front to him, making you feel the firmness of his growing erection.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he let out a shy giggle, lowering his gaze to yours.

“I can,” you mumbled, sneaking a soapy hand between your bodies.

Joshua supressed a shudder when your fingers circled his hard shaft, stroking it idly as you watched him subdue himself to you. “Baby,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “God, I missed you so much,” he sighed raggedly.

“I missed you too, Josh,” you whispered, pumping him faster, adding more pressure to your grip on his shaft.

He pressed his face on yours, reaching your lips with his own with a tiny groan. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” he confessed with a sheepish look.

“It’s okay, baby. This is about you,” you hummed softly. “Let go for me, can you do that?”

He nodded with his head, clutching your waist tighter.

“Good boy,” you breathed. “Focus on me, baby. Do you like what I’m doing with my hands?” you pumped him faster, your fingers cupping his balls, massaging them.

“Yeah,” he shuddered hard against you, closing his eyes to savor the pleasure brimming inside him. “Please…”

“Let go,” you muttered. “Come for me, Josh.”

A strangled noise came out of his parted lips. Joshua stopped gripping you, his hand snapping to find the wall behind you, anchoring himself before he followed your command. The last thing he did to help himself reach his high was meeting your lips with a long, sloppy kiss, wet in drool and the water showering over you.

He groaned in your mouth as he came in your hand. You stopped pumping him once he finished spilling himself on your skin. “That’s it, that’s it, baby,” you whispered in praise. “How does that feel?”

“So good,” he blurted, sighing a euphoric feeling. “You don’t know how many times I wished to have your hand instead of mine,” he mumbled out the words swiftly. “I missed you so much, I need you with me.”

“I’m here, baby. I missed you too,” you said. “Let’s finish washing, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “And then it’s your turn.”

You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

You finished washing up thoroughly, and then as soon as you finished drying your skin Joshua pulled you in a hug, sweeping you off your feet and a second later, your body hit the mattress.

Joshua climbed on top of you, but before he could even lower his body on yours, you pushed him off, easily turning him over, his back pressed against the covers. On a usual night, that would have been impossible to achieve. But given that he was tired, he did not expect you to do that.

You straddled his waist while kissing him, his hands roamed all over your back, squeezing your skin, he hugged you as you pressed your chest against his.

The accumulated tiredness from the nights when Joshua could not sleep had started to reach a breaking point for him. You could feel it in his kisses, languid and messy. He groaned when you tried to break from him, urging you to keep going.

“Stubborn,” you whispered with a tiny smile, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead with your hand.

“You’re the stubborn one,” he replied with a gruff tone. “I’m fine.”

“Sleep, baby,” you paused, looking at his beautiful eyes. “We can do this in the morning.”

Joshua thought that your words might have magic in them because his will caved in a second. The heaviness in his limbs pushed him to nod his head in agreement. “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “But only if you stay here with me.”

“Of course, baby,” you giggled. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

You got under the covers, naked and hair still damp but you did not care at all. Once you were next to him, you intertwined your legs with his, lying your head on his chest as he hugged your body.

“Baby?” he blinked lazily.

“Yes, Josh?” you lifted your head to look at him.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered, his eyelids falling heavily.

“I won’t,” you reassured him, caressing his cheek with gentle strokes. “I promise.”

He blinked one final time, and like a switch that went off, you saw the muscles of his face relax, falling asleep peacefully in your bed with you.

Some hours later, you moved from his embrace, lying in a normal position but still close to Joshua. You wanted to let him have a nice restoring sleep, so you thought of moving away from him a bit.

But his hands found you beneath the covers, tugging you closer, or hugging you back to him in his sleep. He was so deeply asleep that he did not hear the soft beeping of the smart lock, the door pushed open and then it closed with care.

Jeonghan’s steps were careful, probably intuiting that you were in the bedroom asleep. You saw his head peak in the doorframe of the bedroom, making you lift your hand to wave at him.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, approaching the foot of the bed. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” you patted your hand next to you, on the space that was left free.

“Okay,” he whispered, moving to the side.

Jeonghan paused before he went under the covers with you, finding you and Joshua utterly naked. “Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, suppressing a smile. “Couldn’t you wait for me?” he muttered teasingly.

“Shut up,” you reproached with a hushed tone. “Josh was tired, so he fell asleep before we could do anything,” you explained.

“I’m just playing, baby,” he smiled, his gaze finding Joshua. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you frowned, still caged by his heavy arms. “He was so tired. Couldn’t even speak straight.”

“So, what? Are we having a slumber party?” he grinned.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if he’ll wake up right now.”

“We could order food if he does.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Okaaay,” he sighed, pulling out his phone and lowering the brightness of his screen before he dived in the food delivery app.

The dimmed white light coming from the screen illuminated his features, letting you see his perfectly cute nose, his beauty mark that sat on his cheek, his rosy lips, the lower tucked inside his mouth.

“What?” he noticed, directing a quick look at you.

“I’m just looking at your face,” you whispered.

“Is there something on it?” he asked, running his palm over his cheeks.

“No, you dummy,” you said. “I just missed your face.”

“You saw me this morning, princess,” he giggled goofily.

“You were supposed to say I missed your face too, princess,” you mimicked his tone to the best of your ability but failed miserably.

“But I didn’t miss you,” he said, trying to sound serious. “I just saw you this morning.”

“I take it back, I didn’t miss your face,” you pushed him away with a hand.

“Come here, you little crybaby,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand.

“You-mmf,” you were quickly shut up by his lips, sealed by his in a chaste kiss.

“What?” he dared, planting another kiss, then another.

“You fucking tease,” you muttered, pushing his face away from yours.

His mouth fell open in surprise. “Me?” he pointed a finger to his chest.

“Who else?” you hissed. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Oh, baby, you don’t even know,” he grinned darkly at you. “Now, why don’t you stay quiet for a minute? You’re going to wake him up,” he nodded at the man deeply asleep behind you.

You turned on the bed, lying on your back. Joshua’s arm hugged you just below your breasts, pulling you closer by instinct when you moved.

“So now you’re going to ignore me?” Jeonghan huffed a puffy air, clicking his tongue.

You stared at the ceiling, dead set on keeping your act up.

But you should have done better than playing with The Yoon Jeonghan.

At first, he just smirked, but as the seconds went by and you pretended to ignore him, the smile wore off. He propped his elbow on the pillow, leaning his head on his fist, intent on watching your face.

Then, he slid a hand on your tummy, he did nothing else with it, he just parked it there, his palm covering your belly button. You rejected his touch, but he caught sight of your eyelids fluttering slightly.

“Don’t ignore me,” he drew out the words with a low hum. He lifted his palm, but his fingers lingered on your skin, dragging the tips on your tummy in slow, gentle motions.

You said nothing, but as his fingers trailed on your lower abdomen, you swallowed hard. Jeonghan smiled, loving how well you responded to his touch. Your warm skin prickled, tingling at the wake of his fingertips drawing circles, going lower and lower.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he pouted. “Did you get angry because I called you a crybaby?”

The tone he used was mocking you, but you could not pay attention to it. His fingers were so close to your mound that you felt the need to swallow back a moan, the strangled sound coiling in your throat drew his attention.

“What was that, baby?” he asked playfully.

Yanking your gaze from the ceiling, you met his, darkened by lust and mischief. The smirk that drew on his face was of silent victory.

“What, do you like this?” he motioned to his hand drawing lazy circles on your mound, his fingers grazing the line of your pussy lips. “Does this get you horny?

You blinked at him, parting your lips in desire but no words came out.

“I bet you’re wet already,” he whispered, a glint lighting up his dark eyes.

You moved your thighs ever so slightly, letting one finger between your pussy lips.

“God, baby, right next to Joshua?” he whispered, a devilish smirk curving his lips. “What is your boyfriend going to say if he wakes up?”

You said absolutely nothing, your eyelids fluttered when he ran the tip of his finger between your folds.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as though he knew already that he would find your pussy sopping wet already. “Who would’ve thought that you’re such a slut?”

You gasped silently, drawing your eyebrows in. Jeonghan’s finger dipped in your core, his own mouth falling open when he sank one finger in, then another, playing with your wetness.

“Hear that?” he asked with a whisper, moving his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, creating a loud wet noise with each thrust.

In the past weeks, you had been having so much sex that your body was extra sensitive.

“Princess, you’re insatiable,” Jeonghan smiled, throwing a look at Joshua, who was still asleep. “Do you want more?”

Your gaze followed his, finding Joshua peacefully unaware that you were getting fingered by Jeonghan. You nodded.

“More?” Jeonghan confirmed. “More fingers?”

You shook your head silently.

“Mmn, princess, you’re going to wake Joshua up if I give you more,” he cooed softly, moving his fingers inside you, massaging your walls. He pulled them out, driving the pads of his fingers to your clit, which was already swollen with arousal.

You flinched slightly under Joshua’s embrace when Jeonghan’s fingertips started moving on your clit. You locked your gaze on Jeonghan, silently pleading for more.

Jeonghan took the challenge, stopping the motion of his fingers on you and sank under the covers, carefully placing himself between your legs without disrupting Joshua’s sleep. You closed your eyes, feeling his hands on your inner thighs, spreading your pussy lips for his mouth.

The first lick set your body ablaze. You tensed up, gritting your teeth as Jeonghan ran his tongue flatly on your folds, licking your juices up, kissing your clit slowly.

As soon as your back stirred on the mattress, Joshua moved. He hummed softly, making your tummy twist, a hand flying to find Jeonghan’s head, but the man did not take the hint, or if he did, he did not give a fuck.

Jeonghan continued giving your pussy broad strokes with his tongue, not caring of the wet sounds he was making.

“Mmn,” Joshua pressed his face on your pillow finding your cheek, which he kissed softly.

“Josh,” you mumbled, the sound whiny, making it obvious that you were aroused.

Jeonghan pushed his hands on your inner thighs, spreading you more to dip his tongue inside you with a low groan.

“What’s ha–,” Joshua lifted his head from your pillow, spotting the bulge beneath the covers, between your legs.

“Baby,” you sighed a moan.

Joshua watched the body beneath the covers for a few seconds, confusedly finding your face. The last traces of slumber left him, coming alive with a slow smirk drawing on his face. He pushed the covers off, uncovering your body, and Jeonghan between your legs, eating you out. “Couldn’t you wait for me?”

You let out a lazy giggle, finding it amusing that Jeonghan had said the same thing half an hour before. “Wanna join?” you asked with a sweet hum, raking your fingertips through Jeonghan’s scalp.

Joshua propped his body on one elbow, lying back to watch Jeonghan working on your pussy. “How do you want me to join in?” he asked, his voice still gruff and lazy.

“Kiss me?” you asked with a sweet tone.

The man obeyed without a second thought, bringing a hand to cup your face, kissing you gently. Jeonghan grabbed your legs, hiking them on his shoulders, dipping two fingers back into your pussy, and kissing your clit with his mouth.

