#seventeen fanfic

[spearbxcheol]

DK X READER | KPOP DEMON HUNTERS AU | DRABBLE

I swung my sword straight toward his chest — but he was faster, dodging left before the blade could touch him. I twisted my body in his direction, rage flaring as his smirk only deepened.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded. “Trying to steal our fans? Steal their souls?”

“Well, not just your fans” DK said, raising his hands in mock innocence. “We plan to go after them all.” I didn’t wait — I lunged at him again. He dodged, smooth and fast, and I didn’t notice the demon creeping up on my side until it was too late.

It grabbed my arm, and I yanked away, leaping back and driving my sword into the demon’s chest. It burst into dust. I glanced down — my sleeve was torn, and the marks on my right arm were exposed, glowing faintly with a pulsing light.

When I looked up, DK was staring at me. His eyes locked on the marks. “You’re just like me” he said softly, almost breathless, his eyes wide with recognition.

I growled, stepping back instinctively — not realizing the hole in the wall nearby, where my members were still fighting and calling for backup.

“But they don’t know…” he murmured, his voice low and curious, watching my every move like he was trying to read my soul.

I scanned the area, heart racing, desperate to find something — anything — to cover myself.

“I’m not like you!” I snapped through gritted teeth, turning toward the girls, who were now being surrounded by a ring of demons.

Just as I prepared to risk everything — to reveal what I truly was and save them — time slowed.

And then… DK was in front of me. His arms wrapped around me carefully, guiding my body with unnatural gentleness. Before I could react, he tore a strip of cloth from his own sleeve and wrapped it around my arm, hiding the glowing marks.

Then, without a word, he pushed me back — and let himself fade into the shadows.

My thoughts roared in my head.

Why did he help me?

Why protect me, when I wanted him dead?

But there was no time for answers. I shook my head, looked one last time into the space where he’d vanished — empty — and tightened my grip on the sword.

Then I ran to join my members, ready to finish what we started.

A/N: ever since i saw a tiktok edit of dk as jinu i knew i had to write something, bc im so obsessed with this movie, I’ll probably end up writing more drabbles anyway, if you ever wanna talk about dk as jinu or literally anything, hit me up 🫶

[coupsiedaisee]

champagne papi | c.sc

everyone thinks you married your husband fo the money, but you really bagged him for his perfectly plump ass

pairing: seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut wordcount: 3k a/n: hi, this has been siting in my drafts for literally so long. scoups is hot, so here ya go. as always, ty to @hannieween for putting up with hearing about this fic for like, at least a year. uwu ily x (also this isn't proofread, if you see anhy typos/grammar mistakes no you didn'ttttt)

You love when rich people throw charity balls.

You're not a fan of the crowd in the upper echelon. Nor are you a fan of feigning interest in their elitist small talk.

No, what you're a massive fan of is how your husband Seungcheol's ass looks in his perfectly tailored black pants. His reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator is something you can't take your eyes off of. The way his pants hug the curvature of his—

"Baby, are you staring at my butt?"

Your eyes tear away from his reflection and up into his eyes. Dark brown, like an intoxicating whiskey. A knowing smile plays on his lips. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, raising an eyebrow.

Seungcheol responds by leaning in to leave a soft kiss on your lips, chuckling when you whine, eyes closed, chasing after his lips for more. "We're almost there, baby." He snakes an arm around your waist and rubs up and down your side, hands skating over the soft silk of your dress. A dress he bought for you, just so he could have the satisfaction of ripping it off of you later tonight.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to a penthouse suite. After every gala, every ball, any event in the city, Seungcheol always books the same room for the two of you to stay the night.

"See, come on baby," Seungcheol smacks a wet kiss on your cheek, then bends down to slip his arm under your legs, picking you up bridal style.

You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck, "Seungcheol!" Laughter rumbles through his chest as you snuggle into him, a feeling of content, and home, settling in your chest. He carries you to the bed with ease, tossing you gently into the piles of rose petals he has the staff lay out while you two were at the gala.

Your hands smooth over the soft red petals, and you turn on your side to admire your husband as he opens up a bottle of champagne. Forearms flex as he twists the cork out, a gold watch glinting on his wrist. Somewhere between tossing you into bed and the champagne, he'd lost his suit jacket, clad now in just his form-fitting, pressed black shirt. His sleeves are rolled up, top few buttons undone, and an untied bowtie hangs around his collar. Your eyes rake down the expanse of his back, pausing once you get to his tight, round, ass.

"Baby," sang Seungcheol. Without even turning around, he asks, "Are you staring at my butt again?"

Even though he couldn't see you, you lift your chin at him in defiance, whining, "It's my ass, I'll stare if I want to."

Seungcheol swivels around, gripping the bottle neck tightly, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, it's yours, is it?" He takes a swig straight from the bottle, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand, leaving a wet streak across his cheek. His eyes travel up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you.

Your tightly twisted bun had slowly unravelled through the night, ringlets of curls now framing your face. The faded pink of your lips. The delicate gold chain around your neck. The strap of your silk dress slipping off your shoulder. And lastly, your big, wide eyes, looking up at him like you were ready for him to eat you up in one big bite, and by god, did he want to.

If you think Seungcheol looks good, Seungcheol thinks you look ethereal.

He sets the champagne down on a table and makes his way to you. When he's at the foot of your bed, you prop yourself up on your elbows, biting your bottom lip, and staring up at him through your lashes.

It takes everything in Seungcheol not to groan. He knows the look you give him all too well.

It’s the have-your-way-with-me look. The i’ll-let-you-do-absolutely-anything-to-me look. The if-i-can-walk-tomorrow-you-didn’t-fuck-me-hard-enough look. 

You were gonna be the death of him.

Seungcheol kneels by the edge of the bed, and you swallow in anticipation as he takes your feet in his hands, one by one removing your heels and setting them on the floor. He pads his thumb over the soles of your feet, applying pressure where he feels you'll need it most. You nearly throw your head back in a moan from the relief.

"That feel good, baby?” Seungcheol's hands don't stop massaging.

"Yeah," your voice is breathier than before. You think you can become undone from this alone.

Seungcheol's hands pause, "Do you want to feel even better?"

You feel your breath hitch, and your voice comes out barely as a whisper, "Yes."

Seungcheol stands up, dragging his hands up your legs and gently pushing them apart so he can get on the bed, nestling himself between your thighs while on his knees. 

“Lean back, baby,” he says, and you let yourself fall back onto the fluffed pillows.

What Seungcheol doesn't expect is for you to grab at his belt, pulling him down with you. He falls into your chest with an oof, your heads almost knocking against each other.

"Baby," Seungcheol lets out a deep whine from the back of his throat as he sits back up. You make grabby hands at his waist. "Baby, wait," he laughs, grabbing you by the wrists and pinning your arms down on either side of you, "what's gotten into you today?"

You're looking anywhere but into his eyes as you mumble something incoherent.

Seungcheol's still trying to catch your eyes though, "Hm? What was that, hun?" You don't have to be looking at him to know he's probably got that stupid grin on his face. Seungcheol finds this side of you cute.

You grumble something again, and Seungcheol can't help but let out a laugh, "Baby, you gotta speak up."

"I've been waiting all night!" You finally snap, eyes doing the same to look at him, only to shrink back from the intense way he's gazing back at you.

"Well, you'll have to wait just a little bit longer." Seungcheol moves your arms above your head as you try to squirm out of his hold. He tuts at you, shifting to hold both your wrists with one hand, taking your face in his other. Heat radiates off his hand as he cups your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb, "Can you do that? For me?"

Your voice catches in your throat, and you nod dumbly in response.

Seungcheol leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his hot breath fanning across your face as you close your eyes. “You look beautiful tonight, baby,” he says softly, placing a feathery kiss on one cheek. Then your nose. Then the corner of your mouth. “Let me show you, yeah?”

You nod, eyes closed, still unable to speak, holding your breath in anticipation. Despite being married for years, your husband still made you feel like the shy, blushing bride you used to be. 

You feel Seungcheol’s lips against yours, warm and plush. You sigh into the kiss, body melting into the mattress as you relax. Under Seungcheol, you were putty. He grips tighter at your jaw, tilting your head up so he can deepen the kiss, nipping at your lower lip as he does so. Your lips part, giving entry to Seungcheol’s tongue, and he licks into your mouth, swallowing the moans coming out of you. 

Heat pools in your gut and you can feel yourself needing more of Seungcheol than just his lips.

As if on cue, Seungcheol gives your wrists a soft squeeze before releasing them. His lips leave yours for just a moment as he shifts, now straddling one of your legs. 

Both his hands are then back on your face, gripping your cheeks firmly as he kisses you again, sucking on your lower lip. He places a wet kiss on your chin, then moves down your neck, placing kisses as he goes.

Seungcheol sucks softly on the sensitive hollow of your neck at the same time that your feel his thigh brush against your clothed cunt. Your hand fly to his hair, fingers tangling in his soft strands, “Seungcheol.” You let out a breathy gasp as he moves his thigh against your soaked panties, eyes rolling back as Seungcheol continues to pepper kisses down your neck, back to your jawline, to the tops of your shoulders.

“You—” kiss, “—drive me—” kiss, “—absolutely crazy.”

Kiss.

Seungcheol's teeth graze where your neck meets your shoulder and your breath hitches, letting out another choked gasp. He bites down, sucking harshly at the spot and your fingers tug at his hair, making him groan into your skin. Your hips involuntarily buck against his thigh again, and he clenches his thigh muscles once more, a light whimper leaving your mouth.

You slip your hands down to clutch his shoulders as you start to roll your hips against his thigh, chasing the pleasure from the friction. 

Seungcheol is relentless though as he attacks your neck and chest with his mouth, placing kisses and sucking bruises into every expanse of skin he can.

"Seung-seungcheol, Cheol, please, I need mor—ohh,” you cry out. By now, you were rutting against his thigh, your arousal undeniably having soaked through your thin lace panties, leaving a wet spot on his pants.

Seungcheol keeps his thigh firmly against your cunt, letting you grind, knowing it'd never be enough to fully satisfy you anyhow. Besides, he loves the feeling of your wetness seeping through his pants, loves the way your own thighs wind tighter around his as you chase your high, and absolutely adores the way your hips jolt every time he sucks an extra sensitive part of your skin.

Seungcheol pulls the straps of your dress off your shoulder, yanking the dress further down, trying to get access to your breasts, but getting increasingly more frusterated at the excess cloth now bunching up around your waist. Grabbing the silky fabric with both his hands, he tears it in two like it's tissue, tossing it over the side of the bed.

"Been wanting to do that all night," Seungcheol growls before grappling with the next beast, your bra hooks. "Arch your back for me baby," and you're quick to do as he says, arching your back so he can unclasp your bra, taking it off and tossing it away like the dress, leaving you in just your panties.

Seungcheol pauses, taking you in. Wanting to commit every bit of you in this moment to his memory. How swollen your lips are. The crazy mane of hair haloed around your head, splayed against the pillows. The red lovebites scattered all over your neck and chest that are blooming into a deep purple. He watches as your chest rises with the little huffs of your breath, nipples perked in excitement, when your blissed out face slowly morphs into a frown.

Seungcheol tilts his head in concern, "What is it, baby? What's wrong?"

“You're still wearing your clothes,” you pout and Seungcheol lets out a laugh. He brings his hands up to your jaw, holding your head in place as you try to shy away, capturing your lips in a languid kiss.

Seungcheol replaces his lips with his thumb, gently prodding, "Open up sweetheart."

You obey almost instantaneously. You always do.

Seungcheol, presses his thumb into your mouth, tilting your head up by your chin. “Suck,” and you do without hesitation, hungrily sucking at his thumb before he pulls it out with a pop.

He brings his hand down to one of your breasts, brushing his wet thumb tentatively over your nipple.

You let out a shuddering gasp, turned moan, as Seungcheol moves his other hand down as well, fondling your breasts and rubbing circles over your areolas. You can't help but pant as he dips down to capture one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongune around your nipple, pinching and twisting the other nub with his fingers.

“Oh god, Cheol,” your voice quivers as you arch your back from the sensations, hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders, moving up them to pull at the little hairs on the nap of his neck.

You wanted more though; you wanted to feel more. You wanted to feel him.

First things first though, Seungcheol is far too clothed. As Seungcheol comes up from your breasts, you claw at his belt. He straightens out, leaning a little so you can reach better. Hands fumbling, you unclip his belt, pulling it out and throwing it aside. Metal clinks against wood as it hits a table leg, but you pay it no mind. Tugging his shirt out from underneath his waistband, Seungcheol watches silently as your fingers finish unbuttoning it. He unrolls his sleeves and undoes his cuffs so he can take it off.

It's slow. It's all too slow. You want it off him now. A whine slips out of you and Seungcheol's eyes crinkle as he smiles, undoing the last cuff. "You're so impatient today, baby." He pulls his shirt off, discarding it amongst the other forgotten clothes.

You don't even bother responding, instead too busy drooling over the sight of your husband. Broad chest, big shoulders, strong laterals.

Seungcheol starts to unclasp the gold watch on his wrist when you stutter out a, “W-wait, don’t.” He pauses, hand still on his watch band, and lifts an eyebrow.

“You don’t want me to take it off?”

You nod shyly and it takes everything in him not to coo at you. He bites down on his bottom lip, nodding and trying not to smile as he reclips the watch, making sure it’s snug and doesn’t jostle.

Seungcheol climbs off the bed, unbuttoning his suit pants and bending over to pull them down and off. You turn on your side, propping yourself up on one elbow to watch him, eyes roaming down the smooth expanse of his back, all the way down to his phat dump truck of an ass. Tight black boxer briefs stretch across cheeks so round you could bounce a coin off them.

Not that you’d ever admit it, but, if you’re being honest, that ass is half the reason you married Seungcheol.

“Baby, if you keep staring at my ass like that, I'm gonna come before I even make back to bed,” he sends you a cheeky grin before coming to pounce on you, attacking your lips with a hungry kiss. Gone is your soft, patient, cheeky husband from before. This one was insatiable. He kisses you like a man in a drought and you’re the only source of water left on the planet. 

You let your hands ghost across Seungcheol's chest as he kisses you. He shivers at the touch of your fingers mapping out every muscle of his abdominals. 

He settles back between your legs and you feel the bulge of his cock against your soaked panties, moaning against his mouth as he bucks his hips into yours. 

You can't wait any longer. Already, this night has gone on longer than you wanted.

"Seungcheol," you gasp as his bulge grazes deliciously across your clit. You pull at the waistband of his underwear and it snaps against his skin, making him yelp, nipping at your jaw.

"What, baby?" Seungcheol voice is haggard. He's panting just as hard as you, and his pupils are blown full of lust, and love.

You let your hand trail under his waistband, fingers circling around his fully erect cock, then give him the firmest of strokes.

Seungcheol almost keels over. "Baby," he hisses, "what do you want?"

"You."

There was nothing else you wanted tonight, except to feel him. All of him.

Seungcheol closes his eyes as you thumb over his slit, entire body jerking forward.

"Baby, you always have me, every part of me," Seungcheol grits through his teeth, "But if you keep going like that, I don't think I'm gonna last much longer.

You slip your hand back out, holding them up to Seungcheol, as if to show, look, I'm being a good girl. Now fuck me already. Seungcheol swallows hard.

Next thing you know, he’s tearing your panties off. “Seungcheol!” you squawk. You liked that pair, they’d matched your favourite black bra.

“Baby,” Seungcheol croons as he gently pries your legs further apart. He pulls his cock out, rubbing it against your entrance, letting it coat in all your juices. “I'll buy you a hundred more of those if you want." He pushes just the tip in, "Is that what your want?"

"More," you keened, "Cheol I need more." You drag your lower lip up with your teeth, the stretch of Seungcheol feeling so good.

"More?" Seungcheol pushes further in, slowly, letting you adjust to his size, "I'll buy you a thousand more. A million more. Just say the word, baby." You gasp as Seungcheol pushes all the way in to the hilt. He swoops down to kiss you as you tear up a little from the stretch. The sting of his cock fades into a different feeling, one that has pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Can I move, baby?" Seungcheol's voice is sounding a little breathless.

"Please," you beg. Seungcheol begins to move, thrusting at a laborious pace. He has his hands braced on either side of your head and he watches your face, every scrunch of your eyebrows, every bite of your lips, the little gasps that leave your mouth as he picks up the pace.

"Oh, Cheol, right there—"

"God, you feel so good baby—"

"Faster Cheol, please, that feels so good."

Seungcheol brings a hand down to rubs circles on your clit and he almost sees white when you clench around him in reaction. Sounds of your moans laced over Seungcheol's fill the air, mixed with the sound of skin slapping skin.

"Cheol, I'm gonna—"

"Let go for me, baby, come on." And as always, you obey.

You let out a cry as your orgasm ripples through you. Seungcheol does the same as he feels you clench around him, grunting as he thrusts and fills you up with his cum.

Seungcheol waits for you to come down from your high before rolling over and collapsing next to you on the bed. You can feel his cum trickle out of you and down your thigh.

He brings an arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. "I'll clean you up in a bit baby. Lets just lay like this for a little while."

You hum into his chest, too tired to respond. But not so tired that you don't let your hands travel around his waist and wander down to his butt, giving one of his cheeks a soft squeeze.

"I love you too, baby," Seungcheol sighs.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[thedensworld]

Energy Charger | Y.Jh

Pairing: Dad Jeonghan x reader

Genre: Dad au!

Type: fluff

Word Count: 2k

Preview: Jeonghan's finally hitting the gym again to balance his son's energy

Jeonghan glanced up mid-run, sweat starting to bead along his temple as his eyes landed on Mingyu, who stood frozen a few meters away, staring at him in disbelief. Jeonghan slowed his pace just enough to tap his phone and lower the volume of his music—a hastily made playlist he threw together in the car minutes before stepping foot into the gym. The scent of new rubber floors, mixed with distant body spray and the faint clang of weights, wrapped around him. He had just signed up for a membership this morning. His name was probably still warm in the system.

“Jeonghan hyung… in the gym?” Mingyu asked no one in particular, squinting as if trying to determine whether the treadmill display or his eyes were lying to him.

But there he was. Jeonghan, in a fitted black shirt and joggers, hair tied loosely to keep it from sticking to his neck, running with mild determination. He shot Mingyu a flying kiss, too breathless to wave, and then refocused on his stride. He could feel his energy meter dropping fast—probably hovering around 30%—but he just needed to power through five more minutes. Five more minutes, and he could lie down on the floor like a dramatic actor in a war movie.

By the time Mingyu returned in his own gym gear, Jeonghan was finishing up his cooldown. He was slightly hunched, hands on his hips, catching his breath like someone who’d just climbed a mountain barefoot.

“Hyung! Fancy seeing you here. I love it,” Mingyu beamed, wiping his damp hands with a towel before bouncing over to him.

Jeonghan yanked out one earbud and exhaled heavily. “Don’t amuse yourself too much, Mingyu. I think my lungs are trying to file a complaint.”

Mingyu let out a laugh and immediately whipped out his phone. “No, this needs to go in the group chat. Everyone’s gotta see this. This is legendary, hyung.”

Jeonghan chuckled, still panting. “Is working out always this draining?” he asked, voice raw with effort but genuine curiosity. “Because right now, I feel like my soul’s trying to leave my body.”

Mingyu gave him a knowing smile. “It’s just your body adjusting. You’ll feel like dying for a few days, then it gets better. I promise. Wait—are you here alone? Or did Y/n drag you here by the collar?”

“I’m alone,” Jeonghan answered with a soft laugh, running a hand through his damp bangs. Even to him, it felt a little ridiculous. He knew how it looked.

After all, it wasn’t like he hated physical activity. Quite the opposite. He loved sports. He played basketball twice a week with the members. He used to jog casually near the Han River with you while Hajoon was at daycare. He even enjoyed the occasional round of badminton in the courtyard on weekends. But the gym? The gym was a different beast.

Lately, though… he felt it. Really felt it.

The way his knees cracked when he crouched down to tie Hajoon’s shoes. How a ten-minute play session left him gasping like he’d run a marathon. Or worse—the slight, shameful dizziness after a heavy kissing session with you. That one was dangerous. That was the final red flag. It told him everything he needed to know about where his body was headed.

“It’s the time, Jeonghan…” Seungcheol had told him a few nights ago, arms crossed like a prophet delivering hard truths.

Jeonghan had been sitting on the couch with a heating pad on his lower back, recounting the odd twinges and complaints his body had started making.

Seungcheol sighed and shook his head, half amused, half serious. “It’s time for you to hit the gym. Replenish the energy. Get ahead of it before the damage becomes permanent.”

And that was all it took. That one conversation, plus the memory of you laughing softly when he groaned after sitting down, was enough for him to lace up his shoes this morning and walk into the gym like a man stepping into battle.

When you and Jeonghan found out you were pregnant with Hajoon five years ago, the both of you were over the moon. He was ecstatic—radiating joy with every step, telling anyone who would listen that he was going to be a dad. But truthfully, there was something he never admitted to you.

An hour before the ultrasound appointment—the one that would reveal whether you were having a boy or a girl—he quietly nursed a hope in his heart.

He wished for a girl.

He imagined a tiny version of you, with your hair, your eyes, your warm smile, and maybe—just maybe—his calm, grounding presence. A little girl with your energy but his way of making peace. Perfect. A dream.

So when the doctor smiled at the screen and said, “Congratulations, you're having a boy,” Jeonghan smiled too, genuinely, because he was grateful. But deep down, he sighed. He expected this. Of course life would bless him with a mini version of himself—a wild, unpredictable, chaos-filled boy.

And oh, he was right.

“Appa is home!” Hajoon shouted from the hallway like a siren announcing Jeonghan’s return from war. His tiny shoes squeaked against the floor as he stormed into the house with enough energy to power the city.

You barely looked up from your phone as Hajoon declared his next mission, “Eomma, play the song! I’m gonna teach Appa the dance!”

Jeonghan exhaled deeply as he dropped his gym bag by the door and began undoing his shoes with slow, deliberate movements—like a man bracing himself for battle round two. He stepped into the family room and spotted Hajoon standing in front of the TV, already stretching like a professional performer.

He was not ready. Not even close.

Jeonghan flopped down beside you on the couch, and you handed him a cold bottle of water as a silent offering of peace. He took it gratefully, chugging half of it in one go while Hajoon began his one-kid variety show.

The performance began with a high jump, followed by an overly dramatic tumble, a front roll that ended in a slightly crooked landing, and then—floor work. Lots of it.

Jeonghan watched in awe, horror, and mild amusement. “He’s too powerful,” he muttered under his breath. Just watching Hajoon was draining him—his energy dropped a full 10% before he even stood up. Meanwhile, you were right next to him, sipping your tea like it was a spa day, visibly recharging as your son sapped his father's will to move.

“You’re killing me,” Jeonghan mumbled, running a hand through his hair, utterly disbelieving that this was his life now. “I just got back from the gym and now I have to roll on the floor?”

“Come on, Appa! You can do it! You’re Seventeen,” Hajoon chirped with the sweetest grin and a sparkle in his eye—completely unaware of the irony. To him, Seventeen meant superheroes.

You burst into a quiet laugh at that, shaking your head. The irony was too good. Hajoon had no idea his father spent most of his career strategically avoiding the intense acrobatics. Jeonghan’s idea of dancing was standing center stage, smiling prettily while Performance Unit did death-defying spins around him.

“I did dance, Hajoon,” Jeonghan began defensively. “But it was always Uncle Soonyoung and Uncle Chan who did that stuff. I was more of a… graceful walker.”

But Hajoon was already pouting, bottom lip sticking out in the kind of way that could guilt-trip a stone wall. “So you don’t want to do it?” he asked, his voice soft and accusing in that special way only four-year-olds could master.

Jeonghan looked at you, helpless. You were trying not to laugh too hard.

And then Hajoon turned the volume up—emotionally, not literally. “That’s okay, Appa. I’ll dance alone. Maybe Uncle Mingyu wants to dance with me…”

Jeonghan sighed in defeat, dragging his feet off the floor like they weighed fifty pounds. “Fine, fine… Appa will do it. Just don’t send videos to Uncle Seungcheol or Uncle Joshua this time.”

You smiled sweetly, already hitting record.

*

“It looks like you just survived a war,” you remarked as soon as Jeonghan stepped into the bedroom, hair slightly disheveled, shirt wrinkled, and a look of defeat etched on his face.

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. It was already 10 p.m. Which meant he had spent the last thirty minutes getting Hajoon to bed—after spending a full hour playing pretend dinosaurs. That wasn’t even the worst part. He had been the T-Rex the entire time.

“I have,” he mumbled dramatically before collapsing onto the bed beside you, sprawling out like a starfish washed up on dry land—completely drained, limbs outstretched in surrender.

“You’re amazing, honey,” you whispered, leaning in close to plant a soft kiss near his temple. Your voice was warm, full of affection—the kind that wrapped around him better than any blanket ever could.

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle. “I am.” He turned his head toward you, his expression smug but endearing. “But acting as a dinosaur for a full hour? Really?”

You giggled at the sheer absurdity of it. “He’s an active one. It means he feels safe with us. He trusts us enough to be wild.”

Jeonghan exhaled, his voice dropping into something between a sigh and a groan. “I know, babe. I know… but,” he paused for dramatic effect, “I genuinely don’t think I can make it to fifty at this rate. My back has filed for early retirement.”

You slapped his arm lightly, laughing. “You hit the gym today, didn’t you? How was that?”

“It made everything worse,” he confessed, flinging his arm over his eyes. “How do you work out every day and still manage to keep up with Hajoon? Are you… a goddess or something?” His lips curled into a teasing smirk.

You rolled your eyes, amused. “You’re just starting, love. Of course it’s going to be exhausting. Your body’s in shock right now.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek, lingering for a second longer than usual.

Jeonghan smiled, letting the warmth of your kiss sink into him like sunlight. “Maybe I wouldn’t get this tired if you kiss me like that every day after my gym sessions,” he said, hopeful.

You shrugged playfully. “If it helps, sure.”

His head snapped toward you with sudden enthusiasm. “Really? Like, energy-charging kisses every day?” His tone was half-joking, half-pleading.

You nodded, trying to hold back a laugh. “And maybe I’ll convince Hajoon to just hug you instead of choreographing an entire contemporary dance for you in the living room.”

A low groan escaped him, and he immediately reached over, pulling you into his arms as if he were clinging to salvation. “Please do.”

And now, it had become a routine—Jeonghan started his day with a groggy alarm, mild existential dread, and a grudging determination to “be strong again,” as he mumbled into his morning coffee.

By 7 a.m., he’d be at the gym.

The first week was rough. His body ached in places he didn’t know existed. But by the second week, something worse began—the members found out.

They started greeting him like he was joining the military.

“Captain Jeonghan!” Soonyoung would salute dramatically, clapping the back of his shoulder. “Reporting for duty in sweat and glory!”

“Hyung, if you pass out doing deadlifts, just blink twice. I’ll come running,” Jihoon added one morning, voice laced with mischief as he sipped his protein shake like it was tea.

Even Mingyu, the gym’s unofficial mascot, greeted him with mock sincerity. “Welcome, brother. May your core survive leg day.” He said it like a pastor giving a blessing.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes every time but couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The teasing was endless, but underneath it all, he knew they were proud. Supportive, even. In their own unhinged ways.

And to be fair… he was beginning to feel good. His body didn’t complain as much. He could carry Hajoon on his shoulders again without needing to sit down afterward. His back cracked less.

But the best part came when he walked through the front door after every workout.

“APPA!!” Hajoon would come running, arms open wide like a missile of joy, crashing into Jeonghan’s legs with all the strength his tiny body could muster.

“Energy charge hug!” Hajoon would announce proudly, wrapping his arms tightly around his dad’s waist like he was transferring superpowers.

Every time, Jeonghan would pretend to stagger like Hajoon’s hug had hit him with ten volts of lightning. “Whoa—full power received!” he’d say, scooping him up into the air.

Sometimes, Hajoon would squish Jeonghan’s cheeks and add a bonus kiss to the forehead. “This one is for stamina,” he’d say seriously, as if he were casting a spell.

And every single time, Jeonghan would look over to you—standing in the kitchen or leaning by the hallway—his eyes soft, full of gratitude.

“This is worth every set,” he’d whisper one day, arms still full of Hajoon, hair damp from sweat, and heart completely full.

You smiled, walking up to him with a towel in one hand and a water bottle in the other, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Still want that kiss every post-gym session?”

“Now more than ever,” he murmured, leaning in for his daily recharge.

*

“I’ll do it!” Jeonghan declared, clapping the dirt from his hands as he stood and made his way over to where you were holding another sack of soil. A soft breeze rustled through the garden as Hajoon crouched down beside the freshly dug earth, his tiny face serious with focus as he scooped up a handful of soil, gently placed a seed, and covered it back up with care.

The quiet was broken by Jeonghan’s sudden groan—a half-whine, half-exaggerated cry of pain as he hoisted the sack over his shoulder.

Immediately, Hajoon’s head snapped up. Alarmed, he scrambled to his feet and dashed toward his father.

“Appa! I’ll give energy charge!” he cried, throwing his arms open wide and hugging Jeonghan’s leg tightly like a koala. His little face was full of concern, his small hands patting Jeonghan’s thigh like he was trying to heal him.

Caught off guard, Jeonghan laughed, his body slightly leaning with the sudden weight of his son clinging to him. One of his feet still throbbed from the stone he’d accidentally stepped on—the real reason for his dramatic groan—but Hajoon didn’t need to know that.

“Thank you, Hajoon!” Jeonghan grinned, ruffling his son’s hair. “You’re the best energy charger in the world. I’m strong now because of you.”

You laughed from the other side of the garden, one hand shading your eyes from the sun, the other resting on your growing belly. The sight of them—your wild little boy and your now super-fit husband—was too sweet not to savor.

Jeonghan really was stronger than ever. After a full year of waking up before dawn to hit the gym—often before you or Hajoon were even awake—he had slowly transformed into what Hajoon proudly called “Superman Appa.” But your son, in his innocent world, was convinced that his hugs and kisses were the real reason his father could now carry heavy sacks, run around the yard for hours, and still have energy left to dance before bedtime.

And honestly? Maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“He’s cute,” Jeonghan murmured, glancing toward you with soft eyes as he picked up a trowel and returned to work. The little garden you’d dreamed of for months was finally starting to take shape—roughly 50% done, but already looking like something out of a cozy storybook.

“What do you want planted here, love?” Jeonghan asked, gesturing to the small collection of seeds—cabbage, chili, and tomato. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair messy, and his skin glowing from sun and sweat.

You walked over slowly, cradling your belly with both hands, the shape of your baby girl gently rounding under your dress. “Let’s put cabbage first.”

“Yes! I like cabbage!” Hajoon chimed in, suddenly very involved in the decision-making.

Jeonghan nodded and handed the cabbage seeds to Hajoon, a spark of playful mischief lighting his eyes. “Alright, race time! First one to bury a cabbage seed gets to kiss Eomma and the baby sister!”

“I’m going to win!” Hajoon shrieked with a giggle, immediately dropping to his knees and scooping soil like a boy on a mission.

Jeonghan grinned and lowered himself next to him, keeping pace just enough to make it close. The sun warmed your skin, birds chirped overhead, and laughter echoed across the yard as your family dug into the dirt—not just planting seeds, but growing memories you knew would last forever.

The end.

[going-fanfics17]

Fourteenth Member of Seventeen : Sara

Bodyguard Seventeen reporting for duty pt. 4

Stranger Danger :

TW: Harassment, Stalking, Injury, Sasaengs.

Maestro Promotions week : Sara's age - 21 (2024)

China had never been that pleasant to the Seventeen members. Getting mobbed at the airport was something that was common at this point. But following the artists to their hotel was not common at all.

Sara pulled the hood of Wonwoo's hoodie closer so that his face was hidden from the constant flashes as she and Jeonghan held his hands, guiding him through the airport crowd consisting of screaming fans, blinding flashes, bodyguards shoving people and hands reaching out towards them wildly.

"We are almost out hyung," she whispered to Wonwoo as she squeezed his hand, offering him comfort.

Wonwoo nodded gratefully. Just as they were almost out, Sara looked around and her eyes fell on two men standing at one side, away from the screaming fans. She almost froze. Both men had sinister smiles on their faces and looked at her with a gaze that she could only describe as evil.

One of them mouthed something that sent chills down her spine; 'YOU ARE OURS!'

She looked away, head down and almost dragged Wonwoo along with her. He stumbled lightly at the sudden force but maintained his balance. Jeonghan noticed her quickened pace as did Wonwoo but nobody said anything as they entered their respective cars, free from the crowd.

As soon as she got into the car with her manager she pulled the curtains around her window and positioned the AC vent right in front of her face.

"You okay?" her manager Ellie asked her.

"I am fine," she said. "Hate big crowds that's all"

She knew those men, they had been harassing her online and stalking her for months. Sara had not told her members about it. They were dealing with a lot on their own and she didn't want to burden them. She was an adult now, she couldn't keep on asking for help or protection from her brothers, they were busy.

So she had reported it to management and what they found was even more horrifying. Those men had accounts containing detailed posts of what they would do to her if she was captured by them. It wasn't romantic, it was creepy. Their accounts had been flagged down multiple times and restraining orders had been requested but the police maintained the stance that since no physical harm had been done, they couldn't provide a restraining order yet. Management was still on it and Sara had requested them to not inform her brothers.

They reached the hotel and a whole floor had been booked for them. Sara wheeled her luggage into her room and locked the door.

She changed into comfortable clothes for the pre-recording of their concert and went downstairs to the lunch area.

"Eat well," Jun said to her as he handed her multiple plates of raw meat for the hotpot.

She took them back to the round table and placed them around the hotpot. The guys would cook and place meat on her plate either way.

She went and made the sauce for herself and sat down beside Dino.

"You seem stressed," Dino said, stroking her hair.

"Just tired," she smiled back.

After lunch they headed for rehearsals and then came back to their rooms after dinner.

Sara's room was dark except for the lights that streamed in from the tall skyscrapers in Shanghai. She sighed as the cool airconditioner hit her and took a drink from the sealed bottle on the table. She was about to lie down when a hand covered her mouth roughly.

She immediately went into defense mode, trying to get the man off her. She elbowed him in the stomach and bit his hand. Without waiting for a moment, Sara dashed towards her door but another man blocked her way. They were the same men who were at the airport that morning.

"Darling calm down, we can treat you well," one of them cooed.

She shook her head, she had read their posts. It was anything but treat her well. They had planned to breed her and do other unspeakable things.

Sara grabbed the jar of water, throwing it at the man. Glass shattered as the man behind her hit her head. But she would not give up. She threw a punch in the dark and hit one of them. He staggered backwards as she snatched a knife from the table and held it tightly.

"Don't be stupid Sara," he warned her.

Her vision blurred and her movements became sluggish as she tried to stab the man. He grabbed her by the back of her head and slammed her face on the table.

She groaned as blood trickled down her nose.

"Now be a good girl," one of them said in her ear as he hoisted her on his shoulder.

The door opened as DK and Hoshi entered, "Let's have a sleepover!" they screamed happily before their eyes landed on the scene in front of them.

The happy demeanor immediately got replaced by anger and disbelief.

They both attacked the men as DK screamed loudly for help.

That scream attracted Scoups and Mingyu out of their rooms first. They were enraged and attacked as well as Sara lay unconscious on her room floor, being thrown there in the fight.

The commotion drew all the other members, staff and bodyguards who were called by the staff as thirteen Seventeen members mercilessly beat up the intruders before the bodyguards pulled them off and took away the still struggling men in handcuffs.

Seungkwan knelt beside her, checking her pulse before Woozi lifted her and placed her on the bed.

"Call the doctor," he said urgently.

--------------------------------------------

Hours later :

Sara woke up in the early hours of morning. Her nose felt heavy and she reached out to touch it. It was plastered tightly.

She looked around, not her room. Her eyes landed on all her brothers, two of them beside her, some on the couch, the chair and the rest on the floor.

But then she turned and Scoups was directly staring at her.

He woke up the others as Sara sat up on the bed, hiding into herself. She couldn't bring herself to look at the others.

"You know you can talk to us about the dangerous things people say to you on social media, right?" Wonwoo asked softly trying to calm the stormy and tense situation.

They weren't mad at her or disappointed. Sure, Scoups was a bit mad, at himself. He as the leader should have paid more attention, should have continued checking the online status of all the members of the group like he used to. But he had been swamped and he felt guilty, knowing that he could have prevented this.

"I told management, I thought that would be enough," she said, her voice small.

"We know, but why not us? You always come to us," Hoshi asked, confused.

"I am an adult now. I don't want everyone to feel burdened by my issues, I thought I could handle it. You all have been so busy and worried and I didn't want to add to it!"

"We are never too busy or too stressed for you or anyone in this group," Woozi spoke up, his voice gentle yet stern.

"So what if you are an adult? We are still your brothers. Look at how we treat Dino and you. No matter how old you guys get, you are still our precious maknaes!" Minghao said.

"You could never burden us kiddo," Jun kissed her forehead.

"Just because you are an adult now doesn't mean you need to handle everything on your own," Joshua reminded her softly.

"I am sorry. It was just so scary. I have been taking defense classes but they still managed to knock me down," she broke down.

Wonwoo who was sitting beside her immediately pulled her into his arms, running his hands through her hair as he let her cry it out. The other members hugged her too, forming a protective circle and eventually a group hug.

She needed therapy, stricter bodyguards at hotels and a social media ban. All the members had already discussed it with management and would let her know after she was a bit more relaxed.

For now they just focused on making her feel safe and making sure those men never touched her again.

[mahteeez]

⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄

(Joshua, Seokmin, e Seungcheol x Leitora)

⢷⠀Gênero: Smut, pwp.

⢷⠀Avisos: MDNI, foursome, degradação, anal, bastante dirty talk, palavras de baixo calão, sexo explícito, e só (?)

⢷⠀Notas: Sei que tá bem tarde, mas se eu deixasse pra corrigir e postar só amanhã, eu provavelmente acabaria desistindo, e eu não vou surtar sozinha! Aliás, uma diva havia sugerido essa ideia, espero que você leia isso também.