You moaned in Joshua’s mouth, his hands cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and tugging your nipples.

“You’re close, baby?” Joshua asked, enjoying the sound so much he felt himself growing hard.

“I want more,” you gasped.

Joshua smirked, dipping his head over your chest, trapping one of your nipples in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

“God!” you squealed, hands busy grabbing both Jeonghan and Joshua’s hair. Your thighs tensed more in pleasure, drawing out a long moan as one of your boyfriends licked and kissed your nipples, and the other your clit.

“I’m coming,” you sighed, closing your eyes in bliss. “God, god, god, I’m close, I’m close!” you let out a strangled sound, jaw going slack as you climaxed below Jeonghan and Joshua, neither slowing down nor stopping.

You thrashed, moaned, and cried out each of their names lewdly until you were breathless, teary-eyed, and limp on the mattress.

“God… that was…” you sighed, smiling as you relished in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

They both lifted their heads from your body at the same time. Jeonghan ran the back of his hand over his chin, wiping away your arousal and his own spit, while Joshua acted on impulse, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and sticking his fingers in his mouth to lick the taste of you.

Jeonghan looked startled for a second, his eyes widening and lips parting. But he shook it off quickly, letting Joshua lick off your wetness. The sight was so arousing, that a moan coiled in your throat.

“Princess likes that, huh?” Jeonghan asked Joshua, pulling out his fingers from the warmth of his mouth.

“Did you like that, baby?” Joshua asked, his studded eyebrow twitching up.

“Yeah,” you sighed, smiling shyly when the sound came out more like a moan than anything else.

Jeonghan had a question etched in his eyes that only Joshua could see. But he ignored it, trying to get a hold of himself before he did more impulsive things.

“What do you want, princess?” Jeonghan asked, noticing the dazed expression on your face.

“I want you both. At the same time. You on top,” you pointed at Jeonghan, then to Joshua. “And you below me.”

“Tsk,” Jeonghan smirked, nodding his head in amazement.

But he climbed off the bed as he took his clothes off, opening the first drawer of your closet. As Jeonghan got what he needed from the drawer, he thought of the brief exchange he had with Joshua, deciding to push it far away in his mind for now. But he could not ignore, that he had liked it.

You rose to your knees, circling Joshua’s neck with your hands to bring him to your face, pressing a warm kiss in his mouth. “I liked that,” you whispered, referring to Joshua licking Jeonghan’s fingers.

“I know,” he husked with a half-smile. “I can tell.”

Jeonghan returned with a bottle of lube, and one condom, patting the edge of the bed he motioned you over. “I want you here, Princess,” he told you.

You crawled over to him, sitting back on your heels in front of him.

Jeonghan cupped the side of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, and pressing a small kiss on your lower lip. “Be good for us,” he whispered.

“Always, Hannie,” you smiled.

“Mmn,” he hummed, keeping his quippy retort behind his grin. “Turn around and get on all fours, baby.”

You obeyed at once, getting on your hands and knees, ass to him. Jeonghan started littering your skin with kisses, his hands caressing your ass. Joshua watched quietly, one corner of his lips twitching when Jeonghan sneaked another glance his way.

“Come here, handsome,” you muttered lovingly, extending a hand to clutch his hip. Joshua was hard again, tip leaking with precum.

Joshua mimicked Jeonghan’s previous movements, cupping your face in his large hand. “Want to take me in your mouth, baby?” he taunted, reading your face.

“Yeah?” you lifted your pretty eyes to his face.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, swallowing hard when you obediently parted your lips for him.

A moan vibrated around his cock, Jeonghan kissed your pussy one more time, making your whole body jolt in surprise. “Easy, baby,” he giggled.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, running the tip of his tongue between your folds, licking up your pussy to the rim of your ass, kissing, humming against your skin.

The room grew quiet in a matter of seconds.

Joshua’s head hung back slightly, sighing out in pleasure as you sucked him off eagerly. Your tongue swirled on his cockhead, hollowing out your cheeks every time you pulled back on him. He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Jeonghan instinctively.

Joshua’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest to find Jeonghan’s eyes on him as he licked your puckered hole, a hand stroking his hard cock idly.

“God,” Joshua exhaled, closing his eyes again. You moaned around him, his hand gripping your hair right before he pulled out his cock out of your mouth with a loud groan.

He threw back his head, eyes focused on the ceiling, panting.

“Josh?” you called.

“Give me a second,” Joshua laughed languidly.

Jeonghan masked his giggle with a low hum, pulling back his mouth from your puckered hole to press the tip of his pointer finger, making you moan. “Joshuji is just out of his game, baby,” he cooed.

“Shut up,” Joshua groaned, chest heaving. “I’m not.”

“Alright, then what is it?” Jeonghan challenged. There was no smile curling his lips, Joshua found in Jeonghan’s eyes pure curiosity.

Joshua bore into him with his dark gaze. “Not now,” he warned with a cold tone.

“There is nothing wrong with admitting that you’re a quick nut,” Jeonghan stated boldly, knowing that his crude vocabulary would rattle him. “Baby will understand, right?”

“Jeonghan, why don’t you occupy your mouth again and shut the fuck up?”

“Did I hurt your feelings, altar boy?” Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, pushing another finger inside you.

“Both of you,” you groaned, torn between the fight happening and Jeonghan’s fingers in your ass. “Shut up,” you deadpanned.

“Are you ready, baby?” Jeonghan asked, spreading his fingers inside you.

“Yeah, I think I am,” you choked out.

“Get on top of Shuji, baby,” Jeonghan patted your ass lovingly.

Joshua got to the center of the bed, laying back as you crawled back to him, straddling him. He grabbed your head with his large hands, pulling you into a long, wet kiss.

You placed your forearms on the pillows, framing his head.

Jeonghan grabbed your hips roughly, lifting one hand, and bringing it down on your ass firmly. You yelped, breaking your kiss with Joshua abruptly.

Joshua smiled at you. “Someone’s jealous,” he teased, grabbing your chin with two fingers to continue kissing you.

“Tsk, jealous,” Jeonghan huffed. “Ready?”

You turned to see him, giving him a short nod.

Jeonghan rolled up the condom down his shaft, spreading the lube in both him and your hole. “You know what to do, princess.”

“Yes, Hannie,” you replied, arching your back to him.

“Good girl,” he sighed, pressing the tip of his cock in your hole, pushing one inch inside you.

“God,” you gasped, hiding your face in the crook of Joshua’s neck.

Joshua caressed your back, his fingers drawing a line down your column before he grabbed your ass, spreading you open for Jeonghan. “You’re good, baby,” he whispered, looking at Jeonghan as he sank another inch in.

Your fingers curled on the pillowcases. “Josh…” you cried out, Jeonghan’s cock filling you up a little bit more.

Jeonghan blinked lazily, biting his lip hard as he pulled back, to sink back inside you, pushing a few more inches in.

“Take it, baby,” Joshua husked, his fingers pressing the skin of your ass, still helping spread you open.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, nearly bottoming out inside you. “I’m gonna start moving,” he drawled.

“Yeah, yes, please,” you cried out, the sound muffled on Joshua’s neck.

Joshua shuddered, your breath fanning on his skin. “Can you take me, baby?” he asked.

“Mm-mmph,” you moved your head, to meet his lips with yours. “Please, Josh.”

“Hurry,” Jeonghan groaned, giving you shallow thrusts.

Joshua thought of saying something quippy.

But you sent him a look. “Don’t,” you huffed. You grabbed his cock, guiding it to your pussy.

“Okay,” Joshua whispered, suppressing a smile. He started thrusting in his cock, pushing his hips up to meet yours.

Jeonghan moaned, leaning his body forward, pushing you over too. “Fuck, god, fuuuuck,” he groaned, leaning his forehead on your nape. “Baby, you feel so good.”

The lewd sound of Jeonghan’s voice elicited a moan from Joshua. Pushing his cock faster inside you, he could feel Jeonghan’s cock inside you, moving in perfect synchronicity with his own.

Jeonghan was fully fucking you doggy style, leaning over your body as Joshua fucked into you. He pressed a hand on the pillow, the other gripping your hip, brushing against Joshua’s fingers.

“Baby,” Joshua called your name, noticing your features lost in pleasure. “You’re there?”

“Yeah,” you replied aloofly. “I’m close, babe. I’m so close…”

“Come for me,” Jeonghan choked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, not yet,” Joshua gasped, fucking into you faster. Sweat sticking to his skin, making a wet sound every time he met his hips with yours. “Wait for me, baby.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, your limbs starting to shake. “I’m there, Josh. Please… let me come.”

Jeonghan let out a ragged groan. “Come, baby, please come,” he begged, swallowing hard, pushing inside you desperately now.

Just by the sounds alone, Joshua knew his best friend was near his release. He watched as Jeonghan nipped and kissed your shoulder, eyes closed as if though he feared opening them, as though he knew Joshua would be looking.

You cried out a whiny moan. “Joshua, Joshua…” you sighed, writhing as your orgasm washed over you, teary-eyed and completely fucked out.

“Fuck, princess,” Jeonghan gasped, his thrusts slowing down as you squeezed on both men inside you.

Joshua gripped your hips tighter as he moved his lazily. “God,” he blurted as he saw you and Jeonghan come together just like in all of those videos. You squeezed around him, and he could feel Jeonghan’s cock nudged inside you, pressing against his.

You fell on top of him, walls throbbing around his cock as he spilled inside you with a blissful sigh.

Then Jeonghan fell on top of you, pulling out of you and resting his head on the pillow, beside Joshua’s head.

Joshua groaned under the weight of both your body and now Jeonghan’s. But you giggled sweetly, resting your head on the other pillow, to the other side of Jeonghan.

Joshua stared at the ceiling again, breathing hard and erratically from the exhaustion and pleasure still coursing through him. But he dared to move his face, turning it to Jeonghan to see if his best friend was awake.

With just one look, Joshua knew that Jeonghan had a million questions to ask. His eyes bore into Joshua’s, his face so close they could feel each other’s breaths.

Joshua wondered for a second if Jeonghan’s lips were as soft as yours. A thought that almost sent him into a frenzy.

“What?” Jeonghan breathed, noticing the change in Joshua’s eyes.

“Get off me,” Joshua gritted.

“Ask nicely.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Joshua demanded, but a giggle sneaked through his command.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan groaned, pushing himself off you and Joshua.

You, on the other hand, were still lost in the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm. Breathing softly on the curve of Joshua’s neck.

“We should clean up,” you said, promptly lifting your hips off his.

“Wait–,” Joshua gasped, but it was too late. Cum dripped out of you, spilling all over Joshua, and your inner thighs.

You stared at the mess for a long second.

“Tsk,” Jeonghan returned to the bedroom. “Someone has to clean that up now,” he said, lying down on the bed, next to Joshua.

Before Joshua could even say anything, you understood what Jeonghan meant immediately, leaning down to his crotch, running your tongue on his lower abdomen.