O cheirinho característico de praia estava no ar, os rastros de areia ainda espalhados pelo chão. A luz do pôr do sol vazava pelas cortinas mal fechadas, como se até ele quisesse assistir àquele showzinho nada menos que pornográfico.

Você estava de quatro, suando, babando, com o corpo todo trêmulo, e três dos homens mais gostosos que você já viu na vida te transformando em nada além de uma bonequinha de foda, com seus buraquinhos sendo usados como depósito de porra para o agrado deles.

O primeiro, Seungcheol, segurava seu cabelo com força, os dedos firmes no couro cabeludo, te forçando a olhar pra cima como uma cadelinha boazinha que ele acabara de adestrar.

— Vai, princesa, você consegue. Abre essa boquinha pra mim. — Ele diz, esfregando a cabecinha do pau nos seus lábios. — Vou deixar essa garganta toda fodida.

Você geme baixinho e obedece. Olhos marejados, boca escancarada, língua pra fora .E ele entra. Fundo. Sem dó.

— Caralho... — Ele rosna, obsceno. — Viu só como você consegue? Uma putinha boa dessas sempre consegue.

Seungcheol ri, se deliciando com o som dos seus engasgos, com o modo como seus olhinhos apertam com força toda vez que ele vai mais fundo. Tão burrinha por pau.

O segundo, Joshua, está deitado sob você, a boca faminta sugando seus peitinhos com tanta sede, mordiscando os biquinhos vez ou outra só pra ver seu corpo se arrepiar inteiro e sentir sua buceta pulsar ao redor do pau dele.

O cacete, brilhando tanto pela própria porra quanto pelos seus fluídos, desliza com facilidade por entre suas dobras, indo fundo, fazendo seu grelinho roçar gostosinho por toda a extensão.

— Essa bucetinha gulosa aguenta tudo, é? — Ele provoca, rindo baixinho do gemido que você nem consegue soltar. — Vou te deixar toda larguinha.

Joshua acelera, metendo com mais força, usando sua buceta como um brinquedinho maleável, como se o seu interior pudesse ser facilmente moldado pelo pau dele.

E o terceiro, Seokmin, estava ajoelhado atrás de você. As mãos dele seguravam suas nádegas, abrindo o quanto podia, enquanto ele cuspia na entrada do seu cuzinho, espalhando a saliva com a cabecinha.

A entrada foi quase mortificante, seu buraquinho se contraía, quase impedindo a intromissão, mas logo cedeu. Você gritou chorosa na primeira investida, mas não faltou mimo para acalmar.

— Tão apertadinha e ainda assim sugando meu pau com tanta força. — Seokmin diz, mantendo o ritmo moderado. Você se sente tão cheia. — Eu vou encher esse cuzinho de porra, é isso que uma putinha como você quer, né? Dando pra três de uma vez só, deixando eles entupirem você. Você é do caralho, viu, garota.

— Espero que não desmaie ainda. Não seria nada gentil da sua parte não pegar tudo que estamos oferecendo a você — Seungcheol agarra seus cabelos em um rabo de cavalo, bate o pau pesado e babado no seu rosto, olhando no fundo dos seus olhos com presunção.

— A bonequinha gosta de uma coisa mais pesada mesmo… se vocês sentissem como essa buceta tá pulsando aqui… — Joshua comenta, levando o dígito até o botãozinho carente e circulando ali. Você se contrai, choraminga. — Do caralho.

Eles riem em conjunto dos comentários. Você até queria responder, mas não consegue, tão deliciosamente preenchida e recebendo atenção deles, que pouco importava qualquer outra coisa. Você está ganhando o que quer. Isso basta.

Gostou? Dá uma forcinha aí! Uma curtida, um reblog ou um comentário são mais do que suficientes para eu saber que você se agradou com meu conteúdo :)

Até a próxima, bjsss <3

[haologram]

dipped ⌁ c.sc [m]

↳ part of the carat bay collab!

⌁ synopsis: your summers since university have always been spent spinning in odd circles around town, pockets overflowing with cash - until your clerical 9-5 lays you off for 'spring cleaning.' luckily, you find a summer job fast: tending to the 'adults only' section of your local waterpark, and being at choi seungcheol's beck and call. ⌁ genre: stupid big dumb idiots to lovers ; angst, fluff, smut. ⌁ pairing: grad student!choi seungcheol x fem!lifeguard!reader ⌁ word count: 33.8k ⌁ rating: 18+. minors do not interact. ⌁ warnings: swearing, alcohol, smoking (weed), mentions of past sports-related injuries (seungcheol), one weird encounter with a creep (yn and seungcheol) ; wonpil + brian of day6 mentioned as side characters and i'm SORRY i LOVE wonpil + brian okay don't say shit to me ; seungcheol is a flirty fuck and very much rolls with the punches ; yn has many Issues™ (read: no contact with her parents, fucks her roommate, stands by girl code religiously (lies), has a weird relationship with aftercare) ; lots of calling people whores and sluts (listen...just...okay?) ; so. many. insults. ; mentions of joshua x reader because i love making things extra spicy ; yn does NAWWWT like seungcheol (yes she does) ; pet/nicknames: lifeguard barbie, babe, princess, etc || smut warnings: unprotected sex ; making out (they kiss...so much...free me), dry humping/grinding, nipple play (m/f. rec), body worship (m/f rec.) because it's not a haologram fic without body worship and nipple play ; oral (m/f rec.), handjob, fingering (f. rec), cumplay/swapping (?) ; kinda subby!cheol but it just depends on how you see it i guess ; begging ; missionary, creampie ; i think that's it! ⌁ what to listen to: bad romance - lady gaga ; yo voy - zion y lenox ; fear of water - noah kahan ; fine line - harry styles ; there is light in us - mathbonus ; the beach - the neighbourhood ; saturn - sleeping at last ; i'm gonna love you - d.o, wonstein. ⌁ author's note: preface: me posting this is not condoning gyucheol's recent behaviors [read my stance on it here + here.] i am fulfilling a commitment i made before they went on the showterview. that being said: i definitely lost the plot several times and i am so sorry for that :( this is officially seungcheol's debut on haologram! also apologies for the smut, i know it's ass. thank you to @camandemstudios for sponsoring this video fic, and thank you to my lovely wonderful amazing betas that didn't even get to read most of this because i'm insane: viv @heartepub ; aeris @aeristudios ; tomo @tomodachiii 💘 as usual, sun dividers by the lovely @/saradika-graphics here on tumblr! enjoy! (or don't....i don't care [as])

"SO YOU GOT LAID OFF. IT'S FINE, Y/N. WE'LL FIGURE IT OUT."

You hate to say it, but you don't think you've ever hated your roommate more than you do at this very moment.

"It's fine? Joshua, I'm fifteen thousand dollars in debt, okay? I have rent, I have groceries, I have to pay my phone bill! How am I supposed to get by without my job?!"

He looks over the magazine in his hand with a confused look, "Y/N, I pay all that stuff and I just sent in a check a few weeks ago for your student loans. We've been on the same phone plan since you cut off your parents, and you pay our light bill. Which is never over sixty dollars, because neither of us are ever home. Don't play with me right now."

"Joshua!"

He sighs, tossing the magazine back onto the coffee table as you cross your arms on your chest. He's looking at you like you've grown a second head, as if his reaction to this information is perfectly valid and you are the one getting your panties in a twist. Granted, it's only been a few hours since you got home from the horrible Friday of sitting at a desk and getting paid to do nothing but answer the phone and book one or two appointments – but you're in distress, damnit!

"What do you want me to say, Y/N? I've got you? Because you know I do." You hate the way your heart warms at that. It was true – Joshua was your best friend through and through. He'd saved you from so many odd situations – including the time you somehow let a pipe burst in your old student apartment, and he found a way to blame it on the university (read: coaxed Yoon Jeonghan to fuck up more parts of your apartment with a promise of letting him borrow his car for dates.) He'd been a huge rock in your years away from home, and when home was no longer home and your relationship with your parents crumbled.

Joshua was the only sense of home that you had left, and you'd be a fool not to recognize the fruits of his efforts: the apartment you both safely inhabited, the food in your belly and the unlimited storage plan he paid for that allowed you to download multiple oddball games of the Doodle Jump and Candy Crush nature. You huff, choosing to plop down on the couch next to him with a pout on your lip.

"But I like having my own money." You mutter. "It helps me feel like an adult that contributes to society."

"You are an adult that contributes to society, Y/N. Don't be so hard on yourself." He reminds you, before reaching for the television remote. You open your mouth to argue when a soft zztt sound is heard, leaving you and Joshua sitting in the darkness. There is a moment of silence before you feel Joshua shift next to you, the only light coming from the setting sun through the blinds. You put your head in your hands, before Joshua sighs.

"You're not serious." You look up slightly, peeking at him through your fingers. From the low light, you can see the furrow in his brows and it only makes you let out a noise of guilt.

"Sixty dollars, Y/N. You didn't have sixty dollars?" "...I spent it all." Your voice is meek, and he runs a hand over his face slowly, a heavy breath from his nostrils sounding in your ears before he crosses his arms.

"On what? What could have possibly been more important than the light bill? You know we can't cook without it, right?" You feel your face grow hot as he gives you a pointed look, and you sigh. You avoid his eyes as you clear your throat. "You remember when you came home last week and you asked me where your green hoodie was? And I told you it was in my drawer and then you…you found the, uh…" You feel your throat grow tight in embarrassment as his eyes widen, and he covers his face with his hand.

"Let me get this straight, okay? You mean to tell me, you spent your last sixty dollars on that stupid vibrator? You didn't pay our light bill because you wanted to…I can't even look at you right now." He shakes his head in disbelief, moving to stand up when you grab his arm.

"I'm sorry! It has sixteen different settings, you wouldn't understand–" "Y/N, why do you even need that many?!" You let go of his arm, crossing yours with a huff as you stare at your feet. "Can't a girl want options?" "When it's between jerking off and paying your light bill, you don't get a choice. How would you feel if I wasted our grocery money on one of those inflatable fuck dolls?" "Embarrassed, honestly. You're a good looking guy, you can do better." He scoffs out a laugh, and you try to swallow the humiliated laugh that's crawling up your throat but it only slips out the moment he turns back around to look at you. He covers his face, crouching by the side of the couch before running his fingers through his hair and giving you a pointed look. "You know what? I was going to take it easy on you, but you've really just left me no choice." He shakes his head, digging his phone out of his pocket as your eyes widen. You lurch forward, knocking him over in your attempt to grab it out of his hand as he wriggles away from you. "Shua, no!" "Shua, yes! Sixty dollars on a piece of plastic, Y/N! I don't even perceive you as a romantic entity and I could do better!" "Hey! It's silicone!" You shove his shoulder as he manages to click around his contacts, before the phone starts dialing. You manage to climb onto his chest, your legs straddling his torso as your thighs pin him in place, your hand knocking the phone out of his hand just as he presses the speaker button.

"Hello?"

Jeonghan.

"No! Jeonghan–" Joshua manages to flip the two of you over, quickly pinning your arms to your sides as he straddles you. You let out a strangled groan, attempting to kick his back as Jeonghan's staticky, cynical laugh rings through his phone.

"Han, please tell me you still need a lifeguard to take over your spot this summer." Joshua breathes out, semi-out of breath as you manage to free one of your hands, reaching up and twisting his nipple through his shirt. He squeals, pushing your hand away and pinning it above you on the floor as you let out an aimless scream.

"Joshua, I'll see you on Monday, alright? Stop torturing that poor girl, she pays your light bill."

"That's the thing, Jeonghan! She didn't, so you have to let her take your spot. Please! I'll even shell out another week of paid vacation time for you!" Another thing about Joshua? Aside from the incredible efforts he put forth into your friendship, your roommate was also known to manage a waterpark with Yoon Jeonghan every summer; just six miles from your apartment was Carat Bay, where he'd been working since you were freshmen in college.

He also worked as a vocal coach from Monday to Friday at one of the local entertainment companies; but that was just for his Pokémon cards, his caffeine addiction, and the occasional ice cream from the convenience store down the street. Rarely did any of that money see the light of day, simply stacking interest in his savings account while he hoarded the money from his job at the waterpark to make last the whole year.

Out of all the odd jobs the two of you took (because Lord knows neither of you were using your degrees all that much) – his job at the company, the waterpark, and your clerical position were the steadiest. You would occasionally find yourself patrolling random hotel grounds on the weekends as security, or slipping into an apron to fill in for your friend Sana at her cafe for a bit more cash to stuff into your rainy day fund.

Sometimes Joshua would come home smelling like fried chicken (and carrying it, too) or with his face covered in grease from swooping in at Soonyoung's auto repair shop. The nights when the two of you were home were restless – scavenging newspapers and Craigslist ads for anything you could find: house sitting, housekeeping, even weekend nannying gigs.

Every penny that landed in Joshua's bank account was frugally spent – but it was smartly spent. Hence why you, not paying for the one thing he put in your name, is a big deal.

"Fine, I'll talk to you on Monday. I need to run some things by you before the park opens. Tell Y/N to get a bathing suit, preferably not that pretty pink one she wore to Junhui's birthday last year." "Oh, fuck off! I was the life of the party!" You scowl, attempting once more to free yourself from Joshua's grasp but ultimately failing. He giggles, like the lunatic he is, your roommate giggles.

"I'll see you on Monday, pretty girl. You and your nip slips." Jeonghan hangs up before you can retort, your sentence caught in your throat as Joshua smiles down at you smugly.

"I hate you." You grumble, before feeling his lips press to your forehead. You move your head to hit his face, but he swiftly moves back before you can make contact with his chin. "You love me. Now, go fetch me the bill from the fridge, I'll pay it." He climbs off you, letting go of your hand as you scowl. You make it a point to kick his hip, your heel meeting the socket and making him scoff before nudging his toe into your ribcage. "Go!"

The night is full of bickering after Joshua pays the bill, with muttered curses as you bump into things and open the front window to let the cooler night breeze flow through the room. You fan your face with the morning newspaper, with Joshua making a snide remark about you looking at the job offers in the Business section.

You retreat to your room for the night as he picks at you, and the lights turn on just as you pass the bathroom. He's finishing shaving his face in the dark, using the light of a candle to look at himself in the mirror. You roll your eyes, sliding into your room when he catches the door.

"What are you doing?" Your eyes are wide as your dripping roommate pushes past you, beelining for your dresser in the corner. He yanks open the top drawer, throwing a few pairs of your underwear over his shoulder. "Joshua!" "Aha!" He holds up the hot pink vibrator you'd spent the light bill money on, tilting it towards you. "You'll get this back after your first paycheck hits the bank, or when you start prioritizing things."

You scoff, reaching for it as he holds it over his head. "Joshua, give it back! I paid good money for that thing!" You grimace, "and you shouldn't be so comfortable grabbing my intimate items! I put that inside me!" "There are many other things you could put inside you that don't cost sixty dollars, Y/N." He rolls his eyes as you claw at his shirt, your fingernails sinking into his bicep as he shakes you off like a leaf. "Me included." "Joshua!" "Either I keep it or you use it in front of me. Your choice." A part of you wants to believe he's joking, but yet another thing about you and Joshua – no conversation topic was off limits, and there had been quite a few conversations that should've never left the sanctity of your sober minds.

Kinks, fetishes and favorite sex positions included. Did Joshua need to know you wanted to be folded like a pretzel? No! Did it matter when you were drunk off three mango margaritas two years ago at the cabana in that fuckass waterpark he manages? Also no!

So he's not kidding. Not in the slightest, and you can tell he knows he's won as you shrink back with a scowl.

"So, that's a no on the peep show?" He has the audacity to tease you as he slinks out of your bedroom, your vibrator bright in his hand as he presses buttons. "Ooh, this is nice~" "Joshua!" "Goodnight, Y/N!"

You bury your face in your hands, a groan from your lips as you contemplate your choices. 

And ultimately, make the wrong one as you follow Joshua back down the hall towards his bedroom.

"Hey, pretty girl."

"Fuck off, Jeonghan." You mutter under your breath, setting your backpack on the table in front of you. Joshua wasn't starting at the waterpark again for another week, but considering you were new and you were taking Jeonghan's spot for the first half of the summer – the three of you were now going to be stuck in the resource office to fill out paperwork for the day.

However, Joshua is out in the park helping the janitorial staff, entrusting you into Jeonghan's devilish hands.

"What happened to the swimsuit? You know we have to test your swimming skills, right?" You sighed, Jeonghan's eyes genuinely concerned as you pulled the hem of your shirt up. You wore an orange one-piece under it, your jeans a little too loose on your hips and held up by a shoestring. "Nice color, but wrong one. We'll give you an official one once we're done here…you're really struggling if you're using a shoelace as a belt, Y/N." Jeonghan snickers, earning a smack from you on his shoulder. He scowls, batting your hand away, "It's not my fault you're here! I'm not the person you pissed off!" "Oh, trust me. He's not pissed anymore." You roll your eyes, your cheeks hot as you shove your hair out of your face. Jeonghan pauses for a moment, the pen in his hand hovering over the first stack of papers in front of him as he stares at you. You avoided his gaze, nibbling on your lip as you watched the hands on the clock tick – before the click of his tongue rings out.

"About time." "It's not the first time, you know that." Jeonghan snorts, shaking his head as he folds his hands together. "When will the two of you admit that it's more? No one just takes care of student loans, rent, groceries…there has to be more." "Jeonghan, I don't want to do this right now. Joshua and I are just friends, and we've only hooked up out of sheer desperation. Trust me, I've tried to have feelings for the guy." You roll your eyes, scoffing out a laugh as Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

"You guys need to stop sleeping together, eventually someone is going to come along and you'll have to explain that weird ass dynamic." He clicks the pen, making you snicker as you lean closer.

"We didn't sleep together this time, not that it's any of your business." You lie as you grab a pen from the cup holder, and he only shakes his head again as your shoulder brushes his. "You're right, it's not. Now, focus. Can you hold your breath for more than two minutes?" The paperwork is easy as you scrawl your signature across pages without reading them. The banter is easy, and the way Jeonghan brings up your nip slip at Junhui's birthday party a year ago makes you shove him into the nearest pool when the two of you step outside. It's way too hot for early May, and you curse yourself as you try to cover your chest with your arms as Jeonghan crawls out of the pool like a demon from a sewer.

"You guys are done already? That paperwork took me hours with Soonyoung." Joshua walks over, his hands tucked into the bright red swim trunks that matched your suit. You roll your eyes, dipping your foot into the pool in front of you. "I didn't read, I just signed. You could be selling me to the Antichrist for a corn chip and I'd have no idea." You shrug, shivering at the cold feeling of the water. He only smiles, sidling up next to you as Jeonghan scowls up at you.

"I hate the both of you, I hope you know that." He mutters, shoving his wet hair out of his eyes and wiping the chlorinated water off his face. "I shouldn't even be here, I should be packing for Bali like I said I would be." "Oh, but we'll miss you so much when you're gone!" You feign a pout, making Joshua snicker as he crouches down next to Jeonghan and offers a hand. "It'll be fast, plus we've got other things to do today, too. We still have to stop by the market and get groceries." He dips his feet in the pool, leaning back on his hands as you bounce on your toes. "On a Monday?"  "The market happens to be the least busy on Monday evenings. Not that you would know, since you spend your Monday nights locked in your bedroom with a vibrator and surrounded by Smiski figurines." Joshua rolls his eyes as you scowl, nudging his thigh with your foot.

"When will you drop it? I said I was sorry!" "When you jump in the pool and give me two laps without coming up for air. Go." Unfortunately, your scowling does nothing as Joshua asks one of the other employees to bring a towel out for you. You lower yourself to sit on the edge of the pool, before getting shoved in by a wet hand on your back. It's freezing, and you let out a strangled scream as you come up for air. "Jeonghan!" "When a kid is drowning in the deep end, you don't have time to acclimate. Now, go! Two laps!"

You swallow the rage building in your throat, and file the idea of deep conditioning your hair to the back of your mind as you sink back under the water. For whatever reason, you don't mind the idea of the waterpark job. It's steady, and Joshua always comes home with bottles of sunscreen that free you from yet another minuscule expense. He would bring you to-go cups from the cabana of their Tiger's Blood snow cone, and the occasional cucumber under-eye patches from the spa that catered mostly to the tired mothers that visited the park.

But when you really thought about it – kids were really gross. Peeing in the pools, snotty, stained with multiple colors of syrups from the very same cabana snow cones you enjoyed when they didn't get paid for by your debit card.

The only two pros were the money, and working with all of your stupid, testosterone-fueled friends. At least you wouldn't be alone, and you'd be entertained.

You spend the rest of the afternoon at the waterpark being pushed into random pools and scenarios, and Joshua signs you up for the morning CPR course the next week. He tells you he'll give you a tour on your first day.

"What does Jeonghan even do besides shove people in pools all day?" You mutter as you walk back to Joshua's car, and Joshua snickers. "Whatever he wants. His job is in the Adults Only section of the park, and we have quite a few regulars. You'll love them, and that's the part of the park that makes the most in tips so just enjoy it." He shrugs, before clicking the doors open. You shuffle in, your hair still wet from the pool and you feel gross in your damp bathing suit. The water seeps through your jeans, making every movement uncomfortable as you shift in your seat.

"If I get a UTI, it's on you, Shua." "First of all, I washed my hands before we started messing around last night–" You reach over to smack his arm, earning a laugh as he slips his keys into the ignition. "I meant from the pool water!" "We have showers, Y/N." "Those showers are crawling with athlete's foot and pinworms and you know it."

He only laughs as you huff, and you cross your arms on your chest as he pulls out of the parking lot. His gaze is soft as he glances at you, holding his hand out for you to take.

"I know it's not ideal, but you can't just stay home all day, you know? It'll drive you mad." His voice is gentle, and you sigh as you mess with his fingers.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry about the light bill, really." "Y/N, I love you. I'm not always going to be around, though, and the light bill…you're gonna have to earn your way out of that one. I mean, a vibrator? Come on." "Sixteen settings! Remember how number seven felt!?" You squeeze his fingers, and he only snorts as he swats your hand away. "Shua!" "Yes, it felt great. Now, do you want dinner? I don't feel like cooking and Lord knows we'll be sick for days if you're in the kitchen." "You love me, Joshua Hong." "I do, now tell me what you want."

Maybe it should be weird.

Maybe it should be weird, that you and Joshua are so close despite the three sexual encounters you've had. Despite the fact that you stupidly made a virginity pact and went through with it, and the fact that he came to you after a breakup and things went left, and last night – sitting on his bed with your back against his chest and his cock sheathed inside you as muffled your whimpers with your shirt between your teeth.

And it's even weirder knowing that neither of you have ever wanted it to be romantic. Many conversations about it, even drunken ones – but nothing comes of it because the idea of romance with each other seemingly disgusts the two of you. You're fine with the three times you've hooked up, you're fine with the way he kisses you, you're fine with all of it.

And you know that Jeonghan is right – there will be a time when someone comes into your life and wonders if. If you've kissed Joshua, if you've slept with him, if you've ever had feelings for him.

But that's a problem for later you.

"YES MA'AM, THE CABANA IS OPEN."

It's only been three days. Three days and you're already appalled at the amount of parents that haul ass to get drunk off mango margaritas and spiked Bahama Mama snow cones at nine in the morning. You're also impressed at the amount of beautiful women that line the Adults Only section of the Olympic-sized pool, all sizes of tanning lotions laid out on the ground and floppy hats strewn about.

You find yourself constantly sipping on something – courtesy of the very sweet cabana boy named Chan – and flipping through a magazine from your seat under the large parasol. You look up every once in a while to take a ticket, or redirect someone – but the worst part is dealing with college frat boys who try to flirt and make comments about your swimsuit. You almost want to let them run around the pool – maybe they'll slip.

The job was easy – you walked around every hour, reapplied sunscreen, even snacking on something one of the lovely park mothers decided to slip you. Oreos, handfuls of pistachios, even heavily stacked sandwiches with crunchy chips slipped inside – and you'd had so many over the course of your first three days at the park.

You even dipped your feet in the hot springs at the end of the day before shoving your flip flops on and making the bike ride home – no use in bringing your car all that often, right? Waste of money and gas! Gas that Joshua pays for, but hey. Who are you to waste it?

The owner of the car.

"Jeonghan didn't tell me there was a pretty new girl." You don't bother glancing up, flipping the page of the magazine in your lap with one hand before speaking.

"Yeah, well. Jeonghan didn't tell me all the guys here are either sleazy, fathers, or both." You roll your eyes, stopping your finger over a photo of Zendaya at the Met Gala. "Welcome to Carat Bay, this is the Adults Only section. Any children brought with you must remain supervised outside of the sector. The Saunas and the Hot Springs must be reserved before usage. Is there anything I can help you with?" You absently fish through the coir basket in front of you, before grabbing a lanyard and holding it up. It gets taken out of your hand gently, fingertips brushing yours as you thumb another page of the magazine. "Y/N, you have to actually look at the customers when you greet them." You hear Joshua's voice in your ear, but don't look up as you skim through the outfits on the page. "Y/N." "Mmh, yeah. I hear ya." You nod, sighing as you flip the magazine closed and throw it onto the pile of towels next to you. Glancing up, you see a tall man sizing you up – his eyes a dark brown, lined with thick lashes and the strongest brows you'd seen since you broke up with Wonpil after three years.

Don't leave your girlfriend alone in her apartment right after you fuck, dipshit.

"Y/N." Joshua calls again, and you tear your eyes away to look at your roommate giving you a hard stare. His arms are crossed on his chest, "You said you'd try. This isn't trying." "I'm showing up, aren't I? And the MILFs–" "The mothers, Y/N." You roll your eyes, "The mothers love my nonchalance! They're just here to tan and get drunk, how is…sorry, what's your name?" You blink up at the man in front of you, and he only smiles softly as Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Seungcheol, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Seungcheol, and he's one of our regulars. He's the only one who really uses the hot springs, so they're already booked out for him." Joshua taps the tablet in front of you, and you narrow your eyes as his name slips off your tongue.

"Seungcheol? Like…Choi Seungcheol? Like…No. 95 on the soccer team at SNU, Choi Seungcheol?" It's slightly bitter in your mouth, and Joshua runs his hand over his face in frustration. Choi Seungcheol looks oddly impressed, maybe with a hint of smugness hidden behind his smile as Joshua speaks.

"Yes, Y/N. All that and also, Jeonghan's roommate. Now, does it matter?" "It does when he broke my roommate's heart freshman year." You cross your arms on your chest, and Choi Seungcheol gives Joshua a seemingly knowing look as he shrugs his shoulders.

"Could be anyone." "Whore."

Joshua gapes at you as you mutter and lean back in your chair, but Seungcheol only smiles, shaking his head. He tucks the lanyard in the pocket of his pink swim trunks before shrugging.

"They do say that your reputation precedes you." He runs his eyes over your shoulders lightly, before they flicker back to your face. You scowl, splaying your hands over your exposed skin as he tilts his head. "But I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about." "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did you just call me ugly?" You huff, and Joshua muffles a sigh with his palms over his face. You look over at him, "Your friend just called me ugly, Shua." Seungcheol smiles mischievously, before letting himself through the gate. He flicks the brim of your floppy hat, squealing softly as you reach your hand back to swat him away. Joshua peeks at the two of you through his fingers, and you frown as you see the hint of a smile start to show on his lips – before you feel Seungcheol's breath on the shell of your ear.

"Don't let what I do or don't think about you keep you up at night, pretty girl." "Joshua!"

You swat Seungcheol away, who only hums something reminiscent of La Vie En Rose as he practically skips away. Joshua is pursing his lips, trying to hold back his laughter when you throw the magazine you'd been flipping through in his direction. He catches it, before rolling it up and smacking your leg with it.

"Y/N, Seungcheol is a customer. Whether you like him or not, you have to treat him with basic decency. Remember what you're working towards here, and all sixteen of its settings." Joshua turns up his nose as he tucks the magazine under his arm and walks away. You scoff in disbelief, before turning back to see Seungcheol very much doing what whores do – flirting with one of the younger mothers, her leopard print bikini catching your eyes as he crouched next to her. 

She's blushing – or maybe it's the heat from the blazing summer sun.

"Ugh." You feel a sour taste fill your mouth as his eyes flicker to meet yours, your own rolling as he winks. Tonguing your cheek, you face forward once more, now burdened with actually having to do your job when you hear Joshua call out to you over his shoulder from a few feet away.

"And you're not even friends with Jaehee anymore!" "A friendship may fade, but girl code never wanes!"

"What do you mean, he's in our friend circle?" You're sitting in the park's office, eating your lunch when Joshua drops the stupendous bomb on you. You've got mayonnaise on your lip as you look up at him, who rolls his eyes as he swipes his thumb over it. You scowl, swatting his hand away before wiping a napkin on your face, swallowing the bite of your sandwich.

"Y/N, Cheol has been in our friend group since college. How do you not know this?" 

Mingyu – long-time friend, the group's stoner chef, and waterslide operator for the last three years – butts into your conversation, holding a cup of yoghurt in his hand as he sidles up next to you. You scoff, dipping one of your chips into the salsa Joshua brought from home, before shaking your head.

"I don't hang out with scum." "Because he was always at practice, Y/N. Not because he wasn't part of your life." You chew silently, pursing your lips as you shake your head again. "Because I don't need that sort of energy in my life. I have enough with Soonyoung whoring around, I don't need another one who also broke Jaehee's heart. I don't need another so-called 'friend' that has slept with all my girlfriends and thus left me in the hands of this stupid group of testosterone and Dude Wipe users that make fun of me when I have a nip slip." "Soonyoung slept with all six of them?" Mingyu gapes, and you snort as you shove the last bite of your sandwich into your cheek. Chewing carefully, you nod as he spoons peach yoghurt into his mouth. "Impressive."

"The point here, Y/N, is that Seungcheol is involved in your life. He's a regular, he's Jeonghan's roommate, and he's my friend, our friend. You've never been around him simply because of divine intervention. He's been in our apartment, he knows who you are–" "He knows about the nip slip at Junhui's birthday party that he missed because he stayed running drills on the field." Mingyu snorts, making you frown as you take another chip between your fingers. "I told him not to do it, you know. Now he's a fucking regular here to heal himself because he won't let the other masseuses at his job touch him."

Your ears perk, "What do you mean, heal himself?" "He frayed his hip labrum during practice in college, and he just kept playing. He got hurt during nationals and it was a pretty bad tear, and he had surgery. The heat of the water helps the pain he gets, which isn't all that often but it likes to act up during the summer because that's when he's the most active. He was super bummed about it, and didn't talk to anyone for literal months while he was in physical therapy." Joshua explains, and you feel your chest ache slightly. 

You do remember seeing something about his departure from the soccer team through the campus forums, with people sending flowers and gifts to the recovery center he had been at. People talked about it like it was nothing, but even with your disdain for Seungcheol – you listened. You knew he was one of the best players on the team, everyone in the sport-playing world at Seoul National knew that if anyone went pro: it was going to be him.

So you weren't surprised to hear that it hit him like a truck.

"That's…really sad, actually." You murmur, "But it doesn't change the fact that–" "Oh, give it a rest! Jaehee has long gotten over it, trust me." Joshua rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his Topo Chico. You narrow your eyes at him, watching the way a guilty blush coats his cheeks as he sets the bottle down. "What?" "What do you know about Jaehee, Shua?" "Nothing." "She's been off social media for years, and she only posts updates on her birthday and after she got her master's. So how, my good sir, do you know she's over it when she didn't date for the rest of college?" Joshua clears his throat, and Mingyu snickers next to you as you point a chip at your roommate. "Spill." "I saw her a few weeks ago. We just bumped into each other at the market, no big deal."

He tongues his cheek, his forefinger tracing the spout of his drink as you cross your arms on your chest. The door opens, revealing one Kwon Soonyoung in a hideous tiger-print Speedo and sunscreen swiped on his cheeks. You grimace, covering your eyes with one hand before you speak. "Joshua Hong." He scoffs, presumably rolling his eyes. "Can we not do this here? You know I'm a man of my word, I don't kiss and tell." 

"That means they hooked up." You hear Soonyoung's voice in your ear, and you jump, your elbow jabbing into his side. He scowls, swatting your hand away. "What? It's not like the two of you are exclusive." "Who isn't exclusive?"

You peek through your fingers, seeing the very same mop of shaggy brown hair now slicked back and dripping onto the break room floor. Pursing your lips, you ignore the way Joshua smiles inwardly before taking a sip of his drink, taking the initiative to say something as said mop of shaggy brown hair shakes and sprays onto Soonyoung – who squeals like he's never been wet a day in his life. "What are you doing here? This is for employees only, you need to leave." "Ooh, what's with the attitude? Clerical Barbie takes over as Lifeguard Barbie and suddenly she loses that customer service voice?"

Seungcheol's brows jump as he pops the cap off a bottle of Topo Chico, and you feel a surge of annoyance flood your stomach as Joshua shakes his head. "Knock it off, Cheol."

He shrugs, strolling around the counter against the counter where you and Mingyu are sitting. You feel your jaw tight as you lean back in your chair, watching him bump his hip to a smiling Mingyu's. You give Joshua a hard look, who only shakes his head as you speak loudly.

"You're not allowed in here, Choi." "Are you going to remove me from the premises? Is that part of your job description, roughing me up a little bit?" 

You glare at Seungcheol, who only winks. You manage to hear how Soonyoung bites back his laugh, opting to turn around and face the open fridge and crossing his arms on his chest. Seungcheol sips his drink, pouty lips slightly glistening before you look away.

Mingyu groans, "I don't want to hear this. You're fighting a losing battle over someone you're not friends with anymore, Y/N. You're friends with Soonyoung and he's a bigger slut than Cheol." "Mingyu has a point." Joshua agrees quietly, before an offended scoff fills the air as Mingyu slides out the break room door. "I am not a slut! Why are you slut shaming me?" Soonyoung slams the fridge shut, and you scoff.

"You also slept with Jaehee! Don't think I forgot, I'm still mad that you cleaned up with my shirt! My shirt, Soonyoung!" "She told me you'd be out! I wasn't going to stop mid-stroke because–"

You only raise your hand, cutting him off before you wave it. He tongues his cheek, silently turning his nose up at you as he slips out of the breakroom.  Joshua sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples as he speaks. 

"You have thirty minutes left of your break. Seungkwan is at your station until that's up, and then I need you to be present. Please." Joshua pleads, before reaching for the containers on the table and carefully packing them up. "I know you don't want to be here, but it's really not the end of the world. And…" You let your eyes flicker up to him, his own pointed and stern. "You are to treat everyone like a visitor. You're to be nice, to be helpful and this…" He gestures between you and Seungcheol. "This? This is stupid. You run in the same circles, you work here and he's a regular. Respectfully, Seungcheol is literally just a whore. I know you're loyal, I know you care…but Jaehee and Cheol are a thing of the past. They've moved on."

Your cheeks grow hot and you don't bother to say anything back, feeling the room fill with tension thicker than the caramel on the sundaes at the Cabana. Joshua gives you a soft look, a gentle smile on his lips before he turns and slides the containers into the fridge.

"Thirty minutes, Barbie."

You nod silently, picking at your nails as Joshua slips out the door. Seungcheol hums from two feet away, and you feel your jaw tight as he slides over a minuscule amount.

"I don't bite." "Have you ever heard the saying: if you run with dogs, you'll get fleas?" You slide off the chair, pushing your hair out of your face. He doesn't reply, only running his eyes over you as you walk towards him. You stop right behind him, your arm brushing the wet compression shirt on his back.

"It doesn't have to be about Jaehee. It doesn't have to be about any of the girls who would talk about you at my sorority parties and the games you would play. At the end of the day, the common denominator is you." He turns around, his nose nearly brushing yours from how close he is. You can smell the chlorine mixed with sunscreen and a hint of something sultry, something that would make you weak in the knees if it weren't for the odd animosity brewing in your belly.

"What are you trying to say? That I can't have fun?" You furrow your brow, "That you're a dog, Seungcheol. And all dogs…they bite."

His eyes flicker around your face, before leaning even closer to you. His lips almost brush yours, the glitter of your lipgloss nearly the only barrier between your lips and his. Something inside you makes you angrily attracted to the proximity, and you force yourself to keep your gaze frozen in place. "Trust me when I say this, yeah?" He nods, your eyes only narrowing. "I don't bite, but you'd love it if I did, sweetheart. The high horse isn't too good of a thing to ride, you know; there are better things."

You feel your chest hot as he moves back, the insinuation of him being the better option trying to force itself into your brain. A ring clinks against the bottle as his fingers circling the spout of his drink as he moves away. Scoffing, you roll your eyes, moving to walk away when you hear his voice in your ear. "Nice swimsuit, by the way." "Fuck off."

"YOU CAN'T BE FUCKING SERIOUS."

It's been two weeks since you started working at the waterpark. You pulled it out of Joshua that he did, in fact, sleep with Jaehee after graduation and that's how he knows she's fine. You don't particularly care, either, because you're still leeching onto it as your reason to hate Seungcheol – for lack of better reasons. 

As for the waterpark, things are incredibly easy; it's become even easier to sneak spiked Tiger's Blood snow cones and jalapeño margaritas from Cabana Boy Chan – he's cute and you had been determined to land a date with him by the end of the summer. 

Emphasis on had been.

You were all smiles and twirling your hair, making him laugh shyly and dig his chin into his chest. Winks, subtly flirty comments, anything and everything – and he couldn't help but let his cheeks flush something awful, his words stuttered out as you bit your lip and pushed your chest out. He couldn't hide any of his reactions, especially not the way his eyes followed the movement of your tongue when you licked the spiced rim of a jalapeño-mango margarita after hours.

All good things end, though – because Chan hasn't been able to look you in the eye for the past weekend. He kept his head down while making your drinks, apologizing quickly if he moved too fast and your drinks sloshed over the edge of the cups he served them in. Cheeks still red as ever, eyes still shy and roaming – but not a laugh, not a coherent conversation.

Why? Seungcheol.

He'd been making your days a living hell. From requesting a towel or sunscreen every time he saw you – meaning you'd have to trek the entire park to get them for him – to openly flirting with the mothers and students that hung around the park, he was a constant in your newfound day-to-day life. He never directly bothered you, he made it a point to only mildly inconvenience you – but it's much, much easier (and convenient) to say that he was ruining your life by merely existing in your perimeter. Joshua was starting to get sick of your complaining, but couldn’t really do anything because you were still doing your job, exactly as he’d asked.

However – you were not blind. At times like this, at these truly, incredibly trying times: you wished you were – just for Seungcheol. To have him become a blur of a being that crossed your path, maybe even mistaken for those floaters that your optometrist always talked about; would be a blessing in and of itself.

Because unfortunately for you, Lifeguard Barbie, Seungcheol is hot. He's stupidly hot, all broad shoulders and thick thighs and the longest lashes you'd ever seen. The brows and the lips and the arms, Christ, he's a walking wet dream and you hate it. You hate it like you've never hated anything before and for that very reason, you kept each and every forced interaction short and dull.

Until he noticed, and you know he noticed, that you flirted with Chan every chance you got. He saw the way Chan tried to hide his blushing cheeks, your teasing smile that dropped every time Seungcheol neared the Cabana; replaced with a pursed lip as Chan slipped away to take his order. He noticed the way you smiled softly at Chan (and everyone that wasn’t him) and he felt a weird pang in his chest every time – not that you knew about that, though. 

Nor did you have to.

After the realization settled in his mind, he kept you longer. Kept running his eyes over you just to see you bristle, kept talking about your swimsuit fitting you just right – even went as far as snapping the strap against your shoulder in passing, just to piss you off. He liked to rile you up, saying flirty things that made your cheeks hot and thoroughly enjoying the way you clenched your fists at your sides as you feigned interest in his needs as a customer at the park. It felt so stupid, and so derivative of the idiotic theory that boys are mean to girls when they like them – it's simply not true.

Despite not getting a word out of Chan unless it was a muttered apology for the weekend, you managed to ease your way back into his brain and ask him what the problem was just as he announced last call. He avoided your eyes, often looking over your shoulders and keeping his lips pursed until you jutted your lip out in a pout and made your way behind the bar. You kept your arms crossed, pressed tight against your chest as he tried to explain through stammered sentences before he just blurted it out.

"Listen, you're great, okay? You're so funny and smart but I can't…we can't do this, Y/N. You have a boyfriend, and I just got out of a relationship...it's not going to work." Chan had rubbed his hands over his face at that moment, your eyes widening at the wild accusation slipping from his mouth. "You…you're so hot, please don't think I didn't–" "Chan…I don't have a boyfriend. Joshua is my roommate." You tried, but his brow furrowed. "No…I'm not talking about Shua. You guys live together? Isn't that weird?" He tilted his head, making you facepalm as he scrambled to correct himself. "I mean, that's not…I'm talking about Seungcheol. He said you two were a thing. Aren't you?" You froze then, your shoulders tensing under the moonlight as you tried to process what he had said. You glanced up at him, your brows knitted in the middle as you asked him to repeat himself.

"What?" "Seungcheol, the Hot Springs regular. He said the two of you have been dating for a few months." You choked on your spit at that, before looking across the park and seeing said stupid, idiotic, sexy Hot Springs regular having a casual conversation with Mingyu. The moonlight bounces off the water, the park nearly empty aside from a few tipsy students enjoying the lazy river under Soonyoung's supervision. Seungcheol was nodding along to whatever Mingyu was saying, before he suddenly tensed and looked over his shoulder – locking eyes with you. And that led you here – telling Mingyu that Chan needed his help filling the Cabana stock and leaving you alone to grit your teeth at Seungcheol.

"Mmh, serious about what?" He plays stupid, eyes all wide and lips pouty and he is so fucking stupid. You scoffed, "You've seriously got some nerve to think I'd ever date you. The weight of the sheer audacity you carry around must be fucking with your brain, because you had no right to lie to Chan and tell him we're together." Seungcheol hums, taking a sip from the contraband beer bottle that wasn't allowed near the bodies of water. You reach down, snatching it from his hand and tossing it into one of the recycling bins haphazardly before putting your hands on your hips. His face is feigning boredom, but his eyes are teeming with mischief and excitement as you scowl.

"Go tell him that you lied!" "And have yet another competitor in the running for the fair maiden's hand? Oh, I'd rather die of listeria." He shrugs, and you crouch down with a look of disgust on your face. "You'll die by my fucking hands if you don't make this right. I don't even like you, much less do I need you meddling where you don't belong." "With your hands, huh? You'd just love to touch me, wouldn't you? Look at you, lean a little more and you'd be on your knees for me." He rolls his eyes, and you clench your fist at your side so as to not smack him upside the head. "Just relax, sweetheart. He's not all sunshine and rainbows, anyway. The kid just got his heart broken, it wouldn't end well." "I think I deserve to find that out on my own!" "And I think you need someone who can handle all this lip you like to dish out. Chan is just too sweet, you'd bulldoze him."

"What, like you could? Please, try stand-up in your next life, not this one." You roll your eyes, and he leans over the edge of the hot spring with yet another bored look on his face.

"Are you done whining? Because I'm trying to relax." "Relax when you're dead, I'm trying to score and you're blocking my shot! Chan is cute–" "So are you, even when you're doing all this talking." You scowl, opening your mouth to tell him off when he lifts himself against the edge of the hot spring. He's eye level with you now, and you try not to look down at the soft muscle of his chest bulging against his shirt as you scoot back.

"Chan is not what you need, Barbie. Sure, he's cute, he makes you your fun little drinks, he's a great guy. I know, I practically raised the kid." Seungcheol leans closer, and you make the mistake of letting your eyes dart to his arms. His fingers are wrapped around the edge of the hot spring, biceps flexed as he holds himself up to you. He doesn’t speak until you force your eyes back up to his, the scowl on your lip only growing deeper as he smirks.

“You made all your assumptions about me around my hookups in college. Whatever they said is law, isn't it? Let’s not forget that you know nothing else about me, and you treat me like you hate me because of someone who isn't even in your life anymore. You could be on fire and Jaehee wouldn’t cross the street to piss on you, sweetheart.”

"And what, you would?” You mutter, and he actually laughs. The bastard chuckles like something is funny and it only makes your skin prickle.

“If that’s what you’re into—” “Fuck all the way off, would you? You think you’re hot shit and everyone wants you, well I don’t. What I want—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, because Seungcheol catches your arm and yanks you into the hot spring in one swift move. You can feel rage bubbling in your throat as you swipe water off your face, seeing him resting his cheek on the heel of his palm.

“Slipped?” “I fucking hate you.” “Why?”

You don’t answer him, grimacing as you push your hair off your face. He swims closer, cornering you slightly. “Why, princess?”

“Don’t call me that. You’re a jerk, Seungcheol.”

“Am I a jerk because you hold onto battles that aren’t yours to fight or because I actually did something to hurt you? Because last I checked, we’ve spoken a total of zero times before you started working here, so it can’t possibly be the latter. Give me a good reason as to why you dislike me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t need to explain shit to you. You’re purposely ruining my chances with Chan because you’re a dick. You call me Lifeguard Barbie, you make comments about my swimsuit—”

“You call me a whore because I slept around in college. If you took the time to talk to me and get to know me, you could have actual ammo to shoot at me. But everything is girl code this, girl code that, right?”

He’s too close for your senses to process, your stomach fluttering as you instinctively push a hand into his clothed chest. 

“Back up.” His eyes glance down to your fingers splayed on his shirt, before flickering back up to your face.

"Name one thing you know about me besides the fact that I slept with Jaehee." "That you dumped her." "Wrong. She dumped me." You try not to react as you push your palm into the stone of a man. He doesn't budge, eyes searching your face before your fingers hover over his nipple with the intent to twist it – his fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you. You could start something you know you can't finish." His voice is significantly lower, before letting your hand drop to your side. It splashes in the water, and you feel pathetically small as he towers over you. "Not everyone is who they were in college. Just because you might've peaked there, doesn't mean all of us did."

You feel a pang in your chest, your throat tightening slightly as you peer up at him through your lashes. He tilts his head, eyes soft as he speaks. 

“You might not like me now, but you didn't give me a chance to begin with. Just let me know if you need someone to take care of you, hm?”

"You two better not start making out, Y/N is on the clock." Joshua's voice rings in your ears, and you feel your limbs fill with gratitude as you scowl. "As if."

Seungcheol lets you push him out of the way, not bothering to watch you pull yourself out of the hot spring as he strikes up a conversation with your roommate. "Are we still having a bonfire for Junhui this year? I managed to get his birthday weekend off, my coworkers are pissed." Joshua laughs that genuine laugh that you'd found comforting for so many years. You squeeze your hair out, fury still lingering in your throat with just a hint of hurt. Something felt weird in your chest, like the acknowledgement of you even existing in college and all the things that happened then makes your heart ache.

You'd agreed to host Junhui's birthday weekend at the cabin your grandfather left you in his will. He'd been there, still; when your parents made it a point to stretch the family ties so thin, even a gust of wind would tear through them and end them forever. You visited him often, going home with Joshua in tow with crates of fruit and cuts of meat he'd get up to grill on wobbly legs. He taught Joshua lots of things, but taught you the most valuable of all – your heart is to be guarded, but not to be solid.

To love and let love, lightly and deeply. To gather affection, to spread it, to be soft and understanding. To be complicit in the bettering of the world, and soften those who have become solid – while not understanding it to the point of solidifying yourself.

To listen, and give the benefit of the doubt.

You feel your heart sink as you walk past Joshua and Seungcheol without a word, not bothering to turn around when you hear Joshua calling after you – when you hear the announcement that the park was closing in five minutes. You beeline for your station, pulling a trash bag out from under your chair and silently moving around the park; picking up half-empty tanning lotions, mini sunscreen bottles, empty snow cone cups while you think about the fact that Junhui's birthday is in two weeks and you're going to have to house thirteen men once Jeonghan gets back.

Which (unfortunately) doesn't include girlfriends aside from Junhui and Minghao, because all your friends are bitchless. 

The night ends without you reporting back to Chan, your arms crossed on your chest as you walk into the parking lot silently. You see Joshua and Seungcheol still talking, both men leaned against the back of Joshua's car. Joshua is twirling his keys in his hand, a move you stop by taking them out and sliding into the driver's seat without a word. You rest your head against the seat, sighing before you hear Joshua's voice cut through the slightly rolled window.

"What did you say to her? She's never that quiet. I swear to God–" "Relax, I didn't say anything that didn't need to be said. She wants to believe that I'm the big bad wolf, when you and I both know Jaehee dumped me because she didn't want to be with someone on the soccer team after she dated Brian. Jaehee herself said it would look bad, I was crushed but of course, Y/N doesn't know that. And she doesn't need to know."

Your name sounds so foreign on his lips…but it sounds sweet. Like a cold drink after a long day…like he liked the taste of it on his tongue.

And you think about those words as Joshua makes you move to the passenger seat and drives the two of you home. You remain silent, staring out the window, eventually mumbling something about a shower and finding refuge under scalding hot water and minty shampoo. You find yourself in bed before the clock even hits eleven, your arm draped across your eyes – and you can't sleep.

Unfortunately, the flame of shame due to hating someone that you hardly know over someone you used to know is starting to lick up your back. Someone that has been vouched for over and over again by several people…and they can't all be wrong. 

"Merry Christmas." You look up from your pillow to see Joshua toss the same pink vibrator on your bed with a soft smile. He holds up a paper check in his hand, and you just shake your head as you pull your covers higher. You sigh, before feeling the bed dip and Joshua's aftershave fills your nose.

"What's eating you, hm?" "You know what." He scoots closer, his fingers swiping stray curls out of your face as he hums. "He's not a bad guy. I have never steered you wrong, have I?" "You've steered me into your bed a couple times." "The first time was in your bed." "Same difference." He snorts, holding himself up on his elbow as you chew on your cheek. You let out a breath, closing your eyes as you rub a hand over your face. He nudges you, a sigh slipping from your mouth.

"I know he's not a bad guy. Somewhere…deep down, I understand." "Then?" "He's still a guy who slept around, and with a lot of my friends. I've heard more about his stroke game than about him as a person." "So the objectification of Choi Seungcheol is going to be your demise?" Joshua jests, making you snort as you shake your head. "I…You remember my old man? When he would start a fire in the pit and we'd all sit around with beer and he'd make us split one because we weren't supposed to be drinking it anyway?" You smile fondly at the memory, glancing up at Joshua to see him doing the same thing.

"Yeah." "And you remember what he said to me? Every time you and I would get into a weird scuffle or something?" He nods again, "Your heart is to be guarded, but not to be solid. I still think about it sometimes." "I don't like Seungcheol. He's…arrogant." "He's not. He's confident, but even the mighty fall." You shake your head, "Maybe I was wrong to hate him from the start, but he's only proven I was right to do so. You know he told Chan that he and I are dating? I was so close to hitting that, Shua. So close!" "Chan just got out of a relationship, and you know how you are. You'd want more, and he wouldn't be able to give you that." Joshua laments, patting your shoulder as you pout.

You think about how you’ve never wanted more with Joshua for a split second, before an odd feeling of guilt settles in your lower belly. "Yeah, but it still would've been good." "I don't want to think about that, Y/N." He snorts, and  you let out a weak laugh as you shake your head again. "I don't want him at the cabin, Shua. I know he's…I know you guys are friends, and I know Junhui is flying in for this but I just…I can't shake the feeling that something might happen." He sits up, brow furrowed. "Something might happen? Like what?" You wince, gazing up at him meekly. "I throw a piece of lit firewood at him?" He bites back his smile, hovering over you. "You're not going to do that. You're too nice." "Are you saying I'm all bark? Because I'll have you know–" "Oh, I know you can bite, trust me." You don't like the glint in his eye, scowling as he snickers. "But you know better, and you'll behave yourself because Junhui is flying in to celebrate with us when he could very well stay home. This is important to all of us, and you're going to be a gracious host. Stuff him full of those jalapeño poppers you make and everything will be fine."

He pats your head, "And if anything, I'll be there. You know I've got you."

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline before pulling your duvet backup over your shoulders. "Get some rest, okay? Stop worrying about Seungcheol, any more thoughts about him and you might start liking him." "As if."

Joshua quirks a brow, "We both know he's exactly your type. All big arms and thick thighs and he can put you in your place." You scoff, sitting up on your elbows, the strap of your tank top falling down your shoulder. "He is not my type! My type is nice boys who blush when I flirt with them and Chan giggles, Shua! He giggles and now I can't fuck him because I refuse to be a man’s rebound!" You groan as you fall back on your pillows, only hearing Joshua laugh as he slides off your bed. He grabs your foot over the blanket, nearly cackling as you jerk it out of his hold.

"You'll live, Y/N. And remember," He grabs the pink vibrator from where it landed between your legs. "No more of this nonsense. Sixty. Dollars. Set them aside, take them out of the bank, but you're paying that bill." "Ooh, don't arrest me officer. I might like the cuffs." Your voice is full of sarcasm as you move to take it from him, his hand catching your wrist. You raise a brow, only for him to give you a pointed look. You roll your eyes, biting back a smirk as you speak. 

"Alright, alright! I'll just use your money, instead." "Like hell you will, I already pay your student loans." He snorts, letting you go and holding the toy out. You take it, shoving it under your pillow as you snicker. "And I am ever so grateful, my wonderful provider. You're such a man, rawr." "You're something else." He rolls his eyes, turning on his heel. “I have the weekend off to start prepping things for the party, so please be civil if you bump into Seungcheol.”

You sigh, bringing your duvet to your chin and turning on your side.

“Goodnight, Shua.” “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Joshua wasn’t lying — he was ‘out of office’ on Friday and Saturday. You had a closing shift on Sunday, so you managed to snag a few episodes of Gossip Girl with him before he made you write down everything that would be needed for the party. Not a peep from Seungcheol, just a grim nod that made you wonder if Joshua had said something to him – and you noticed he arrived only moments after you clocked in.

Almost like he knew your schedule.

“Do not drink, I’m not sure how late I’ll be and I don’t want you driving tipsy.” Joshua had been stern earlier that afternoon, holding your keys high above your head as you tied your coverup around your hips. He handed your keys over, hopping back into his car with a Costco-stock of beer and liquor before pulling out of the parking lot with a soft wave.

And now, you are here. Twenty minutes to closing, not a single interaction with Seungcheol tonight aside from checking him in. You had a bit of a scuffle with a group of friends from the local college, but you easily stood your ground and kicked them out of the park. Aside from that, you had no distractions and you were not flirting with Chan. It seems as though the universe made the decision for you, and all suggestive comments and blushy cheeks went out the window; replaced with Chan mentioning Junhui’s party after you asked if he would be busy that weekend.

“You know Junhui, too?” “You’re not serious, Y/N.”

As it turns out: Seungcheol is not the only person you were unaware of in your friend group, though he had a deeper connection through Jeonghan and Joshua. Chan was apparently a floater — sometimes too busy for the gathered group activities but still an integral and valued part of the friendship. You were just too in your own head half the time to notice, and the other half you spent shotgunning beers with Mingyu.

You told Chan about the plan to host at the cabin, and that you’d come by in a few days with the address and any final requests for food and drinks. You talked until he closed the Cabana, before bidding him a good night and strolling through the park with your hands behind your back. It was empty for five minutes before you reached the Hot Springs, seeing Seungcheol with a grimace on his face as he eased out of the water.

You stopped, feeling his name heavy on your tongue before you cleared your throat – but he beat you to it.

"You here to save me, princess?" “Here to tell you the park's closed, dipshit. Gotta go, Choi.”

He only smirks, leaning back on his hands. The moonlight shines on the pale skin of his thighs and arms, still dripping with water. You wonder how he doesn’t prune up — but it’s Choi Seungcheol. He probably made some deal with the devil to remain perfect forever.

“Five minutes.” You call over your shoulder as you continue your stroll through the section, peeking around every wall and even circling the lazy river twice in case there’s some odd couple making out under the Lover’s Bridge in the corner. You make your way back to the Hot Springs, seeing Seungcheol has disappeared.

A bit of disappointment fills your chest, but you continue on your way back to the entrance of the section and slip out, making your way to the office. You grab your bag, pulling a pair of shorts over your waist and ditching the coverup into the depths of your bag. You fumble with your keys, checking the logs to make sure everyone’s signed out before doing the same thing yourself.

You murmur soft goodbyes to the custodians that you pass while making your way towards the parking lot, swinging your keys around your finger as you slide out from behind the gate. There are only two other cars in the lot aside from yours — a white pick-up truck that’s way too lifted for a city car with two guys lounging in the bed, parked right in front of the water park. There is a sleek black car parked a few spots from your little Volkswagen, someone leaning against the passenger side and facing into the empty parking lot. You make it a point not to make eye contact with the pair who are smoking cigarettes on the truck. Your car is only a two or three minute walk, and you keep your eyes forward.

However, the sound of their lighters flickering isn’t enough to distract them as you make your way past their truck. A whistle is heard, and you see the person leaning against their car flinch slightly before a slurred voice rings out.

“Hey, pretty girl. Can I get your number?”

Your shoulders tense, but you don’t look back as you tighten your hand around your keys. Silence fills the air before you hear feet hit the ground. You feel your legs move slightly faster, before the person leaning against the black car turns around and locks eyes with you.

Seungcheol.

“I said hello.” “I have a boyfriend. Leave me alone.”

You’re lying. You’re lying like a fucking dog and you're sure he can tell by the tremble in your voice; but it doesn’t matter because Seungcheol’s eyes narrow slightly as he pushes off the side of the car. His hands are tucked inside the pocket of his sweatshirt, and he rounds the front of the car. He walks towards you, his jaw tight as he keeps his eyes trained on whichever of the men decided to trail behind you. You practically run to him, your hand instinctively gripping the front of his sweatshirt as his arm wraps around your shoulders.

You appreciate the way a feeling of security blankets over you, his fingers brushing your neck as he nestles his hand across the back of it. He pulls you close, the footsteps that had been behind you stopping. You hear his tongue click above you, before he speaks..

"Juwon? Cha Juwon?" Juwon makes a sound of confusion, "How do you know my name?" You glance up to see Seungcheol's eyebrows furrow, "Because I know your father. I also know you play soccer for Yonsei and you got a full scholarship to their engineering program. What the fuck do you think you're doing? Do you think the committee would be happy to know you're being a fucking creep?"

You peer at Juwon, his eyes wide as he takes a step back. "I don't want any problems–" "It's a little late for that, don't you think? You can kiss your scholarship goodbye. Stop being a fucking loser that makes girls uncomfortable and can't take no for an answer. Get the hell out of here and don't come back." Seungcheol barks, your fingers tightening on the material of his sweatshirt as the man's jaw drops. He quickly turns on his heel, sprinting back to the pick-up where his friend is staring open-mouthed. Juwon doesn't wait for the guy to get in the car, cranking the engine and speeding out of the parking lot as he manages to close the tailgate.

You watch in silence, before realizing how hot your face is. Clearing your throat, you awkwardly pat the spot on his sweatshirt that you'd been gripping and start to pull away.

"Are you okay?" He murmurs, his hand not moving from the back of your neck as he peers down at you. You shift, "Yeah. Fine, sorry." "You're not the one that should be sorry." He shakes his head. "Do you want me to tail you home? Just so I know you got in safe, because I know Shua's not home."

"How do you know that?" "He asked me to keep an eye out for you. I haven't left the park before you have until tonight."

He shrugs, and you feel a frown tug at your lips. "He's such a dad." "He cares. So…yes or no? Either way I'm gonna do it." He shrugs again, a small smile on his lips as you sigh. You nibble on your lip, before running a shaky hand over your face and nodding reluctantly. "Fine." "Or…I could just take you home. I'll have someone pick up your car, free of charge." There's a lilt to his voice, and you tongue your cheek. "We can drive around or something while you wait for Shua to get home. I'll feel better about it, and I'll know you're safe." "Why are you being nice to me? We're not friends." You mutter, looking at the ground. He hums, his shoe nudging the toe of your sandals making you look up. "I don't think you understand that you're the only one with a problem. I have no issue with you, much less do I focus on any of the negative things I've heard about you. So what if I was a slut in college? If you bothered to get to know me, you'd know I'm California Celibate." You snort, feeling the release of tension from your chest as you shake your head. "That's not a thing, and that doesn't make it any better." "It is so a thing! And there's no way it doesn't make it better, especially if that's your main issue with me." He tilts his head, eyeing your face gently. "I know you can't really be that mad that I slept with Jaehee. There has to be something deeper." "Like you ruining my chances with Chan?" "Like me bugging the shit out of you because you're cute when you're angry." You scowl, hating the way your stomach flutters as he smiles widely. "Come on. And then you can actually get to know me, instead of basing all your feelings about me on a failed relationship from college." He doesn't give you a chance to refute it, because some glint in his eye makes your face grow hot as you cross your arms on your chest. "That sounds a lot like a date." "If it were a date…you don't seem like you'd be too opposed." He chides over his shoulder, and you're foolishly following behind him. You frown, and he only shakes his head as he rounds the front of his car once more, opening the passenger side swiftly. Of course – of course Choi Seungcheol is a fucking gentleman.

"I am opposed." You grumble, before slipping into the seat. The car smells so nice – hints of patchouli and bergamot and the sweetness of pineapple. You reach to close the door, only to be stopped by Seungcheol's hand on the outside handle. He peers down at you, before crouching down to meet your eyes.

"I can change that." "I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, me, apparently." He smirks, before standing up right and closing the door gently. You run your fingers through your hair, closing your eyes as you lean your head back on the seat. He gets in the car quietly, shoving his keys into the ignition and turning the engine over before you open your eyes.

"Why'd you even start working at the park? Joshua always said you'd never work here." He asks softly as he makes a quick turn out of the parking lot, and you sigh. "You can't laugh if I tell you." "You can always lie, because I can't promise you I won't laugh." He jests, making you snort as you tiredly cross your legs at the knee. "I got let go from my job, the clerical one. He wasn't upset, Shua, but I was. And then we had somewhat of a fight because I forgot to pay the light bill in favor of buying myself a little something." You shrug, and he rolls to a stop at a red light. "A little something?" You give him a pointed look through tired eyes, "A big something. Hot pink, battery powered with sixteen settings that make you see stars and suddenly everything is okay in the world. Melatonin with a twist, I'd say." He bites his lip, his eyes crinkling at the corner as he looks away. You snicker to yourself, shaking your head as you look out the windshield. The sky is clear, the moonlight very bright through the dense trees that line the road leading back to the inner city. "What is California Celibate?" You ask suddenly, tilting your head to look at him as he tongues his cheek. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, before shrugging.

"It means I only do what I like." "Oh, so you're just annoying by choice. Got it." He chuckles softly as you roll your eyes. "Casual sex just isn't my thing; it wasn't even in college. It's just…the general foreplay. I like the build up, oral and whatnot. Kissing is fun, too." "Oh, you're such a whore." "Mmh, I like it when you talk dirty. But, I haven't slept with anyone since before I went to nationals and got hurt. I just…stopped, I didn't have the energy to do anything. Much less have sex that made me feel…used." You don't let him see the way your eyes widen. You make an exaggerated gagging sound as he snickers, his fingers flicking his turn signal.

The drive is quiet for a little while, the road winding as he takes you through the wooded area you'd grown up in. You don't mind it, the map on his dashboard GPS still showing your house as the destination no matter the turns you take.

"I'm sorry about your hip, by the way." You speak up, and he shrugs. "Thanks. It's just life, though. It took a lot for me to get over it, but I could either wallow in the resentment or get off my ass and do something with my life. I chose the latter." "Mmh. What are you doing now? What did you major in?" "I'm in grad school currently, and I'm working at a massage spa for the time being. I'm trying to open a business in the future, I think I'd do well in sports therapy and shit like that. I want to work with athletes who have the same situation as me. I don't want to get sappy but it's one of the harshest realities that can hit someone who thinks their life is set in stone, you know?" You feel your heart warm a bit, and you can't bite back your smile as you cover it with your hand. He glances at you, brow raised. "What?" "Nothing. That's nice." He brakes gently, pulling over before putting the car in park. "Tell me."

"It's just cute. To see you care, I guess. Having fuckboy tendencies and a big heart sounds kind of like it's out of a movie. It's not real." He tilts his head, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "Cute?" "Don't let it get to your head." You warn, running your hands up and down your arms. His eyes follow the movement, before he unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls his sweatshirt over his head. He holds it out to you, and you shake your head. "I'm fine." He silently presses the button to release your seatbelt, making you huff as you take the sweatshirt and tug it over your head. "It's gonna smell like chlorine." "Washing machines exist." "So does turning the heat on." "But you'd look so pretty in my clothes, sweetheart." You tongue your cheek as he winks, leaning back into his seat and buckling himself in. He moves to fiddle with the shift gear, before pausing and looking back at you.

"Would it make you more comfortable if I wasn't at Junhui's birthday celebration next weekend?" Your eyes widen, "Did Joshua say something to you?"  He shrugs, tonguing his cheek. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, especially in a place you've grown up in and have good memories in. I'd hate to sully that for you, if–" "Oh, I'm sorry." You interrupt, rubbing at your face haphazardly. "I'm just in my own head sometimes. I was telling Joshua that I was worried about it because I…" His eyes are soft as he searches your face. "Because you…what?" "I don't like being wrong." You mumble, picking at your nails. "I hate being wrong, actually. So much so that I've had arguments with Shua that last weeks so I don't have to apologize. And if you went, and I saw that everyone vouched for you the way Shua and Jeonghan do, I'd have to give you a chance. I'd have to admit that I jumped the gun, and it's just not something I'm good at. Especially not in front of Shua, because…well, he's Shua." He twists in his seat, "What if you apologize now? Just you and me." You roll your eyes, "What, and you won't tell anyone? I'm not five, Seungcheol." "Cheol." "What?" "Call me Cheol. Seungcheol feels too…formal. Choi Seungcheol, too. Don't like it."

"Anything else, Your Highness?" You scoff, and he smiles as he leans over the center console. "I mean, I'm partial to baby. Honey, even, if you're feeling nasty."

You roll your eyes, looking at him with a brow raised. He returns the look, shamelessly looking at your lips before tilting his head. "What's going on with you and Joshua?" "Nothing." Your answer comes out too fast, and it makes him smile. "Nothing? Or nothing you want to admit to?" "I have nothing to admit to. The guy is my roommate, he pays my bills and signs a fat check for my student loans because he loves me. That's my guy." You shrug, feigning nonchalance as he leans slightly closer, his cologne filling your nose slightly. Same patchouli…same bergamot and sweet, sweet pineapple. He doesn't look like he believes you, and you sigh. "Just ask. Go on." "You haven't slept with him?" "I have." "How many times?"

"I'll answer your question with another one. Why does it matter?" You lean into him, and he shrugs. "It doesn't. Just curious." "Mmh." You hum, your cheeks growing hot as his tongue swipes over his lips again, his eyes trained on the soft pout on yours. "Do you want to kiss me or something?" He smiles, "Depends on if you'd kiss me back." "No." He immediately feigns disgust, turning his nose up, "Ew, who would ever kiss you? That's so gross, and you smell like chlorine. I bet you don't even know how to kiss!"

You gape, a laugh bubbling from the back of your throat as you cover your mouth to muffle the sound. Your shoulders shake as you hold the laughter in, only to look over and see him smiling, almost fondly.

"But I could teach you."

"Like hell you will. Take me home." You manage to spit out, his face contorting into one of disappointment as he scoffs. "You could take me to dinner first, you know. I'm not just a good fuck–" "To my house! I'm sure Shua is home and I have to be up early for my shift." You huff, fanning at your face with your hands as he puts the car in drive with a grin. You wipe at your eyes as he pulls back onto the road, a soft blush on his cheeks as he follows the GPS to a T. It's silent, but it's comfortable – even as you make it to the apartment in twenty minutes to see Joshua still hasn't arrived.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning to face him.

"I'm sorry for making assumptions about you and being a jerk. It was unfair of me." You admit softly, and he only shakes his head. "It is what it is. You had your reasons." "They weren't very justifiable reasons, I think. Either way, I'm sorry." "Mmh. Do you want me to wait? I don't like the idea of you being here alone." "Nothing's going to happen to me, you know. I know how to defend myself, but I'll stay for the sake of your sanity." You roll your eyes, and he smiles softly. "I'm sure you do, princess. Thank you for being so considerate." You scoff, "I do! And for the record, I'm an excellent kisser. I don't need you to teach me shit."

The smirk on his lips makes your cheeks warm as he shakes his head.

"Mhm." The car is quiet, your head leaned against the seat before you turn to him. He's staring at the front door, almost as though he's expecting someone to walk through it.

"Is Jaehee the reason you started sleeping around in college? To mend your broken heart and whatnot?" He doesn't stiffen, or seem bothered as he turns to look at you. His eyes are conflicted, and he shrugs.

"I was sleeping around before Jaehee. All the newfound freedom being away from home paired with the fact that some sorority girls really, really like athletes…it got to my head. I got ahead of myself, and I wasn't really looking for a relationship. Jaehee was, but she realized it wasn't the best idea to keep dating within a certain circle. That was the end of it." You nod, clasping your hands in your lap. "I wonder what that's like." "What?" "Sleeping around. Does it make you feel…I don't know, icky? Used, like you said?" "It did. I mean, I was in the mindset of just needing that rush of recklessness, I guess. But the sweat dries, and you still feel like shit after." He nods, tonguing his cheek. "You…dated Wonpil, right? On the baseball team?"

You nod, a soft frown donned on your lips as you scrunch your nose at him. "For three years. Two in college and one after. We broke up for a multitude of reasons, but life goes on and you find other things to worry about, and I missed the freedom I had before we got together. I spent so much time just hanging around and going to movies, to concerts, I even worked at a fried chicken place with Soonyoung and gorged myself on biscuits. In a relationship…you have to answer to somebody and it takes a lot of your time." "Isn't that the best part of it all, though? Spending time with someone you know cares?" "I have friends who care, and I spend my time with them." "What about your family?" You stiffen slightly, your jaw tight as you clear your throat. "I uh…I don't talk to them. Haven't since after high school graduation." "I'm sorry."

You just shake your head, shrugging before turning in your seat. "It's just a sore subject, not your fault. I think…I'm gonna head inside now. I'm sure Shua will be home any minute and he'll start asking too many questions if he sees me get out of your car." He nods quickly, "Sure. Have a good night, I'll get your car here by morning." 

You smile, popping the door open slightly. You let it hang open, before leaning over the center console. "Thanks for helping me out back there, and for the ride…Cheol." He turns to face you, eyes widening a bit when he realizes how close you are but he doesn't back away. His smile is soft, glancing at your lips before he speaks. "Anytime."

"Goodnight." You mumble, pressing your lips to his cheek quickly before slipping out of the car and shutting the door. You don't look back, your cheeks hot as you fish your keys out of your bag with shaky hands and shove the house key into the lock.

The air in the apartment is cool – but it's not cool enough as you lock the door behind you and slide down it. You groan, gently banging the back of your head against the wooden door. You don't hear Seungcheol's car pull out of the lot, you're sure he's waiting for Joshua to arrive before he leaves.

You don't want to hear anything from the mouth of your roommate – so you push off the floor and beeline for your bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror – before putting your head in your hands.

"So stupid."

"ARE YOU JUST GOING TO KEEP IGNORING ME?"

It's been four days since Seungcheol dropped you off at home – and you feel weird.

You can't focus for shit and your heart races a mile a minute every time you see him wink at you and you can't breathe if he's in the break room. Why the fuck is he even in the break room? Who let him in? How do you get him out? How do you get him in your bed? Stop.

"Mhm." You hum, nodding your head as you flip through yet another magazine. The sector was unusually empty for a Thursday night; but you were on break, laying out on the edge of the pool. Your foot was dipped into the water, swirling around as you used the magazine to block out the rearing moonlight – and he was oddly floating by your side, his crossed arms on the edge of the pool and nearly touching your arm. "Tch, that's too bad, princess. I would've asked you to get a drink with me." You try not to smile, cracking your gum as you flip onto the next page of your magazine, "I wouldn't get a drink with you if you were the President."

"I would hope you don't like wrinkly old men, but I digress. Come on, at least look at me."

You put the magazine on your chest with a groan, crossing your arms over your eyes before speaking.

"Seungcheol, if you're going to keep bothering me, you're going to have to get out and go to another pool." "Or, you could get in." "Seungcheol." "Come on, just a dip. We can talk, get better acquainted." He whines, and you snort. You lift your arm up, your heart catapulting it's way to your ass as you scoff. "I'd get better acquainted with a rock." 

"Jeonghan has a rock he keeps in his room. Says it's his pet."

"Ugh, Seungcheol." You groan, splaying your arms out as he chuckles. "Sound so pretty when you say my name, princess. Let me hear it again." You scowl, sitting up on your elbows. "You're fucking insufferable." He feigns offense, a hand on his chest as he turns his nose up. "I'd never make you suffer at my hands, pretty. Pleasure pool only."

You gape, before rolling your magazine up and smacking his shoulder with it. "Leave me alone! I'm supposed to be on a break from my grueling job and you're over here drooling like a dog. Go away!" "But I'll miss you when I'm gone." He sounds so pitiful, you almost believe it until you see the hint of a smirk on his lips. You hit him with the magazine again, before scrambling to your feet and huffing. "Leave me alone!"

His laughter fills your ears as you walk away, a whistle making you throw the magazine at him. You don't really mean it. You don't, and you hate that in less than a month, he managed to get under your skin and implant himself in your brain. You don't like the fact that you so willingly got into his car on Sunday night, you don't like the fact that he made you laugh so hard in his passenger seat, and you don't like that you let your intrusive thoughts let you plant a fat one on his cheek before you ultimately ran from the problem (him) and into the sanctity of your apartment where a certain battery powered object awaited you and your running mind.

Joshua had been in and out of the park for the last few days, and hadn't gotten a chance to catch you alone despite his pointed looks. He was the one who signed at the door when your car was delivered by whatever mystery tow company Seungcheol had, and he even called your phone twice before finding you passed out in your bedroom with your phone on the nightstand. You managed to slip out of the apartment before he could ask any questions since Monday, and you could tell he was growing frustrated as you spotted him across the park.

"Y/N!" His voice rang through the park just as you turned on your heel, eager to return to the odd solace of Seungcheol's teasing. You grimace, running a hand over your face as you turn to see him walking your way with a look on his face that says what has gotten into you?

And you don't know, but you certainly know what you'd like to get into you.

Stop it.

"Hey, Shua. What's up?" Your voice is tight, but the way he crosses his arms makes it seem like you're in trouble. "What's up? Is that really what you're leading with?" You clear your throat, "What are you talking about?"

He rolls his eyes, leaning closer, "You like Seungcheol." You gasp, "How dare you! I would never like a scum-sucking harlot like Choi Seungcheol." "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Barbie." You hear Seungcheol's voice near you, scowling as he winks before making his way past you to the cabana. You scrunch your nose at the deliciously broad expanse of his shoulders, before looking up at Joshua – who looks skeptical.

"Right…anyway. Junhui and Jeonghan are flying in tonight, and I'm leaving early to pick them up." He starts, and you watch the way he looks over his shoulder at the cabana. "You can…get a ride home, right? I mean…don't think I don't know that you hitched one with Cheol on Sunday." You groan, running your hand over your face. "I had no choice." "Your car was running perfectly fine when you went to work on Monday." "Maybe I got it fixed and that's why it got delivered." "Maybe our Ring camera showed the two of you sitting in front of our apartment for twenty minutes before you kissed his cheek." The Ring camera.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling your face grow hot in embarrassment as Joshua chuckled above you. "You like him." "I do not! I was merely apologizing for being a jerk, okay? God forbid a girl apologizes to her…to…you know what I mean!" "I don't believe I do, sweetheart. But, I'll leave you to it, and I expect you guys to be safe." "I am not going to fuck Choi Seungcheol, Joshua." You grumble, but the confidence in your voice is questionable as Joshua envelopes you into a soft embrace. You begrudgingly wrap your arms around his waist, "Drive safe." "I will. I'm really sorry to leave you like this, but at least now I know he'll get you home safe." He murmurs in your ear, before planting a kiss on the side of your head. "I'll see you at home, okay? I'll be late, so don't wait up." "Bye, Shua." You pull yourself from his arms, before feeling his hand pat your back as he skirts around you. You sigh, not managing to catch the way Seungcheol's eyes had narrowed at the prolonged contact between you and your roommate. Not that he cared, he didn't.