“Fuck,” Joshua gritted when you licked his cum from his skin, the act so hot he felt himself grow hard again. “Fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down.

“Lie down, princess, Jeonghan commanded when you finished cleaning up Joshua’s lower tummy.

You lied back on the bed as he got to his knees, sending a look at Joshua as Jeonghan licked the cum from your inner thighs, eliciting a lazy moan from you.

Joshua felt even more confused than before but kept watching the whole exchange, unable to yank his gaze from it.

You smiled at Jeonghan, right before he dived for a kiss, his tongue rolling inside your mouth with a raspy groan. You cupped his head moaning lewdly in his mouth.

“Come on, let’s wash up, baby,” Jeonghan whispered, patting your thigh once before pulling away from you, but not before glancing Joshua’s way.

You crawled up to him, a playful smile on your face. “You there?” you cooed. “Let’s go,” you whispered.

Snapping from a trance, he grabbed your face, placing a rushed kiss in your lips, tasting his cum in the process. “That was so hot,” he hissed.

“Did you like that, babe?” you asked sultrily, reading his face.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

You smiled mischievously, grabbing his hand. “Come on, baby boy, let’s wash again.”

And with that, Joshua knew there was no right or wrong answer to the turbulent confusion inside him, he had to roll with it.

The following morning, Joshua stretched out his arm beneath the bedsheets, humming blissfully once he found your body to wrap in an embrace.

“Morning, babe,” you whispered.

He opened his eyes to see your face, planting a sleepy kiss on your lips. “G’morning,” he whispered.

Jeonghan looked at both of you, his phone in his hands. “Don’t I get a morning kiss?”

The question made Joshua’s heart jolt nervously. But understanding that the question was directed at you, he rolled his eyes.

However, you smiled, moving to place a sweet kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Good morning, Hannie,” you mumbled.

“Morning,” he replied with a flat tone.

“You’re a bit grumpy since last night,” you pointed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head slightly. “I should go now. Got to go to the bar to drop some payments and–,” he paused. “Is your thing with Yena still up for tonight?”

Joshua arched one eyebrow.

“Yeah, but Josh will drive me there. Don’t worry,” you looked at him.

“I’ll drive you,” he nodded dumbly. “Where?”

“I have a date with Yena. We’re grabbing dinner, we’ll talk about my anonymity and see what we could do market wise,” you explained, pinching his chin with your fingers.

“Okay,” Joshua reassured. “I’ll drive you.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan sighed, leaning over to place a loving kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he mumbled right before kissing your lips sweetly.

Joshua’s heart gave another leap. The smile that painted your face was so sweet, he had only seen it on you whenever you were with him.

“I love you, grumpy,” you replied teasingly.

“Shut up,” he sighed a smile, kissing you one more time before he pulled back. “Bye, Joshuji,” he waved, much as if he could not walk out without saying goodbye to him.

“Bye, Jeonghannie.”

Joshua sat on the pilot’s seat of his van, waiting. One hand supporting his head, the other gripping the steering wheel tightly.

He wished he could say that he eased part of the questions that made his head uneasy. But in truth, he felt even more confused. The easy way out of this, was to just let whatever he felt flow.

But then, he needed to talk it out with you. And Jeonghan.

Frustrated, he sighed. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he returned home. He so desperately wanted to go back to the quiet life, that he forgot that time also moved for you, and things changed.

Your life was also becoming less quiet.

Was this his doing?

You opened the door to the copilot’s seat of his van. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled.

“Ready?” he turned the key, igniting the engine.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you repeated.

“It’s okay, baby,” he replied dryly. “Bringing everything this time?”

“Yeah, I triple-checked,” you looked down to your lap, shamefully. “I keep forgetting my phone everywhere.”

“Did you book a table?” Joshua asked, eyeing you as he drove through the city.

“Yeah, but Yen’s already waiting for me.”

“Mm,” Joshua nodded.

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you mad at me, Josh?” you asked, and without skipping a second, you added: “I’m sorry, I–,”

“I’m not mad,” he said flatly.

A long silence was drawn between you, tension building as the seconds passed.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong then,” you said with a serious tone, trying to look at his face, but he just kept avoiding your eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled.

“Don’t do that,” you snapped. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” he finally looked at you, but the glance was short.

“You’re avoiding something,” you pointed. “I know you, Josh. There is something bothering you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he shook his head, pulling up. He raised his eyebrows. “We’re here.”

It took you a second to understand that he had parked the car in front of the restaurant you were going to meet with Yena. You searched his dark eyes, heart dropping to your stomach when you saw how dead they looked.

“I’m thinking of quitting the band,” Joshua mumbled, the weight of his confession making him drive his gaze elsewhere.

“You’re not serious,” you whispered.

“I am,” he looked at you again. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

You leaned your head to one side, eyes glinting with pity. “Baby, you’re just tired. Don’t say things like these, think it over when you’re well rested.”

“I don’t need to think things over,” he spat, shaking his head in frustration. “I want out. I don’t want any of this.”

As soon as he blurted the words, Joshua wanted to take them back. He looked at you remorsefully, opening his mouth to apologize but you stopped him, raising a palm to him.

“I’m going to ignore this moment happened… and when I come back, you and I are going to talk about this. So think carefully about how you speak to me next time.”

Then you exited the car, slamming the door behind you.

Joshua stood in front of the walled rooftop.

This used to be the place where you would come to ponder about whatever occupied your mind the most. The night Joshua followed you here, he found you in the same spot he was standing in; but you were leaning your head on the brim of the ledge, following the buzz of the busy city as some kind of a lullaby.

Some nights, Joshua would wake up to find your spot of the bed empty, and he know he would find you here, trying to solve whatever plot point you were stuck in. But some nights he would also find you here when you were running away from conflict, running away from him.

He brought a hand to rub his chest absentmindedly, trying to ease the heaviness coiling around his heart.

The sound coming from the rusty hinges of the door leading back into the building rattled him, making him turn around, somehow expecting to see you.

Jeonghan closed the door behind him, crossing his arms as he walked tentatively towards Joshua. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

Joshua shook his head in reprehension. “If you’re here to play the mediator, just telling you now, I don’t want to hear it,” he turned over again, facing the city lights again. “I know I did wrong.”

“I’m not here to play mediator,” Jeonghan said quietly once he reached Joshua’s side, leaning his forearms on the brim of the ledge. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re not picking up the phone.”

“Did you… talk to Bunny?” Joshua asked, avoiding his best friend’s scrutiny. But it was quite unavoidable, he could feel his eyes piercing him.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, finally yanking his gaze away from him and directing it towards the sunset.

Joshua expected him to say something else, something about the conversation between Jeonghan and you. But when he stayed quiet about it, Joshua felt even worse. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes harshly to avoid succumbing to pure madness.

“I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her when she gets back,” he mumbled, his voice muffling in his hands. He lifted his head blinking the quiet rage stinging his eyes and sent a shameful look to his best friend.

“She’s already here,” Jeonghan informed with a solemn expression. “She called me.”

Joshua could not stop himself from feeling resentful that you had called Jeonghan to pick you up instead of him. But even he would admit that it was deserved.

The serenity he found in Jeonghan’s gaze was perplexing. “What happened?” he asked with caution.

Joshua took pause, assuming that you might have just told him in brief what happened. “I told her I’m thinking of quitting the band. We had an argument. I shouldn’t have exploded like that, but the truth is… I’m exhausted. I don’t want this anymore,” he rasped with a nasty feeling making his face twist.

“Are you really quitting?” Jeonghan seemed unfazed by this turn of events.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, clasping his hands together as he lowered his head. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to sign for the label but… I never wanted this.”

“What is it that you hate so much about this?” he frowned with clear confusion rising in his tone. “Can’t you just admit publicly that she’s your girlfriend? Forget about me, or how I’d feel, you would have one thing less to worry about. Two, actually.”

Joshua turned to his best friend, processing his words over and over in his head, all the while scanning his features, finding nothing but quiet resolution. “You’re insane,” he realized. “You can’t say that. After all the shit that we went through to get here you can’t just decide to leave.”

Crossing his arms still, Jeonghan shrugged. “Well it can’t be that bad, right? I could just remain in the background or leave completely. I’m just saying, we can come up with some story to make all of this go away.”

“No,” he negated with his head. “No, I don’t want you to leave. And I’m pretty sure Bunny doesn’t want that either.”

Jeonghan said nothing at first, but Joshua could tell the severity of his entire demeanor had an underlying reason. “I don’t want to leave either, you know that. But look at yourself. I can’t stand looking at you like this,” Jeonghan admitted. “I tried to warn you, Shuji. You can’t make yourself happy by making everyone happy.”

The perplexing feeling sunk deeper within him. The only reaction Joshua could muster was a hollow laugh that went on until he thought this was what insanity felt like.

Jeonghan’s gaze turned to worry, his eyebrows pinching together.

“This is so fucked up,” Joshua muttered to himself, dropping his face back onto his hands and muffled a long sigh. “I’m so fucked.”

“If this is putting you in this state then we should call the polycule off,” he heard Jeonghan’s quiet tone try to bring some sense into this. “You can go back to your life before all of this, I’ll be fine.”

It seemed astounding to Joshua that his best friend would be up to do that if that made Joshua happy, even though that would mean walking away from you again. It had been so long since Jeonghan and him had a heart-to-heart, that they have missed out on so much. Joshua could easily assume what has happened in the time he been away.

But Jeonghan had no idea about what he has come to find out about himself.

“I can’t do this right now, Jeonghan,” Joshua decided, casting one look at Jeonghan’s face, and turned away from him, walking towards the door. “I’m not ready to talk about this.”

Joshua thought of what he would say to you as he crossed the rooftop, dragging his feet with heavy reluctance. He would undoubtedly apologize to you and tell you what was going on inside his head.

He did not want to walk away from his band, that was something he had said crassly, without really weighing how alarming that sounded given the state that he was in. He needed to sleep. He needed to think. He needed to—

“Stop hurting her, you fucking coward!” Jeonghan’s complaint resounded across the space between them, making Joshua stop dead in his tracks.

“What?” he blurted, turning around to see him approaching with an angry step.

“You always do this,” Jeonghan’s face twisted in annoyance, his brow furrowing as he lifted one finger to point at Joshua’s face. “You said you wouldn’t do this again. You lie and bottle up your feelings until it’s everyone’s problem!”

“I just said I can’t do this right now,” Joshua gritted.

But that just proved Jeonghan’s point. “The only time you can do it is when you blow up!” he accused. “How fucking hard can it be to just say what you truly think and feel?” he exasperatedly threw his hands at his sides.

“Like you say what you truly think and feel?” Joshua rolled his eyes in an irked way.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, dropping his hand on his side.

“We’ll talk about this later, Jeonghan,” he huffed, motioning to the door again.

“What do you want me to say? I’ll tell you right now,” he challenged, his chest falling and rising rapidly.

Joshua bit his tongue. His first instinct was to try and opt out of the conversation again, try and buy as much time as possible to figure out his feelings, to solve the itching confusion in his heart.