You spend the rest of your shift avoiding Seungcheol more, scrunching your nose at his winks and smirks and stupid fucking shoulders that you wanted to sink your teeth into.

You want to say you don't know where the 180° came from, but you do. You know that the jokes in his car, the soft discussion of what he wants for the future and what he aspires to inspire…the understanding that he was human, too…all of it. All of it contributed to the weird buzzing in your limbs when you caught a whiff of his cologne as he passed by or the way your shoulders tensed when you heard the lilt of flirting in his voice as he snuck up on you. 

It's only worsened by how well he fills out his stupid clothes, the material of his shirts straining against those arms that make you want to pass out. Your skin prickles when you hear the intercom crackle, announcing the park has officially closed just as you start making rounds to see if there are any stragglers. Your pace is quick, your feet bare against the hot cement and rounding corners with a speed only God could rival.

…Until you slam right into Seungcheol's chest.

"Shit, sorry–" "What are you running from?" 

He winces, rubbing the heel of his palm against his chest where your shoulder hit. You have a sheepish look on your face, "Sorry, I'm doing rounds." "I can tell. Warn a guy." "Well if you had left like everyone else did–" "You wouldn't have a ride home. Let's not play this game, beautiful."

You tongue your cheek, crossing your arms when you feel his fingers under your chin.

"Are you really going to ignore me like this? I thought we were forming a connection. You wound me, babe." "I am not your babe."

You swat his hand away, only for him to catch your wrist and pull you close. "You could be." You let out a noise of frustration, "If you're going to stop me from doing my job, I can't go home. If you really care, you'll go wait in the car." He smiles, your stomach fluttering like an idiot as he runs his eyes over your face. He tilts his head, his voice soft as his fingers loosen around your wrist. "What if I want to walk with you?"

"Seungcheol." "A little louder, princess." You smack his chest, "Get out! Let me do my job!" He laughs as he squeezes your wrist gently before dropping it. "I'll be at the gate." "Fine, whatever." You cross your arms as you skirt around him, your chest tightening as you realize that come tomorrow afternoon – you'd be stuck in a cabin with him and all your friends. Him, and his shoulders and his lips that are so plump and kissable and his stupid thighs that look like they could crush a watermelon–

"Stop it, Y/N. Jesus Christ, it's like you're a Victorian man." You mutter to yourself as you round the Lazy River, your eyes darting all over it. "Stupid man and his stupid…hot body and his dumb face and I hate him." The grumbling doesn't stop as you make your way into the office, grateful that today was a day you stayed out of the pool (aside from your leg) and you duck into one of the bathrooms to change into a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, nearly tripping as you tug a pair of underwear over your ankles. Your eyes fall on Seungcheol's sweatshirt at the bottom of your bag, and you tongue your cheek before pulling it out and tugging it over your head.

You clock out accordingly, making sure to greet the custodians as you walk by them, shoving your hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt when you hear soft whistling at the gate. Your eyes flicker up to see Seungcheol leaning against the brick wall, swinging his keys around his finger and typing a text with one hand. He shoots it off, tucking his phone into his pocket when you open the gate. "Who was that?" You ask abruptly, locking the gate behind you as he raises a brow.

"Who was who, babe?" "On your phone, and I'm not your babe." You turn back to see him smiling, running his tongue over his teeth as he shakes his head.

"No one, sweetheart." "Right…no one." You roll your eyes, crossing your arms on your chest as you start walking into the empty parking lot. His car is a few feet away, and you quickly make your way over to it when you feel your phone start buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing Joshua's contact flashing across the screen. You answer it, putting it on speaker and static noise fills the air.

"Yo." "Hey. Did you get a ride with Cheol like I said?" Seungcheol tilts his head at you as you lean against the hood of his car. You roll your eyes, "Yeah. He's standing right here, looking like an idiot as usual." Joshua's laughter is heard through the static of the call, "Be nice to him, he's doing you a favor. I just got to the airport, this place is fucking packed. I'll call you when I'm on the way home, okay?" "Yeah, Shua. I'll see you." "See you, sweetheart. Be nice!" You hang up, shoving your phone back into your pocket and looking to see Seungcheol's jaw a bit tight. You raise a brow, but don't manage to speak as he opens the door. "Hop to, princess. I've got to deliver you home before this carriage turns into a pumpkin." "Do you also turn back into a rat or is that just my wishful thinking?" He snorts, "Get in the car."

You smile inwardly as you do so, his hand softly shutting the door behind you. You watch as he rounds the front of the car, before slipping into the driver's side and cranking the ignition. His fingers fiddle with the dashboard, before you hear the click of the doors locking and his seatbelt being clicked in. Your eyes close as you lean back onto the headrest, crossing your legs at the knee.

You expect him to pull off, but you open one eye to see him fishing his phone out of his pocket. He tongues his cheek, reading something on the screen before turning it off and tossing it into his backseat. "What's that about?" "You really are the jealous type, huh? Cute." 

He smiles cheekily, pulling out of the parking lot as you frown. 

"I am not jealous of anything. I am…merely concerned." "Aw, you care about me, princess?"

His pout is mocking you as you scowl, "I cannot believe I'm going to be locked in the middle of the woods with you for the weekend. Junhui better appreciate the ground I walk on for the rest of his life." Seungcheol smiles softly, "It is very kind of you to put up with so many people for a weekend. Especially when a handful of them saw that nip slip last year." "Oh my God, they will not let that go. So what, I have nipples. Shua has literally…" You trail off, seeing his brows slightly furrowed as he flicks on his turn signal. You clear your throat, "They're just boobs. They act like we're virgins from the 18th century." "Mhm." He nods, tapping the gear shift at a random rhythm. You follow his fingers, only to see his other hand white-knuckling the bottom of the steering wheel. "What made you room with Joshua, anyway?"

You shrug, "He's all I have left, I guess. My family and I…are complicated, and Joshua helped me through all that. All our friends are still waiting for us to get together but it's literally never going to happen. Just because we slept together–" "Right, right." He interrupts, and you raise a brow. "Anyway, there is nothing romantic there. Shua's great and all but we both admit that desperate times called for desperate measures." "Mhm." His lips are pressed into a tight line as he turns into the same road lined with dense trees. You tilt your head, before leaning forward in your seat.

"Are you alright? You're gripping the wheel awfully tight." "Ah, sorry. Sometimes I don't notice."

He clears his throat, loosening his grip on the wheel. You lean back cautiously, before closing your eyes. The car is silent, before you hear the click of his tongue.

"If you have something to say–" "Are you sure there isn't anything romantic between the two of you? I mean, I wouldn't room with a girl and take care of her like Shua takes care of you unless I had feelings for her."

You try not to let a frown fight its way onto your lips, remembering Jeonghan's voice in your head.

"You guys need to stop sleeping together, eventually someone is going to come along and you'll have to explain that weird ass dynamic."

"Yeah, you have a point." "So?"

You feel the car jerk to a halt, before you notice you're now pulling over into the same spot from Sunday night. The trees hide the car perfectly but you still get a stream of moonlight, and he puts the car in park to face you, unbuckling his seatbelt. You do the same, before you let your tongue dart out to wet your lips and a sigh slips out.

"Shua is the only person I have that has seen me go through it all. He met my grandparents, he helps me out more than anyone ever has. He helps me just turn my brain off and not worry about anything. I appreciate him as a roommate, and a friend. There is nothing romantic, and it's only been three times that we've slept together. I don't think we'll sleep together again, it's going to be too hard to explain if anyone were to come along and want to be with either of us romantically. 'Hey, my best friend that lives with me, pays my student loans and all my bills also fucked me on the couch you're sitting on. Isn't that funny?'"

He nods, tonguing his cheek. His fingers trace the grooves in the gear shift, PRNDL.

"Why did you kiss me on Sunday?" "Lapse in judgment. Don't make it sound like we made out, you literally said I'd be a bad kisser." "You said you weren't."

He leans on the center console, chin in his hand as he peers up at you through his lashes. You don't like the way your throat feels dry at the pleading look, possibly intentional…possibly not.

You force a scoff, "Because I'm not."

He tilts his head, "How do you expect me to believe that without proof?" "You want me to prove to you that I'm not a bad kisser." "Mhm." "And you want to do this right before we're going to be locked in a cabin together for a weekend with all our friends?" His smile is soft as he nods, "Who said they have to know?" "They will. They always know when someone in the group is getting some, that's how bitchless everyone is." "You're not getting anything, I just want to see if you're a bad kisser." "This is exactly how Jeonghan got Jeon Minseo to date him for three years, you know." "You just love talking about other guys." He rolls his eyes, and you scoff. "And you're putting the moves on me! You don't even like me! How are you not still a whore that I should be wary of?"

"You don't know if I like you or not." He says, "you don't know how to ask questions, only make assumptions based on dated misinformation." "Why would I ask you if you like me when I don't like you? Let's not forget, you cockblocked me! I could be getting the pipe of my life right now!" You scold him, and a small smirk pulls at his lips.

"I mean, I could break my celibacy–" "Don't piss me off." "Then shut me up."

You only realize how close he is when you look back at him, his eyes still wide and watery and stupid as you rub your face in contemplation. A huff escapes your lips as you click your tongue, before you turn and lean into his face. His eyes flicker to your lips, shifting in his seat.

"If you tell anyone–" "I won't. This is just for you and me, I promise." 

You and me.

His hand is warm as he cups your cheek, and you struggle not to roll your eyes at the way your skin prickles. His breath is minty against your lips, and you let your eyes meet. Your face feels hot as he smiles softly, his thumb brushing the skin of your cheek.

"We don't have to–" "I want to." "Yeah?" You don't respond, opting to close the gap between you and slotting your lips with his. It's soft, it's natural – how easily you fall into rhythm with him. His lips are soft, tongue skilled as he slips it into your mouth. You didn't realize how much you were leaning into him as you sucked on his tongue, a soft groan from his throat making your heart race in your chest. Your hands grip the edge of the center console as his hand tangles in your hair, holding you against him as he nips at your lips. You move back, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips before clearing your throat.

"Proof enough?" "I think I need more, actually. Insufficient data and whatnot–" "Oh, shut up."

You scoff inwardly, feeling your cheeks hot as you move to pull away further, but he only follows. "Just one more." "Seungcheol–" "Please."

You roll your eyes, letting him slot your lips to his once more. It's like he's addicted, the way he leans over the center console even further just to be closer to you. Your hands grip his shirt, keeping him close as you move back. He chases your lips, but you move your hand to cover his mouth as he furrows his brows.

"Joshua's going to wonder where I am–" "Ugh." He falls back into his seat, running a hand over his face. "I forgot about him. It's not like he's your keeper." You snort, before awkwardly shoving your hands back into the pocket of the sweatshirt. "He's not, but he does have access to our Ring camera. If I show up with your spit all over me–" "We can wipe you down." "Seungcheol…this is just not a good idea." "Why?" You nibble on your lip, crossing your legs at the knee. Your thighs are tense under your shorts, clamped together as you try and push any thought of arousal to the back of your mind. You can feel him looking at you, and you pick at your nails inside the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Just…take me home, please." He doesn't respond, only watching as you pull the seatbelt over your chest. The heat of his stare suddenly disappears, and you hear the click of his own seatbelt as he clears his throat. He doesn't say anything, even as you peer at him out of the corner of your eye, his hands fiddling with the shift gear before you feel the car steer back onto the road.

For a moment, there is nothing to say – but you feel small. You feel like you've done exactly what you'd been telling yourself you wouldn't, falling for charms that shouldn't have worked on you the way they did on all the other girls. You think about the way your sorority sisters fawned over him – his body, the way they bragged about being folded like a damn lawn chair at his leisure, the way his tongue made them lose their minds and almost always crawl back for more.

Sure, he's…honest. He told you he didn't like casual sex, he told you he didn't like the way it felt after.

But you know that only means he pushed the feeling aside time and time again, because he still did it. You knew more about how well he ate pussy than anything else, and you felt odd as your heart sank in your chest. You don't know of a single girl that he ever intended to be serious with – so what makes you any different? And why do you give a flying fuck about being different to him – you don't even like him.

Of course you don't like him. He's arrogant and annoying and…profound. And gentle, and smart and funny and flirty and so fucking stupid. He's so stupid, Choi Seungcheol.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" "I don't want problems this weekend, Seungcheol." "You won't have any. Don't worry about it." His voice is slightly tight, but you turn to look at him. He looks fine to the naked eye, his jaw relaxed, shoulders set back as he flicks on his turn signal. You nod slowly, feeling the car roll to a halt for a stoplight. He glances up at the red light, before his eyes flicker to yours. He raises a brow, and you just shake your head. "Sorry." "Nothing to be sorry for, Y/N." You don't like the way your name rolls off his tongue, it's nothing like the first time you heard him say it. He says it like there is nothing else to be said, your name being the stamp that ends the teasing, the trolling…and his brand of flirting. You shift in your seat, before seeing the gate of your apartment complex come into view. "You can stop here, I'll just walk the rest of the way." You murmur, and he tongues his cheek. He waits for the gate to open, the two of you peering over to see Joshua's car parked in front of your apartment. He's home, and you hear the familiar sound of thunder rolling overhead.

Seungcheol stops the car, the air thick like he has something to say. He doesn't, his finger unlocking the door and you mutter a thanks as you push it open. You set your foot out, but feel rooted in your seat. Your hand is tight around the handle of the door before you put your leg back into the car and close the door. Seungcheol makes a sound of concern, leaning forward slightly in his seat. His finger taps the center console, and you glance up at him.

"Cheol?" "Yes?" "Do you like me?" The words taste like metal in your mouth, but you chalk it up to chewing on your cheek too hard. He's silent, his fingers tracing the stitching of his center console before sighing.

"It's hard not to." He starts, and you feel your brows furrow on your face as you turn to face him fully. "You based yourself on what you heard about me, but if I had done the same thing…I think I still would've liked you a bit." "What?" "Joshua talks about you a lot. So does Jeonghan, Soonyoung…Mingyu, even. Just because I didn't get a chance to befriend you the same way they did because I was stuck in my own world…doesn't mean I don't know things about you. I know a lot about you, down to the fact that you learned how to swim in a lake after your sister threw you in. I know you don't like it when your food touches, I know you like to lie and say you're an inch taller than you actually are." "What's one inch?" You grumble, before shaking your head. "You're avoiding the question." "No, I'm answering and simultaneously telling you why you should give me a chance." "You lied to Chan–" "And you lied to Joshua when you said you said you'd never like a, what was it? A scum-sucking harlot like me? You're no better." "I don't like you, Seungcheol." You grit, "And I didn't lie. I said the truth, I could never–" "You're wearing my sweatshirt. You stare at me like you've never seen a man before in your life, don't think I don't notice the way you literally follow me with your eyes. Not to mention, we just kissed, not even ten minutes ago. You want to act like I'm not even worth the time, like I'm not worth your time but you act so differently when it's just me and you. You tell Joshua one thing, but you bite back your smiles when you talk to me. I was honest with you about my past, and what I want for my future. It's not enough for you to even try to change your mind and I can respect that, and I think whatever game you're playing needs to end now because I'm not strong enough for this seesaw. So, I'm getting off. How's that for never?" 

His jaw is tight now, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he closes his eyes. "I'm not coming this weekend, so tell Junhui I'm sorry. Please, go inside. It looks like rain."

You don't know why your nose burns as your jaw clenches, your hand gripping the strap of your bag so tight anyone would think you'd seen it run away before. A drop of water hits his windshield as you run your tongue over your teeth, a tear falling onto the light grey fabric of his sweatshirt before you haphazardly tug it off. You throw it into his backseat before pushing his door open, slamming it behind you as you get out and make your way to your apartment door. 

He doesn't pull away even as you get inside, and you feel your chest tight as you throw your keys into the bowl on the foyer table. Joshua's voice can be heard stopping abruptly in the kitchen as you toe your shoes off quickly, and you see the flash of a blond head as you hide your face and practically sprint to your room as tears flow down your cheeks.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You don't respond as Joshua calls after you, slamming your way into your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THE SINKING FEELING IN YOUR CHEST AS YOU SAT IN FRONT OF JEONGHAN'S APARTMENT – AWAITING HIS ARRIVAL INTO THE RENTED VAN THAT WOULD PAVE THE WAY TO THE CABIN.

"Hey, honey." His voice is soft as he leans in the passenger window, and you hum in response. You don't look up from the book in your hand, even when you feel his cool fingertips thumb at your earlobe. "You don't look very happy." "I'm fine, Jeonghan." You spent a few hours sobbing silently into your pillow the night before, before Joshua and Junhui took your doorknob off to get in. You didn't tell them anything, only apologizing to Junhui for being a mess on his birthday weekend – and you almost threw up as you let Seungcheol's notice slip past your lips. Joshua's eyes had narrowed then, and he'd disappeared from your bedroom as Junhui hugged you tightly with whispered assurances that you were going to be okay.

Junhui wound up falling asleep on your bed next to you, your face swollen when you woke up the moment the morning sun started peeking in through your blinds. Joshua had taken it upon himself to pack your bag, leaving the green duffel at the edge of your bed in case you wanted to put anything else in it.

You spent an hour dunking your face in ice water to minimize the swelling, but it wasn't going down. Joshua only smoothed your hair and told you to get in the car after brushing your teeth. You told yourself that you'd be fine, that everything would be fine ��� until you saw Seungcheol's name flash across Joshua's phone screen the moment you got in the van and felt a sinking pit in your stomach.

Yearning is a bitch.

"Well…you might wanna go pee or stock up on something. You know the drive is very long, and I don't think Shua's gonna want to stop anywhere." He says softly, and you look up to see a very gentle look in his eyes. Almost like he knew something, and you had no doubt that he did as he opened the door and carefully unbuckled your seatbelt. "Come on." You obliged, quietly dog-earing your page and slipping out of the car. You cross your arms on your chest as you follow Jeonghan up to his apartment, not seeing Seungcheol's car anywhere nearby and feeling a bit of a weight off your shoulders. Jeonghan opens the door for you, following closely behind as you wander into the kitchen. Joshua and Junhui are packing things in coolers – sliced fruit, sandwiches…

And Seungcheol is quietly cutting things up for them in the corner, his hands covered in fruit juices and the kitchen covered in bottles of orange juice that seemed to be freshly squeezed. You can't see his face, covered by the shaggy mop of hair you'd gotten used to seeing dripping wet. Mingyu is hovering above the sink, furiously washing dishes as you slip past him – hearing him ask about Junhui's girlfriend and why she's not here.

You don't manage to hear the answer as you sidle up to Joshua, your hand gripping the back of his shirt as he peers down at you.

"How are you feeling, honey?" "Fine. Don't call me honey."

"Noted. How are you feeling, hoe?" You snort, pinching his side as you peer into the cooler. Grapes, sliced oranges, a few yoghurt parfaits you know aren't going to make it past the hour – not if Mingyu was anywhere near the coolers. You feel something cold against your cheek, and flinch to see Jeonghan holding a cold spoon to your face. You take it, silently patting it around your eyes as Joshua bumps his hip to yours.

"You're in my way, sweetheart." "Joshua." "I've called you these things for years, what's the deal? Scoot." You roll your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him before skirting back out of the kitchen. You hadn't been to Jeonghan's apartment all that often, only twice to sleep off one too many tequila shots and you were gone by morning. You wandered a bit before making your way down the hall. A few doors are left open, and you spot the bathroom when you stop. The other door left open is a bedroom, and you look over your shoulder before tucking the spoon in the back pocket of your shorts and peeking inside.

A large bed is in the middle, dressed in black bedsheets with a forest green comforter. There's a throw blanket bunched at the foot of the bed, and the smell of the room is familiar…patchouli, bergamot…sweet, sweet pineapple. Seungcheol's bedroom. You glance over your shoulder again as a laugh erupts from one of your friends, before you slip into the bedroom. You keep your hands tucked behind your back as you look around – framed photos of him, Jeonghan and Joshua, of the soccer team at SNU, of his family. A small white dog with a cherry clip in the fur has a small shrine all to herself on his dresser, Polaroids of her tucked into the mirror labeled Kkuma with dates. The walls are lined with awards, his degree placard, and a framed piece of newspaper from the SNU Hawk Review Committee. Star Soccer Captain Choi Seungcheol takes SNU to Nationals!

You feel your heart sink a bit, seeing his smiling face printed in the corner. There was yet another Polaroid stuck into the frame – him, holding the silver semi-finals trophy of the same year. Your fingers tremble as you take it into your hand, wiping the caked dust off the photo. You place it back, wiping your fingers on your shorts before sniffling inwardly.

You glance up to see everything else scattered across his desk – textbooks, open notebooks with scrawled notes and his laptop open to an anatomical sketch of the human hip. You read a few of the notes, not understanding anything on the page when your eyes flicker up to see a piece of paper sticking out from one of the folders on his desk. You carefully pull it out, feeling your nose burn as you read the familiar SNU headline.

Ex-soccer captain Choi Seungcheol loses scholarship due to injury.

You remember this article. It had been printed without authorization from the committee, and you remember the editor lost her mind. All copies were to be returned to the yearbook office by that afternoon, but it seems he managed to keep one. You run your finger down the photo of him in the corner, a black-and-white version of the Media Day photos that everyone looked forward to from the Athletics Department.

"You really shouldn't look through people's things. It's rude." You feel your skin prickle at his voice, but you don't bother looking up as you carefully slide the article back into the folder it came out of. You clasp your hands behind your back once more, your eyes scanning over the medals that lined the wall. Most Valuable Player, Best Forward, Best Leadership…

Most Likely To Go Pro. 

"Y/N." "I don't like it when you say my name like that." You don't look away from the wall, your eyes glued to the picture of his graduation. His mother is holding his cheeks tightly, his face pink from the summer heat and holding a large bouquet of flowers in the crook of his elbow. You reach for it, tracing her face with your fingertip.

"Your mom?" "Yes." "She's beautiful." "Thank you." He's closer now, his hand taking the photo from yours and placing it back on his desk. Your eyes move to his face, his eyes slightly swollen as he clears his throat. You feel your stomach knot up, your lips parting as he stares at the photo.

"They're waiting for you." "Come with us. There's room in the van, I'm sorry–" "I'll meet you there, don't worry about it."

I'll meet you there.

He tongues his cheek, and you feel your face grow hot as he peers down at you by the slope of his nose. He tilts his head, "Junhui and Jeonghan asked me. I'm not going to give you any problems, so don't–" "I'm sorry." You interrupt, "please, don't act like this. I don't like it." "You don't like me, so what does it matter?" His voice is soft, and you try not to react as the sting of tears fills your eyes. A honk makes you jump, his laugh tired and hollow. "Go on, Y/N. They're waiting for you." You blink up at him, "Cheol–" "Just call me Seungcheol. They're waiting, and you'll be late. Go, hurry." 

You ignore the pang in your chest as you listen to him, not feeling the heat of his gaze as you slip out of his bedroom.

Seungcheol feels like a fish out of water.

His car is silent, the grey sweatshirt you ripped off last night still thrown in his backseat. His duffel sits in the passenger seat, where the scent of your perfume mixed with sunscreen lingers. He feels his chest heavy as he maneuvers his way through the paved roads of the woodlands, the sun setting in the distance.

He can still feel your lips on his. He spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, feeling his chest ache every time he thought about the sweet taste of the cabana mocktails on your tongue. He ran his fingers over his lips constantly, the smell of your shampoo on his fingertips. He held the tears in as long as he could, but even the mighty fall – and he cried silently, trying to hold his sobs in so as to not wake up Jeonghan in the next room.

He remembers the first time he met you – a time you probably don't remember. It was in passing, though, and you hardly managed to speak to him so he didn't expect you to – at a party. It was Jeonghan's birthday, and it was being hosted at his fraternity's sister sorority house. All of your friends were there, and you greeted everyone eagerly while taking presents and hiding them in your bedroom. You were wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a red halter top, your hair flowing loosely as you bounced around like a spider on crack. 

It was just after Jaehee dumped him. He attended at the incessant begging of Jeonghan, who wanted him to get out of his slump; and wound up being introduced to you by Joshua before you sheepishly apologized and ran over to tend the drink station. He remembers the way your eyes were sparkly with excitement, your smile wide and lips glossed to high heaven. He wasn't even sure you registered his name, but he certainly knew you thought he was cute. You peered at him over the top of red solo cups, even pointing every time you thought he wasn't looking to ask about him to whoever was around you.

Seungcheol remembers the way your earrings swung as you danced, the way you sang the loudest for Jeonghan when you wheeled the cake in…the way you snuck off with Joshua in tow and a joint in your hand. And he remembers how sweetly you bid him goodnight when you found out he was leaving around midnight, even walking him to his car barefoot. You smelled of tequila and sweet almond oil, and he remembers filing you away to the back of his mind, purposely never to be thought of again lest he lose his mind. Everything he knew about you was from your friends. He made it a point not to bump into you, not to run in the circle all that often because he truly believed that crushes cannot be healthy in a friend group. He saw the way you narrowed your eyes if you saw him when you would attend soccer games to support Wonwoo and Junhui, the way you scoffed if you saw him after Jaehee must've told you something.

He saw how guarded you became, even if you didn't know him. He wasn't sure you knew who he was before Jaehee – but you also seemingly didn't care to hang out with him. You were always busy doing something else when he would hang out with the group – your mutual friends rolling their eyes when you'd call to bail because Wonpil wanted to hang out, or because you wanted to spend the night in (read: sleep with Wonpil), or because you simply didn't feel like hanging out.

It was truly, truly divine intervention that the two of you never saw each other – and he thought he'd escaped the idea of ever even being in the same room with you. He thought he'd tricked life, until he walked into the waterpark and saw you sitting at the gate in that bright red swimsuit – and all his memories of that first night came rushing back. He didn't consider anything but dishing back exactly what you served; the idea of sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs and covering the expanse of your neck with his lips only flooding in when he walked into the break room and saw you arguing with Soonyoung. You were so standoffish and mean and he didn't understand why he liked it. For years, girls fell to their knees without him even saying anything. Girls threw themselves at him left and right simply because he was on the soccer team, or because he was cute, or because they'd heard about him through the grapevine. But you? Claiming girl code, actively trying to make it a point not to be too available for him even as an employee at your job – he loved it. He loved how you scowled inwardly every time you walked past him, only to smile quickly at any passing mother or coworker. He loved watching the soft swing of your hips as you did rounds at closing, your soft humming to the loud cabana music incredibly cute.

He liked seeing you squirm, too. Calling you Barbie, calling you princess and seeing the way your brow would furrow and your nose would scrunch before you told him off…he lived for it. He felt a bit of pride in his chest when he saw you checking him out, even more so when you did it the night he pulled you into the hot spring. 

And he remembers the odd, rolling boil of jealousy in his stomach when he found out the dynamics between you and Chan; and it only got worse when he came across the knowledge that you and Joshua had slept together. He felt his throat tight as you spoke about it, your voice shy and he felt the ugly head of comparison trying to rear its ugly head in; and he felt stupid to feel so jealous, because you weren't his and you were pulling every move in the book to make it known that you would never be. He remembers the fury he felt in his chest when your eyes were full of fear that same night, the way your fingers gripped his sweatshirt as he told off that stupid guy in the parking lot, and he hated it. He tried not to think about what could've happened if he hadn't stayed the way Joshua asked him to.

He hates the way the title boyfriend referred to him temporarily, and falsely. He wants it, the real one; to be awarded the title of your boyfriend and never have to let it go, only upgrade. He wants to make you laugh and brush your hair for you and hold you against his chest during thunderstorms. He wants to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and pay your student loans and Seungcheol wants to make you proud. 

He thinks about how he hasn't dated or slept with anyone in years, calmly rejecting women and carefully avoiding situationships. He thinks about how he aimlessly flirted with the mothers at the park with zero intention of doing anything, just to feel the heat of your jealousy-fueled glare on his back. He thinks about how for the first time in ages, he wants to. He wants to date you – he wants to take you out to dinner and take walks on the beach and fill his room with framed photos of the two of you and take you home to meet his parents. He wants to embarrass you in front of them by kissing you like a mad man and he wants to serve your plate at family dinners and he wants to fill your cup every time it starts running low. He, admittedly, wants to sleep with you – he wants to make love to you, to feel you fall apart for him, to hear you moan and whine and make you cry on his tongue. He wants your shampoo to permeate his bedsheets, he wants the room to smell like you forever and he wants to run his hands over your hips and thighs and just kiss you until you can't breathe.

He wants you to kiss him, to touch him, to ruin him until he can't think of anything but you and all that falls from his lips is your name.

He can't shake the feeling of your lips. Soft and slick, the taste of you lingering in the back of his throat driving him absolutely insane. He pulls over twice on the way to the cabin to get himself together, breathing through his mouth just to see if the taste is still there despite his toothpaste and mouthwash. He palms at his shirt, hoping his hand feels anything like yours, hoping if he thinks about it long enough; you'll reappear. You'll reappear and he'll hear the choked laughter you bite back, he'll smell the chlorine and sunscreen and citrus…he'll feel the warmth of your tongue sliding into his mouth with your fingers bunching up his shirt and it'll settle his heart that feels like it's about to fall out of his chest. You'll reappear and he won't have to think about anything but you, granting him the once-in-a-lifetime chance to kiss you and have you to himself – even if it's just for the moment.

He's dipped his toe in the stormy whirlpool that is falling for you, and he's not so sure he wouldn't like to drown in it. In everything about you, the way you smell and how you fight your feelings back with a bat riddled in rusty nails and how you love. He sees it, your love in all your friends – your excited eyes when you would talk with Joshua about Junhui flying in for his birthday, your laughter ringing through the air when Mingyu chases after you after you steal his drinks at the cabana, your soft suggestions that Soonyoung stop wearing that fucking tiger-print Speedo. Only to turn around and look at him with wide eyes that narrowed just as fast, plump lips that pressed into a thin line with curt nods – that turned into bitten smiles, a soft glint in the back of your eyes and he wants you so fucking bad. He feels pathetic to want you so bad, it's only been a month. A month.

Fools love rushing in, though.

"Stupid. Get a grip." He mutters to himself, his GPS telling him to take a left turn. He does it, seeing the rented van come into view, the cabin towering three stories in the middle of the tall trees. The lights are on, but he can hear laughing and smell the smoke of a fire as he pulls in next to the van. He turns the car off, before hearing someone start screaming about being thrown in the lake. A splash is heard as he opens the door, momentarily pausing before reaching behind the seat and grabbing his sweatshirt. He tugs it over his head, grabbing the strap of his bag before climbing out and slamming the door shut.

He's quiet as he walks towards the door, hearing rustling inside as he treks the steps. He knocks on the door, hearing a soft laugh as someone makes their way to the door. As it opens, he hides his subtle disappointment when he sees Minghao's girlfriend smiling brightly.

"Cheol! Come in, come in. Everyone's out back, I'm just getting some more beers with Hao. Uh, Shua said your room is on the second floor to the left, baby blue door." She gives him a one-armed hug, and he greets her quietly. Minghao calls his greeting from the kitchen, his girlfriend quickly skirting back as Seungcheol makes his way to the stairs. He toes his shoes off, quietly making his way up the steps and looking around before seeing a baby blue door with his name taped on it. The surrounding doors have Minghao, Joshua, Jeonghan…Y/N.

He steps inside, immediately hit with a wave of the citrusy perfume you wear. He sees the entire room covered in memorabilia – you and Joshua, you and your sorority sisters, you and…your grandparents. He sees a singular photo of you, a girl who has a striking resemblance to you and two adults. It's caked in dust and shoved in the back of all the photos, and he sets his bag down on the dresser before tucking his hands in his pockets and looking around. There is a hand-drawn map, easily having been done by a child, of the woods surrounding the cabin. 

"Hey, you made it."

He turns, seeing Joshua standing in the doorway. He nods curtly, before Joshua takes a step into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. "What's going on with you?" "Hm? Nothing, I just needed some time alone." Seungcheol shrugs, and it's not entirely a lie. Joshua sighs, setting his beer down next to Seungcheol's duffle on the dresser. He takes a seat on the foot of the bed, crossing his ankles as he leans back on his arms.

"I know you have feelings for Y/N. It's okay, Cheol." He scoffs, not bothering to face the younger man as he looks at the soft trinkets lining the shelves on the wall. Small angel figurines, religious elements that he's not too sure you subscribe to, a white maneki-neko…a picture of you at graduation, alone. Your smile was too forced, your eyes brimmed with tears and your hands holding your degree so tight, your fingertips looked pained. Tucked in the frame was a Polaroid of you and Joshua sitting in front of a cake that said Congratulations, Graduates!

"Y/N and I aren't romantic." Joshua speaks up, and Seungcheol feels his back tense as he shrugs again. "Don't shrug me off, I know it bothers you. I know you care, Cheol, so let me talk about it." "I don't care." "Yes, you do! Jesus Christ, the two of you are fucking idiots! It's like neither of you understand that you can put your pride aside and feel the things you want to because suddenly it means you're admitting to being human!" Joshua pushes off the bed as Seungcheol peers over his shoulder at him. Joshua runs a hand over his face, "I've known Y/N for over a decade. I've seen her through everything; through grief, in love, in financial crisis, on vacation, and throwing her guts up after drinking too much. I know that girl from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and trust me when I say that she's just not good at admitting her feelings. Do you know how long it took for her to admit she had feelings for Wonpil? Two years. He graduated early and she was still pining after him, I had to tell him myself. And now, I'm telling you." Joshua walks over to Seungcheol, his hand on his shoulder as he leans in.

"I love Y/N, more than anything. She is my best friend, she's my rock and I have no problem taking care of her. But if I have to mend her broken heart because you can't be a man…Seungcheol, I can't imagine it will end well for you."

"It's not me who doesn't want her." Seungcheol speaks softly, tonguing his cheek. "I told her in the car…when I dropped her off last night. I told her that it was her that was pushing me away, because she can't let go of who I used to be. I explained, and I told her I've changed. It's up to her, Joshua, because she tries to convince herself of feelings she doesn't have. She tries to convince herself she doesn't like me. Not me."

The younger man's eyes soften, and he sighs. "She's just scared." "I don't bite." Seungcheol whispers." No matter how much of a dog she thinks I am."

"She did not say that." "She did. And it's fine. I'm not here to cause a scene, I'm here to celebrate my friend's birthday and get wasted. So…let's go, Shua." Seungcheol forces a small smile, seeing the concern lace in the back of his friend's eyes as he pushes past him. He slips out of the bedroom, barreling down the stairs of the cabin with Joshua in tow. He slips his shoes back on, making his way towards the back of the cabin.

"Is everyone here?" He speaks over his shoulder, and Joshua makes an affirmative noise. Seungcheol peers out over the shaded back porch, seeing all their friends scattered around the fire and you, silently sipping a beer as Junhui tells a story Seungcheol can't quite make out as he steps out.

"Cheol!" Junhui yells, "you made it!" The two men slink out of the cabin, Seungcheol forcing yet another smile on his lips as he greets almost everyone with a quick hug. Someone hands him a beer, someone else shoves him in a chair and Chan is sopping wet from (presumably) being thrown in the lake – but all he can think about is how hard he wants to mistake the heat of your eyes for the flame of the fire.

He tries to be in the moment, to listen to Junhui's excited stories about being overseas. He tries to focus when Jeonghan talks about his solo trip to Bali and how he got scammed into buying cat food by a cat. He tries to laugh when they laugh, he tries to ignore the sinking pit in his stomach when you softly ask if anyone wants s'mores; and he's unsuccessful as he notices the way your hands clenched into fists at your sides, thumbs shoved into the front pockets of your shorts.

He feels his heart ache when you return with your arms full of things; marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate bars and he can't help but let his body take over and help you. He takes the ingredients from your arms, your eyes watery when your hands brush his wrist with a soft thanks. He tongues his cheek as the lump builds in his throat, rapidly blinking the tears that build in his eyes away. He doesn't respond – only breaking the cracker box open and laying them out on the tray you'd tucked under your arm, portioning the chocolate out accordingly. He watches as you sit and roast your marshmallow in silence, smiling quietly at Junhui as he talks about Minghao visiting him during the winter holidays. 

He knows the group is aware something has happened between the two of you when you take a cracker from Seungcheol, only to offer it right back with your blazen marshmallow. He knows you know the group is aware when you blow the fire out on the melting sweet treat, placing another cracker on top before putting it in his hand and casually continuing the conversation.

He knows you want him to know you're glad he's there, when you pass him a beer and whisper in his ear: I was worried you wouldn't come. No one was looking at the two of you then, rummaging through the coolers for drinks or sneaking off in all directions to pee in the forest when there are three free bathrooms inside the cabin. FOMO, he assumes, but he only looks up at you and gives you a small shrug – trying so hard to ignore the way your eyes flicker to his lips before you slink away and into your chair four feet away.

He aches to reach for your hand, nearly crushing the beer can in your grip. He aches to hold you close as Joshua smooths your hair down in passing, shoving a slice of watermelon in your hand and telling you to eat. He aches to slip in the chair next to you, close to you, the way Hansol does when he asks if you're okay. Your voice is only soft as you say I'm fine, just tired.

He decides to turn in early, claiming a headache when Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung start bothering you. Joshua tells him to rest well, and set an alarm for eight-thirty because the group was going to the waterfalls in the morning. He nods, but he's sure your shriek from being picked up by Mingyu and thrown into the lake could've been heard all the way back into the city. He could hear music start playing outside through the wall of the cabin as he slipped inside, his thoughts not drowned by the hot water of the shower pelting the back of his head; in the bathroom that he realizes is a Jack-and-Jill with your room as he hears slamming on the other side.

He pretends not to hear your grumbling and the schlop of your wet clothes being taken off as he pulls his shirt over his head, walking out into his bedroom for the weekend. He pretends not to hear you say ouch! when he hears a shampoo bottle clatter on the bathtub floor as he's pulling his sweatpants over his hips.

…And he lets a singular tear fall when he hears a soft sob through the bathroom wall, pulling the duvet over his shoulder and staring at your graduation photo with his heart in his throat.

It's nearing two in the morning, and you can't sleep. 

It's raining, and you're sitting on the back porch in your underwear. Everyone had long gone to bed, feeling stupefied by the heat of the fire and the side effects of too many beers each. Your friends had a wonderful first night at the cabin, and most of them didn't notice the carefully timed sniffling or the way you quickly wiped any stray tears from falling down your face. You could tell they sensed something was off though, going as far as having Mingyu throw you in the lake fully clothed to shock you out of it. It didn't, and you stormed upstairs and cried your eyes out in the shower. You only went back downstairs to help Joshua to his room after your shower, his cheek rested on your head as you hauled him into his bed before he spoke to you.

"You're not going to be able to sleep until you and Seungcheol talk things out, you know. Just…listen to me, for once. Yeah?"

And the words lingered in your mind before you came outside. Your knees to your chest as you sat in the wooden swing that belonged to your grandmother, just watching the rain pelt the lake. The wet air felt gross against your bare legs, your underwear barely peeking out of the oversized shirt you donned before bed. However, the feeling was drowned out by the tears that filled your eyes again – and you felt stupid, because it's not like you and Seungcheol had been together. It wasn't like he and you broke up or anything, so it didn't really make sense to feel the way you did. You were angry at yourself, knowing he'd carefully taken down every brick of the wall you'd set up faster than a New York minute the moment you saw him. He'd chipped away at you, pulling you closer and closer, only for your words to say something you didn't mean – words you had meant only a month earlier, and now it felt like your heart was going to come out of your throat.

Maybe it's all a side effect of refusing to feel something and losing everything he is in the process.

And you just sit and think. You think about your past relationships – really, just Wonpil. He had been a good guy, really…he just had a tendency to leave right after sex. The dates were lovely and long-winded, carefully planned. He made so much time for you outside of his busy work schedule, even when you told him you understood dating a college girl wasn't exactly ideal for someone with his workload. He made you feel seen, just for a moment – and the sex itself wasn't all that bad, either. But you did feel a bit empty. Eventually, the bits of empty became a lot of feeling empty – and you ended it quietly over a final time in his apartment together. He tried to apologize, to make it up to you, he even begged – but you'd stoically pulled your jeans on and left without another word. 

It bothered you. You didn't know how to bring it up and you'd only really had sex for the last year of your relationship, so it didn't seem worth it, anyway. However, it did leave you confused when Joshua didn't do the same thing. You'd physically kicked him out of your bed the last two times the two of you slept together – but not before you realized that the gentle caresses, the warm towel wiping you down, the hot bath…it didn't make you feel empty. You didn't feel empty.

Sighing inwardly, you let the tears flow freely, taking a quick drag of the joint in your hand. Soonyoung had managed to get a few before you and Joshua picked him up in the van, and you stole one from his suitcase when you snuck outside; snatching a lighter from Minghao before he and his girlfriend settled in for the night. You smushed your cheek in the crook of your elbow, before you heard the click of the back door opening.

You glance up, seeing Seungcheol's eyes wide as he spotted you. You felt your throat dry, swallowing hard before clearing it.

"Hey."

He gives you a curt nod, before slipping out and closing the door gently behind him. He has a beer in his hand, his forefinger flicking the tab cautiously as he looks out in the forest. You glanced up at him, before he met your eyes.

"You can sit." You patted the cushion next to you, and he looked hesitant before doing so. He leaned back slightly, before pushing the swing to rock lightly. You clear your throat again, hearing him crack the beer open before seeing him hold it out to you. You look at him with a confused look, before his cool fingertips swipe at your wet cheeks. You don't move away, and he sighs, lightly brushing his knuckles against your skin before pulling back.

"You need it more than I do." He shrugs, before plucking the joint from your fingers and shoving the beer into your hand. You click your tongue, before taking a small sip. It's cool down your throat, and you set it down between the two of you. "How was the drive?" "Good. Quiet." He nods, flicking the ash off the end of the lit joint before taking a quick drag. "Got lost a few times but…here I am." You snort, "Yeah, she's hard to find. My old man did it on purpose."

Seungcheol nods, a small smile on his lips as he blows the smoke out carefully. He holds it back out to you, your fingers brushing his as you take it gently. He hums, reaching for the beer and clicking his tongue.

"Joshua talked to me, you know." He starts, and you nod silently. You already knew, based on Joshua's demeanor when he walked out of the house with Seungcheol earlier. His shoulders were too rigid to have not scolded someone. "Said that you're a crybaby princess who can't talk about her feelings or you'll combust into flames and engulf us all." "He did not say that!" You huff, and the small smirk on his lip says you're right. You scowl, kicking his thigh softly when he catches your foot. He pulls you toward him, your hip bumping his as he drapes your leg over his lap, his hand high on your bare thigh. You feel your face hot as he stares down at you, eyes full of what you're sure you've mistaken as fondness. "Stop looking at me like that." "I can look at you however I want." He murmurs, his fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face. "Do you remember when we first met?" "...You mean a month ago?" "I mean freshman year on Jeonghan's birthday."

You blink, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. "What?" "Mhm. We met freshman year at Jeonghan's birthday party. It was right after Jaehee dumped me but before you knew it, because it was like you'd never heard of me before. You had this red top on with gold earrings and you looked so beautiful." He sighs softly, before his fingers drum onto your shoulder. "I was so convinced I'd get a crush on you that I actively avoided the group after finding out how close you and Joshua were to Jeonghan. I wasn't going to ruin a friendship of over a decade with Jeonghan and Joshua by dating their friend. And then the circle just kept getting bigger and I was adamant I wouldn't get close to you, I didn't want to sully anything if I wasn't what you wanted." You look up at him, but he keeps talking. "And I saw how you acted when you'd see me at games after Jaehee told you whatever it is that she did. I saw you cheering for Wonwoo and Junhui all the time and I remember how I felt my knees weak every time I saw you in the stands just sipping on a lemonade." He snorts, "I saw you at all of Jihoon's recitals, and you always had a huge bouquet of flowers. But I knew you were friends with Jaehee, and I knew that that was why you acted the way you did. So I wasn't very surprised to find out that you don't remember meeting me after disliking me for so long without even so much as remembering my face." "I remembered your name, that was enough." You weakly argue, and he laughs softly. It's softer, it's real as he squeezes your shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, Seungcheol. I've been such a jerk–" He doesn't let you finish, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. You frown as he pulls back, your hand moving to the back of his head and pulling him down. Your lips meet his continuously; soft, damp kisses that taste like beer and weed and I'm sorry.

"You don't need to apologize, okay? If anything, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was wrong to talk to you the way I did. I felt too much at once and that's my problem, not yours and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've talked about it and then maybe we'd be in a different position right now. But if I dwell on the maybes, on the what ifs, on what I should've done, I'll never get anywhere."

His hand is warm against your cheek as he keeps you close, your lips pouted as he sprinkles kisses all over your face. His teeth nip at your cheek playfully, making you scowl as you attempt to move back when he soothes it with a brush of his lips.

"I like you a lot. You don't have to like me back, but I just wanted you to know. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and it's ruining me. You are ruining me."

"Come sleep in my room." You murmur, your cheeks hot and feeling him nod as he presses another kiss to your lips. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You both slide off the swing, your hand instinctively taking his as you put the joint out in the ashtray. You toss it into the beer can, throwing it away in the porch trashcan before pulling the cabin door open and slipping inside. He's warm against your back as you go up the stairs, his hand squeezing yours as you lead him into the bedroom you chose for the weekend.

You lie across the bed as he takes a seat at the head of it, his shoulders resting against the headboard. He gives you a quizzical look, patting his lap before you crawl over to him and swing your legs over his. Your thighs lock him beneath you, and you bury your face in his neck. You feel his hands run up and down your hips as he peppers kisses along your hairline before planting a kiss on your shoulder. The closeness isn't nearly enough, and you're practically vibrating out of your skin as he presses another soft kiss to your neck.

"You never told me if I was a bad kisser or not." You mumble into his skin, and you feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. He slides his hands up your back, stroking it gently before you feel a teasing smile against your cheek.

"You didn't give me enough data." You gape, pulling your face back to see him smiling cheekily. "Yes I did! You're just greedy."

"Oh, incredibly. Greedy, jealous…all of it. Nice underwear, by the way." He snaps the waistband against your hip, and you swat his hand away with a frown. "You're really are a whore." 

"I can show you how much of a whore I am, keep it up." He scoffs, and you roll your eyes despite the surge of heat to your cheeks. "What happened to California Celibate? Liar." "Mmh. It's still there…somewhere. Can't find it right now. You're so warm." He hums, nosing at your face as your hand grips his shirt. "Stop it, you're embarrassing me." "Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart, but I guess we'll never know if you're a bad kisser or not." "I am a good kisser, I don't need to prove that to you again."

"But you want to, don't you?" You don't like the way your skin pickles so noticeably at his smile, before he softly buries his face in your neck. You feel his lips brush against your skin, his fingers squeezing your hips softly. He's nipping at your neck gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you bite down on your lip. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as his tongue trails up your neck, your breath coming out in a shudder as his teeth catch your earlobe.

"Can we take this off?" He tugs lightly at the hem of your shirt, and you scoff, your fingers moving to tug the hem up. "I thought you just wanted to see if I'm a bad kisser."  He smiles against your jaw, pressing a kiss on it before pulling you higher on his lap. "You're an excellent kisser, and we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, okay? Just wanna see you, pretty." You roll your eyes, your cheeks heating as you pull the shirt over your head and toss it behind you. You dip your head down to kiss him and he eagerly meets your lips, his fingers tightening around your hips as yours card through his hair. You tug slightly, his hips jerking up involuntarily and making you moan into his mouth. His arm moves to wrap loosely around your hips, his other hand stroking your hip gently before sliding up to the base of your neck. He gives a soft squeeze, chuckling lowly as he draws a whimper out of you.

"So cute." "Shut up, take your shirt off." He obliges, letting you pull the hem up. He slips it off, throwing it to the side as your hands shamelessly run up his soft chest, the glint of a silver bar through his left nipple catching your attention. You lightly dig your nails into his shoulders, noting the soft blush that coats his cheeks as he looks away, his hands roaming your thighs aimlessly. Raising a brow, you keep your eyes on his face as you dip your head into the curve of his neck; your lips brushing along his skin as he shivers. Your hands run down his arms, and you move back a bit to see his cheeks and ears burning red. His lips are swollen from kissing you, and you stupidly clench around nothing as you tilt your head at him. "Don't look at me like that." He murmurs, his fingers tightening slightly against your thighs. You smile inwardly, "Like what?" "Like you're going to eat me. Just do it." You nod slowly, hearing Joshua's voice in your mind – Seungcheol was exactly your type: broad shoulders, thick thighs…tries to put you in your place. You tongue your cheek, your fingers tracing circles into his chest as he watches you intently; he flinches as your palm swipes over his pierced nipple, your brows raising slightly. You rub the pad of your thumb over it again, feeling his hips twitch beneath you. You do it again, slightly harder with a gentle pinch, his jaw tight as you smile inwardly.

"So that's what you meant." You murmur, before leaning down slightly. "What if I…do this?" You run the tip of your tongue over the bud, hearing him suck in a breath. You smile against his skin, before flattening your tongue against him and slowly swirling it around. His hips grind up into your core, and you feel a flood of arousal seep into your underwear as his dull nails dig into your skin with a shaky breath. You suck lightly, his hands pressing you down against his hardening cock with a grip so tight, you hope it'll bruise.

“Shit—”  “Oh, you’re so fucking cute.”

You peer up at him, his head thrown back and cheeks ruddy as you gently scrape your teeth against the nub, pulling at the jewelry — when you hear a soft whimper fall from his lips. His hand moves to card through your hair, your tongue still out of your mouth as he pulls you back gently before crashing his lips to yours. It was the opposite of all the others so far; it was desperate, messy, horny, as he held you pressed to him, the feeling of him rutting against your flimsy underwear making you ache with want.

Your fingers stay splayed on his chest, slowly sliding down his stomach as he whines into your mouth. He pulls away, trailing his lips down your jaw, his hips dragging agonizingly slowly against you.

“Touch me.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Please, touch me.”

“So pretty when you beg, hm?” You nip at his neck, your hand palming him over his sweatpants and earning a shiver. You squeeze your hand around him, his hips bucking up into your palm as you smile into his skin. “So sensitive.”

He's blushing hard as you press your lips to his again, kissing him slowly; your fingers pulling at the strings of his sweatpants. His hand is still settled at the base of your throat, pulling you impossibly closer as he slides his tongue into your mouth with practised ease. You tug at his waistband slightly, his fingers flexing around your neck pulling a whine from your throat – and you dip your fingertips below the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling his stomach cave in slightly as you brush the tip of his leaking cock.

"You don't have–" You cut him off with a chaste kiss, your hands pulling at the fabric again before speaking against his lips. "I want to. Take your pants off." 

"Take them off me." He sinks his teeth into your lower lip lightly, pulling it before kissing you deeply. You don't break the kiss as you pull his sweatpants down slightly, and he lifts his hips a bit to get them off. You push them down, leaving them bunched at his knees before he leans forward and pushes them off the rest of the way – his hands sliding back to settle on your ass with a soft squeeze. You pull away from his lips, resting your forehead low on his as you peer down, your eyes widening slightly at the sight against his lower belly.

"No underwear, hm. Slut." You mutter under your breath as your fingers wrap around his hard cock, warm in your palm as you glance down. Thick, with a few pearls of precum dripping down the shaft that smear when you run your fingertip through it.. "Yours." He murmurs back, your eyes flickering to meet his. He's staring at your mouth, cheeks red as he nibbles on his lip. You squeeze your hand around him, making his lips part with a soft exhale. "Hm?" "Yours. Your slut." He whispers, a slight shake to his voice as you feel your face grow hot. You tilt your head, nodding slowly before leaning forward and letting a wad of spit fall from your lips onto his tip. You smile inwardly at the way he bucks into your hand as you smear it around, pressing the pad of your thumb into the slit before glancing back up.

His eyes are low as he shudders, tucking his lip beneath his teeth as his fingernails dig into your hips. You slip your free hand up his chest as you pump his cock, the wet sound accompanied by soft pants from his lips as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your hand brushes over his nipple, his lips parting as you roll it through your fingers. You can feel the way he holds himself back from thrusting into your hand, his fingers tight around your waist when you press a soft kiss to his lips.

"So needy." You coo against his lips, feeling his breath hit your lips as he pants against you. "You're not even looking at me, maybe I should stop–" He whimpers in response, burying his face into your neck and mouthing at the skin. His sounds are incoherent, almost as if he's trying to form words as you pinch his nipple. The groan he lets out is loud, and you part your lips to say something when you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder. Your hand squeezes him tight, a moan right in your ear as your own falls from your lips, turning into a pitchy whimper when he runs his tongue over the marks of his teeth on your skin. 

"Please…" He breathes out, like he's not even sure what he's asking for. You push him back gently, his back hitting the headboard as your hand splays on his chest. His eyes are watery, lips swollen as you try not to think about how painfully turned on you are. You quicken your pace, feeling him shiver as his stomach caves in slightly; pitiful whimpers from his throat as he lets his head fall back against the headboard, lashes wet.

You shift slightly, the uncomfortable feeling of your underwear sticking to you as you glance down at his cock. So heavy in your hand, twitching uncontrollably and making your mouth water. His thighs are trembling slightly, and you move his hands off you before scooting back on his legs and dipping your head down. You press the tip of his cock on your tongue, his hips bucking up involuntarily with a soft moan. 

"You don't have to–" His voice is so breathy you almost don't catch what he's saying until a punctuated fuck rings in your ears as you wrap your lips around him with a soft suck. His fingers card through your hair shakily, gathering it in his hand as you take him deeper. Your nails dig into his thighs, drawing yet another whimper from him as he shallowly fucked into your mouth. You bob your head up and down slowly, swirling your tongue around the tip and curling your fingers around whatever doesn't fit; hearing his breathing get ragged above you. You swallow around him, feeling his hips still and his grip on your hair tighten a bit as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You groan around him, the vibrations enough to send him over the edge with a soft whine.

He scrapes his fingernails on your scalp gently, incoherent grumbles as your tongue overstimulates him. He pushes you back slightly, making you slide off his cock with a pop. A bit of his release dribbles down your chin, his tongue swiping across it before you can even reach to wipe your face. He doesn't let you, kissing you hard as he leans into you, his hand your belly pushing you onto your back gently. He pins you against the mattress by sliding his hand to lightly rest on your neck, your legs wrapping around his waist as you slide your tongue into his mouth. He groans at the taste of himself on you, sucking on the tip of your tongue before you feel his cock press against your thigh. You let your hand circle his wrist, pulling away from his lips and looking up at him – the same empty feeling getting ready to settle in your lower belly, and you don't want it to. He meets your eyes, pupils blown as you swallow carefully. He tilts his head, scanning your face as your fingers card through his hair, silently tracing the shell of his ear before resting on his cheek. He leans into it, pressing a kiss to the heel of your palm before his eyes look questioning.

"This…you're not going to leave after, right?" Your voice is so quiet he has to lean down a bit, and you clear your throat. "You're…you're going to stay, right?"

He furrows his brows as you look at the ceiling above him, his hand slipping up from your neck to hold your jaw. He makes you look at him, your vision slightly blurry through tears as he rests his forehead to yours. You cover your eyes with your hands, breathing in shakily before dropping them to your sides and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Of course I'm going to stay, Y/N. I'll stay forever, if you let me." He presses his lips to your cheek, and you roll your eyes as a tear manages to slip out. You wipe it away quickly, "Sorry. It's stupid." "No, it's not. Don't be sorry, baby. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He runs his fingers over your cheek, squishing the fat between his knuckles before tracing the shell of your ear. "We can stop here. I'll just–" "I want you to touch me." You interrupt, your voice almost too loud as his eyes widen. You feel your face hot as you avoid eye contact, the uncomfortable feeling of your underwear sticking to you becoming unbearable. You shift, thighs twitching when you feel his cock brush over your ruined panties. "I want you, Cheol." He hums, his own question slipping out carefully.

"You like me, right?" His voice is no higher than a whisper, "You want to be mine, right? More than this, more than tonight?"

You nod silently, your fingernail moving to trace shapes in his chest. His fingers slide between yours, pinning them to the side of your head. "I need to hear you say it, pretty." "Want to be yours." You utter softly, "as long as you'll have me." 

You don't get to say much else before his lips are on yours again, his hand slipping out of yours to cup your jaw. He trails off your lips, kissing down your jaw and snaking his tongue down your neck, relishing in your soft sighs. "So beautiful." He mumbles, his lips messy across your chest, his fingers moving to hold your hips as he makes his way down your body. His tongue is swirled against your left nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking softly as you push your chest up with a choked groan. He smirks against your skin, pulling off with a wet sound before his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear. His lips stay on your chest, nipping all over it as he carefully tugs it down. He sucks a soft mark onto your collarbone, your skin prickling from the cool air as he tosses your underwear over his shoulder. He glances up at you as he slides his hand between your thighs, your own shyly covering your cheeks and lips. He spreads them, the air making you flinch slightly as he presses a soft kiss to your right nipple; before you feel his fingers slip lower, gathering your arousal with his tongue circling the hardened bud.

Your hand slides into his hair as he traces tight circles into your clit, making your room fill with bitten back whimpers, and your thighs tremble pathetically. He only smiles against your body as he moves down your belly, leaving careful nips of his teeth on the softness of your skin. He spreads your thighs further with his shoulders, and you feel your face heat up as he presses a kiss to your hip and circles his arms around your thighs to pull you closer. 

His tongue slides slowly through your wet folds, flicking against your clit in a tentative lick; you feel a breathy chuckle against your skin as your hands claw at the bedsheets. You squirm against his tongue, feeling his lips pull your clit into his mouth and give a soft suck. A guttural moan rips through you as he laves his tongue over your clit, your fingers carding into his hair with a tight tug. He groans into your pussy, your body involuntarily rocking your hips on his tongue as he laps up your arousal like a man starved. You hate how quickly you can taste your impending orgasm on your tongue, your thighs snapping shut around his head as he traces your hole with his finger.

"Wanna cum on your cock," You whine, pulling at his hair. He looks up at you, pouty lips not stopping their sucking as you pant out. He hums, replacing his mouth with his fingers as his raspy voice fills the room. 

"I don't have any–" "I don't care. Please, please–" "Shh, shh. I got you, okay? So greedy."

You huff, his laugh only making you lightly kick his thigh with your foot as he towers over you. He scowls, grabbing your ankle and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he slides off. Your squeal makes his lips twitch, but he doesn't say anything as he  leans over, placing a soft kiss on your lips as his hand slips between your legs. 

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist, "No, wanna feel you. I'm ready." The blush on his cheeks spreads to his ears, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he shakes his head, "Baby, I–"

"Please."  "Who's begging now?" "Shut up!" He only laughs, his hands sliding down your thighs and hooking behind your knees; pushing them to your chest. He lets go to press his thumb against your clit, your thighs threatening to clamp shut around his hand as he rubs slow circles into it. He pushes them apart, holding you to his hips so his cock rests on your dripping center.

He grunts, your legs shaking with oversensitivity as he grinds his cock against you, tip bumping your clit messily and smearing your arousal all over his shaft. He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing the side of your foot as you feel his fingers splay on your lower belly.

“Here.” He runs his thumb just under your navel, “you’re gonna feel me here.”

Your eyes widen as he teases the tip of his cock around your hole, your hips bucking up at the sensation before he sinks in slowly. You let out a shaky breath, his hand massaging your thighs as you watch his face. He pushes in a bit further, his eyes nearly fluttering shut at how warm and wet you are.

His hand squeezes your thigh, burying himself in fully with a soft fuck from his lips. Your mouth waters at the stretch; feeling his thumb toying with your clit as your walls flutter around him.

“So perfect for me.” He mumbles inwardly, giving a careful thrust that makes you let out a sob. He leans over, his hands running up your body as your legs wrap around his waist, his lips finding yours in a needy kiss. “Mine, right? Just for me.”

“Yours.” You whine, watching the way his cheeks flush and he bites down on your lip, watching it spring back before sliding his fingers into yours. He buries his face in your neck, your hand digging your nails into his shoulder as he gives another roll of his hips. You feel him smile into your skin as your eyes roll back with a soft whimper, your thighs tightening around his waist. His fingers are bruising, his breath hitting your neck as he mutters praises into your ear.

"Look at you." He whispers, giving a hard thrust that makes your voice break as you drag your nails down his back. “My pretty angel takes my cock so well, hm?”

Your mumble of oh my God is interrupted with whimpers falling from your lips as his hips snap into you like he hates you. You throw your head back against the sheets with a choked groan as he moves to pin your wrists to the mattress with one of his hands. You close your eyes in embarrassment, tilting your head away from him when you feel his lips on your jaw.

“Don’t hide, baby. Wanna see your pretty face.” He trails his mouth to your lips, pressing chaste kisses to your open mouth. His hand moves to hold your jaw, keeping you in place as he kisses you sloppily and smiling into your lips as you struggle to keep up. He slides down your jaw once more, brushing his lips to your neck and nipping at the skin. He sucks a small mark just below your ear, his skin prickling as you moan in his ear.

"M-more, Cheollie..." You mouth messily at his neck, sinking your teeth into his shoulder; a hard thrust of his hips making your belly cave in as it brushes the stupid spongy spot that makes you see stars. You clamp down around him, hearing a pathetic whine into your neck as he does it again and again and again; making your eyes glaze over with tears of pleasure as your pussy flutters around him, the coil in your lower belly threatening to snap.

He pulls away, his hands moving to settle on your hips. His cheeks are flushed, lip tucked under his teeth as he fucks into you. He furrows his brows, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him before snaking his hand down to play with your clit. Your thighs threaten to close around his hips but he forces them apart as your fingers wrap around the base of his throat to pull him into you. You ghost your lips over his, taunting him before he bridges the gap when your fingers give a soft squeeze, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

"Want you to fill me up," You pant out, "Want to feel full."

He only whines into your mouth, his hips stuttering slightly as you clench around him, your orgasm making your limbs feel fuzzy and making you clench around him. He buries his face in your neck before spilling into you with an audible whimper. He doesn't stop rocking his hips into you, your nails dragging down his shoulders with breathy moans in his ear.

He presses a kiss to your skin, moving to pull back before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. "Don't leave." "M'not going anywhere, sweetheart. I'm here." He presses his forehead to yours, his lips ghosting over yours. "I'm here." 

"You're sweaty." You mutter, and he gasps with a squeeze to your hips. "And you aren't?"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. You…smell nice." You bury your face in his neck, "I like it." 

He only laughs softly, before feeling your hand snake down to his chest. You run the pad of your thumb over his collarbone, before you peer up at him through your lashes. "Hi." "Hi, sweetheart." "Will you shower with me?" "You mean will I hold you up because your legs feel like jelly?" "I mean will you go down on me against the shower tile." "So I am just a good fuck to you. No dinner, not even a drink." He turns his nose up at you, and you bite back your laughter as he carefully slides out of you. Your face scrunches with a wince, "At least you were good." He snorts, carefully wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling you off the bed. You let him carry you to the bathroom, and you lean your head against his shoulder when you pass by the mirror. You look like a couple; his thick fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he holds you close to him, the swell of your lips and his….the bite marks littering your upper bodies marking each other as lovers for the night.

And you feel your chest tight when you wonder if it's just for the night, feeling your eyes burn when his lips plant a kiss to your hairline.

The morning is quiet, and Seungcheol doesn't know what to do with himself when he sees you're glued to his side like gum to a shoe.

He can't imagine being able to peel himself from your embrace, your cheek squished against his chest and a bit of drool dripping from your puckered lips. Your neck and shoulders are littered with marks from his teeth, the duvet low on your back where his shirt is bunched up and your arm thrown over his waist. Your hair is in disarray, sticking up in some places when his hand moves to smooth it down.

He peeks at the clock on the nightstand, the red numbers showing 7AM sharp. He closes his eyes, running his fingertips along the side of your face as you grumble noises into his skin. 

His mind fills with the night before — the way you begged to be filled, how you touched yourself, the way your nails scratched into the muscle of his back and marked him as yours. The way you kissed his cheek and told him how pretty he was – all for you – right before you fell asleep.

He feels his chest warm as he recalls your tired groans when he massaged your hips, digging his fingers into your sore muscles after wiping you down. The way you kissed him softly, the way your hands brushed his shoulders as he held you against him in the shower, and he bites back a laugh as he remembers your sleepy voice telling him to never wear a shirt again.

He remembers your insistence that you were his, even when he didn't beg you to hear it. 

“Time?” 

He looks down to see you still resting against his chest, but your hand has come to wipe at your eyes. He watches you silently, before you pat his stomach lightly. “Seungcheol.”

You stretch your arms out, pressing a kiss to his skin. He loves the heat of the blush that coats his face as you press your cheek to his chest again, closing your eyes. "Time?"

“Seven. You slept two hours.”

“Shit. I lost rock-paper-scissors on the way here and said I’d make breakfast.”

He shakily runs a hand over your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear and tracing the shell of it. You hum softly, "We have to get up." "You're the one who still has her eyes closed." "I'm tired. And sore. Fuck you." "You have. No notes, by the way."

He squeals as you dig your fingers into his side, swatting your hand away and pulling the covers up to his eyes as you sit up. There's a scowl on your lip, your hair matted to the side of your head as you tug on the cover. He holds it tighter, smiling beneath it when he sees you tongue your cheek in efforts to hold back a grin. You cross your arms on your chest, his cheeks warming as you raise a brow at him.

"Get up." "Oh, I'm up. Trust me."

You gape, your fingers yanking the cover off him. He yanks it back, pulling your hand with it and wrapping his arm around you as you fall into his chest with feigned annoyance. He smiles as you try to push yourself out of his embrace, only tightening his hold around your waist as he manhandles you to sit on his lap. Your brow is furrowed, your hands wrapping around his wrists as he settles them on your hips. You frown as you feel him hard against your inner thigh, and you let your eyes flutter shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"You're a fucking freak." You mutter as you let your hands fall to his chest, running them up his skin before shaking your head. "We can't, Cheol. I have to make breakfast and the drive to the falls is an hour. There are a few natural hot springs scattered around, though, if you want to go for a dip." "Will you go with me?" He tilts his head, and you nod slowly. You look at your hands, toying with the drawstring of the shorts he shoved on when you fell asleep. You're nibbling on your lip, and he sits up slowly to meet your eyes. "You can talk to me, you know." "I know." "Then?" "You…are we…" You rub your hands over your face in frustration, and he bites back a small bubble of laughter that crawls up his throat. He slides his hands over your hips, pulling you close to his chest as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders. He feels his chest warm as you bury your face in his neck, lips brushing his skin before you press a chaste kiss to it. "Are we what, sweetheart?" "You know…" "Mmh, I don't believe I do." "Ugh, Cheol." You grumble, and he lets the laughter rip through him as you smack his shoulder lightly. "It's not funny! I'm nervous!" "Don't be nervous, baby. It's just me." "Yeah well…you make me nervous." "Just say what you wanna say. Judgement free zone for my pretty girl."

You stifle a squeal into his shoulder, your arms tightening around him as he snakes his hands under your (read: his) shirt. His fingers trace your back lightly, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You think I'm pretty." Your voice is soft, your fingers tracing circles into his back as you hold him impossibly tighter. "You want me to be your girlfriend so bad, don't you?" "Well, yeah–" "Fine, fine! I'll do it, jeez. Don't have to beg."

You roll your eyes as you pull back, but he feels the way your nails dig into his skin slightly. There is a hint of insecurity laced in your face as you press your lips to his forehead, and he rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. "Y/N." "Don't say my name like that, I feel like I'm in trouble." "Look at me."

You glance down wearily, and he watches how you carefully card your fingers through his hair as you nibble on your lip. "Mhm?" "I thought you understood that I was serious last night." "I…I didn't want to get ahead of myself, I guess. I didn't want to assume–" "I mean what I say and I say what I mean. I like you a lot, Y/N." His hands travel to your shoulders, holding them gently as he feels your heartbeat start racing under his palms. "I'm not leaving, I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you, more than just last night. You said…you said you wanted that, too." "I do! I do…I just…" You run your hands over your face, a noise of frustration sounding from your throat as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I just have issues." "So do I." "I have a lot of issues, Cheol. More than Vogue." "I like to read. Hit me." You snort, letting a sigh out as you drape your arms over his shoulders again. "I need to go downstairs and start breakfast. I…I like you, too. We can figure out the logistics later."

"Or you can seal your fate with a kiss." "Oh, you're corny. I hate that." "You'll get over it. Kiss me."

You lean over slightly as he puckers his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to them when a knock makes the two of you jolt. The door opens before you can climb off his lap, his hands tightening around your body as you twist to see Joshua and Jeonghan with mussed hair and toothbrushes in their hands.

Joshua's eyes dart between the two of you, before a sly smile creeps onto his face. He covers it with his hand, and Jeonghan scratches the side of his head before looking Seungcheol dead in the eyes. He feels you tense in his hold as Jeonghan rounds the bed, opening the nightstand and fishing out a new box of floss. "What are you guys still doing in bed? Nip Slip Nancy lost rock-paper-scissors, she has to make breakfast." Jeonghan's voice is gravelly, and you slump in Seungcheol's lap. You pat his shoulder, moving to get up when he holds you against him.

"Can you guys get out? We're trying to have a conversation." He frowns, and Joshua snorts. "Downstairs before seven-forty-five. We have to load the van and we have to eat breakfast. That includes the two of you, no matter how…preoccupied you are." Jeonghan shrugs, leaving an obnoxiously long string of floss between his teeth as he pivots back out of the bedroom. "If you're not down in five minutes, I'm airing your business out."

He tugs Joshua out with him, who gives the both of you a thumbs up before shutting the door behind him. You pat his shoulder again, "I have to–" "I want you. I want you to be mine, right now. I don't want to wait to figure anything out, I know. I. Want. You, Y/N." He punctuates the words with a squeeze to your sides, watching you bite back a shy smile. "I know we haven't gone on a date or anything, but we will. We will when we get back in town, I'll take you anywhere you wanna go and we can do whatever you want; I promise." You hold your pinky out to him, giving him a pointed look until he hooks his with it. "You know Joshua will kill you if you hurt me, right?" "Ooh, don't arrest me officer. I might like the cuffs." He rolls his eyes, and you gape. "I said that to him and he said I was something else! What does that even mean?!"

"That you'll say yes to being my girlfriend." "And if I say no?" "I'll tell everyone you're a bad kisser that has morning breath." "Yeah?" You smile softly, and he feels his stomach flip as you rest your forehead against his. He can't help but grin back, "Please? I'll wait if you want–" "I'll be your girlfriend. But I have rules, Seungcheol." "If this is about me not wearing shirts–" "Please stop wearing shirts. I need to see you all the time." "You're objectifying me." He grumbles, feeling you laugh into his chest before you press your lips into his. He allows it, kissing you back deeply when the smell of waffles starts wafting into the room. You pull back, your brow furrowed when you hear the banging of pots and pans – and Jeonghan screaming 'Y/N and Seungcheol sitting in a tree!'

"We'll get back to me objectifying you later, when you're naked in here again tonight. I gotta shut Jeonghan up." You twist yourself out of his hold, sliding off the bed and grabbing a robe off the bedpost. He pouts at the loss of warmth, leaning back on his hands as you skirt out of the room. He sighs, falling back onto the pillow and rubbing his hands over his face before the bed dips again and he feels your hand on his chest. You kiss him softly, "Come eat when you're dressed, pretty boy. And we can fool around in the hot springs later."

He swears he doesn't think he's ever going to get over you.

"HEY, SWEETNESS."

You struggle not to roll your eyes, feeling the cool sprinkle of water being flicked onto your thigh by a certain someone. You look away from the magazine in your hands, your boyfriend pouting at the edge of the pool you're laying by. Your foot is in the water, keeping you cool in the hot August evening; and you feel his fingers circle your ankle.

His form of foreplay, you've learned over the course of the last month and a half.

"Sir, the park is closed. You have to get out of the pool." You sit up on your elbows, the magazine splayed open across your belly. He scrunches his nose, pressing a kiss to your knee before resting his cheek on it. You bite back your smile, his cheeks ruddy and warm from the heat as you lean forward to brush wet strands of hair off his forehead.

"I miss you." "I'm right here." "Get in with me." 

"Mmh, the park's closing. There's no lifeguards." You shrug, pressing your lips into a thin line so as to not laugh when he huffs. You roll your eyes, tossing the magazine onto one of the chairs before turning and lowering yourself into the pool. He pulls you into him, holding you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"No making out on the clock!" Joshua annoyingly reminds you as he walks by, still being the little shit you and Seungcheol know and (fortunately for Joshua) love. You snort, pressing a kiss to Seungcheol's jaw before wrapping your legs around his waist. He buries his face in your neck, mouthing at it gently as his hands circled your thighs under the water. 

"I miss you. Come over tonight. We can watch Fight Club and kick Jeonghan out." "You wouldn't kick Jeonghan out to watch Fight Club." "No, but I'd kick him out to make out with you on the couch. I haven't seen you in three days. Do you hate me?"

You snort inwardly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm planning your birthday party; I don't hate you, dipshit. I…" You trail off, your eyes widening as you feel the heavy words on your tongue. He stilled, before lifting his head up to raise a brow at you.

He had long said them. He said those words many, many times already – the first time being a week or so into the relationship; holding you close to him and whispering them in your ear, mumbling them in the mornings where you'd be stuck to his chest because you just loved stripping him of his shirts. He said it in front of Soonyoung in the break room just last week, who made it his mission to tell the entire friend group – they lost their minds with that one.

And he made you feel special, Seungcheol. You knew, you understood that he wasn't just saying it to say it. It held weight to him, it meant something to him. It was real and he wanted you to know.

"You…what?"

You don't respond, carding your fingers through his wet hair and thinking about the pain in the ass he'd been when you got back to town after Junhui's birthday. He sat on your bed and made you pull out every red shirt you owned to see which one he saw you wearing the first time the two of you met – the red halter immediately catching his eye, making its soft-launch debut on his Instagram story two hours later on your first date.

The mothers at the park were truly disappointed when the pretty boy with the thick brows abandoned any and all flirting attempts for Lifeguard Barbie. Though they all agreed that seeing him pine after you while you were on the clock was pathetically cute – you left a sour taste in their mouths when he'd leave with you after your morning shifts; no more half-naked eye candy who flexes to make their mouths water, instead shy and reserved.

Well, not that they didn't know he was spoken for – the drags of your nails in his back were very noticeable when he took his shirt off. If that wasn't enough, your loud whistle from wherever you were in the park when you saw him take it off certainly was. He stayed to himself, he was quiet, he was needy – constantly giving you those puppy eyes and begging you to sit with him or give him a kiss. 

Sometimes you caved, sometimes you didn't – but on nights that you got out late, you could count on Seungcheol to drive you around and pull over in that same spot from before to kiss you stupid. He made it a point to have his lips on yours any chance he could – even if it was in front of your friends, who gagged like idiots and eventually made you and Seungcheol retreat to a different room if you wanted to continue. He made you feel wanted, he listened, he held you close any time you allowed it and he practically suffocated you in his adoration.

The relationship wasn't smooth but it was genuine – and the two of you were slowly working through things. He understood how Wonpil had made you feel after you were intimate, and made it a huge point to coddle you and cater to your needs any time you allowed. He smothered you with his affection and attention, and your friends loved to comment on the dynamic shift between you and him. Sure, you still called him a whore; but he was a whore for you, so you weren't exactly complaining. 

Seungcheol made himself a constant, he made himself dependable, he made it known he cared about you in every way you would allow – even if Joshua insisted he keep paying your student loans, that he was almost done anyway and it made him feel useful. Seungcheol began littering himself in every part of your life – there were an abnormally large amount of photos of the two of you sprinkled around your bedrooms, his sweatshirts and your t-shirts strewn in drawers, a spare key to apartments on your keychains, his credit card in your wallet and a nude Polaroid of you in his…

…A new, baby blue vibrator in your bedside drawer with twenty settings and the light bill connected to his bank account on auto-pay.

And you realize that maybe you didn't need to dip yourself into the steaming hot spring that was Choi Seungcheol. Maybe you didn't have to acclimate, because he was a tumultuous being of love and light and speckles of jealousy that made your skin prickle. Maybe you didn't have to understand your feelings about him right away, because either way – he knew what he wanted and he had no problem proving to you that you were, in fact, worth his time. 