But as he faced his best friend, his resolve became clearer. He did not need to send any more tentative glances at him or wonder to himself any further. Jeonghan’s eyes kept reading his face over and over, just as Joshua drifted towards his lips, and then his eyes.

“What?” Jeonghan’s brow furrowed deeper, the annoyance in his demeanor died down and swiftly turned into genuine bewilderment.

Joshua thought for a second that whatever emotion showed on his face made his intentions clear. “Jeonghan,” he breathed.

His brow finally relaxed; his eyes widening in wordless realization. “Joshua?”

A large hand grabbed the collar of Jeonghan’s hoodie, giving it a firm tug. Their chests clashed together, knocking the air out of their lungs. Joshua paused, giving Jeonghan a moment to back away, to put a stop on this before it was too late.

Jeonghan’s breath hitched, but no words came out of his parted lips.

An overwhelming fluttering invaded Joshua’s chest. His free hand cupped the back of his head, tangling his fingers on the long dark hair. They both looked at each other as they leaned closer, and closer. Jeonghan closed his eyes, so Joshua decided to do the same until their lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.

✮ author's note: hellooooooo,

here it is! slightly late but here it's the first part to my hannieween fest/kinktober celebration. i hope you liked it 🙂‍↕️

i am so excited for you guys to read the next chapter to lights out!! i am actually very excited to know what you think of this one. it took me some time to finish writing it because i have so many projects at the moment!

but here it is hehe. i'm happy.

✮ STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER SIX!! ✮

JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

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headlinerkwan · 6 months ago

Text

whispered - c.hs

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

genre: nonidol!au, mutual friends to lovers, secret dating, featuring the rest of svt, reader & vernon are whipped for each other, slight comfort, suggestive.

summary: vernon had always been the guy you saw across the room but never spoke to, until you did. who could blame you for keeping your relationship quiet?

warnings: profanity, mental health, alcohol, implied family problems, highly suggestive - MDNI!!

wc: 4.4k

a/n: i hope you guys like this!! i've always loved the secret dating trope and vernon's so sweet sooo. song rec for this fic is leonard cohen - boygenius ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎

The night that you met Vernon was ordinary. Or, at least, it was meant to be ordinary. Another party at Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s place, no different from the one they held last Friday - chaotic as always, right? You had seen Vernon around before, it was impossible not to notice him. There was something that drew you to him, something that made you curious. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes sparkled under the low kitchen lights, or how he really didn’t seem to care what was going on around him, focusing only on the music and the drink in his hand.

“Everyone! Listen up!” Seungkwan yells, standing on top of a chair. You lift your head to watch him, catching Vernon’s eyes briefly as you do. “Who’s up for a game of suck and blow?”

As soon as he says that, you know there’s no escaping. Your friend grabs you by the arm, already sensing your hesitation.

“Pleaseee” Lia babbles into your ear, leaning against you “Just this once. One game, then I promise I’ll let you return to your dungeon, come on! It’ll be fun.”

Absent-mindedly, your gaze drifts to Vernon. You stifle a smile whilst you watch Chan and Jeonghan hassle him similarly. You sigh and reply to Lia, “Fine, one game.”

Seungkwan has always been methodical when it comes to games. Everything has to be just right from the set up to the number of players, it’s all a process. You’re standing with your friends, and a few strangers, waiting as Seungkwan creates the ‘perfect’ formation.

“Kwan, hurry up!” Mingyu whines.

“Ugh you don’t get it, fine.” He starts pulling people out, each one of your friends lined up and, like the child that he is, he puts you behind Vernon of course.

He turns to you, adorning an awkward smile before he offers his hand.

“I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N” You say, shaking his hand.

“I know.”

Your eyes widen, he knows?. He turns around, a smug look on his face, chuckling to himself.

The next time you see his face, he’s holding the card to his lips and bending down slightly to meet you. It’s like everything goes quiet once his eyes look into yours, like it’s the first day of your life as he leans in closer, and closer.

And then, he drops the card.

And his lips are on yours. His lips are on yours. Oh shit.

You pull away quickly, your heart fluttering as the party hollers around you.

“And… you two are out!” Seungkwan yells, pointing at the both of you, as if you needed more of a reason to blush.

Keeping your eyes on the floor, embarrassed by your shy smile and red cheeks, you immediately walk towards Lia who, after being sat in front of Chan, had already lost the game.

“I’m gonna go home now.”

“Huh?”

“You said one game, and I’m tired so…”

She sits back in her chair, sighing “Ok, I’ll keep my end of the deal, text me when you get home.”

“Mhm, stay safe, I’ll see you later!”

“Yeah yeah I know.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Stepping out onto the street, you finally feel like you can breathe. The night sky, a gathering of stars to guide you home and the wind blowing gently through your hair.

“We shouldn’t have lost, you know. Seungkwan’s a bad referee.”

Huh? You freeze. Is that…

You turn around to confirm your suspicions and there he is. In the middle of the road, Vernon is stood waiting for you to respond, hoping you’ll respond.

“Huh?”

“That wasn’t a real kiss,” he says, stepping closer to you. His eyes are soft as he scans your face as if he’s trying to memorise every freckle and blemish, “this is.”

He places two fingers under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. His lips crash into yours, he tastes like sweet vanilla and beer, his hands move gently to cup the side of your face. You’re still for a second, still frozen in place until you finally come to your senses and begin kissing him back. His tongue licks over your lips, and you part them in response, leaning into him as his tongue smooths around your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair as he teases and smiles into you.

Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, opening his eyes to look at you with a breathless grin. “Better?” he whispers against your lips and you can’t manage anything but a nod in response.

His hand drops from your face to find your hand, warm and strong. You find yourself speechless as he turns away from you, dragging you along the street as he giggles to himself like a small child, “C’mon, I’ll walk you home”.

You don’t live far from Jeonghan’s apartment, but the walk with Vernon feels almost like a lifetime as you trade anecdotes on your mutual friends and daily lives.

You learn he works at the record store downtown, he’s been friends with Seungkwan since they were teenagers and, just like you, he had been dragged to the party by his friends - your friends.

Between you two, you note at least six times that you had just missed meeting each other at group hangouts, four times that you had seen the other but been too shy to approach them. A multitude of missed chances, all the times you had gone against the strings of fate.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

As you shut the door to your apartment, you can’t help but smile to yourself, thinking back on the last hour.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were… somewhat of a pessimist when it came to romance. The whole dating thing, to be blunt, you had grown sick of. The back and forth, the chasing, the disappointment. You’re not sure you have the energy for more disappointment.

Vernon, though, manages to slip past you somehow. Manages to slip past the walls you’d built over the years. The way he makes you laugh, his heart-shaped smiles, his chestnut hair perfectly framing his face, the way he views the world with a pure curiosity.

Fuck. Tonight might have been the first time in months that your smiles have been real. Tonight your smiles weren’t products of politeness but real, genuine happiness.

God this can’t be good. You’re going soft. You’re letting a man turn you soft.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Maybe: Vernon [13:12]: I know we JUST saw each other but I can’t stop thinking about that donut place we saw last night.

Your phone vibrates on your desk and you immediately catch yourself smiling. It’s almost embarrassing how he has you giggling at your screen from such a simple message.

Ok. Compose yourself. You still need to respond.

Y/N [13:15]: It’s like you can read my mind.

Vernon [13:16]: I’ll be there in 15.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“I should tell you something.” You say, walking down the street hand-in-hand with Vernon.

“Out of the blue?”

“Mhm, out of the blue!” You respond, nudging him playfully.

“Go on…”

“I just… I’m not like, ashamed of you. I’m just, I like it like this, just you and me, I like us.”

He chuckles quietly at your sudden candour and timidity.

You hit his arm softly “Bro! I’m being serious.”

“Bro! I know!” He pulls you closer, “It’s nice with you, peaceful, like everything else fades away. I like having you to myself I guesss.”

“Hmm, maybe I should be ashamed of you, I can still change my mind” You say, laughing.

“You couldn’t even if you wanted to”

You respond with a pouty smile, he giggles, his mouth moulding into the heart shape that always manages to melt you.

“Ooo! Wait let’s get ice cream!” He says, his hand leaving yours as he runs to the food stall across the street, still grinning from ear to ear.

You find yourself smiling again. If someone had told you two months ago that you would fall for a film nerd who has the Wikipedia app downloaded onto his phone you might’ve punched them square in the face - and yet, here you are.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Cheers!”, your friends call out, clinking their glasses together. All of you are crowded around a small table, you’re sandwiched between Seokmin and Lia who are in the midst of an intense conversation about film adaptations. Vernon is sitting silently at the other end of the table, listening to Chan and Seungkwan rambling on about a lost bet. His eyes meet yours and a quiet smile appears on his face in time with yours.

“Y/N! You’re the literature nerd, can you pleaseee explain the phenomenon that is the 1996 adaptation of Romeo and Juliet” Seokmin says, pulling you away from your silent exchange.

You clear your throat and prepare yourself to give somewhat of a lecture on what you think may be the best modern retelling of Shakespeare.

Almost an hour later, Vernon pipes up, seeking an opportunity. “Anyone want another pint?”

A mumble of yes’s respond as empty glasses are lifted into the air.

“Y/N, mind giving me a hand?” He asks, impressively casually.

“Oh, uh yeah of course.” You say, shooting up from your seat (not so casually).

Standing at the bar waiting for the bartender's attention, Vernon leans over to whisper in your ear, “Should we just… run away?”.

“So tempting Mr. Chwe but I think they might catch on.”

“Hmm I’m not sure, I think they might be too caught up in their own conversations to piece it together.”

“A good point.”

“Wait five minutes, I’ll be outside.” He says assuredly, slyly reaching to squeeze your hand.

And then he’s gone, returning to the table to bid your friends goodbye, glancing at you one last time before he leaves and turns the corner.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Finally” He whines jokingly as you exit the bar after escaping the tipsy grasp of your friends.

You laugh, throwing your head back at his dramatics whilst he pulls you in by the waist, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

��I missed you.” He whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from giggling again, “We’ve literally been together the entire night.”

“Sure, but now you’re all mine.” He replies, pressing soft pecks into your skin.

“Can’t deny that.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Y/N [23:17]: Are you free rn?

Vernon [23:17]: For you? Always.

Y/N [23:19]: Can you come get me?

Vernon [23:21]: Are you ok?

Y/N [23:21]: Yeah, I just need to get out of here

‘Y/N’ shared their location with ‘Vernon’.

The rain is sharp and cold as it falls on you, staring at the puddles forming by your feet. There isn’t a thought in your head as you watch the raindrops fall. Dinner with your family has always brought out the worst in you, always wearing you down, leaving you empty. Your heart is heavy with exhaustion, anger, sadness. Exhaustion.

Then his hand slips into yours. Warm and strong as always.

“Y/N?”

You turn to him, slowly lifting your head to look at him, tears in your eyes. His expression immediately softens, “Come on bub, let me drive you home.” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and opening the car door for you.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know ‘non, can we not go home yet though? I just need some time to think.”

He nods, starting the engine, “Of course.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The sand falls from the gaps between your fingers, you sit beside Vernon, resting your head on his shoulder and letting the sea’s mist kiss your face.

Vernon is the first to break the silence, “I come here a lot, to think.”

“Mm,” you hum “it’s nice here, quiet.”

He kisses the top of your head and returns his focus to the waves crashing against the rocks.

“Sometimes I feel so out of my depth, like I don’t know if i’m doing the right thing or what the right thing is,” you admit quietly, his hand finds yours to show you he’s listening, “It all just feels so out of my control, like everything’s happening around me and not to me and that’s … not fun.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, “I know bub, and it’s not like there’s an easy fix. It’s just- you just have to feel it, the sadness, the anger, the happiness, that’s the best way. Just like how some waves pass and others break apart, and some mountains seem impossible to climb, that’s just how it is, even if it’s shit. And when it’s overwhelming, that’s okay too because I’ll come and rescue you, we’ll climb the mountains together.”

There’s a moment of silence before he lifts his pinky finger to yours.

“Promise.” he says softly.

You loop your fingers together and seal it with a shake. The sea air carrying your whispers into the night.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Okay, options are ramen or takeout.” He calls from the kitchen.

“Hmm, I think we definitely deserve takeout.”

“How come?”

“For being the power couple of the century, what do you mean?”

His laugh echoes through his apartment, “Brooo, you’re so right I can’t believe I even asked.”

He runs over to you, lazily splayed across his couch, lying on top of you he continues to giggle as he buries his face into your neck.

You love lazy Sundays with Vernon, they had quickly become your escape from reality, a sanctuary for yourself, your happiness and your love.

“What movie are we watching today then ‘non?” You ask sweetly, your hands subconsciously playing with his hair.

“I was thinking… academy award winning classic ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’?”

Ah yes, the film you and Vernon had watched ten times over, the one you would never get sick of, “LETS FUCKING GOOO!!” you yell, excitedly punching the air.

He sits up, looking at you with a cheesy grin, laughing and mirroring your fists, “LETS GO BROO!!”

As much as you love the film, staying focused on it proves to be a struggle - especially with Vernon next to you. You can’t help but watch the intense sparkle in his eyes as he’s entirely consumed by the screen. You find yourself mesmerised by the way he watches and laughs along like it’s the first time.

“It’s hard to focus with your eyes on me” he states abruptly, refusing to tear his eyes away from the TV.

Your cheeks burn red from embarrassment, “Oh, sorry.”

He turns to you then, a blend of concern and mischief on his face, “I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his sudden confidence, a part of him that always makes your heart flutter. You don’t even get a chance to respond as his lips capture yours, melting into him as he kisses you passionately, stealing the air from your lungs. One of his hands cups your face gently, a direct juxtaposition from the other which finds its way to your waist, gripping firmly as the two of you move against each other like ocean waves.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, he pulls you onto his lap, moving his lips to suck and nibble at your neck as your breath grows heavy with desire. The moans he releases against your skin echo through you, his hands running up and down your body as you throw your head back, getting hungrier by the minute.

And then he stops.

Huh?

You immediately open your eyes, slightly concerned by the suddenness of his actions, to find his eyes back on the TV whilst his hands continue to fiddle with the hem of your shorts.

“I love this scene.” He whispers, breathless and fascinated.

“Vernonnnn” you whine, throwing yourself back down onto the couch. It’s sweet, honestly, endearing, you find yourself giggling “are you kidding?”

He looks down at you, an innocent smile plastered on his face, his hand still caressing your thigh. He raises a curious eyebrow before breaking into a loud chuckle and leaning back towards you.

“Dude… Of course I’m kidding. I think the film’s gonna have to wait until I’m done with you.” He whispers against your skin, trailing kisses from your lips to your collarbone.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Five months in, you and Vernon had mastered the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ routine. Even around your friends, you cherished every moment with him, every smile, secret touch, knowing look. Even on bad days, your heart feels lighter with Vernon around.

It’s another chaotic Friday night, just like when you had first met Vernon, except this time your friends hadn’t dragged you to Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s apartment but to their favourite karaoke bar. The table you’re sitting at is littered with empty soju bottles and beer cans, you listen intently to one of Jun’s famous anecdotes as BooSeokSoon serenades your friends loudly.

“How do they still have the energy for that?” Wonwoo asks, astounded as the three men jump around, microphones in hand.

‘They’re machines, you know that.” Minghao replies.

“Mm, you’re right.”

Watching your friends, wrapped up in their own little worlds, you’re almost emotional - so happy to see them having fun, so proud to have watched them grow, and then there’s Vernon of course - maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you’re not sure you’ve felt so happy before.

“We should play a game,” Seungcheol slurs, “Should we play a game? Yeah we should play a game.” You laugh at the conversation he’s having with himself, watching as Vernon, grinning stupidly, walks over to his friends to lead them down from the stage and back to the table. The boys around you cheer for the others as they stumble to their chairs, bowing dramatically to their new ‘fans’. Once the havoc settles down, Mingyu taps his ring against his glass “Ok,” he points his finger, scanning the group before landing on Joshua “Shua, what game are we playing?”

“Uh… 365?” Joshua replies, being met with drunken agreement from the rest.

The time passes quickly as you drink and play. Growing tipsy, you hardly notice the change in Vernon’s demeanour when Soonyoung rests his head on your shoulder. It’s nothing new to you, he’s known to be an affectionate drunk - and a light weight, you’re used to his drunken skinship.

Vernon’s patience is running low as the minutes pass, his leg shaking as he watches Soonyoung cuddle up to you. He stands up from his seat across the table, walking over to your seat and taking your hand, leading you outside. Confused, you look back at your friends as you walk with him, finding them all too drunk to notice you and Vernon’s absence.

“Non? Is everything okay?”

“Can we go home now?” He asks softly with hurt eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I should be sat over there with you, I just don’t want to watch Soonyoung be all cuddly with the person I love.”

“Non, you know he’s just a sleepy drunk, we can go home if you want-”

Wait.

“The person you love?” you question, your eyes soften as you process his words.

“Oh uh, you, I mean… you.” he breaks eye contact, fidgeting nervously.

“For real?” you smile.

He laughs to himself, “Yeah dude, for real.”

You giggle again, smiling wide and throwing your head back. As you do, his hands cup your face, bringing you back to him matching your grin. You reach up to move a strand of hair out of his hair.

“I like jealous Vernon.” you whisper.

“Shut up.” he says, his lips finding yours in a soft and wanting kiss.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

You’re lying in bed, glowing with sweat, tangled up in your sheets and wrapped in Vernon’s arms. The calmness that washes over you in these moments is immeasurable, the comfort and contentedness you feel is something that you wish would last forever.

There’s a knock on your door and you both shoot up from the bed.

��Y/N, are you home?” Your roommate calls from the other side of the door.

“I thought…” He whispers with wide eyes.

“Yeah… Lia’s not meant to be back until tomorrow” You reply, scrambling to throw some clothes on.

“What do we do?”

“Y/N?” Lia calls again.

You search your room looking for some kind of escape plan before it dawns on you, there was only one option.

You point to the closet.

He shoots you a questioning look.

“I don’t fucking know bro” you whisper, rushing to make yourself somewhat presentable.

You open the door, Vernon finally hidden, “Hey, you’re back early!” you say to Lia, trying your best to hide the fact that there was a man hiding in your closet.

“Yeah, we finished early so I got the train this morning. I was just wondering if you wanted to get lunch later?”

“Sounds good! Give me like 30 minutes?”

“Yep that works for me” Lia says as she disappears into her room.

You shut the door, letting out a deep breath.

“You can come out now.”

Vernon pokes his head out of the closet, scanning the room before stepping out. You stare at each other in silence before bursting into laughter.

“I swear I almost shat the bed!” Vernon says, throwing himself down on the mattress.

“Bro, that was crazy…” you agree, joining him on the bed.

Your laughter slowly fades into a comfortable silence.

“Should we just…” you begin.

“Tell them?” Vernon finishes.

You hum in agreement.

“I mean… why not? As long as you’re with me, I think… I think It’ll be okay.” You speak softly, he’s quiet for a few seconds until he starts peppering kisses all over your face, smiling sweetly against your skin.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

A couple days later, you and Vernon stand in front of the restaurant, you can see your friends chatting inside the building. Your hand is in his, his thumb caressing yours. You look at each other, sharing an anxious but determined look, before nodding and walking towards the door.

When you enter the restaurant, it’s almost comical the way that your friends turn to look at you, their eyes dropping to your interlocked hands.

Anticipative silence fills the room as you exchange looks.

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU GUYS!” Seungkwan yells excitedly, standing up from his chair and pointing an accusatory finger at your friends, inciting a blur of exclamations from the rest of the group.

Vernon looks at you, smiling, before you sit down beside each other and prepare yourself for the abundance of questions coming your way.

taglist: @christinewithluv

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aliendes · 3 months ago

Text

SVT Reaction to yelling at you for the first time/saying something hurtful pt. 2

a/n: ok here is pt. 2! i got a ton of asks/comments asking for a pt. 2 and honestly I kinda hate this. its totally unedited, as usual, and I really don't feel like I gave all of them justice. some of them feel kinda rushed, but anywayssssss, send me your others requests for SVT while I'm on this writing kick... hehehe.

w/c: 8,000~ sheeeeeesh

warnings: angsssssssssst, like a lot of angst, female reader (for a couple of the boys), pet names (good girl), hurt/comfort, mentions of previous slap and bruising, just overall angsty as per usual. no smut but this blog is 19+ MDNI as always.

Seungcheol (S.coups)

Just like Seungcheol promised, he stayed up against the wall by your bedroom door all night. He tried his best to fight sleep but eventually, his exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep sitting up, head dipped down so his chin touched his chest.

When you finally decided you’d locked him out long enough, sometime in the middle of the night, you quietly exited your bedroom to find him in this state. A wave of guilt rushed through you at seeing him like this. He was probably exhausted from non-stop practice, and you knew he shouldn’t be sleeping in positions like this, his physiotherapist would probably kill him. But you also knew that you were incredibly hurt by his words and until he properly apologized you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that guilty.

Instead of waking him up, you walked out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But the small noises of clinking glass and running water woke your boyfriend up from his slumber. Stumbling into the kitchen, one fist rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and the other massaging his knee, he found you standing there sipping from your glass, eyes red and swollen from crying.

“Baby…” his voice was rough, you could tell he had been crying too and it made your heart clench. He took a few steps towards you and you didn’t resist, letting him get close. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Seungcheol reached both his hands out to you but didn’t dare touch until he got your permission. That permission came in the form of you setting your glass down on the counter and opening your arms for him to fall into.