Your heart is not solid, but it's no longer guarded by you, either – it rests in the safe embrace of Choi Seungcheol's hands, at his mercy.

"You what, Y/N?" He tilted his head at you, the glint in the back of his eye giddy as you tongued your cheek. He peppered kisses all over your face as you feigned annoyance, but ultimately you sighed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. "C'mon, pretty girl. Say it. Tell me you love me." "You're such a Leo." "And?"

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as your boyfriend smiled into your skin. "And I love you."

"Suddenly the sky is brighter–" "Don't start." "I can hear birds singing–" "You are so dramatic!"

He only laughs, his hands squeezing your thighs again as he presses his forehead to yours. "You remember when you said when you run with dogs, you get fleas?"

You roll your eyes, nodding reluctantly. "I do." "How's that working out for you?" "Don't piss me off, Seungcheol." "I love you."

"I said no making out!" Joshua's voice crackles through the intercom, and you scoff as you give Seungcheol a soft, brief kiss before pulling away. 

"Come on, I'll clock out and we can make out in your shower." "And the couch?" "Even on the floor, if you're a good boy."

"You love me." He murmured as you tried to untangle yourself from him, his hands keeping you close. "Tell me you love me, sweetheart." "I love you, Cheol." "I love you, too, Lifeguard Barbie."

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[belikejk]

“Should I lose wei-“

NO GOD NO PLEASE PLEASE NOOOO KEEP IT OMG SEUNGCHEOL PLEASEEEE

7:55 pm

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Pairing: idol Seungcheol x reader

Warnings: sad cheoli but just briefly, insecurities.

- Yuin’s note: WAKE UP BBY GURL Yuin is no longer under shadowban! So I celebrate this with a drabble I was gatekeeping. This idea came to me after all the problem antis caused with that Cheol fancam on Thunder. One of his best fancam imo, he didn't deserve nothing of what happened :(

After a quiet and somewhat uncomfortable dinner, Seungcheol remained leaning against the kitchen counter with his phone in hand. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye while you washed the dishes; at first you didn’t say anything, but you could tell by his face that something was wrong.

You remained silent about it, maybe he would feel like talking if you give him space. Then, the kitchen was clean and tidy, and you decided it was time to break the ice.

 “Cheol, is everything okay?” you asked suddenly, “you’ve been looking at your phone with the same face for ten minutes.”

“What face?” he asked, oblivious to your question.

“That worried face.”

Seungcheol put his phone aside and lowered his gaze, his arms crossed with little or no intention of talking. You approached him to place your hand in his hair, and your fingers ran through a few strands. That wasn’t solving his problems but at least the tension in the air seemed to ease a little.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean to worry you…”

“I’m fine,” your calm words seemed to have an effect, and you could see his arms relaxing just a little, “but what about you?”

Seungcheol lifted his face, a little shy, giving a half-smile. “You'll laugh at me when I tell you.”

“Why do you think I’d laugh?” you took his face in both of your hands, thumbs gently caressing his warm cheeks, “you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

“I know, it’s just that…” he sighed, looking you straight in the eyes. His own looked a bit glassy, as if he’d been holding back the urge to cry for a while. Finally, he took a breath and gathered the courage to ask a question. “Y/n, do you think I should lose weight?”

“No,” you twisted your face, maybe a bit too much as Seungcheol chuckled softly, “you’re strong, healthy, and you look really good.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, “but I guess not everyone thinks the same…”

He glanced at his phone and then back at you. That’s when the pieces connected. You wrapped your arms around his torso in a comforting hug and he did the same, pulling you gently closer as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Your hands traced small circles on his back as you stayed together, there wasn’t a single sound except for the TV in the background and a very faint sob. You stayed like that, in that heartfelt embrace, for a few minutes.

“Sorry, y/n,” he murmured, pulling away a little, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, “I must look like a fool for caring about something like this…”

“You’re not a fool, you’re just a person,” moving a little closer to him, you gave him a small kiss right at the corner of his eye, the gesture caught him by surprise and you could see the brightness return to his eyes, and the edge of his lips curve up a little. “And you don’t deserve to be sad about something like this.”

“At least you care about that…”

You scoffed, making a little joke. “They’re jealous, because they can’t be as fine as you are.”

Seungcheol stifled his laughter, covering his mouth with a hand, though it was too obvious how shy he felt at that moment. Maybe he’d never get used to your compliments, but he didn’t seem to mind them either.

“Besides,” you added, squeezing his cheeks lightly between your hands, his face looked too adorable not to, “we all love you just the way you are, your family, your friends… And me.”

You leaned in a little and gave him a small kiss on the forehead, standing on tiptoe to do it. He’d never say it out loud, but he really liked that little gesture, though his blushing face and eyes full of love spoke for themselves.

Seungcheol sighed deeply. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he took your hands in his, and left a kiss on your knuckles, “come on, let’s find some dessert and watch a movie.”

[kmgkmg]

LOVEYDOVEYSHI - 05. PARTY PREP

prev┊ masterlist ┊ next

You tap your foot impatiently against the apartment floor while looking at your watch again, “Chan, we had to be out of here like four minutes ago.”

Your roommate comes out of the bathroom while haphazardly throwing a hoodie on. “Can’t you just drive faster to their place?” 

“And you want to pay for my speeding ticket?”

He nods, understanding the naivety behind his comment. “No…”

“You have to ask for Seungkwan’s forgiveness, not me,” you shrug, grabbing water bottles filled with ice and water for the two of you. 

“Think he’ll understand if I give him Jeonghan’s number?”

You turn around, looking amused at your friend’s solution as he sits on the floor to put his overly complex shoes on. “And you think Jeonghan will forgive you if you do that?”

“Good point.”

“Have everything?” You check one final time, as he gives you a thumbs up and holds his hand out to take his water bottle. The two of you run out the door, quite literally, as Chan locks the door and you head down to the parking lot. 

Chan plops into the passenger seat, breathless from running down the stairs. 

“Wanna queue any songs?” You offer your friend the aux, before pulling out of your parking spot. 

“You know it.” He starts humming the melody slightly, before playing shoot by no na. 

a/n: seungkwan runs a tight ship! next part will be posted before noon (i say for the nth time).

taglist: @minhui896

(send an ask/reply to a post/dm to be added to the taglist!)

[straw-berrysoju]

Match Found Part 2: Thirst Trap (18+)

He’s the stranger you found on that anonymous sexting app, the one who turned out to be your brother’s best friend. Now he’s out of town for three more days, and you’re too needy to wait. One thirst trap is all it takes for things to spiral again. This time, Kim Mingyu knows exactly who you are, and over one filthy video call, he makes sure you remember who you belong to.

Part 1 : Match Found

Pairing: Mingyu x female reader

Themes: brother’s best friend, mutual pining, sexting, phone sex, video call, dirty talk, soft filth, wet dream confessions, long-distance heat

Warnings : sexually explicit content, mutual masturbation (sexting and video call), orgasm control/edging, praise kink, dom/sub dynamic (soft dom Mingyu), explicit dirty talk, squirting, pillow humping, voyeuristic elements, secret relationship, brother's best friend, NSFW (18+).

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: Explicit / 18+ only

minors dni!

________________________

You didn’t mean to post it for him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

It's just a casual morning shot. A slow morning. No pants. An oversized tee riding up just enough to expose your underboob—hips nearly bare, a panty barely doing its job. The caption? A throwaway.

yns_world

yns_world summer’s getting too hot 👀

Anyone could tell the picture had a purpose.

It was a thirst trap. Obviously.

The moment it goes up, you check if he's seen it.

You open your DMs. Nothing.

Then your phone rings.

Mingyu:

That photo’s gonna fuck me up all day.

Your stomach flips.

You:

Should I take it down?

Mingyu:

I’ll take you down instead.

You bite your lip, fingers tingling.

Mingyu:

I’ve been hard since I saw it.

That shirt barely covers anything, baby.

You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?

Your breath catches.

You type, then pause. Delete. Type again.

You:

Maybe. Maybe I was thinking about you when I posted it.

The reply is instant.

Mingyu:

That photo’s driving me insane.

I can’t stop picturing you pressing your thighs together like you always do.

Like you’re trying to stay innocent. But you’re not, are you?

You squirm under the blanket, warm all over.

You:

No. I haven’t been since you ruined me the other night.

I keep thinking about your voice. What you said to me.

You pause for a moment before you type again.

You:

Did you think about it too?

Mingyu:

I had a dream about you. Last night.

Woke up with a mess in my boxers and your name in my mouth.

Your thighs clench involuntarily.

You:

What kind of dream?

Mingyu:

The kind I need to describe with my hand on my cock.

You inhale sharply.

You:

Then tell me. Slowly.

You watch the typing bubble appear and disappear a few times. Then—

Mingyu:

You were in my bed. My real bed. Lying on your back, just wearing that same tee. No panties.

Your legs were spread. Your fingers in your mouth, moaning like you knew I was watching you.

I got on my knees. Crawled up the bed. Pulled your thighs open even wider.

You were soaked. Dripping onto the sheets. And I just watched you for a second.

Because fuck, you looked like a dream. My dream.

Your breathing stutters. You squeeze your thighs together, fingers twitching to touch.

You:

I’m wet just reading this.

Mingyu:

Good. Because that’s where it started.

I touched you. Light at first. Just my fingers teasing your pussy until you were whimpering.

You kept begging. Begging me to eat you out.

So I did. Tongue flat against you. Slow, wet licks.

I didn’t stop until you were grinding against my face like a desperate little thing.

You can't stop yourself now, your hand slips under the blanket, into your panties. You’re already soaked. His words go straight to your core.

You:

Mingyu…

Mingyu:

Say it again.

You:

Mingyu. Please. Call me. I want to hear you.

Mingyu:

Video?

You:

Yes.

Your heart pounds as your phone starts ringing. The moment you answer the video call, he groans

“Fuck, Y/N…”

Your camera is angled just above your breasts, your oversized tee hanging loose over bare thighs. No bra. No panties. And your face — soft, flushed, framed in loose strands of hair — says everything.

“You look like something out of a wet dream,” he mutters, voice low, already hoarse. “Which is fucked because that’s exactly what you were last night.”

Your breath catches. “You really dreamed about me?”

Mingyu shifts the camera so you can see his face, slightly shadowed by the warm light of the hotel lamp. His dark hair’s messy, lips parted, chest bare. He’s lying in bed shirtless, heavy breaths pushing out of his lungs like he’s already halfway gone.

“I did,” he admits. “And I woke up fucking leaking because of it. You wanna hear what happened?”

Your legs squeeze together under the blanket. “Tell me.”

He smirks — slow and dangerous. “Then listen closely, baby.”

He adjusts the phone to prop it against his thigh. The camera now captures more: a low dip of abs and the edge of a comforter tented over something unmistakably hard.

“You were in my bed,” he begins, voice husky and deliberate. “Wearing nothing but that same fucking tee I saw in your photo. God, you looked innocent. But your thighs were spread. You were touching yourself. Just two fingers — slowly, lazily — right in front of me like it was the most normal thing in the world.”

You whimper quietly, the picture painted too vividly. Your hand slips beneath your shirt, brushing the top of your bare slit.

“You had your fingers in your mouth, sucking on them,” he continues, eyes on the screen as if he can see what you're doing, “like you couldn’t wait for it to be my tongue instead. So I got on my knees. Crawled between your legs. And you were so fucking wet, baby—soaked. You had no idea what you were doing to me.”

You whisper his name like a sin. “Mingyu…”

“God, say it again,” he groans. “My name sounds so good from your mouth.”

“Mingyu,” you whisper again, letting your fingers finally slide down and part your folds, already drenched. “I’m so wet…”

He licks his lips. “Show me.”

You angle the camera down — not enough to reveal everything, but enough to give him a peek at the way your thighs twitch under your shirt, your hand buried between them.

“Fuck,” he hisses, running his hand down his abs. “Touch your clit for me. Rub it nice and slow. Just like you did last time, baby.”

You do. Circling gently. Your breath quickens.

“I want you to edge for me,” he says, voice dark. “Don’t cum. Not until I say.”

You whimper.

“I mean it.” His eyes are sharp. “You’re gonna be a good girl and hold it for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Mingyu…”

He rewards you with a soft groan. “That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your whole body throb. You slide your fingers faster, hips rolling slightly, head falling back against the pillow.

“And in my dream,” he breathes, “you begged for my mouth. Kept whispering please, Mingyu, please, just a little taste, like I wasn’t already fucking dying for it.”

Your fingers twitch.

“So I gave in,” he growls. “And baby, you squirted on my tongue.”

Your whole body jerks.

“What—?”

“You heard me,” he says, eyes blazing. “You fucking drenched me. I didn’t stop licking until I was dripping in it.”

Your hand moves faster, too fast—

“Stop.”

You freeze.

“I said not yet,” Mingyu says, voice sharp but warm. “You don’t get to cum just because you’re desperate. You wait for me.”

You whimper, thighs shaking. “I can’t—Mingyu—please—”

“God, you sound so pretty when you beg,” he pants. “Don’t stop rubbing. Just slow. Keep edging yourself, baby. I want to watch your pussy throb with pleasure”

Your head is spinning. The ache between your legs is unbearable.

He shifts the camera now, finally showing you his cock.

It’s thick — painfully so — flushed at the tip, leaking and twitching in his grip.

“See this?” he pants. “This is what’s waiting for you in three days. You think you can take it?”

You moan. “I want to try. I want to feel how deep you can go.”

“Oh, baby.” He strokes himself slowly. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Your hips buck instinctively.

“Don’t you dare cum.”

You cry out softly. “Please. I need it.”

“Then be a good girl and earn it,” he growls. “Show me everything. Pull that shirt up.”

With trembling fingers, you do — dragging the hem up over your stomach and breasts, revealing flushed, sensitive skin and stiff nipples to the screen. Your camera is now angled between your thighs, glistening with arousal, your fingers moving in steady, desperate circles.

Mingyu moans low and filthy. “Jesus fucking Christ. Look at you.”

“Please, Mingyu—please, I’m so close—”

He leans closer to the screen. “You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“You wanna make a mess for me?”

“Please.”

“Then give it to me.”

Your hand speeds up instantly. The pressure has been unbearable — holding it in, denied again and again. And now that he’s given you permission—

It hits like a tidal wave.

You scream his name as you cum, thighs clenching, legs shaking, and—

Your release gushes out unexpectedly, soaking your fingers, dripping onto your sheets.

You’re squirting.

“Oh my—fuck—” Mingyu curses, his hand moving furiously now. “Did you just—?”

You nod, moaning through the aftermath.

“Fucking hell, baby. You just made a mess for me, didn’t you?”

You blink through the haze. “Mingyu—cum for me—please—”

He groans, face tightening, hips lifting slightly. “I’m gonna, fuck—I’m gonna—”

His body tenses, then shudders. He spills across his abs and chest, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.

The screen goes quiet again. Just breathing. Just heat.

Then—

“That was,” he pants, “the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You laugh softly, still trembling. “Same.”

He smiles lazily, eyes soft now.

“Three more days,” he says. “And then I’m going to make you squirt on my cock.”

Your chest is still rising and falling when the silence returns.

He’s watching you. You know it by the way his tongue rests against his bottom lip. The way his hand never left his cock.

You’d just squirted for him. You’re still trembling, fingers soaked, thighs slick and sticky with your own release. But he’s not done.

He shifts the phone to prop it again, angling it lower so you see everything — the flex of his abs, the taut grip around his still-rock-hard cock, glistening at the tip with precum. His stomach’s a mess of cum from the first round, but he didn’t even slow down.

“You’re still hard,” you whisper.

He grins, breathless. “You didn’t think one orgasm was gonna be enough after what you just did, did you?”

You squirm, lips parting when he drags his thumb over the slit. “Still so full. You wrecked me, Mingyu.”

“Let me do it again.”

His voice drops, gravel and lust and promise.

“I’m not done with you, baby. Not even close.”

You don’t move. Just lie there, shirt still bunched up under your tits, thighs parted, cunt messy and soaked. Your fingers twitch.

“Touch yourself for me again,” he says, quieter now, but firmer. “Nice and slow.”

You start to move, and then—

“No. Wait. Let me talk to you first.”

“I need you to listen to exactly what I’m going to do when I get back.”

You nod, mouth dry.

He shifts slightly in bed, his tone thick with hunger. “I’m going to come over late. While your brother’s asleep. And you’re going to sneak me into your room like a filthy little secret.”

“Mingyu—” you whisper, breath catching.

“Shh. Just listen.”

His eyes are on you, heavy and possessive. You feel like you’re being touched through the screen.

Your fingers falter, and you tug the shirt higher over your belly, revealing your bare thighs, flushed and glistening with your wetness. You’re helpless, exposed. And he loves it.

“You’ll be in your bed,” he continues, voice heavy, “wearing nothing but that loose shirt you keep pulling up. No panties, just like now. Legs spread wide, waiting.”

Your pulse hammers in your ears, your body already aching for his touch. You want it. Need it. The ache pools hot and heavy between your legs, every nerve ending on fire.

He leans forward slightly, voice dropping to a whisper.

“I’ll press just the tip of my cock against your slick folds… slow, deliberate… teasing.”

He’s stroking himself slow now, long full pumps that make your thighs press together unconsciously

Your hips twitch involuntarily. You can already feel the thought — thick, swollen, too big — pressing into your soaked heat.

“You’ll whine,” he murmurs, “try to take me in. Begging to be filled.”

You bite your lip, your fingers dipping lower, dragging teasing circles over your throbbing clit.

“But I won’t give it to you right away,” he says, voice rough and low. “Not yet.”

You swallow hard, pulse racing.

“You’ll grind against the sheets… or maybe your pillow…”

His voice thickens with lust, eyes locked on you, watching your every move.

You can’t stop yourself.

You reach for the pillow lying next to you.

Your hips lift instinctively, pressing your soaked cunt down against the soft fabric. Your fingers clutch the edges as you start to grind — slow circles at first, hips rocking gently against the warmth.

His breath hitches.

“That’s it,” he groans, “just like that. Fuck, you’re such a desperate little thing for me.”

Your grinding grows faster, hips pushing harder, fingers clawing into the pillowcase.

You’re whining softly, muffled by the fabric, your chest rising and falling faster, heart pounding as you chase the ache spiraling out of control.

Mingyu’s hand moves faster now, tight around his cock, slick with precum and cum.

“I want to bury myself deep inside you,” he growls. “Stretch you wide, make you scream.”

You bite your lip, hips rocking harder, grinding so hard you can feel the heat building unbearably in your core.

“I’ll hold you down by your hips,” he breathes, “slow, deep thrusts that fill you completely. You’ll try to take all of me, but I’ll make you beg for more.”

You moan into the pillow, fingers clutching, hips humping desperately.

“Please, Mingyu…” you whisper, voice raw.

He groans deep in his throat, voice heavy and rough. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”

His thumb drags teasingly over the head of his cock, slick and flushed.

“You’re going to squirt all over my cock when I finally make you cum. I want to see you soaked, dripping, begging for release.”

Your hips buck against the pillow, grinding harder, body trembling as the ache tightens into unbearable pressure.

“Keep going,” he commands, eyes dark and possessive.

You move faster, fingers curling into the pillowcase, mouth open in a ragged gasp.

Mingyu’s gaze is glued to the screen, dark eyes heavy with lust.

“That’s it, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

You moan, pillow muffling the sound as you hump harder, fingers clutching the sheets.

“God, you’re such a fucking tease.” His hand moves faster over his cock. “I want to bury myself so deep inside you you can’t even see straight.”

Your head falls back. You’re shaking, soaked, desperate.

“I’ll hold you down by the hips,” he growls, voice thick. “Slow, deep thrusts that stretch you wide. So fucking full. You’ll cry because you need to cum but I won’t let you.”

Your body shudders violently.

You cry out, trembling. “Please, Mingyu…”

His breath catches.

“And when I fuck you so hard you squirt, it’s going to be on my cock.”

You’re overwhelmed — grinding, humping, utterly wrecked but aching for more.

“Keep going,” he commands. “Let me hear you beg.”

Your lips part.

“I’m yours. Fuck me. Ruin me. I’m yours.”

Mingyu groans loud and messy, jerking his cock with desperate speed.

You hump harder, hips lifting, fingers tightening as the tension breaks—

The camera shakes as you hit another shuddering orgasm, thighs trembling, pillow muffling your cries, the hot rush bursting through you as thick wetness gushes out, soaking the pillow, your thighs, your hands.

Mingyu’s breath catches, groaning loud and raw.

“You’re such a filthy, perfect little mess,” he pants, hand flying faster. “Fuck, baby, I’m close too.”

His hips jerk hard, eyes squeezed shut, and he spills thick ropes across his stomach and chest.

Panting, he leans back, eyes burning.

“You need new sheets,” he rasps. “Because when I get there, I’m going to make you mess everything.”

You laugh softly, breathless, completely wrecked.

“And I’m going to make sure you never forget who owns you.”

________________________

Author's Note: Back on popular demand finallyyyy!!! Hope y'all like it. Took me a while to upload this part(I might've forgotten to schedule the post oops) but it's finally here yayy! I love love love when you all interact with the posts. I absolutely love to read your comments and reblogs but I don't know what to respond I'm so sorry 😭 I tried to tag everyone who commented on the first part of this fic and requested for a part 2 and also some of y'all who reblogged.

If you wanna be added to the taglist of my future posts then please leave a comment on this post

Taglist : @ni-aaaaaaa @shegotheruby @woncheollies @cheolscherries1812 @cherrylovescheol @kpoluvr990 @sigxx123 @caratcak3 @karynnoona @astyeka @assoulacaratassil @coupsiebojogae @shadowfaxribbit @woncheollies @chiefjunlover @kwonxy@jinostooth @pkjmlm @cafeartemesia @rynxalovusyou @janesfics @michi-0o0 @urfavcherrybomb

[goldenhourology]

SAVE THE DATE.

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst, frenemies to lovers

summary: 5 weddings in one year. 5 dates you saved for you and your boyfriend to attend — before he cheated. and now, you had to force your best friend, vernon, to go with you. but after losing a bet, mingyu agrees to take vernon’s place and be your date. this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go, but you guess you could settle going with your only one-night-stand from college.

warnings: oral (f!recieving), fingering, 69ing, unprotected sex, reader on top, praise, mingyu has boyfriend dick<3, sub-ish!mingyu, also power bottom!mingyu 👍, multiple sex scenes, marijuana smoking/shotgunning, marijuana-induced horniness lol, one bed trope, forced proximity, miscommunication, HEAVY mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).

word count: 19.9k

note: first things first, APOLOGIESSSSS for this taking so long. I've had a lot going on (which I know just about everyone says) and I was lowkey struggling to write this, even tho I was so amped for it. nevertheless, I'm so glad I was able to focus and finish it, because I care so much for these two and I desperately wanted to share their story with you 💓 per usual, please expect angst with your smut, and if you cry, I will not judge you and honestly would love to hear it lol. enjoy friends! (taglist posted at the bottom.)

in rotation: bmf, sza / mona lisa, mxmtoon / gorgeous, taylor swift / moonstruck, enhypen / finally // beautiful stranger, halsey

Your mom had told you that the friends you make in your first year of college stay with you for life, but you didn’t expect that when you met Vernon. He had been shy, refusing to speak to anyone in your orientation group, but knowing glances turned into sitting next to each other, which then had you both whispering jokes back and forth, until finally, he told you his name. Hansol Chwe to be exact, but he insisted on “just Vernon.” By the second semester of freshman year, you both had become inseparable. He was your best friend, been with you through some of the toughest moments of your adult life, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Vernon’s friendship survived through many of your boyfriends, and you knew he’d outlast many more. He experienced some of the worst ones – a.k.a. the men who refused to believe you two were just friends – and also the boring ones – the one guy who used you to get to him. But none of them had pissed him off more than your most current breakup: the man who was three years your senior and cheated on you with a 22-year-old. You assumed by age 27, you’d know how to pick ‘em, but that was clearly wrong.

Now you were left to your own devices with five weddings to attend this year. In retrospect, maybe there was a few you could’ve skipped, but you hated saying no in situations like this. You had agreed to go to all of them with your now ex-boyfriend in mind, placing a 2 on the invite’s attending line. Per usual, Vernon had stepped up and begrudgingly offered himself to be your date.

So why were you now meeting up with Kim Mingyu to discuss the dates of said five weddings?

You first met Mingyu when Vernon joined a fraternity in sophomore year to make more friends. “I can’t just have you. I need to have at least some friends that are dudes,” he said, which made you reply, “That’s the toxic masculinity talking.” And boy, had Mingyu been the epitome of that statement. Him and Vernon had connected instantly, sharing the same major and an affinity for art girls. You had never really gotten along with him like Vernon had hoped, but he was … attractive, to say the least.

Okay, maybe you had a crush on him. You had eyes.

But it was college and you both were on the cusp of 20. It was so hard to confess feelings back then, especially to someone like Kim Mingyu. Who you didn’t particularly enjoy talking to in the first place. However … he was probably one of the hottest men you’d ever seen; made in a lab for every young girl’s fantasy. Sometimes you couldn’t help but just stare at him, admiring his perfect teeth or the way his honey-gold skin shined in the afternoon sunlight. (You thanked your lucky stars that Vernon joined the college football team alongside Mingyu, just so you could  secretly ogle him during practice.)

Suffice to say, you did eventually hook up. In the most cliche way possible, you had both gotten a little too tipsy at the first frat party of senior year and wound up in Mingyu’s dorm, locking out his roommate for the entire night. It almost felt weird, realizing your attraction had been reciprocated, but he hardly said a word to you come morning. In fact, he never mentioned it again, period, choosing to avoid you except in group settings with Vernon. You weren’t a fool; you were quick to realize it meant nothing to him, just another notch on his bedpost.

Mingyu was every girl’s dream, but Mingyu was also uncommitted.

And he was walking towards you right now.

You looked up from your phone after stalking – looking through Mingyu’s Instagram. You never followed him, never checked in on him after graduation, but you knew how close he still was with Vernon. He even posted a picture with him recently. You rolled your eyes. Despite his long hair, you recognized Mingyu instantly as he went up to the barista and ordered a coffee. You studied him for a moment, noticing that there was a curl to his hair and the way those dark stands hung around his eyes. His skin was as perfect as ever and – goddamn, did he get bigger? He was wearing a jacket over his t-shirt and you could still tell how big his muscles were.

When he finally looked over his shoulder and your eyes connected, his face remained unchanged, if not a little awkward. He walked up to you, rubbing at the back of his neck, and said your name as if it were a question. “Yeah. Hi, Mingyu,” you replied with a wave. “It’s been a while.”

“Five years since graduation,” he added, pulling out the chair across from you and plopping down. “So you stopped putting those blonde highlights in your hair?”

Your eye twitched. Before you could spit out a response, a cute, dark-haired barista came over and set a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, completely ignoring that your own was practically empty. Mingyu flashed her a smile, showing off his pretty canines as she walked away. You frowned.

Vernon had told you last night that Mingyu wasn’t the same guy you knew in college, but you begged to differ.

Turning back to you, he took a sip from his mug and asked, “Why did you want to meet up again?”

“Because my best friend is an asshole and you lost a bet.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” He nodded.

You almost didn’t believe Vernon when he told you. You knew he didn’t exactly want to be your date to all these weddings and probably felt like he had to, but he did offer so you didn’t think much of it. Until he told you last week that he put all his guest invites on the line while playing a drinking game with Mingyu, which the latter lost. So now Kim Mingyu, your college one-night-stand that was scared of commitment, was committing to being your date to several weddings this year.

Kill me now, you thought.

“I thought drinking games and making silly bets like this didn’t happen once your frontal lobe formed,” you said, and his dark eyes flickered up to yours.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he cleared his throat and set the mug down again. “Men never really grow up.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back in your chair. “Apparently,” you muttered under your breath. “How do you have the time to actually commit to this? Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?”

“One,” he held up a single finger, “I take bets very seriously and I’m not a sore loser. It’s only removing five weekends out of the year for me. No biggie. And two,” he lifted another finger, “No.”

You raised a brow. “Well, I guess that answers all my questions.”

Mingyu stared at you for a moment, running those two fingers over his bottom lip. You suddenly had a flashback to that night, remembering his hands all over you, remembering his fingers plunging inside and curling –

Not the time.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend? Why put down two people on these RSVPs you sent back and then force just anybody to be your date?” He fought the urge to smile, trying to dig a little deeper into you. You weren’t falling for it this time. “I love the guy, but I know Vernon wasn’t your first choice to accompany you.”

“My ex and I broke up,” you replied. “Not much to it.”

Intrigued, he sipped his coffee again. “Why?”

“It’s none of your business, Mingyu.”

“Well, as your new date –”

“Drop it,” you said, voice taking on a new tone. “I’m serious.”

Mingyu raised his hand in surrender, and you shook off your anger. This was supposed to be a friendly, quick conversation, but it was seemingly moving off the rails. A sigh escaped your mouth before you asked, “So you said this is only taking five weekends out of the year. What do you do with your time? Are you working?”

“I thought I answered all your questions.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He chuckled softly, exposing those canines once again. His smile was so … ugh, you needed to stop getting distracted. “I work at a restaurant four days a week as a cook, and then teach flag football at a rec facility the rest of the time. I’ve been trying to save up to open my own restaurant for years, but I got the time to be a makeshift wedding date.”

You knew Mingyu had always loved to cook – you remembered when he’d been the resident chef at the fraternity – but to hear he was still passionate almost … melted you a little. Almost. You were dedicated to not being too swayed by Mingyu’s pretty words. This was a deal and that was the end of it.

“I see,” you nodded, uncrossing your arms to play with the handle of your still empty mug. “I’ve been working at the same marketing agency since college. Pays the bills, you know?”

Mingyu gave you a knowing look before running a hand through the long strands. “Always so committed.”

Your lips pursed. “One of us has to be.”

“Speaking of commitment,” he said without missing a beat, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “What are the dates for those weddings again?”

Save the Date for the wedding of Choi Seungcheol and Holland Levine: February 28th

It was a rainy Sunday in February. Your coworker, Choi Seungcheol, was getting married today at a local venue on the outskirts. His girlfriend, Holland – otherwise known as, Hinge Holland, when he met her on the dating app 3 years ago – was a little kooky and asked for them to be eloped that morning. Seungcheol was too in love to say no; he’d do anything she asked. They were married early morning, and lucky for you and Mingyu, all you had to attend was a reception. It was a nice way to test the waters of this deal before anything got too crazy. 

Mingyu had picked you up in his truck, and together struggled to help lift you inside with your dress and heels on. As he drove away from the city and into a more rural area, he commented, “Your coworker must be real whipped to agree to a reception here.”

“What are you talking about?” You looked through your phone for the address Seungcheol had sent you months ago. “I thought the reception was at some small venue.”

Mingyu said your name, and you glanced over, seeing the smile on his face. “It’s a VFW owned by someone in his girlfriend’s family.”

You realized just how right he was when he pulled up to a spot in a VFW parking lot, seeing a crowd of Holland’s family pour into the post. You knew what the inside of a VFW looked like; you had your sweet 16 at one. But going to a wedding reception at one was a whole different story. Were the walls so old that they’d crumble once the DJ dared to play Dancing Queen?

Rain pounded from the sky, making the cold February wind even more chilly. Mingyu rounded the truck and opened your door, making sure to hold an umbrella above your head as you slid out of the seat. He looked … okay, he looked extremely handsome in his suit, tailored exactly to his body. You were in an old, off-the-shoulder black dress with mesh sleeves that were doing nothing in this wet cold. This wedding had crept up on you, and before you knew it, you remembered you didn’t have any new dresses to wear. And while it looked nice, the dress just barely zipped and you had to keep pulling up the neckline. Clearly, you had grown a bit since the last time you worn this. Probably in college.

Mingyu was staring at you now, letting his eyes wander down, and you were yanking at the neckline again. He didn’t deserve to see more of your cleavage. He whispered, “You look …”

“Just come on,” you cut him off, tugging him in the direction of the VFW. He struggled to keep up for a moment, rushing to hold the umbrella above both of you. 

As soon as you both walked inside, you realized just how dressed up you were compared to the place. The building looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1990s. There was, at least, a huge buffet-style food setup in the corner and a man so old that he probably had one foot in the grave behind the bar. A sign in front of him said, OPEN BAR, written in thick sharpie. Various family members were congregating at tables, while the DJ – who looked like a Pitbull impersonator – was setting up at the head of the room. 

Seungcheol ran over the second he saw you meandering through tables. He had the biggest smile on his face, tugging his new wife over to introduce her to you before wiggling his eyebrows at you when he noticed Mingyu on your arm. Even Holland couldn’t help but ogle him. Seungcheol was one of your closest coworkers, so it wasn’t weird when he asked, “Who’s the beefcake?”

Mingyu was too busy dealing with Holland’s questions to hear you reply, “Don’t ask. I’ve cycled through many options before I was forced to bring him.”

“I’m sure it was quite difficult for you,” he snorted, before carefully pulling his wife’s hand off of Mingyu’s and introducing himself. Not long after, he was ushering her away to start making speeches. 

You and Mingyu found your seat quickly, and luckily enough, you were sat with most of your coworkers. Every single one was looking at Mingyu like he was a piece of meat, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had a friendly conversation with each of them. You struggled to not roll your eyes. How was he perfect with everyone? Maybe your dislike of him was irrational and unwarranted, maybe he did change. But … ugh, could he fuck up for once?

Your coworker, Minghao, sat to your left, watching Mingyu converse with the young assistant – Amelia, right? – who was very clearly batting her eyes at him. Leaning towards you, Minghao whispered, “I thought you were bringing Vernon?”

Minghao was one of the few people you told about your breakup, as well as Vernon and of course, your girlfriends. It wasn’t like you to go around everywhere and post on social media about your breakup; it wasn’t anyone’s business. But Minghao gave great advice, and he was one of the first people that helped you get over the heartbreak. He wasn’t just a coworker. He became a trusted friend.

Turning your head, you said, “Would you believe me if I told you that he lost a bet?”

“Considering who you ended up with,” he chuckled, “I’d say it’s a win in your favor.”

“He’s not that great.”

“Then you might want to pull Amelia off of him before she starts sucking his face.”

The reception ended at an early hour thankfully. Most of the elderly guests were falling asleep anyway. Mingyu was a class act, per usual, trying to get you up and out of your seat to dance with him, but the last thing you wanted to do was dance to Toxic by Britney Spears in front of your boss at the marketing agency. Instead, he took the lead to asking Seungcheol’s mom to dance, and made Amelia’s day when he asked her to join. Minghao only continued to laugh when you rejected each of Mingyu’s advances.

Once 10 PM rolled around and you both were exiting the doors of the aging VFW, you noticed the rain hadn’t let up. In fact, it seemed to have gotten even worst. You had to run to Mingyu’s truck with him holding the umbrella above both of you and almost trip over your dress as you hopped up inside the cab. Assuming it would be fine to drive, just a few minutes in the rain left you both realizing that it might be extremely unsafe to drive back to the city in this weather. You really couldn’t argue with Mingyu when he suggested you stay the night at a motel right down the road. 

The woman behind the front desk at the motel was chewing so loud that you thought the wad of bubblegum between her teeth might be larger than your palm. She informed you both that the only rooms available were ones with a single queen-sized bed. As much as you desperately wanted two, you’d take what you could get. She started grabbing both of your informations to check in when a loud bolt of lightning cracked, followed by a crash of thunder. You instantly gripped Mingyu’s arm, and he paused signing his name to look down at you.

“Are you scared of thunder?” He asked playfully.

Realizing how tight you were holding on, you quickly removed your hand. “No, I’m … it’s fine.”

His bicep felt so much harder than anticipated. All muscle. 

Stop that.

The front desk attendant gave you an actual metal key to open your room, the number dangling from a kitschy pendant. This was the kind of motel where you needed to venture outside to get to your room, and with your arms locked together, Mingyu led you both through the pouring rain to the right building. He shoved the key in the lock, immediately opening the door and allowing you to walk inside first.

The room was smaller than expected. The heat was hardly circulating and you were still shivering. A queen-sized bed was situated in front of an old RCA TV, decorated with a comforter that looked strangely similar to the one from the 80s that your mom had given you when you first moved out. The room smelled like bleach and all you could hear was the rain on the roof. Noticing you shiver, Mingyu walked over to the thermostat and adjusted the heat.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, hugging your arms around yourself.

Mingyu pointed to the large window by the door. “I can’t drive in that. It takes an hour to get back to the city and I can hardly see the road.”

“Okay, well –”

Lightning struck again, painting the window white, and you jumped. Mingyu shook his head and walked over, closing the shades over the glass. He looked down at you, and you were acutely aware that he was the kind of person who could say everything just with his eyes. “Better?” He asked, a smile playing at his pink lips.

He was so close that you could smell his cologne and – god dammit, you were such a sucker for men that smelled good. He smelled like violets mixed with smokey sandalwood, spicy and musky. Whatever you were going to quip back died on your tongue, leaving you to reply, “I can’t sleep in my dress. I have nothing to wear to bed.”

Walking over to the tiny closet, Mingyu spotted a robe hanging up next to the vintage ironing board. He placed it in your arms and remarked, “Take a shower and put this on.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

He laughed. “No, you’re shivering and it’ll help warm you up.”

You nodded, heading off to the bathroom and shutting the door. As you slipped off your dress and let it pool onto the tile, you realized how antagonizing you were being for no reason. Mingyu had been nothing but nice to you, but you were suspecting him to switch-up at any moment. Maybe Vernon was right, or maybe you just needed to take a chill pill.

Mingyu was helping you out, after all.

After taking the warmest shower of your life and probably using all of the hot water in the motel, you walked out into the room with your robe tied firmly around your waist. The cotton smelled like mothballs and you hardly left an inch of skin showing. Granted you weren’t naked underneath, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your underwear. Again. After five years. 

He was wearing only a tank top and boxers while setting up a makeshift bed on the floor. You struggled to maintain focus with him looking … well, like that, and eventually spoke up, “What are you doing?”

He hardly jumped at hearing your voice. “I figured it would just be easier if I slept on the floor. Trust me, I’ve slept in far worse places.”

“Mingyu, you don’t have to do that,” you sighed, pulling back the covers and tossing the mismatching throw pillows on the floor. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

“I know, but it’s just –”

Thunder clashed outside, sounding like pots and pans clanging together, rattling your bones.