The relief he felt was immense as he sunk into your embrace. “I’m so, so sorry baby,” he was sobbing without realizing it, soaking the front of your sleep shirt with salty tears, “I didn’t mean it, you know how much I love you and I c-can’t believe I s-said something like that to you.”

You hugged him closer as your own tears started to fall again. “It’s ok Cheol, I forgive you.” You whispered into his hair as you held him. His embrace was warm and felt like home and of course, you forgave him, he meant what he said, and you were his entire world, as he was yours. “I love you so much, Cheollie.”

“I love you, too, baby, please never leave me.”

Jeonghan

It’s been three days and Jeonghan is losing his absolute mind. He has never gone more than a single day without some form of communication with you, and if your sister Nayeon hadn’t texted him yesterday to let him know you are in fact fine, he would’ve probably filed a police report by now.

He’s sent probably hundreds of texts and he calls you at least a few times a day. Each and every one has gone unanswered and Jeonghan just doesn’t know what to do with himself at this point.

He had just gotten home from practice, as he was sent home early by Seungcheol, stating he ‘needed to take a breather’ after sulking around the practice room for hours on end. When he dropped his keys on the kitchen island he startled at the sight of you standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.

“Lovey?” Jeonghan asked as you turned around to look at him. He sounded as if he didn’t really believe his eyes and thought maybe he was hallucinating you standing in your shared kitchen. “You - you’re home?”

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded twice before turning back around to finish whatever you were cooking. It smelled delicious and Jeonghan suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he ate. But that didn’t matter right now. You’re home.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of that, you know that right?” He asked, desperately, as he moved closer to you, reaching out like he wanted to give you a back hug. Any other time he would’ve been clinging to you as you cooked, but now he hesitated. Were you still upset? Of course, you were, how could he ever think you wouldn’t hate his guts after what he did. “Lovey, please… please look at me.” Jeonghan was on the verge of tears now, thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios. It was his sniffles that finally made you turn to face him, tears already falling from your own eyes.

“Hannie…” your voice was quiet and choked, and the look of exhaustion on your face broke Jeonghan’s heart even further.

“Baby… can I please hold you? Please?” The tears were flowing freely now, he didn’t even bother to stop them. When you shyly nodded he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms and placing you on the kitchen countertop, arms wrapped around your middle as he sobbed into your chest. You weren’t faring much better, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you cried into his soft hair. “Please, pl-please don’t leave me. Please, lovey, I was so, so worried. I don’t know what to do without you, an-and I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

“I know, Hannie. I know.”

“N-no, please. Let me make it up to you. I mean it, I don’t know what came over me, and I will spend forever making things right again.” All you could do was hold your boyfriend and nod, knowing that he would indeed keep this promise.

Joshua

“Y/N! Wait!” Joshua snapped back to reality right away, watching as you rushed down the sidewalk back toward your workplace. He shut his car off quickly before grabbing his keys and phone and rushing out after you. “Y/N!”

He caught up to you quickly, you being much shorter than him, in a few long strides. He grabbed your elbow lightly, not allowing you to walk any further. “Baby, I know you’re upset. Fuck, I’m so sorry, but do not rush off, it’s not safe.”

You halted your steps but didn’t turn around to face your boyfriend. Tears were threatening to fall, but you held them back as you waited for him to continue.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I have no idea what just came over me. You are not a slut, and I don’t believe anything that just came out of my mouth, please baby, please believe me.” His grip loosened on your arm once he was sure you weren’t going to run again. “I know you’re mad, but please get back in the car, we can go home and you can scream at me all you want. But I want to make sure you’re safe.”

You finally turn to face Joshua as the tears started to fall. There weren’t too many people around, but it was enough to make your face heat with embarrassment, making Joshua’s heart shatter. On top of hurting you with his words you were embarrassed and it was all his fault.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged gently, offering you his hand, which you reluctantly take. “Let’s talk about it on the way home.” You nodded and followed him back towards the car, allowing him to open the door for you and click your seatbelt into place before taking his place behind the wheel again.

You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater as Joshua began to drive. You mumbled something softly that Josh didn’t quite pick up. “Say that again, baby?” He looked over at you with soft eyes, waiting for you to repeat yourself.

“He’s gay.”

Joshua took a moment to realize what you were talking about before it clicked. Your coworker. The gay one who just got engaged to his fiance. Their wedding is this summer and you’ve been talking about it non-stop since he asked you to be in the wedding party. Joshua felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“Shit. Sweetheart, I knew that. Fucking hell I’m an idiot. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.” He ran one hand over his face, blinking rapidly to try and hold back his own tears of embarrassment now, not letting them fall so he could get you both home safe.

You wouldn’t look at him the rest of the ride home, but when you got home that night Joshua groveled and babied you until you forgave him for his shitty words.

Jun

The next day, Jun kept the promise he made in the last voicemail he sent. He was on the first flight home after his schedules and the entire flight back to Korea he was wracking his brain with what he was going to say to fix this, if he even could fix this. The thought was tearing him apart. He did his best to sleep on the plane, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop picturing the worst case scenarios of you leaving him when he got home.

Once he was finally standing outside your shared apartment door, bouquet in hand, he knocked quickly three times, despite having the passcode. If you needed space, he was going to give that to you, his feelings be damned.

After a moment you opened the door, surprised to see your boyfriend holding a rather large bouquet of flowers, though you guess he did tell you he was coming home today in his voicemails. You almost felt guilty for making him come home a few days earlier than he should have, but that thought quickly evaporates when you remembered his words from last night.

“Why are you here?” You ask, not allowing him to pass you and enter your apartment, despite him also living there. You could tell Jun had been crying, you could tell he was miserable, and while you felt a pang of heartache for your usually loving boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction that he had been up all night crying just like you had.

Junhui frowned at your words, but pushed the flowers towards you gently. “These are for you… and Y/N, please. I’m so sorry…” He was wearing the most forlorn look on his face as he stared down at his feet.

You took pity on your boyfriend and took the flowers, turning on your heel to bring them into the kitchen, leaving the door open so he could finally come in. As you set the bouquet down on the countertop, you turned back to the doorway, watching as your boyfriend stayed standing outside, still staring at his feet.

“Well, are you just gonna stand there, or come in?” You asked snippily.

Jun looked up at you, large doe eyes watering with unshed tears, before nodding and entering the apartment and softly closing the door behind him. He still couldn’t bare to look at your face and the remnants of dried tear tracks and puffy cheeks. He felt immeasurable guilt for the things he said last night and how he made you feel. So he continued staring down at the floor out of respect for you.

“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t mean any of those things I said last night. I love you and your family so, so much. There is nowhere in this world I would rather be than with you, in your arms, making you the happiest person on the planet. I love your family, and one day I know they’ll be my family, too, so, of course, I love them, of course, I will do whatever it takes to make them happy too, because-” Jun let out a soft ‘oof’ when you collided with his chest, stunned for a moment before he gently closed his arms around your middle, resting his cheek on your soft hair. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”

You were sniffling now and Jun could tell you were on the verge of full-blown sobbing when you said with a watery voice, “And I love you more than all the fish in the sea.”

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung entered your darkened apartment, there was silence, and that scared him more than the noises you made when you ran out of the practice room. With his thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios of what could be happening, he quickly searched through your shared space, checking all the rooms and bathrooms to figure out where you were hiding.

When he reached the guest bedroom, he heard it. A small sniffle and a gasp for air. Without thinking he launched himself onto the guest bed, thinking he’d find you, but you weren’t there. Looking around again, he finally spotted you, squished in between the corner wall and the old dresser you two had put in here last year. Your head was between your knees and you were attempting to take deep breaths, but he could tell it was futile.

Rushing over to you he dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain in his knee caps as he did so, and reached out to put his hands on your shoulders. Your head shot up as if you hadn’t heard all the commotion before and stared up at your boyfriend with a red, puffy face, streaming with tears. The sight broke Soonyoung’s heart even further, but he needed to help you through this first and foremost.

“Baby, I need you to breathe, ok? Can you do that for me?” You shook your head no, an action that he mirrored, “I know you’re upset, and you should be, but right now I’m more worried about your breathing. Ok, deep breath…” Soonyoung took an exaggerated deep breath in which you were reluctant to mirror, “C’mon baby, please breathe with me.” You could tell from your boyfriend’s tone that he was actually starting to get scared and in turn that scared you, so you followed along with his instructions. “There you go, good girl, again…”

After a few minutes of following Soonyoung’s deep breathing, your own started to even out, satisfying your boyfriend enough for him to properly sit down and pull you into his lap, cradling you like you were the most precious thing to him in that moment. As you started to move to get out of his embrace, his arms tightened slightly around you as he murmured into your hair, “Please… please baby, please don’t leave me.”

His panicked tone set you on edge again, having thought you were both calmed down from before, but clearly he needed this now.

“Please…” he was sobbing into your hair, your shoulder, just trying to be as close to you as possible, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, please, please don’t leave.” He was begging now.

“Soon…” You whispered, taking one cheek in your hand and raising his face to meet your eyes. You could see the anguish there, he really thought you were about to leave him for good. “Soon, I’m not leaving. I’m just really upset with you, you said some cruel things to me.”

Soonyoung cleared his throat slightly, but the tears kept running, “And you should be! I was horrible, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry. I was in my head about practice and nothing going right today.”

“I can see that Soonyoung, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat me that way.”

“You’re right, I’m not making excuses. I was wrong, and if you’ll let me I will make it up to you, and prove to you it wont happen again. I love you so much, and all I want is to cherish you.”

You slid your hand down his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, until you wrapped both your arms around him, squeezing him tightly, which he returned without a second thought. “And I love you, too, Soonie.”

Wonwoo

Wonwoo had been knocking on your friend’s door for the last five minutes, he knew you were in there. You told him last night where you were going, but you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts all night, finally prompting him to drive over here himself and make sure you were alright.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sunmi answered the door wearing a robe with her hair up in a towel. It was clear she had just showered and she looked like she was about to tear Wonwoo a new one, until she saw the crazed look in his eyes.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing at my door at,” she looked behind her at her microwave clock, “6:53 am? Is it Y/N?” Now she was starting to panic, wondering why your boyfriend is at her apartment looking like he just went through hell and back.

“She’s not here?” Wonwoo’s eyes widened, “What do you mean she’s not here? She didn’t come over last night?” Sunmi shook her head, not understanding what Wonwoo meant. She talked to you yesterday, but made no plans to come over. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” Wonwoo ran both his hands through his hair and turned on his heel, running down the hallway of Sunmi’s apartment building. “Call me if she shows up, please!” He yelled over his shoulder, and all Sunmi could do was nod before he disappeared down the corridor.

Now, Wonwoo was actually panicking. How could he let you go last night? What if something horrible happened to you? What if- he needed to find you. Now.

Wonwoo started calling all of your friends, your brother, even his friends, to see if you were with any of them, only to be met with the same answer: No, they hadn’t seen or heard from you. Wonwoo walked through the streets near your shared apartment, every scenario of what could have happened to you running through his mind. The picture of you sitting somewhere, cold and sad with your duffle bag absolutely sends him spiraling. He’s calling your phone over and over, sending texts that are becoming more crazed as time goes on.

Wonwoo is nearly home, resigned to finally calling your mother and the police, when he gets the text.

From: Y/N i’m home

Fuck. He shoved his phone in his pocket and started sprinting the rest of the way home, not taking even a moment to catch his breath before he’s bursting through the front door, finding you with your face in your hands, sitting on the couch of your shared living room.

“Y/N, oh my God, Y/N…” Wonwoo dropped to his knees in front of you, reaching out and smoothing his hands over your shoulders, needing to feel that you were real, “Y/N are you ok? What happened, where were you?” Wonwoo we crying from relief at this point, trying, and failing to hold back his sobs.

You sniffled again and finally pulled your head from your palms, looking at your boyfriend, who looked absolutely pitiful. You would’ve chuckled if the situation wasn’t so serious. His glasses were askew on his face, his bedhead sticking out in different places, and tears running down his face, making his eyes red and puffy. He looked like he fared no better than you last night and the thought made you feel better somehow.

Wonwoo was still looking up at you expectantly, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face. “I was in the subway station.” Wonwoo furrowed his brow and reached out to grab your hands, you let him, knowing what he was doing.

“Your hands are freezing, Y/N.” Wonwoo reached up, brushing his knuckles lightly over your reddened cheek, “Shit. You’re burning up. You stayed down at the station? All night?”

You nodded, closing your eyes at the sensation of his cooler hand against your warm skin.

Without asking, Wonwoo stood up and scooped you into his arms, bringing you to your shared bedroom and settling you comfortably on the mattress. He stripped your coat and shoes off before wrapping you in the warm duvet. He left momentarily to grab some medicines from the bathroom and make some hot tea. When he returned, you were curled in on yourself, sniffling and coughing from the cold Wonwoo presumed you had.

Setting the tea and meds on the nightstand, he took a seat on the bed near your huddled form and rubbed his hand up and down what he assumed was your back. “I’m really sorry, you know. Like… I’m such an asshole. I didn’t even realize what I said until Cheol told me I was being a dick. Which I was.”

You let out a slight chuckle at that, which made Wonwoo smile. Maybe all wasn’t lost. His eyes softened as he watched you cough again. “I’m so, so sorry, love. You are my entire world and I’m so sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t true last night. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to get away from me and it got you sick.” A few more tears fell as he finished, “I hope you know I’m not letting you out of my sight until you're better. This is all my fault and I’m going to show you how much you mean to me if it’s the last thing I do.”

Wonwoo leaned over you, hugging you the best he could in your prone position. You turned onto your back slightly, reaching up and wrapping your arms loosely around your boyfriend's neck, hugging him back, and leaning your face into the crook of his neck. He placed light kisses all over the side of your face as he whispered into your ear, “I love you so much, Y/N. Always.”

Jihoon

Jihoon stayed in his studio that night, not having the balls to face you. Though he did send a few texts, updating you on what he was doing, asking if you were alright, and checking in throughout the night. All of which went unanswered.

When morning came, Jihoon couldn’t sit still any longer. He hardly got any work done throughout the night, which was the entire reason for your fight, which only made him feel even more guilty. So after he powered down his computer and locked up his studio, he headed down to the cafe to grab breakfast and coffees for you before heading home.

When he unlocked the front door and walked into shared apartment, he was shocked to see you still awake, working on something on your laptop as you sat on the floor of the living room, back against the sofa. If the bags under your eyes told Jihoon anything, it’s that you didn’t get any sleep either. He winced at the thought of you up and working all night, though he figured he deserved to feel the heavy guilt on his shoulders.

When he approached you with a bag of food and coffee, you finally looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. You could tell he felt miserable, his hair was sticking out in every direction as if he had run his hands through it all night, his glasses were smudged from his fingers pushing them up over and over, and he had what looked suspiciously like dried tear tracks on his cheeks. Jihoon set the bag and coffee down on the table before taking a seat next to you, his eyes never leaving your form.

“I brought breakfast.” Was the only thing he could think to say. Jihoon felt like such as idiot. “I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

You scoffed at that, looking away from him and back to your laptop. “Of course you didn’t. Apparently you don’t think I work very hard in the first place.” You slammed your laptop closed with a little too much force, making Jihoon jump slightly. He winced at his own words, going and fucking up again.

“Y/N…” he started, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, “I am so… so, so fucking sorry. I know how hard you work. I let my stress get the better of me and that is not an excuse. I fucked up. I know I did.”

“Yeah… you did, Jihoon. Coffee and breakfast isn’t going to fix this.”

“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure you ate, since you never let me know last night if you had dinner.” Jihoon put his head in his hands. “I have no idea why I said those things when you are the hardest working person I fucking know. I can’t take it back, but I will continue apologizing for it for as long as you’ll let me.”

You sighed, you knew Jihoon didn’t mean what he said. That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. But you could also see how sorry he was. Hell, the fact that he was home this early in the morning was testament to that. Deciding that you had forgiven him, but not wanting to make it too easy on him, you reached over the coffee table, grabbing the bag of pastries.

“If it means I get breakfast every morning, I guess I can forgive you.” Jihoon looked up at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Seokmin

Seokmin had been at the dorms for approximately 20 minutes when he just couldn’t take it anymore. You had texted him to let him know to give you some space, and that you could talk tomorrow, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew he fucked up bad, especially once he got to the dorms and Jeonghan had asked him what happened. When he explained it to his hyung, Jeonghan has scoffed and chewed him out for being such a dumbass, before he finally showed Seokmin that the website he was looking at was a fanmade troll website.

Seokmin had never felt so guilty, so horrible in his entire life. You, the love of his life, his literal sunshine on a cloudy day, was hurt because of something he did, something he said, and he was really spiraling thinking about it.

Without thinking too hard about it, he grabbed his things and left the dorm, ignoring Mingyu’s questioning shouts behind him.

Seokmin ran all the way to your shared apartment, which wasn’t all that far from the dorms, but far enough that when he reached your front door he was winded. Pressing the passcode to the door, he fumbled a few times before he finally got it right and burst through the door.

He found you lying under the covers of your shared bed, quietly sobbing, and his heart shattered at the sight. “Baby….?”

You startled and sat up in bed, letting the duvet fall around you, not expecting Seokmin to be back so soon. “Seok?” Your voice was scratchy and it made Seokmin feel even worse. At this point, he wasn’t sure how much worse he could feel, but he knew he deserved every last ounce of the guilt he was feeling.

“Fuck.. I’m so, so sorry, baby.” Seokmin stumbled his way over to the bed before resting both palms on in, not wanting to join you on the bed if he wasn’t wanted. “I couldn’t - I couldn’t stay at the dorms, I can’t be away from you right now. Fuck! I’m so stupid, I’m so, so fucking stupid!” He cried, not bothering to stop the tears now that you were in front of him.

Your face crumpled and your tears fell again, not wanting to see your usually upbeat boyfriend so distraught, despite him of being deserving of it. “Seok, it wasn’t real…”

“I know, I know, sweetheart. I’m such a dumbass for confronting you like that. I will never, ever forgive myself for the things I said to you. For making you feel like… like this.” He gestured at you wildly, not knowing fully how to convey his thoughts. “I… I talked with Jeonghan-hyung when I got to the dorms, he chewed me out,” Seokmin looked sheepish as he continued, “he showed me it was fake… baby, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Seok… I understand, I would probably have reacted poorly too if I was-”

Seokmin violently shook his head, “No, no please, Y/N. Don’t let me off the hook that easily. How I reacted was wrong, so fucking wrong, and you don’t deserve that. Especially not from me. Please, please let me show you how sorry I am. I will prove to you that you are safe here, with me, and I will never, ever let my temper get the best of my like that again.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you opened your arms for your boyfriend to fall into. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he tackled you back onto the soft pillows, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, everywhere he could reach, making you giggle. “Ok… ok, Seok. I believe you.”

He pulled away slightly to look into your eyes, his big brown orbs sparkled back at you, and all he could say in response was, “Thank you, baby.”

Mingyu

When you got to your brother’s house, Joshua immediately sat you down and made you explain everything. Through tears you explained how Mingyu had accused you and yelled at you, and how you were so confused at the text messages because you swear you didn’t send them to him.

Joshua was livid, he was seeing red when he called Soonyoung over to his apartment and made him also explain what had happened. Through all your revelations it was discovered that you actually had sent those texts to Soonyoung, only you were drunk, and you thought Soonyoung was Mingyu. Apparently it happened last weekend when you were out with your friends for a bachelorette party and as stupid as you felt, as guilty as you felt for putting Soonyoung and now Mingyu is such an odd predicament, Mingyu was still out of line for the way he spoke to you and accused you.

Joshua helped you ice your back after Soonyoung left, wincing when you showed him the bruise that was forming there. It only fueled his anger further, making his decision to call Mingyu over final. Once Joshua had you comfortable in the guest bed, he called Mingyu to see what exactly was going through is head.

Once he explained what had actually happened, Mingyu was in tears, sobbing to him over the phone, hiccuping and making it hard for Joshua to understand anything he was saying. Joshua asked Mingyu to come over but to stay quiet, as you were napping after the emotional afternoon you just had. Mingyu agreed and showed up not even 15 minutes later.

Joshua and Mingyu had a long discussion about how Mingyu should be treating you, with your boyfriend silently crying throughout the whole thing. Neither of them realized that you were in fact awake, and listening just around the corner from the living room. When Joshua and Mingyu were done talking, you came around the corner and immediately went and sat in Mingyu’s lap, hugging tightly around his neck. Mingyu was stunned for a second, but wrapped his strong arms around you just as tightly.

“Baby…” he whispered into your hair as he watched Joshua get up and leave the living room with a slight smile on his face. “I’m so sorry for reacting the way I did.”

“It’s fine, Gyu,” you sniffled as you pulled back to look him in the eyes, “It was all a stupid misunderstanding and I’m sorry, too, for sending those texts.”

“Hey, baby, no - don’t apologize. You thought you were texting me. It’s me who should be apologizing for how I treated you. And I am. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Mingyu cupped your cheek in his large hand, thumb running over the apple of your cheek to catch your tears. “You are my entire world.”

“I forgive you, Gyu.” You whisper as you lean down to kiss your pouty boyfriend.

Minghao

Steeling himself, Minghao took a deep breath and walked back out into the kitchen. He knew that he needed to own up to how he just treated you, but honestly all he could think about the moment he sees you hyperventilating on the kitchen floor, is making sure you were safe. Pushing the fight and his need for apologies to thge back of his mind, he sunk down to his knees in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder and the other on your cheek, bringing your face up to look at him.