Your eyes connected with Mingyu’s, and you pointed to the empty side of the bed. “Sleep in this bed right now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You both agreed – more like, you told Mingyu and he listened – to place a wall of pillows between you two, leaving you on the edges of the bed. You curled up into yourself, your spine facing him, as Mingyu laid on his back and pinched the bridge of his nose. The rain was so loud. The thunder was deafening. You considered plugging your fingers in your ears as you slept.

Mingyu was shifting on the small sliver of mattress he had, wishing internally that he brought a joint or two with him. This bed was so uncomfortable that he probably wouldn’t sleep. But hopefully, you would. Although that was seeming highly unlikely from the way your back tensed with every boom of thunder.

He watched you from the corner of his eye, and eventually, you did stop shaking. Soft snores filled the room, replacing the sound of the rain. And then Mingyu felt himself relax, swiftly falling asleep with his arm thrown above his head.

Despite the pillow wall you built, you woke up with your head on his chest.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked that day, but he couldn’t find the courage to finish his sentence.

Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Chan and Adrianna Olson: April 4th

Tapping your freshly manicured nails on your bare arm, you leaned against the passenger side door of your car and huffed. You uncrossed your arms, beginning to pace outside Mingyu’s apartment building. The ceremony today started in two hours and you were about ninety minutes from the venue. Not to mention, there was only a matter of time before one of his neighbors showed up, forcibly removing you from the parking spot in front of the building you definitely did not live in. What the hell was Mingyu doing anyway? He said he’d be down ten minutes ago. 

You tugged off your heels, realizing they’d be a bitch to drive in, and pulled your sneakers from the back seat. Your floral, strapless sundress blew in the Spring breeze. Your curls – that looked like they could’ve been done by a toddler – whisked off your bare shoulders as you stepped into your favorite Nikes. 

“Sorry.”

Popping your head up, you halted while shoving the back door closed. You blinked, assuming your eyes were deceiving you, but there he was, sprinting down the front steps of his building with freshly chopped hair.

Mingyu was quickly walking over to shove his duffle in your backseat, pulling at his tie, when you leaned in and placed your hand on his head. Yep, that was his real hair. Those long locks that had reached his chin were gone, replaced by a hairstyle that was similar to how he looked in college. 

“I know we’re running late,” he apologized, letting your fingers sink into the strands for a moment, “but do you have to –”

“This is not about that.” You removed your hand, leveling a look at him. “You cut your hair.”

Mingyu raised a brow. “It was getting long.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Why didn’t you warn me of your new look?”

“I didn’t think I had to?” He shrugged, genuinely confused as to why you were questioning him. “My hair had gotten even longer since February, so I just thought I’d freshen up for you –”

You completely missed his words – for you, he’d freshened up for you – because you were already interrupting him. “Well, it’s just – it might look weird in pictures because my hair is up and your hair is so short. And I’m already going to have so many people looking at us wondering why my ex, who’s name I put on the invite, isn’t here. And I just want to eliminate as much attention as possible. And, well – and –”

Mingyu placed both hands on your shoulders. His palms were large, practically burning into your exposed skin. “Are you overthinking?”

“No, I …”

When your voice trailed off, Mingyu hesitated for a moment longer and then slid his hands off. “Vernon told me that you dated the groom. Chan, right?”

Of-fucking-course, Vernon told him. Your lips pursed before you replied, “We were friends before that, and we only dated for like a couple months in college. I introduced him to the woman he’s marrying.”

“Then why are you so nervous?”

“I think I have a lot of reasons to be nervous these days.” You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to come up with another quippy remark, but it seemed he contested and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit. The same tailored suit he wore to the wedding in February, a few loose threads at the seams. “Let’s get going. We’ll be in the car for a while,” you said, rounding your car and hopping inside the driver’s seat.

As Mingyu dealt with finding room for his duffle in your trunk, you took this small second to text Vernon.

You: your friend is infuriating

You: also I’m never going to forgive you for telling him that I dated chan

Vernon: you’ll get over it lol

Vernon: is that the only reason why he’s infuriating?

You: HAIRCUT

Vernon: oh I probably should’ve told you about that when I saw him last week

Vernon: sorry :/

You closed your texts when Mingyu hopped in the passenger seat, turning on your music to drown out your thoughts. The drive was long and you were lucky that you got to the venue with ten minutes to spare. You parked the car in a haste, running to your back seat and quickly tugging your heels back on. You chucked your sneakers onto the car floor, almost hitting Mingyu in the face when he went to grab his phone from the same area. Locking your car, you grabbed his arm and yanked, both of you running towards the venue attached to a pretty hotel. Mingyu, even with his long legs, was struggling to keep up. He was also slightly impressed that you could run so fast in heels, and that was definitely the only reason why he was staring at your legs. He wasn’t admiring how long they looked when the wind lifted your skirt and he got a flash of your calf.

Even from your seat in the back of the ceremony, you could see Chan’s face light up as Adrianna was escorted down the aisle. She was wearing a vintage wedding dress, the veil sheer enough to see how beautiful she was underneath, and Chan was eager enough to lift it as soon as they said, “I do.” Adrianna looked like she hadn’t aged a day since school, and you could probably say the same for Chan. But he did manage to finally remove the earrings he got six years ago, which made you giggle to yourself.

Mingyu pretended not to notice.

Most of the people at the wedding were old friends from undergrad, even a few Mingyu knew in passing. Every time you were approached, you prepared yourself for the same question: “Where is He Who Will Not Be Named?” Or, for those that actually knew Mingyu: “Since when did you know Gyu?” You weren’t sure how much longer you could fake a smile and laugh, pretend that your heart still wasn’t sore from the breakup, rehash the same words over and over again. It was tiring; you were tired. 

Same explanation. Same heartbreak. You wouldn’t be surprised if the whole planet knew of your breakup by now. You didn’t announce it anywhere, besides telling your family and close friends. It was natural for people to be curious; you had been with your ex for a couple years, enough for your family to assume that he’d propose. But then he cheated, and you found out, and you were left in pieces, tied to Kim Mingyu as your date for a full year of weddings.

You just didn’t want to keep on doing this, explaining yourself ten times over, realizing that everyone was looking at you with interest. Maybe a second glass of champagne would be a good distraction …

“Wanna dance?”

You looked up from the rim of your empty glass. Mingyu had knocked you out of your daze, laying out a hand for you to take. The reception was lively with family and friends mingling on the dance floor, but Mingyu had still noticed you alone at the table, lost in your thoughts. Had he always been this attentive, or was he just prone to watching you?

Ignoring your internal monologue, you took his hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. Just as Mingyu was about to place his hand on your waist, the song changed, switching to a more upbeat track you used to blast in college. You immediately started laughing at all the older folks trying to follow the beat, and then found Chan with his wife, shimmying on the dance floor. Mingyu pinched the bridge of his nose, but found himself beaming when he finally saw the smile grace your features. He didn’t let go of your hand, let you twirl him to the song that took you back to the musty basement of a frat party.

Chan, at some point, had managed to dance over in your direction, bumping into you with a big grin. “I knew all the alumni here would love this,” he shouted over the music. “Do you remember when you puked outside a window once at some party and you said that it was this song that induced it?”

You were surprised when Mingyu said, “Yes,” at the same time as you. Both you and Chan glanced at him, eyebrows raised, until he added, ���That was at one of my parties. I cleaned your vomit off the windowsill!”

The four of you erupted in laughter. Even Adrianna remembered that party, considering that was the night you drunkenly introduced her to Chan. She eventually pulled you away from Mingyu, leading you towards her group of bridesmaids so you all could dance together. But your eyes couldn’t help but find Mingyu’s across the floor, and then he was looking at you, and – god dammit, staring at him felt like a crime you’d consider going to jail for.

Everyone was looking at him, but he was looking at you. 

Actually, Mingyu couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you. Not once.

He stared at you as if it was just you two, as if you were stripped bare before him, just for his eyes to see. You could tell from the way he bit his lip while smiling. He looked at you as if you were naked.

Soon enough, you were slipping through the crowd and by his side once again. He was now leaning against the wall by the open bar, nursing a scotch. The party was winding down; all the older family members had left, leaving Chan and Adrianna – plus a few other young couples – swaying to a classic Ed Sheeran song. It wouldn’t be long until they ended the night with Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. The time war nearing 11 PM. 

Slinking beside him, he offered the glass to you and you took a sip, wincing at the burn. You stuck out your tongue. “How can you drink that so smoothly?”

“Years of practice,” he replied, and then flicked your nose in a way that shouldn’t make you blush. But you definitely did. 

You blinked up at him, admiring how pretty he was in the faint, yellow light. Actually, he was pretty in every light, but you liked to find any excuse to admire him. Even if you denied it.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked then, digging your nails into your palms. So afraid of rejection after all these years, even though he agreed to be here. “I think the reception is going to end soon anyway.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He set his half empty glass on a random table and straightened his back before adding, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

God, you needed to get it together. Those words were the bare minimum, but when he said them in that slightly muffled voice, it made your nails pinch the inside of your hands harder.

You both stood on opposite sides of the elevator, dragging up, up, up to your room on the seventeenth floor. Your eyes connected. A smile played at his lips. An unspoken tension brewing between the two of you. A feeling you didn’t want to be there in the first place, but something you couldn’t simply ignore. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not today. Not tonight. Not ever again.

He opened the door for you, allowing you to slip inside and grab your bag. While he rifled through his duffle, you brought your bag into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. You allowed yourself a moment to just breathe. Maybe if you kept exhaling like this, you would release all the tension from your body. You knew how silly it sounded, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, turning your face from side to side. Was it the makeup that made him look at you that way sometimes? Perhaps he still had a fondness for lipgloss, like he did back in the day.

When you finally stopped studying your appearance, you wiped off your makeup and tugged on a pair of loose pajamas. Wearing these would be so much more comfortable – and less awkward – than the robe you wore after the last wedding. You still had nightmares about that. Carefully tiptoeing out of the bathroom, you expected to find Mingyu already in one of the two  full size beds, scrolling through his phone and ignoring the noise you naturally made. But he was on the deck just outside your room, smoke billowing from his mouth. 

You stood near the unoccupied bed, balancing on the balls of your feet, as you debated your options. A smart person would go right to sleep, leave him to his business. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

Despite the slight warmth to the air, you threw on a hoodie, scared of the possibility of your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. You slid open the door and immediately closed it, preventing any smoke from getting into the room. He didn’t turn; he knew exactly who was behind him. His back muscles flexed underneath his suit jacket, the joint dangling between his lips as he prayed for his lighter to work again.

“You probably shouldn’t be smoking in this suit,” you said, saddling up beside him.

He chuckled, finally taking a long drag. “I promise to get it dry cleaned before our next adventure.”

Before our next adventure. You bit the inside of your cheek.

Your eyes didn’t leave the joint now sitting between two of his fingers. (Jeez, were they always that big?) He let more smoke filter from his lips and into the open air, clouding up the starry night sky. Without even looking at you, he asked, “Why are you staring?” His words hung in the silence for a moment. “Have you ever smoked before?”

You shrugged. “Only once or twice with Vernon. Probably as freshmen.”

“You want me to show you how?”

Blinking at him, all you could do was dumbly nod. Mingyu laughed under his breath, fighting with his lighter again, before eventually holding the flame to the end. He then cautiously passed the joint over to you, allowing the filter to brush your lips. “Take it in your mouth,” he instructed, “now inhale.”

When you did as he asked, you must’ve inhaled far too deeply, or just didn’t exhale at the right time. Because then you were coughing, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, concern etched in his tone, and patted your back as you hacked up what felt like your left lung. His voice was soft, soothing, but you could hardly hear it through the ringing in your ears.

“Yeah,” you sighed, voice hoarse, “I’m definitely out of practice.”

As you stood up, his hand stayed on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing patterns. Your breath stilled as you looked up at him. Playing with the joint between his lips, he said, “Let me show you an easier way.”

“Okay,” you agreed, before your conscious could stop you.

You watched as he took a long pull from the joint, sucking it all in until you could see his eyes get a little pinker, and then moved closer to you. Instinctively, your eyes closed and your lips parted, welcoming the scent of him. His lips only lightly grazed yours as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth, letting it engulf your very being, and you felt yourself start to relax. He craned back, grinning down at you, and it took everything within you to not ask for another hit right then. 

In the moonlight, you could see why you fell hard for Mingyu. He had only gotten more handsome since college. Light, in any form, was so kind to him, but with the stars hanging above his head … it allowed his dark hair to shine, casting a slightly blueish tone to his warm features. You could see the twinkling stars reflecting in his eyes, especially when he leaned back in, expelling more smoke into your mouth.

This felt too intimate. This felt like fucking.

Once you both were so high you could do nothing but laugh, Mingyu stubbed out the joint and you stumbled back into the room. You both were finally going to have a good sleep at one of these, especially since there were two beds. Rolling into your bed, you immediately burrowed under the covers as Mingyu took off his suit in the bathroom.

The last thing you expected was to feel him plop down in your bed. He was wearing so little that it made your thighs press together, or maybe that was just the weed talking. He was disoriented, laying halfway off the edge of your bed, staring at you as if you were the Mona Lisa. You huffed, “Mingyuuu. You need to get in your own bed.”

“Do you really want that though?”

His words made your eyes immediately snap open. A grin was tugging at his mouth again, his teeth sinking into that plush bottom lip. Oh, so also wanted … Oh.

You tried to sound cool and nonchalant, “Considering this is a full size bed, yeah.”

Even in the darkness, even with his back to the moonlight streaming through the glass door – his presence was making you nervous. His eyes weren’t leaving yours. You felt your hand inch over, your pinky curling around his.

“If I can be so honest with you,” he whispered, licking at the corners of his lips, “you are so beautiful that I want to kill any guy that has done you wrong.”

You exhaled, “Mingyu …”

He leaned in, smiling like he knew he caught you in his trap. “Yes?”

You were pretty sure that you knew Kim Mingyu by now. You knew that this would be just another night that meant nothing to him. No matter how much he “changed” in Vernon’s eyes, it was very clear to you that he remained uncommitted. But fuck it, your heart was still burning from the breakup, stinging from the memory of people uttering your ex’s name tonight. It was only going to be a kiss. Just something to soothe the pain.

He was so much closer now, invading your space, his hand completely eclipsing yours.  He smelled like marijuana and lingering cologne. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, but you didn’t. You let him kiss you, and god, it would be so much easier to dislike Mingyu if he didn’t kiss so well. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue was pushing into your mouth, his large body looming over yours as he pressed you into the mattress a little more. And you’re desperate for it; you couldn’t stop. This was supposed to be simple – just a kiss – but you could feel yourself falling under his spell, feel how his palms burned against your skin as they dragged down your torso. He explored your mouth like it was the first time, parting your legs to make room for himself on top of you. When his lips left yours, you almost let out a whine, but he helped take off your hoodie before reattaching his mouth to your neck. Those large hands snake under your shirt – up, up, and up – until he was cupping your breasts and you can feel how hard he is against your thigh.

Mingyu looked up at you as he kissed down your torso, his spit soaking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were still wearing. He lifted one of your legs, adjusting it so your thigh could rest comfortably on his shoulder and – shit, you knew where this was going. Reaching the waistband of your panties, he begged, “Let me go down on you.”

You mulled over his words. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” he grinned against your skin, meeting your eyes from between your legs. “But that’s a tomorrow problem. Please?” His head tilted. “Do I have to beg? I’m willing.”

You bit your tongue, egging him on a little as he nipped at the inside of your thigh. He bucked his hips once, them twice, trying to get the smallest bit of friction on his cock that was currently throbbing in his boxers. He grunted softly against your skin. 

“And if I say, ‘No?’” You asked with a raised brow.

He lifted his head and pouted his lips. After all these years, he still managed the perfect puppy dog eyes that could make just about anyone weak. “Don’t be mean,” he pleaded, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You like when I’m mean,” you quipped, giving him permission by helping him shimmy your panties off. He adjusted your legs again, presenting you like a meal.

“I do,” he chuckled, his breath ghosting over your pretty, pink folds. “Especially, when you act like you didn’t want me here in the first place.”

Before you can rebuttal, he’s pressing his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue up your slit to collect the wetness that gathered there. Just the small amount of attention had you keening, your hips jumping for more of him, and Mingyu was happy enough to oblige. His tongue flicked at your clit as he slid one single finger inside of you, testing your limits. Those puppy dog eyes lifted from between your thighs, wanting to see you crumble, knowing that it was him who made you like this. You sighed out his name, your hand coming down to tangle in his hair. And god, if Mingyu didn’t love that … he’d be a dead man. He groaned when he felt you tug at the strands, beginning to swirl his tongue in a circle around your puffy clit.

You couldn’t even prepare yourself when he shoved another finger inside, pumping them in and out at an unreasonably fast pace. But you were bucking into him, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered for him. It was too much but almost too little at the same time. You could practically feel him smile as he devoured you. The bed rattled against the wall when he ground his erection against the frame, so needy and aching. His plump lips suckled on your clit, your slick smearing over his face, but he didn’t want to miss a drop of you. He needed more of you, so he started curling three fingers inside of you, teasing that sweet spot.

This wasn’t your first rodeo with Mingyu. He knew what you could take.

“Mingyu,” you whined, and he glanced up at you again with the most fucked-out eyes imaginable. And still, he didn’t stop. “You’re gonna … I’m gonna cum so fast.”

He moaned into you, then begged, “Please. Need to taste you.”

He was so determined, so desperate to feel you shake and moan and cry until he was completely spent on the taste of you. And it wasn’t long before he got his wish: as he shoved those three fingers into you, grazing your g-spot while lapping at you like you were his last meal on death row. You unraveled on his tongue, muffling your cries for the rest of the people sleeping on your floor. Biting into your hand, you had physically restrain your body from shaking as your orgasm rocked through you, but Mingyu held you down with a gentle hand on your stomach.  He was staring at you again and you were staring at him and fuck, his half-closed eyes made him look like he was drunk on you. You could feel him smirking into your pussy as he collected every last drop of you, knowing that he did a good job. He sighed with relief when he could finally taste you again and again and again.

Once your body settled, you felt him start to tug at your shirt and kiss up your stomach. The thought of now having him inside you made your hands clench with excitement, but dear god, he just knocked the wind out of you and you weren’t sure how you could last. You were spent, tired, probably could just fall asleep right now.

You weren’t feeling his lips on your skin anymore, so you opened your eyes. The moonlight gave you just enough to see that, despite the raging boner he probably had, Mingyu was now snoring softly with his head resting on your hips. Brows raised, you almost couldn’t believe that this was the moment he decided to fall asleep, but you couldn’t deny that you had been on the verge of doing the same. 

Untangling yourself from him, you quickly cleaned yourself up and wiped his face clean with a washcloth. You sighed, using all the brute strength you had to haul him up on what was supposed to be your bed, and wrapped the covers around him. You admired him for a moment, your hand coming up to smooth back his dark hair. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than you cumming in his mouth. So you quickly moved away and slipped under the sheets of the other bed, using his snores as white noise.

The next morning, neither of you spoke of what happened.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you that he had a crush on you the moment Vernon introduced you two all those years ago, even when you disliked him. And slowly but surely, he was starting to realize it never truly went away.

Save the Date for the wedding of Joshua Hong and Jordan Lo: June 20th

Two months passed and the spring air turned sweltering. It was on days like this when you rolled the windows down and wasted gas just to get an overpriced iced coffee that you reminisced. You were taken back to a time when you waited by the curb as Vernon appeared from football practice, and even though he was sweaty, you still always agreed to drive him back to his dorm on the other side of campus. You would watch him say goodbye to his teammates and – shit, the light would catch, and suddenly you were looking at Mingyu wipe the sweat off his face while laughing with the quarterback and –

Now you were thinking about Mingyu again.

You had been thinking about him since April.

All of this felt so silly, like stupid games young 20-somethings played. You knew it wasn’t good for you in engage in – well, anything with Mingyu. He had always been perfectly uncommitted with women, and he was clearly obsessed with his work, posting his new recipes or pictures of him and his flag football team on his Instagram stories. You could handle this. You could be an adult and have a functional acquaintanceship with someone you found attractive. 

So you kept your distance. On the off chance that Mingyu was free and asked if you wanted to get together (which was a shock in itself), you declined. Even if you wanted to. Even if you desperately wondered what would come of it. The next wedding wasn’t until the end of June and you were already biting you lip at the thought of seeing him in a suit again.

The only person you could finally blabber to about this was Minghao, and in typical fashion, he laughed. Not that you expected anything less.

“You’re overthinking the entire situation,” he said over drinks. “It’s completely normal for you to have a little fun, especially while healing from a breakup. That’s what being single is all about, my friend.”

He was right. Of course, he was right. But what if Mingyu rejected you yet again, like he did in college? You wanted to talk to Vernon about this. He always gave you the best advice with this stuff, but this was his friend. The last thing you wanted was to make his friendship with Mingyu weird.

You attempted to ignore him. You redownloaded some dating apps as a distraction. You deleted them just as fast.

On the morning of June 20th, your cousin, Jordan, was marrying her longtime boyfriend, Joshua Hong. You had only met Josh on a number of occasions, but considering that they had been together for almost twelve years, you trusted him enough to take care of her. You felt lucky to be chosen as a bridesmaid and you’d never make a fuss, but dear god, the dark blue of this dress clashed with just about everything. The color was so dark and the dress was clinging to just about all of you and Mingyu’s tie was the wrong shade of blue –

Damn, did he look handsome though.

Jordan had made you both get to the venue early for a rehearsal dinner, and then once the morning came, you were whisked off to hair and makeup. You had barely said a word to Mingyu, too scared to give him anything besides small talk, but you couldn’t help but compliment the new suit he bought for the last few weddings. “Figured I’d cave and invest in one that wasn’t from Goodwill,” he explained, “for you.”

For you. For you. For you.

Your heels were hurting your feet halfway through the wedding, and despite how hard you were trying to focus on Josh’s vows, you couldn’t help but find Mingyu’s eyes in the crowd. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone else, his stare burning into yours to let you know his intent. You swallowed hard. Would anyone notice if you hid your blush behind the bouquet in your hands? It felt like torture having him look at you like this, as if there wasn’t an extravagant wedding happening around them, as if he wasn’t Kim Mingyu. 

It wasn’t until the reception that you could finally get a word in with your cousin, some much needed alone time after what was surely going to be the craziest wedding you went to this year. You both parked yourself near the open bar, ignoring the guests on the dance floor that were screaming for another round of the Cha Cha Slide. Tucking a strand behind your ear, Jordan said, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. Jeez, I really didn’t think when I was three and met you a couple weeks after you were born that we’d be here. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You grinned, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” The bartender handed you a new glass of wine and you took a sip. “Besides, these days all I do is work or go to weddings. The life of being a permanent wedding guest, I supposed.”

“Speaking of guests …” Jordan turned her head slightly, ogling Mingyu from where he was standing up and trying to decline your great aunt’s advances to dance. Your cousin giggled. “He isn’t the older guy I thought you’d bring.”

“Circumstances change.” You shrugged, and she gave you a look. “I’d rather not get into it.”

Jordan’s brow raised. “You guys are having sex though, right?”

You almost choked while taking another sip of your wine. “Absolutely not.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I –” You sighed, and then decided to suck down the rest of the glass in one go. Jordan whistled. “We did at one point. Very long time ago. But he’s Vernon’s friend and … it’s a long story.”

“Sounds like it,” she snorted, eyes flickering around the reception until they landed somewhere behind you. “Well, if you’re not having sex with him, my friend just might tonight.”

Your expression muddled, until she pointed over your shoulder. Turning around, you found Jordan’s Maid of Honor chatting up Mingyu near the stairs that lead to the restrooms. Her hand was inching up his sleeve and he was blushing at what you could only assume was a compliment coming from her lips. He was clearly enjoying the conversation, despite the intimate looks he was giving you earlier. 

Classic fucking Kim Mingyu, you thought.

A pang of jealousy surfaced that you couldn’t control. It was probably best for everyone if you walked away and took a breather. After Joshua pulled his wife onto the dance floor, you adjusted the tight silk of your dress and headed for the bathrooms. You walked past them, your perfume wafting past Mingyu’s nostrils, a scent he would know anywhere. 

Instead of going inside the bathroom, you decide to stand in the empty hall connected to the venue and brace your back against the cool wall. You sighed, gathering yourself, completely unaware it wasn’t just you here until you heard the squeak of someone else’s shoes.

“I noticed you were empty,” Mingyu muttered as a way of greeting. He was holding two glasses of rosé between his fingers, stepping down the small staircase to get to you.

It was just you two now, and he was handing you the glass while standing so close that you could smell his cologne. Had this dress always felt that tight, or could you just not breathe right now? You watched the way his eyes flickered to your mouth, and it took everything in you not to yank him closer by the tie. Instead, you took a big gulp of rosé.

“You didn’t have to come after me,” you remarked, and then nodded your head in the direction of the Maid of Honor now on the dance floor. “You looked like you were having fun.”

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side, studying you carefully.

“She’s pretty. Don’t stop on my account, but please be aware that we are sharing a room so you can’t bring anyone back there.”

Mingyu’s lips slowly curved into a grin. “Are you jealous?”

You scoffed, “No. I’m just … being realistic.”

Taking your half empty glass from your hand, he set them both down on a side table right near the women’s restroom. Your mouth opened, but the words died as soon as he placed a hand beside your head on the wall. He was so tall that he towered over you, even in heels, leaning into your space with pretty, half-opened eyes as he stared at your glossy lips.

“Can I be realistic with you?” He didn’t give you a moment to answer. “I cannot stop thinking about our last night together. I know you probably thought it happened because of the weed, but I … these past two months, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. And it’s killing me that I’ve been trying to be normal this whole night when all I’ve wanted to do is drag you away and make you cum again.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words. He leaned in then, grazing his nose over the side of your face, desperate to be in your orbit. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and tried to control your heart rate, but how was that even possible when Mingyu’s other hand was brushing up and down your side, tangled in the silk.

“Well, that …” You swallowed hard. “That wouldn’t be a good idea considering all my family is here.”

He tsked under his breath. “Obviously, it wouldn’t be, but …” You felt his nose at your jaw, inhaling the scent of your perfume again, the one that made him crazy. And he damn near groaned in your ear. 

“Mingyu, you … you –”

“Fuck, how could you think I’m looking at anyone else here when you look this good in your dress?” His voice had taken on that needy tone he always got when he was horny. It almost felt like a reward to be able to hear it again. “I’ve been half-hard this entire reception just from looking at you, remembering the way you tasted …” He muttered another curse.

This was how he always acted. Mingyu could be so desperate and pleading when he wanted to get someone in bed, needy to the point he would do anything just to please you, but god – you couldn’t deny how much you liked it. He was reeling you in. You were like fish to bait.

Slowly, he laced your dominant hand with his and moved it from his belt buckle to his groin. You could barely breathe when you felt him harden under your touch, and then you remembered you were still in a public hallway, where just about anyone could walk by. 

Your eyes met his half-lidded ones as he murmured, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

And god help you, because you whimpered at the sound of his voice, slick starting to gather between your thighs.

“Okay, Mingyu, just …” You sighed, composing yourself because you knew he wasn’t going to any time soon. Your hand slipped away from his and he huffed, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder. “Go to our room and let me make my rounds. I’ll meet you up there.”

He stood up. For a moment, he was almost tempted to drag you into the bathroom and bury his face between your legs, too hungry to let you get away now. But one of your uncles was walking down the hall, and you separated quickly. With a nod, you walked back to the reception and said goodbye to your family that you didn’t get to talk to for too long prior. Jordan gave you a look when you mentioned about going to bed early, and even Josh told you how weird you were being, but your cousin shut him up and sent you a wink.

You exhaled heavily and headed back to hotel on the other side of the venue. Slipping your heels off once you were inside the elevator, you debated if giving into Mingyu this easily was the smart thing to do. Smart? Definitely not. But would it be enjoyable? You didn’t need to answer that question. Mingyu knew what he was doing.

As you unlocked the door to your hotel room, you began to wonder if you were just setting yourself up to be hurt again. He didn’t come back to you like this in college, but what’s stopping him from telling you that he’s “just not that into you” at the next wedding? Or what if he just thought of you as an easy hookup that would get his dick wet every 2 months? Well, you hadn’t done that yet –

Yet. Yet. Yet.

The word repeated in your head like a melody, because when you threw your purse down and saw Mingyu walking out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower and dressed in only a towel around his waist, you realized that you were most definitely getting his dick wet tonight. Whether it was in your mouth or somewhere deeper, you were salivating for it. 

He was smiling at you and you were smiling at him and Jesus, he was so goddamn handsome that you couldn’t believe that he was the one desperate for you. Droplets of water trickled down his tan skin and that towel around his waist was just barely holding on. His torso was chiseled and his arms – fuck, his biceps were bigger than you remembered. He was something out of a dream – some horny, fucked-up dream that you only had after masturbating before bed.

He was on you instantly, pushing you against the wall and kissing you hard. Sighing into the kiss, your hands fist into the towel to yank him closer, but it only makes the flimsy fabric fall. You break away for a moment to mutter, “Oh, shit,” but his lips can’t stay away from yours for long. And he’s laughing, like you did exactly what he wanted. You were too hypnotized by the scent of his body wash to care.

Dragging his lips down your neck, he sucked at the spot that he knew made your thighs press together, grinning proudly against your skin when you moaned. His fingers gripped the soft silk of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric up to feel you that much closer. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much he liked you in this dress – and god, did he like you in this dress – he needed you out of it. Now.

Mingyu unzipped your dress with precision, setting it down on one of the two beds in the room, and both of you were suddenly wishingthere was only one. His hands smoothed down your sides, his breath hot against your mouth. He just wanted to feel you everywhere. He almost didn’t want to step away, afraid you’ll slip through his fingers like sand. When you two had hooked up in college, it was quick and explosive, letting out the tension that had been building for years. There was so much territory for him to cover now, so many ways for him to find out what made you whine and sigh with pleasure. But, if he were being honest, all he wanted right now was for you to –

“Sit on my face,” he begged, caging you into the wall, pressing his hard cock against your stomach. So desperate for just an ounce of friction, so hungry for another taste of you. He could literally start drooling at the thought of it. He was mesmerized by you; he’d do anything you asked just to have your pussy on his tongue again.

But you seemed to be debating your options, biting you lip again, and he wished that didn’t turn him on even more. You were just so pretty, and the way your face scrunched as you decided on something was a sight he couldn’t help but think about when he touched himself, even all those years ago. It was just you. You. 

Eventually, your face relaxed, and you replied, “Well, you don’t have to beg me.”

Mingyu’s lips pulled into a smile, and he laughed while pulling you down onto the nearest bed. Despite his request, you continued to straddle his torso and kiss him for just a little while longer. He was needy, moaning into your mouth whenever his cock bumped against your ass, but all you wanted to feel his lips on yours, tangle your tongue with his, even if it was just for another minute. 

You forgot Mingyu was stronger than you, though. It wasn’t much longer before he was yanking your body up and turning you around so you knelt just above his face. He inhaled the scent of your pussy and almost breathed a sigh of relief, but instead muttered, “Such a tease sometimes.”

Now that you were hovering above him, you were suddenly self conscious about how excited you were and if your arousal was seeping onto his face. You couldn’t even see if he was thrilled or not, since he had turned you to face away from him, but the way his cock jumped in front of your eyes told you enough. His hands gripped your thighs tight. “I don’t want to crush you,” you said nervously.

“You could suffocate me and I wouldn’t have a problem with it."

You chewed on your bottom lip. His tone was firm, probably the most serious you’d ever heard from him. But you were embarrassed and this was crazy and you still so wet. With flushed cheeks, you asked, “Mingyu, are you –”

“Yes,” he answered before pulling you down onto his face.

He wasn’t teasing you tonight. He was devouring you without even letting you catch your breath. His tongue swiping at your clit before he sucked on it – hard. So hard that you let you a sound that was a mixture of a yelp and a moan. Gripping you roughly, he spread you wider, drinking more of you in. Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his face, which made him groan into your pussy. The vibration in his voice spread throughout your entire body, goosebumps lining your flesh. “Mingyuuu,” you whined, begging for more, and you could practically feel him smirk as he flicked at your swollen clit. 

Leaning forward, you turned your head up and noticed again just how hard he was. His cock had always been perfect: the perfect size, dark pink at the tip, veins etched into the shaft. Precum beaded at the head, sliding down every so slowly, as he throbbed and ached and – god, his hips were almost thrusting into the air now. You didn’t doubt he could get off for hours on this, but that didn’t mean he needed to be unsatisfied.

Besides, you wanted something to do with your mouth anyway.

Mingyu whimpered as you shifted slightly to reach his cock. Your body stretched, your mouth at the perfect angle as you flicked the head with your tongue. He pulled you back towards his mouth, shoving his tongue inside your tight hole and making you gasp at the same time you licked a stripe up his shaft. His tongue worked you open while you swirled your own along the tip, and then finally took him into your mouth.

The grunt he released should’ve caused an earthquake.

You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, choking when he bucked into your mouth.  You could hardly breathe, taking every opportunity to inhale through your nose, but you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. God forbid, you have a hobby like wanting Kim Mingyu’s cock in  your mouth. He took the liberty of grinding you against his face with his own hands, wrapping his lips around your clit again, eager to taste your climax. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last if you kept sucking on his tip like that. He groaned each time, feeling your tongue circle his head before going back down, taking as much as you could, as if you were rewarding him. And he just couldn’t help but whine along with you.

Your lips pulled off him to kitten lick the veins along the sides of his shaft, and you breathily asked, “Are you close?”

His only response was a moan straight into your pussy.

You nodded, even if he couldn’t see it, before your mouth opened like second nature. You spit on his cock and stuffed him down your throat once again. Head moving faster, you were slobbering on him like a dog in heat, trying not to gag and failing. Your free hand snaked up to cup one of his balls, and the sound he released was deafening. His tongue flicked and sucked at your clit like he had nothing left to live for, hungry for every last drop of your essence.

But then you were cumming, and he was too not long after.

You cried, choking on his cock as you came all over his face. White blurred in your vision, and you were a mess of sweat and spit and so much cum. He exploded in your mouth a moment later, hot seed running down your throat, and you consumed all of it. Neither of you wanted to miss out on the taste of each other. It was filthy, intoxicating, how much you liked this. How much you could suck him off over and over again, and not get tired of him.

You didn’t know it at the time, but Mingyu would say the same about you. If not worse.

He could spend all day between your thighs and never want to leave.

When you both finally angled off each other, spent and exhausted, your breathing was heavy and off by two seconds. Mingyu was glancing over at you before you could even process, a smile playing at his swollen lips. He brushed away a strand of hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Mingyu,” you finally said, “has anyone ever told you that you have boyfriend dick?”

Mingyu had wanted to tell you how much he’d been dreaming of that moment, how much you had haunted his dreams and left him waking up so hard that he felt he was going through puberty again. Sometimes he dreamed of how good it would feel when he finally slipped into you, inch by inch. You’d feel like home.

Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Seokmin and Quinn Song: July 31st

You couldn’t go a day without talking to Mingyu. Whether it be through text or over the phone, you were joking with him, telling him about your day, and vice versa. Just a month prior, you had tried keeping your distance, but now … you simply couldn’t help yourself. It was like there was a voice inside your head telling you to contact him, to send him a funny video you saw that day, to tell him about the show you were currently watching. And on nights when you had too much to drink, that voice made you text him that you missed him. He always said he missed you too.

Mingyu: I’m watching that show you recommended

Mingyu: kinda wish you were watching it with me

Mingyu: but I’m still content here and I can see why you like it so much

You: right?? I knew you’d like it!

You couldn’t help but giggle at your phone when his texts came through. And you answered them immediately, like you always did. 

Mingyu: what are you doing right now?

You: wouldn’t you like to know

Neither of you made the effort to go on an actual date. It was all just flirty texts with a TikTok mixed in every once in a while. Promises about going back to that coffee shop someday, but never planning the day. To be honest, this was one of those moments where you were glad Mingyu was so uncommitted. If you started going on dates that didn’t include a vow exchange in between, it would be so easy to fall for him again, and then be let down when he eventually didn’t want to see you after wedding season. 

Mingyu: I mean that’s why I asked

You: I’m hanging out with

A pillow was suddenly thrown at your head. “Ow!” You shouted, head shooting up from your phone to glare at Vernon sitting on the other side of the couch. “What the hell was that for?”

“Anakin is literally burning alive and all you can do is look at your phone!” Vernon scoffed, turning Revenge of the Sith back on. You set your phone down on your lap as he muttered, “Kinda wish I never won that bet.”

Vernon, obviously, was becoming increasingly annoyed that you and Mingyu had rekindled … whatever this was. Sometimes you wondered if you were talking to Mingyu more than your best friend, but given the way Vernon was acting, that was probably the case. You probably shouldn’t even be texting Mingyu while hanging out with Vernon. Bad friend move; happens to the best of us. 

You apologized to Vernon in the best way possible: you bought him fried chicken from his favorite spot.

As summer came along, so did Seokmin and Quinn’s wedding at the end of the month, an invitation that was barely hanging on by an old Britney Spears magnet on your fridge. Quinn Song had been your first ever roommate out of college. You both had met on a Facebook group to find roommates in the area and quickly hit it off. She had been your roommate up until last year actually, when her now-fiancé Lee Seokmin asked her to move in with him. It was at that point that you finally decided to live alone, besides the few days out of the week that Vernon crashed at your apartment.

The wedding was being held on a pretty island in the northeast, nestled on the expansive grounds of a bed and breakfast in the area. The spot felt warm and lived in, the exact kind of place you imagined Quinn would get married at. 

Meeting Mingyu at the airport had been awkward, but at the very least, you two were sitting in different rows of the plane. Maybe it shouldn’t have been as cringe-worthy as it was, given the fact that you two had been talking nonstop, but it was the memory that the last time you did see each other in person, you were sitting on his face and his cock was so far down your throat –

Mingyu had found your eyes a couple rows behind him on the plane. Even he was blushing now, as if he could read your thoughts.