“Y/N, look at me…” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. You shook your head violently, trying to get away from him, “Hey. Hey hey, baby, it’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok. I just need you to breathe Y/N.” Your boyfriend did his best to take some deep breaths, gently nudging your cheek again so you would look up into his eyes. You look so small and scared and even though his heart was breaking, he knew you needed him right now. “Deep breath, there you go. Good girl. Tell me five things you can see.”

You hiccupped when you tried to take a deep breath and Minghao made exaggerated motions with his chest to show you how to breathe. Once your breathing evened out a bit you started to mumble, looking anywhere that wasn’t him. “T-t-table… a- a mug.” You pointed weakly to the kitchen counter. Minghao didn’t need to look, didn’t care if you were right, just needed you to keep talking.

You looked down at his hands, “Ring,” his eyes softened when you mentioned the team ring on his pinky and grabbed at his wrist. “Y-you.”

“Who, Y/N?”

“H-Hao.”

“One more.”

You took another shaky breath in and looked around, “The p-plant.” You motioned with your eyes to the pothos plant sitting just above the kitchen sink.

“Good. I’m right here, baby. I got you.” Minghao whispered as he moved to sit down right next to you, letting you hold onto his wrist still, he gently picked you up and moved you so you were situated on his lap. “Now, four things you can touch.”

You rested your head against his shoulder as you started to calm down. “Your hair,” you whispered as you ran your fingers through his long hair. “Your sweater,” you mumbled as your hand reached the soft material of his sweater. “My jeans,” you said as you shifted in Minghao’s lap and he chuckled softly knowing how much you hated wearing denim at home.

“One more, baby.” He whispered softly into your ear.

“Heartbeat…” you murmured quietly as your hand rested against his chest. Before he could continue with your calming techniques you cut him off. “I’m fine, Hao.” He wasn’t sure if he believed you, but he couldn’t hear the tremble in your voice anymore, so he chose to just hold you tightly.

After a moment of silence, Minghao whispered in your ear. “I am so, so incredibly sorry, my love. I’ve been stressed lately, and seeing you so stressed just freaked me out.” His voice was so soft like he was trying not to startle you. You nodded against his neck and he could feel the wetness from your remaining tears gathering near his collarbone. “I hate seeing you hurt, and I can’t believe I’m the one who hurt you this time.”

“You didn’t…” you trailed off, pulling back to look your boyfriend in the eye. He gave you a look that told you that was a lie, so you added, “I mean, not initially. Sometimes I just…. Get this way and I don’t know how to fix it.” You looked down at your hand still resting on Minghao’s chest and sniffled.

“That’s okay, my love. That’s why I’m here. I shouldn’t have yelled, I should’ve helped you in whatever way I could, and I am so sorry that I didn’t do that.”

You looked back up at his big brown orbs, noticing the wetness there. Minghao rarely cried, especially not in front of others, so without hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his hair. “I forgive you.”

“I promise you are safe with me.”

Seungkwan

When 3 a.m. hit Seungkwan couldn’t keep his cool any longer. He refused to go to sleep without speaking to you, regardless of how mean he was to you earlier, he wasn’t going to break the promise the both of you had made to each other.

He had called you several times by now, but at this point, your phone was off. Either that or you blocked him, but he was refusing to believe that just yet.

Grabbing his coat and keys, he made his way out of your apartment complex and started walking towards your best friend Minji’s house. It wasn’t too far from your shared place, and Seungkwan figured that would be the best place to start his search.

While he walked he continued to try and call you in hopes that your phone would be on, or you unblocked him, he supposed, but each time it went straight to voicemail. As he rounded the corner to Minji’s complex, he saw a slumped-over figure sitting on the edge of a flower planter, and immediately he knew it was you.

You sat there, in the dark, slouched over with your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. You were clearly shivering, having only been in your work clothes and light coat, only stockings covering your bare legs under your pencil skirt. Without hesitation Seungkwan ran over to you and crouched down so he was in your line of sight.

“Y/N?” His voice was so small and timid, so much unlike the tone he used with you on the phone earlier that it made you look up at him. His heart broke when he saw you were crying, probably had been crying his whole time and it truly made him hate himself in that moment. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, a light smile gracing his beautiful features when your eyes met his, “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Seungkwan… why are you here?”

“I was worried about you. You didn’t come home…”

You scoffed and turned your head to look anywhere but at him. “You told me not to.” His heart sank to his feet at your words. Because yes, that is exactly what he told you earlier.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me, you know I can lose my temper sometimes, but… but that is no excuse!” He reached out and grabbed both your hands in his, wincing at how cold they were. “Baby, you’re going to get sick, please let me take you home?”

“Now you’re concerned? Earlier you didn’t want anything to do with me, but now you’re worried?” You scoffed again, pulling your hands from his grasp.

“Sweetheart, please. You can yell and scream at me all you want when you’re home, and safe, and warm, okay?” Seungkwan looked up at you with pleading eyes and you finally, finally graced him with your gaze. It was hard, and sad, but at least you were looking at him. He tried his best for a smile again, but it came across more as a grimace as he watched your body shake from the cold. “Please, Y/N. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, it was said out of anger, but I’m not angry anymore. I’m worried about you. Please, let me take care of you and make up for my words.”

You looked at him now, really looked at him. His hair was mussed, his cheeks were red and puffy, and you could tell he hadn’t slept. “You haven’t slept?” You voiced your thoughts and he shook his head immediately.

“We made a promise,” Seungkwan said softly, reaching for your hands again. This time you let him take them, “We never go to bed upset.”

The corner of your mouth quirked as you allowed your boyfriend to pull you up from the ledge you were sitting on, and wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face into your hair, kissing your ear before whispering, “I will never break that promise.”

Vernon

Vernon had been sulking all day, not just from his ruined lyrics, but from the way he had spoken to you this morning. Why did he have to take his anger out on you? It wasn’t even your fault, it was the cat’s fault, really. But getting mad at the cat wasn’t going to solve anything. No, if he wanted to fix this he needed to take responsibility for his actions.

He had left you alone all day, not wanting to bother you at work, but as soon as the clock reached 5:05 p.m., he called you, knowing you’d probably be on your way down from your office, heading to the bus stop. You picked up on the third ring.

“What do you want, Vern.” Your tone was sharp and he figured he definitely deserved it.

“Hey…” he started dumbly, “Can you - can you please come home?” His voice was tiny, so different from how it sounded earlier. It was like he was a pleading child asking for his mother to come home. It tugged at your heart strings hearing your usually confident boyfriend sound so small.

“Are you sure?” You asked, voice still clipped.

“Of course, Y/N. Actually, where are you? I’ll come get you.” Immediately Vernon was up and grabbing his keys and wallet.

“I’m just outside work at the bus stop. You don’t-”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” He didn’t give you a chance to finish your sentence, determined to make up for whatever he could. “Please, babe, let me do this.”

“Ok, Vernon.” You said as you hung up and waited at the bus stop for your boyfriend. He pulled up exactly 9 minutes later, having broken at least a few traffic laws to get to you.

As soon as you got into the passenger seat of his car, he awkwardly leaned over the center console to wrap his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You reached up your hands to lay over his arms, not wanting to ignore the comfort he was offering, not when you needed it so bad.

You both stayed like that for a moment before Vernon finally pulled away, only to see you trying your damndest to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. “Oh, baby.” He whispered, reaching out and wiping the tears from your cheeks as they started to fall, “Please don’t cry, I’m not worth your tears. I’m so fucking sorry, you have no idea.”

You nodded your head and bit your lip, but Vernon was having none of it as he gently pried your bottom lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Don’t let me off the hook, what I said was awful. I was awful.”

“I understand, Vern.” You whispered, tears still falling, as you reached out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry I left the water out, I-”

Vernon shook his head, eyes closing as he felt another punch of guilt to his gut at what you were about to say. “Nope. No, don’t apologize. Not your fault, not even a little.”

“But-”

“Nope. Let’s go home and I’m going to show you exactly how sorry I am, babe.” You looked at him as he slowly sat back comfortably in the driver’s seat, not letting go of your hand, and started to drive. “You aren’t allowed to lift a finger for the rest of the day. And I don’t want to hear any apologies from you. I’m the sorry one.”

Chan

Chan listened to your quiet sobs for what felt like hours but realistically had only been about 30 minutes. He never left his spot right outside your bedroom door, not even to grab ice for his steadily bruising cheek. He didn’t care about the pain, he deserved it and more for what he had said to you.

Chan would spend the rest of his life groveling and making up for those words if you’d let him. He knows how wrong they were, how awful they sounded coming from someone who is supposed to love and protect you. Protect you from shit like that, but instead, he’s the one spewing it.

After another few minutes, Chan couldn’t take it anymore and crawled over the the door, rasping his knuckles on the wood frame a few times. “Y/N?” he asked over your sobs. You quieted for a moment, letting Chan know you heard him, at least. “Y/N, I am so fucking sorry.” Chan finally let his tears fall, full force, as he continued to apologize. “J-just, please, let me in so I can make sure you’re okay, p-please.” He begged, still lightly knocking his knuckles onto the door.

It took a few moments of silence before he heard the lock click. Immediately he was scrambling to stand up and open the door. He was expecting you to be standing there waiting to possibly slap him again, but instead, he stumbled over your hunched form on the floor, right next to the door. Catching himself before he could face plant, he quickly crouched down so he was at eye level with you.

“Baby…” his voice was distraught at the sight of you hunched over and sobbing. Sobbing because of him, his words. It broke his heart all over again. “Will you p-please come sit with me?” He asked, holding his hand out in offer for you to take. You stared at it for a moment before giving in and settling your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to standing.

You didn’t look him in the eye, instead looking down at the floor as he led you over to the edge of the mattress and sat down. He wanted to pull you into his lap, but decided against it, opting instead to keep holding you hand as he spoke.

“Y/N, I don’t even know how to explain myself. I can’t explain myself. What I said was so fucked up, that I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you slap me again and leave me forever.” He sounded so distraught that you finally looked up at him, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sight of his bruised face.

He looked at you surprised, only to realize you were tearing up again at the sight of his face. “No, no Y/N, you didn’t hurt me, I swear. I deserved this, in fact, I deserve more,” he pleaded with you, not wanting you to feel guilty for the slap. “I promise, baby, I’m fine.”

You weren’t sure you totally believed him, but you nodded anyway, not really knowing what to say.

“Can I please, please hold you? I know I don’t have the right, but-”

Before Chan could finish his sentence you had your arms around his neck. You could tell he was truly sorry for what he said. That didn’t mean you were going to forgive him right away, or possibly at all, for the awful way he treated you. But right now you both needed a little comfort before you had a serious discussion. You weren’t going to deny yourself of that, so you sunk into his arms as they wrapped around you, burying your face in his neck.

“I don’t want to say I forgive you, Chan because I don’t know if I do, but I’m not leaving. I love you, Chan, and I know you didn’t really mean it.”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” he mumbled into your hair, “But I’m going to keep apologizing for the rest of our lives if you let me.”

#svt angst #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen reactions #seventeen fanfic

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