You had rented a car once you reached your destination and threw him the keys, letting him drive the convertible down the coast while the summer breeze whipped through your hair. You tried not to notice the way his hand twitched on the gear shift, like he was itching to place his palm on your thigh, to ground himself to your presence. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Especially when all you could do was stare out the window with a big smile on your face.

Unfortunately, you had to book a room at a small hotel near the bed and breakfast since all the rooms were used for the wedding party. The hotel was quaint, but definitely old and smelled like the Febreze scent your mom used to love when you were a kid. Your room was tinier than the pictures implied, but it was on the first floor and had a screen door that opened to a pretty view of the ocean. You didn’t have much time to enjoy it though, considering that the ceremony was in a few hours and the reception would probably carry on until way past midnight.

You decided to rewear the floral sundress that made a previous appearance at Chan and Adrianna’s wedding. It wasn’t like anyone here was at that event, and honestly, you didn’t care. Throwing your hair up into a perfectly messy updo, you curled a few pieces and took your time with your diligent makeup routine. Mingyu was in his suit before you could even blink, biding his time while you got ready by watching past game recordings of the flag football team he taught and trying to identify key moves they missed out on. As you finished up and clumsily slipped on your shoes, the perfume you sprayed seemed to beckon him like a siren song, and suddenly, he was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

Your brows shot up. “Done with your flag football research?”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied.

You turned, unable to stop your lips from pulling into a soft smile. His expression was so warm, cheeks tinged slightly pink either from embarrassment or a nasty sunburn. He was beautiful. In ways you couldn’t even comprehend. 

Holding out your necklace to him, you asked, “Can you help me put this on?”

He nodded, plucking the dainty chain from your palm. You moved back to the mirror as he struggled to open the clasp with his thick fingers, but he got it eventually. Placing the thin, gold chain around your neck, you watched the small, star-shaped pendant sit so delicately under your collarbones. He fixed the clasp on your neck, his fingers brushing the top of your spine, and you watched him lean forward in the mirror.

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, breath hot and making the hairs on your neck stand up. “I meant it, by the way,” he whispered, and then placed the softest of kisses behind your ear. 

Your breath hitched, and you were unable to form a single coherent thought. For the first time in a while, he was catching you by surprise. He was moving back, and you noticed him smirk in the mirror, knowing exactly how he was affecting you. That annoying asshole –

“Ready to head out?” He asked, grabbing his wallet from the desk.

You huffed and tugged the strap of your purse onto your shoulder. “Of course.”

The grounds of the bed and breakfast were bigger than you assumed, enough to fit an extremely large tent and hardwood floor for all the guests to congregate. The ceremony was held near the shoreline of the ocean, and it was so, unapologetically Quinn to have a few seashell pins in her veil as she walked towards her husband. You had known Seokmin as long as Quinn had been your roommate, but you had never seen this kind of smile on his face until now. He completely lit up at the sight of her, and he didn’t waste a second to say, “I do,” once his time came.

As the guests crowded into the tent for the reception, Mingyu seemed to hold onto you like a toddler with it’s parent. His arm was locked around yours, letting you lead him through the crowd, even though he was tall enough to see over the tops of everyone’s heads. His palm was so warm on your wrist, and then his fingers were so easily lacing through yours, and you squeezed because you simply couldn’t help yourself. 

You were able to find your table easily, but you didn’t recognize the other people already there. They introduced themselves as Seokmin’s friends, and you remembered seeing one or two of them at a bar. You still couldn’t get a read on these people, and found yourself swiftly growing silent around their shared camaraderie. But Mingyu was suddenly so talkative, catching along with their jokes just as quickly, so you stood and whispered in his ear, “Do you want a drink?”

He leaned back to meet your eyes, and you swore time stopped for a moment. His hand reached down, squeezing your wrist, as he said, “You know what I like.”

Jesus. Fuck. Since whendid he have you this wrapped around his finger?

(Probably since sophomore year of college.)

You nodded, swinging your head in the direction of the bar, and your feet had started to head there when you halted in place. It almost felt like your heels were glued to the floor as you found the face of the last person you expected to be here. The only face that could make all the noise drown out around you.

Your ex.

He still had that same curl that always got in his eyes. He was wearing the same suit he wore to your mother’s engagement party last year. The same watch on his wrist; the same cufflinks. Same. Same. Same. And now, he was meeting your eyes across the room. Bodies formed in clusters under the tent – some hugging, some stumbling into each other – but he was unable to look away.

Until a head popped up in front of him, standing from her chair at the table. Her wedge sandals almost made her taller than him, and her dress looked expensive enough that he probably bought it. You didn’t know her, but you knew of her. Well, at least, you knew what the back of her head looked like, and that was her right there. 

You couldn’t forget the night even if you tried. Exhaustion had your shoulders sagging as you unlocked the door to your boyfriend’s apartment. He didn’t typically keep it locked, but you had a key anyway. You remembered how quiet the place was, except for the soft sounds echoing from his bedroom. At first, you thought he was just masturbating, and to be honest, you were too tired to engage in anything tonight. But a voice in your head had urged you to move, to go, go, go towards his room. And you were slowly pushing open the door, only to find your boyfriend fucking your 22-year-old neighbor from behind, yanking on her short hair like a leash. You had been too scared to move, too scared to breathe, but eventually, you had started wailing. His eyes had found yours – exactly like in this moment – and he screamed, slipping away completely as your back slid to the floor. He had tried explaining, tried to yell at the young girl, but everything had drowned away in that moment, and all you could hear was the ringing in your ears –

Your breathing was growing rapid, just like that day at his apartment. Sprinting to the inside of the bed and breakfast, you tried to act normal and say hello to whoever you knew mingling by the bathroom. But something was clearly very wrong. It was evident in your eyes, the way tears were pricking at the sides. You almost thought the universe was pulling a cruel prank on you, but then you remembered that it was Quinn who had introduced you two in the first place, that he had been a friend of a friend. 

Climbing up the staircase in the lobby, you plopped yourself down on the middle step and let your face fall into your hands. You began to count your breaths – one, two, three, one, two, three – anything to make you get a semblance of control. But you could feel your brain spinning, and your heart was beating too fast. Was this what it felt like to die? Was your cheating ex going to be the last face you saw before you completely slumped against this staircase? Vernon always said you had a flair for the dramatic. What a fitting way to end.

You felt a weight sink into the plush carpet next to you, and you lifted your head, tears brimming your eyes.

“You do realize that this isn’t your party. You can’t cry if you want to,” Mingyu joked, reaching out and swiping the tear at your lash line. His eyes softened then, looking at you like you were something fragile, like a baby bird. “What’s wrong?” His voice was hardly about a whisper.

You sniffled, dabbing at the corners of your eyes with your knuckles. The last thing you needed was your makeup messed up. “This is so embarrassing. I’m crying over something so …” Your words trailed off, noticing that he was leveling a look at you. You sighed before admitting, “I forgot that the bride, Quinn, might invite my ex because they were friends. Somewhat.”

“Your ex? As in that ex?” His brow shot up, and you nodded. “Did he come alone?”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, and after a moment, you watched his large palm slowly envelope one of yours. The rough pads of his fingers – the hands of a cook – brushed over your knuckles, and his touch was so warm that it could burn. 

His voice was soft in your ear as he said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You chuckled a little, turning to look at him again. “Then we’d be sitting on this staircase forever.”

He smiled at you and stretched out his long legs. “That’s fine with me.”

Your lips pursed, and you found him staring at them for a moment. A sigh escaped, and you glanced down at your laced hands. How perfectly they fit together, how he held you with such a fierce softness. His thumb grazed the scar on your knuckle that you got the first time you fell off your bike. Finally, you answered, “He came here with the girl he cheated on me with.”

Mingyu didn’t speak, but you did hear him do a sharp intake.

“She’s twenty-two. She didn’t – she doesn’t know any better. He’s in his early thirties and he’ll do it again,” you continued, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “I found them in his apartment after I came home from a late meeting at work. It was … messy. Walking in on them, the fallout, now this … everything about that breakup has felt like one big mess. And now, I have to see him here and be reminded of it all–fucking–over again.”

You didn’t even dare to meet his eyes as the next words tumbled out of your mouth, already feeling your voice start to break again. “It didn’t just hurt because I found them. It hurt because … I never wanted to become my mother. I love her. I really do. But the last thing I ever wanted was to become her. Be in the same situation as her. And yet, there I was, witnessing yet another infidelity that would affect my life for what seems like forever.” You rubbed at your running nose. “I found my father cheating too. It wasn’t exactly the same. I found him kissing my best friend’s mom in my parent’s bedroom one night when my mother stayed at work too late. The sentiment still stands, and history was always bound to repeat itself. Daughters always become their mothers and I always have to bear witness to another man not choosing to stick around –”

Mingyu stopped you by turning your face towards his, one hand cupping your cheek. His thumb skimmed the tears running through your blush. He didn’t say anything; his eyes let you know that he was here. That he was sticking around. Despite everything you thought of him, despite your past – Mingyu was here. 

He held you for as long as you needed, gathering you in his arms and cradling your head against his shoulder. He let your tears soak into the fabric of his expensive suit, promising he’d get it dry-cleaned, which made you laugh. Your fingers clutched his lapels and you almost considered not letting go. You would give anything to stay in this bubble, to sit on this staircase in his embrace forever.

“I meant what I said all those months ago,” he said, his voice muffled from his lips at the crown of your head. “I would kill any guy that has done you wrong. Do you want me to kill him?”

You chuckled and raised your head from his shoulder. “What are you gonna kill him with? A butter knife?” You shook your head. “No chef is gonna let you in that kitchen tonight to grab a weapon. You of all people should know that.”

Mingyu grimaced. “This conversation is getting morbid.”

Another laugh bubbled at your lips. “You brought it up!”

“And you’re smiling again,” he said, making your hands hold onto him tighter. “That’s all I could ask for.”

Such simple words could take your breath away, especially when they came from his mouth. You searched his eyes for a moment, your fingers now smoothing out the creases in his lapel. Eventually, you whispered, “I don’t know if I can survive this whole reception. I hate the awkward tension, but I should stay for Quinn.”

“Trust me, I know,” he snickered, and his hand covered over yours as an anchor. “I say we stay at the reception for as long as your comfortable. Then we go to bed early. Whatever works for you.”

Your smile was so kind as you nodded along with his plan. After touching up your makeup, you took his hand and let him lead you back to the reception. Once you saw Quinn in her short, after party dress and looking at Seokmin with stars in her eyes, you instantly felt more at ease. This was her day; you wouldn’t let one person sour it. And Mingyu, clearly, wasn’t going to let your own nerves sour it either. Anytime you locked eyes with your ex, there Mingyu was, distracting you by whispering in your ear how pretty you looked or asking you about your best memories while living with Quinn. There was one moment where you saw your ex heading in your direction, assuming he was finally going to talk to you, and Mingyu stood up to whisk you onto the dance floor. His large arms enveloped you, holding you close, as you swayed to one of your favorite songs. Everything about him felt safe, secure, and he even let you stand on his feet when you told him you had never been that good at dancing. And when you looked at him, you noticed that he was staring at you like how Quinn looked at Seokmin during her speech. Even when you had cried, had let him in, see parts of you that not even Vernon touched … he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

You stayed at the reception far longer than anticipated. When you told Mingyu that you were too tired to stay any longer, he didn’t question it. He simply grabbed your purse and jacket before taking your arm in his, walking the short distance back to your Febreze-ridden hotel. The first thing you did once you were back in your room was take off your heels. They were only a kitten heel, but your feet were already blistering, and you winced as you went to the bathroom to wash off your makeup. Mingyu had set your stuff down on the small desk before walking out onto the deck connected to your room. You craned your neck out, assuming he was going to smoke a joint, but he was just staring at the ocean, noticing how loud the waves crashed against the shore.

You padded out of the bathroom and leaned against the door frame for a moment, admiring him in the dim light. It almost left in you in disbelief how you had roped Kim Mingyu, one of the most attractive men you’d ever met and probably one of the longest crushes you’d ever had in your life, into being your wedding date for an entire year. He had a lost a bet, but he really didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to invest in a new suit. He didn’t have take the time off from his two jobs. He didn’t have to listen to your trauma, or look at you like you were this painting to be worshipped, this Mona Lisa of sorts. Mingyu could’ve said no. 

But he didn’t. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” you finally informed him, and he turned to meet you eyes. “Can you help me out of my dress?”

He nodded diligently, following you to the bathroom. You pulled your hair up with one hand, and with deft fingers, he slid the zipper down your back. Typically, you would hold the dress to your chest until he left the bathroom, out of respect, but you were letting it pool at your feet tonight. You stepped out of it, your gaze locking with his as you turned on the shower. You were giving him this look and he was still standing there in his half-buttoned dress shirt, hands forming into fists as he fought the urge touch you. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for your permission.

But you didn’t even have to say anything. Your eyes said the words for you. As you climbed into the standing shower, he took his time removing his suit, pretending as if he wasn’t fucking dying to have his hands on you, and then he was behind you, the hard panes of his chest flush against your back. He closed the shower door as the glass began to fog up.

The water was scalding as it rained down on your head, steam forming around the small bathroom. You could still feel the dried tears on your face, imprinted underneath your makeup all night, and you did your best to wash them away. Mingyu noticed the way your shoulders sagged, the way you sighed while you were lost in thought, and as much as wanted touch you in places that made those sweet sounds fall from your lips, he held himself back. Instead, he let his hands comb through your wet hair before scrubbing shampoo into the strands. You relaxed against him, closing your eyes as he washed your hair.

It was so domestic that you could cry. 

(Again.)

The last person you ever thought could be capable of this kind of care was Mingyu. You both had known each other for eight years, and not once had he displayed this kind of person around you. Or maybe you just weren’t paying attention, too lost in your own perception of him. Even now, you couldn’t help but remind yourself of when he avoided you after the hookup in senior year. He really isn’t the same guy, Vernon’s voice echoed in your head. Give him a chance. You had never trusted those words, but in this moment … you realized where you had went wrong.

The water began to get cold when it came time to wash his own hair and you could tell he was struggling to rush. His mannerisms made you giggle, and even though the steam began to dissipate from the room, you still turned to his front and rested your forehead on his chest, letting the lukewarm water beat down your neck.

When you walked out of the shower, you had never felt more fresh and at ease. Your body was all warm and you had brought the comfiest pajamas for summer weather. The breeze wafting off the ocean blew through your room from the open screen door, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore could lull you to sleep.

But right now, it seemed like neither of you were keen on the subject. As you slipped under the covers next to each other, you were grateful that there was only one bed: one large, king-sized bed that both of you could be using to spread out. Instead, you were huddled close, hair still wet from the shower, and his arms locked around you like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. Your hands cupped his face, studying parts of him that you didn’t think of in your previous lust-induced hazes. Fingers traced his lips, brushed over the tip of his nose – where his tiny mole was stamped – before you skimmed the shell of his ear.

You almost didn’t recognize your own voice as you whispered, “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime,�� he smiled.

A beat of silence. Hands stilled. Lips pursed.

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, kiss me.”

His mouth was on yours before you could even finish the sentence, but he still took his time exploring new ways to make you moan into the kiss. He kept one hand splayed on your back, pressing you further into him, while the other played with the hem of your loose t-shirt. Your hands knotted into his hair as he kissed you slow, savoring you like a fine meal. And you simply let him. You were like molten lava, melting in the palm of his calloused hands. 

You felt his fingers prod at the waistband of your shorts, and it was game over. Slipping them under, he practically whined into your mouth when he realized you hadn’t put any panties on after the shower. His mouth disconnected from yours, fingers sliding between your slick folds. “Are you trying to kill me?” He breathed against your lips.

“In my defense,” you chuckled softly, “I forgot to bring them to the bathroom.”

He laughed with you, and you were debating on crying again because he was so kind and good and definitely just as obsessed with you as you were with him. No matter how many times you didn’t want to admit it, you had somehow fallen into Kim Mingyu’s trap once again. 

He kissed you again, hungrier this time, as he spread you open with his fingers. You whimpered, but he swallowed it with his tongue and began to rub tight circles on your clit. Your leg lifted, hooking onto his waist, and you bucked against his hand. Your body felt like it was on fire, but Mingyu was careful, plucking your strings like a guitar, and you needed moremoremore. Pushing two fingers inside of you, his kiss was like a sound barrier as he consumed all your sweet sounds, as if that would allow him to hear them forever. 

It was only when you came apart that he dragged his lips to your neck, wanting to focus on your moans as he fucked you with his fingers. He felt you shake, your pussy squeezing his thick fingers, and he kept rubbing your clit through it, wanting to prolong your orgasm as much as possible. If not for you, then for him, just so he could hear you. He would make you cum as many times as you wanted if it meant he could hear his name falling from your lips. 

Neither of you wanted to stop; all fumbling hands and shaky limbs as he finally tugged your shorts off. It was a lot more difficult to take off his boxers without separating from you, but you laughed and you were so pretty that he almost forgot what he was doing in the first place. Once he was situated, you rolled on top of him, straddling his lap. You held his face in your hands, and for a moment, you could almost see reflections of the dark ocean outside in his starry gaze. Your palms drifted down, fingertips tracing the hard panes of his chest. He was all muscle, sculpted like your very own David statue; his complexion so similar to golden hour personified.

You lifted your t-shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. Mingyu was already so hard that it hurt, but he took a few more seconds to stare at you. He wanted to remember this moment forever: the sight of you on top of him, naked and vulnerable, hair wet and a faint blush on your cheeks.

Sitting up on your knees, you positioned yourself right over his cock and gripped the shaft to get the perfect angle inside of you. You were looking at him and he was looking at you as you lowered yourself slightly, grazing his tip against your wet slit, still dripping from your previous orgasm. Mingyu groaned at the sensitivity, throwing his head back against the pillow and muttering, “This is so mean.”

“You like when I’m mean,” you giggled, repeating the same words you uttered that fateful night after Chan’s wedding, when Mingyu’s face was buried between your thighs.

And Mingyu recognized it too, a grin making it’s way to his lips. But that was soon replaced by look of complete bliss as you finally sunk down onto his cock. He was the perfect size, filling you just right but never uncomfortable. He gave you a moment to adjust, but you could tell from his white-knuckled grip on your hips that he was damn near fighting the urge to thrust up into you. He didn’t though. He was patient and perfect and all yours.

You anchored yourself to him with one hand on his shoulder, beginning to rock into him at a snail’s pace. Your eyes connected, and even as he moaned underneath you, he was unable to stop smiling. Mingyu let you set the pace, and you took your time, getting to know what speed had him pulling your hips harder. The angle had him buried so deep inside that you could practically feel him in your stomach, and you sighed each time as you moved against him. 

“Fuck,” he whined, shifting to sit up against the headboard. “I’ve needed you so bad.”

“I know, I know,” you confessed in a breathy whimper. “Me too.”

He was digging his fingers into your hips so hard that you were sure there’d be marks, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him, wanted this. Wanted to be this connected to him and feel him this deep and cum together as the waves crashed against the shore outside. He began to move you on his own accord, bouncing you on his cock as he leaned forward to nip and suck at your neck. “So pretty,” he mused against your skin, breath stuttering as your walls tightened. “So pretty sitting on my cock.”

You were the one whining now, raking your fingers into his dark strands as your thigh muscles burned. Your breasts jumped with each slam of his hips against yours, and he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, dipping his tongue into your collarbone, before latching his mouth around one of your nipples.

Your hands pulled at his hair. “Mingyu, please,” you cooed, not exactly sure what you were begging for. Just moremoremore. 

His eyes lifted to yours and you watched him fucking smile while tugging at your nipple. You were melting like putty, and he was able to still move you with one hand, using his free one to cup your other breast and run his thumb over that nipple. Tears pricked at your eyes, feeling him pulse inside you with each pass. And when he started to thrust up into you, you were pretty sure that you were close to seeing stars.

“Wanna cum with you,” he rasped while switching breasts and flicking his tongue over your other nipple. “Please, wanna cum inside you.”

You nodded, too cock drunk to say anything besides, “Yesyesyes.”

He was rolling your hips now, practically rutting into you as he lifted his head from your chest, leaving a trail of spit. You leaned down and let his lips ghost over yours. Moans slipped from your mouth into his, and he was bouncing you on his cock so fast you almost couldn’t register to breathe. His breath was hot against your lips, so close he could feel his body shaking, but he needed you to be closer, needed to feel you tightened around him and milk him for everything he was worth.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, he found your clit easily, knowing your body better than anyone ever had. All you could hear in that moment was the sound of the ocean through your screen door and skin slapping against skin. You were so wet and warm and – shit, you were starting to clench around him. He rolled your clit between two fingers, and a whimper slipped out of his mouth when he felt your pussy clamp around his throbbing cock.

He needed to cum and so did you and – fuck, he could feel it, feel you, feel how deep he was inside.

He would do this forever if you asked.

“Fuck, Mingyu, oh my god, right there, right there –” You pleaded in his ear, feeling yourself tip right over that edge –

Then you were cumming.

And so was he.

You moaned his name like it was a prayer, shattering as you came undone. Your walls were squeezing him like a vice, and he was unable to hold himself back anymore, burying himself to the hilt before painting your insides white with his orgasm. Hips jerked, bodies went taunt. You felt your whole being dissolve into nothing but pleasure, molding yourself to him in his arms. When the rush of warmth started to fade and he felt your combined releases seep from between your thighs, he breathed out a sigh of relief, brushing kisses over your jaw.

You weren’t sure you were in your right mind. Everything was so hazy. But you didn’t want to move away just yet. Even when his cock started to go soft inside of you, you stayed connected to him, pushing his hair back from his forehead and whispering praises in his ear like, “You were so good … So good to me … My Mingyu … I’ve always been yours …” You could feel him smiling against your skin, his hands tracing circles on your lower back.

But as time seemed to stop and you felt peace for the first time in a while, you realized just how deep you had fallen. You were drowning in him.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you that it felt exactly like his dreams. If you were drowning in him, he had already sunk to the bottom a long time ago.

Save the Date for the wedding of Nathan Chaney and Your Mother: September 5th

Your mother was remarrying. Her and Nathan had been together since you went off to college, and then got engaged just a year after you graduated. They decided on a long engagement, choosing to plan out a destination wedding in the Caribbean. You thought it was crazy at first, but then your mother said, “If this is going to be my last wedding – and it is – I want to go out with a bang.” You couldn’t exactly blame her. After your dad had cheated and the divorce was finalized, you knew your mother deserved something like this. She deserved the world.

When she had called you just a week before the wedding, babbling on about who you were possibly bringing now that your ex was completely out of the picture, you paused. Holding the phone to your ear and watering one of your half-dead plants with the other, you said, “I’m … I’m going with Mingyu.”

“Vernon?” She asked, not believing what you said.

“Mingyu.”

“Like … the Mingyu from university? The football player?”

You sighed, playing with the dead leaves on the plant. “He was also – and still is – one of Vernon’s good friends.”

“Oh,” your mother said, more surprised than anything. “Well, you better watch for Nathan’s sister. If Mingyu looks anything like how I remember from Family Day, she will go buck wild over him.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” you chuckled.

The truth was … you weren’t exactly sure how this wedding was going to go. Ever since the last one, you had been progressively putting more distance between you and Mingyu. Once again. Your last night together had been so real … too real, and you wanted to save yourself from the heartbreak after this wedding when you never saw him again. As much as you hated to admit it, feelings were now involved, seeping into your bloodstream, until your heart thrummed like the sound of his name on your tongue. 

Slowly pushing him away … it hurt, but it was better this way. Pain was temporary and so was your arrangement. You knew that going into it, so how did you end up in this mess? You remembered what had happened after Chan’s wedding, the way Mingyu looked at you as he was shotgunning smoke into your mouth and – yeah, you knew exactly how you ended up here.

If you kept telling yourself this was for the better, maybe you’d start believing it. Maybe your feelings would drift like smoke and your mother’s wedding would be a final farewell before you two went your separate ways.

But you had been doing that for a month now.

And those feelings refused to fade.

You had an early morning flight the day of your mother’s wedding. Typically, you wouldn’t be getting to a destination wedding on such short notice, but the ceremony was small. So small your mother refused to have a rehearsal dinner and no bridal party. It was about her and Nathan, and you had to respect that she was doing things her way this time around.

You had waited at your gate right before doors closed for Mingyu, since you were on the same flight. But he was clearly running late and you were much too awkward around him now to text him. So you finally got on the plane and found your seat, noticing the one seat in the back still left unoccupied. Once you had landed five hours later, you quickly headed to the hotel that Nathan had booked for the ceremony and reception. Your phone lit up as you hailed a ride.

Mingyu: I’m sorry, I got a new flight 

Mingyu: I’ll be there just 2 hours after you land

Mingyu: I’ll make it for the ceremony. I promise

Feeling his anxiety radiate through your phone, you believed him, and then wondered if maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You were rewarded a few more hours of alone time before you had your last hurrah with Mingyu. Maybe if you buried your feelings deep enough, you wouldn’t tense up the second you saw his face. Maybe if you didn’t look into his eyes, you wouldn’t have the urge to kiss him. Or let him hold your hand. Or spread your legs to welcome him inside –

You dropped your lipgloss onto the bathroom counter, sick of your own thoughts. Your  square-neck, baby blue dress was clinging to every curve, but you felt like you were being suffocated by the fabric. You had just finished doing your hair and makeup, but you couldn’t quite keep your thoughts at bay. Nerves batted against your skull, making your hands shake slightly. What would you do once Mingyu walked in? Would you avoid his stare? Would you tell him immediately how much you liked him and how this wouldn’t work out and you knew you set yourself up for heartbreak –

Maybe you needed a walk.

Grabbing a spare pair of sandals, you headed outside to walk the beach just along the grounds of the hotel. There was still an hour before the ceremony, and you could just see the planners putting finishing touches on the decorations laid out on the shore, where your mother wanted it to take place. Couples were still walking through the water. Kids were making sand castles. The sun was slowly beginning to set and the breeze was whipping your hair off your shoulders.

And you smiled, despite everything you were feeling. Because where there was an end, there would always be a new beginning.

“HEY!”

You spun around, your sandals sinking into the sand. Although you recognized his voice, the last thing you expected to see was Kim Mingyu running towards you in his pristine black tux, his tie loose around his neck and blowing in the breeze. It was like something out of a movie, the kind of movie where there was supposed to be a happy ending, but you knew you weren’t afforded luck like that in real life.

He stopped in front of you, running a hand through his hair. Sand sprinkled down the tops of his shoes.

“When did you get here?” You raised a brow.

“About twenty minutes ago. I flew in my tux because I figured I wouldn’t have enough time to change. But now it just kind of smells like …” He lifted the sleeve to his nose and inhaled. “Like peanuts and old plastic.”

You giggled, holding a hand to your mouth and just … staring at him. He was smiling at you, fangs poking out from under his top lip. His skin was even prettier in the sunset. His hair, despite the messy texture, was effortless and perfect. He embodied sunshine in its purest form.

“Well, you …” You looked to the water, your hands flexing at your sides. “You didn’t need to come find me out here.”

His voice was sweet, soft, like fresh sheets, when he replied, “Yes, I did.” His hand reached out a little, attempting to lace your fingers together, but he stuffed them in his pockets instead. “When I was wondering where you’d be, I remembered something you said to me in college … Do you remember Move-In Day of junior year when we had that bonfire with Vernon and a few other people? You really didn’t enjoy my company back then, but I sat next to you because you agreed to sharing that god awful cheap vodka we used to like.” He laughed when you grimaced. “We got to talking and I asked you, ‘If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?’ And you said something like, ‘I want to be walking on a beach. I’ve always felt the most calm with my toes in wet sand.’”

You blinked, wondering if you had heard him right. He … how did he … “You remember that?”

“I remember a lot of things.”

And there he was, reaching out again and brave enough to brush his fingers over your knuckles. You looked down, watching his hand interlock with yours, and his palms were balmy and calloused. They felt familiar, like home. And you simply couldn’t believe that you had deprived yourself of this.

“Did you mean it when you said, ‘I’ve always been yours?’”

Your head snapped up, tsking under your breath. Hand still intertwined with his, you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. “You came all the way out here to ask me that?” You asked, flustered and agitated.

His brow shot up. “So that’s a yes then?” 

Your mouth opened, but then closed when you realized that he caught you. 

He added, his voice like velvet again, “Then why are you avoiding me? I can sense it.”

“Well, if you’re that sensitive to other people’s feelings than I guess that –” You paused, taking a deep breath as you gathered yourself. Your ears reddened. “Look, I think it’s pretty obvious that I’ve … I like you. A lot. But having feelings for you would be so messy. The last time I went through this, we hooked up and you hardly spoke to me after.”

Mingyu’s brow furrowed. “That was years ago.”

“You know how uncommitted you’ve always been,” you quickly remarked, even though you didn’t fully believe those words anymore. “Weren’t you the one that told me at the start of this that men never really grow up?”

His eyes narrowed a little. “Are you playing psychological warfare with me right now?”

Slipping your fingers away from his, you shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I’ve been your date to five weddings this year. It wasn’t just about losing some bet. I did it for you.” He stared at you incredulously. “Are you really going to hold me to a mistake I made six years ago? When I was a shitty 22-year-old that was terrified to tell the girl I liked for years that I was interested in her?”

“I never … I never thought you liked me back then.”

Mingyu’s gaze softened, and he tucked another curl behind your ear that blew in the wind. “I made you believe that I didn’t because it was easier than admitting my feelings. I was terrified of rejection. And an idiot.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his comment, but you knew this conversation was far from over. “Well, I …” You rubbed at your nose and turned away from him, facing the water that looked almost sapphire in color. The waves sparkled under the setting sun. “Wedding season is over after this and we can both go back to our normal lives. Vernon won’t flip a lid when he sees me texting you all the time and everything will be back to the way it was. I always prepared for you to just forget about me after this anyway.”

“I love Vernon, but this isn’t about him.” Mingyu stepped forward into your line of vision. “What if I don’t want to go back to the way things were?”

Your eyes flickered to his, and it was his turn to step closer again. His large palm cupped your cheek, his skin always so cozy and inviting that you just had to lean into him. Fingertips traced your brow bone as his gaze lingered on your lips.

“I don’t want to forget about you or never see you again. I want to be around you,” he confessed. “I … want to go on more dates with you. I want to be your date to more than just weddings.”

You hesitated, unraveling and dissecting each word in your head, before you came to the conclusion that … oh, my god, he had feelings for you too. Had you always been this much of an absolute moron?

Getting on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you two, your lips crashing onto his like the water against the shoreline. Your body almost suctioned to his, bringing him even closer when your arms wound around his neck. He kept that one hand on your cheek, the other splaying on your lower back, like how he always did when he was nervous. But he had nothing to be nervous about, because you liked him and he liked you. The world felt like it was spinning, but also just right, and his tongue was licking into your mouth enough to make you feel breathless. You could do this forever, be this relaxed in his arms, kiss him as if it was only you two in your own world. And as he tugged on your bottom lip to make your breathing heavy, you decided that your dream had become a reality.

When you broke the kiss, your cheeks were definitely flushed, even under the layer of blush you put on. Mingyu grinned, tilting his head as he whispered, “So you have always been mine then?”

“Such a tease sometimes,” you repeated his fateful words from June. 

You turned, tugging on his hand playfully as the waves begin to lick at the sand near your feet. “C’mon,” you chuckled. “If we’re late to this wedding, my mom will kill me before I can even think about calling you my boyfriend.”

Mingyu had wanted to ask you to marry him only two years later, and thank god, he finally found the words.

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[synity]

ANACONDA

(CEO!Kim Mingyu X FemReader)

(angst, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, CEOAU, tension, longing, emotional conflict. Slow Burn, Drama, Office Romance)

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains themes of emotional abuse, workplace harassment, obsession, manipulation, and trauma. It explores the psychological impact of toxic power dynamics in a professional setting. While the narrative evolves toward healing, love, and empowerment, some scenes may be emotionally triggering or distressing, especially for readers who have experienced similar situations.

Please read with care and prioritize your well-being. You are not alone support is available.

Seoul, 2025. A city bathed in neon lights and ambition, where dreams were sold as easily as they were broken, and success smelled of burnt coffee and long boardroom hours. In the heart of Gangnam, skyscrapers loomed like titans, each one fighting for the crown of supremacy in South Korea’s relentless corporate battlefield.

Among them, the tallest and most notorious belonged to Kim Mingyu, a name spoken with reverence and resentment alike.

Kim Mingyu was ruthless, sharp, and unapologetically dominant. His company, KM Group, had swallowed over five enterprises in the last two years alone. Young, dangerously good-looking, and with more money than entire conglomerates combined, he lived a life that shimmered with excess. Everything he touched turned into profit. His private office was on the 97th floor of the sky-piercing KM Tower, complete with floor-to-ceiling glass, a custom Italian espresso machine, and a cold elegance that mirrored the man himself.

But no one ever talked about how his eyes lingered too long on the skyline at night, as if searching for something more.

A few blocks away, hidden behind slightly worn walls and flickering overhead lights, stood the offices of CS Enterprise. The company had once been a powerhouse respected, solid, but now it struggled to breathe under the weight of debt and missed deadlines. Still, Y/N, the secretary of the infamous CEO Choi Sangmin, showed up every day with ironed shirts and a calm smile.

Y/N wasn’t the type to complain.

She’d grown used to Sangmin’s snide remarks, his impossibly high demands, the way he made her work overtime and then criticized the coffee she made. To the outside world, she was just another employee a paper pusher, a face in the crowd but to anyone who looked closely, she was something rare.

Smart. Composed. Beautiful in an understated way.

People remembered her fox-like eyes sharp, observant, and unreadable and the smile she always wore even when she was clearly exhausted. She carried herself with grace, like someone who had long ago learned how to survive in chaos.

She didn’t believe in love stories. Or fairy tales. Life had shown her otherwise.

It was raining the day their worlds collided.

Y/N had ducked into a small coffee shop off the corner of Samseong-dong, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floors. Her umbrella dripped water near the counter as she ordered a simple iced americano. No whipped cream. No syrup. She didn’t have time for sugar not when Sangmin had sent her on yet another useless errand in the middle of a downpour.

She was soaked, frustrated, and on the verge of snapping.

Meanwhile, Kim Mingyu sat three tables away, hidden behind his laptop and the low hum of jazz music. He wasn’t supposed to be there his driver had taken a wrong turn, and his meeting had been rescheduled. He rarely had time for moments like these. But something about the storm outside had drawn him in.

And then he saw her.

She hadn’t noticed him yet. She was standing by the counter, flipping through her soaked planner, muttering to herself about deadlines and Sangmin’s impossible schedule. Her black blouse clung to her skin slightly from the rain, her hair pinned back in a way that exposed her slender neck, and when she looked up to thank the barista with a small smile.

His heart stopped.

Those eyes. That smile.

There was something about her that unsettled him. He didn’t believe in fate. But in that moment, she looked like something ripped from a life he never got to live.

When she finally glanced around and their eyes met for a second too long, it was as if something had cracked.

And then she turned away and walked out, coffee in hand, her umbrella fluttering back open like a shield.

He didn’t know her name. She didn’t know his. But for the first time in a long time, Mingyu was curious.

He would’ve forgotten. He should’ve. But he didn’t.

The image of her haunted him for days weeks even. He told himself it was nothing. A stranger in a coffee shop. Yet he found himself going back, hoping to see her again.

She never showed.

Not until three weeks later, when CS Enterprise came knocking.

Choi Sangmin’s company was crumbling. Rumors spread like wildfire across corporate Seoul. Investors were pulling out. Stock prices were bleeding red. And finally, in a move no one saw coming, Sangmin reached out to his greatest rival, Kim Mingyu, for help.

A meeting was arranged.

Mingyu sat at the head of a glass boardroom, his fingers steepled, eyes unreadable as Sangmin walked in, carrying false confidence like cheap cologne.

“I need an investor,” he said. “Or a merger.”

Mingyu tilted his head. “Why should I help you?”

And then Sangmin, annoyed and irritated, barked at the glass door, “Y/N! Bring the files in.”

The door opened with a soft click.

Mingyu turned, prepared to dismiss whoever it was.

And the world stopped.

It was her.

The coffee shop girl.

Y/N.

His breath caught in his throat. She stood there in a navy pencil skirt, blouse tucked neatly, a tablet in one hand and a manila folder in the other. Her eyes those same fox eyes met his.

Time slowed. The noise of the room blurred. She blinked once, twice, clearly recognizing him.

But she didn’t falter.

Not even for a second.

She walked forward with practiced elegance, handed him the file, and acted like she didn’t remember him at all.

Something burned in Mingyu’s chest. Confusion? Anger? Interest? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that his heart had started to race.

As she turned to leave, Sangmin snapped, “Wait outside. I might need you again.”

Y/N paused, nodded silently, and stepped back.

Mingyu watched her every move.

His rival’s secretary.

The woman who haunted his dreams.

The girl he never forgot.

And suddenly, this meeting wasn’t about business anymore.

The meeting ended with numbers and fake smiles.

Sangmin left with promises written in fine print, while Mingyu sat silently in his boardroom long after the door had closed, fingers tapping against the polished table as the scent of her perfume still lingered in the air floral, soft, bittersweet.

But it wasn’t just her smile he remembered this time.

It was the way her shoulders had stiffened the moment Sangmin barked her name.

It was the way she kept her eyes downcast after handing over the file.

It was the tight, almost invisible way her fingers clenched the folder.

Something wasn’t right.

In the following days, Mingyu did what he always did best he started watching.

CS Enterprise had requested several follow-up meetings to beg for an investment, and Sangmin made no attempt to hide his desperation. Every time, he brought Y/N along like she was part of his briefcase.

But Mingyu noticed things. Subtle things.

She was the one preparing the documents. She was the one catching errors Sangmin made during presentations. She was the one quietly emailing updates, adjusting schedules, fixing his sloppy work yet Sangmin never thanked her.

He only yelled. He barked. He belittled.

And worse… sometimes, he leered.

One late evening, Mingyu stayed back at the office, pacing in his office with the city glowing beneath him. The lights of Seoul bled through his windows in a kaleidoscope of dreams and failures. Something in him itched, restless, almost furious, and he didn’t understand why until he remembered the moment in the hallway earlier that day.

Y/N had stepped out of the elevator alone, arms full of binders. Mingyu had just rounded the corner when he saw Sangmin press his palm against the wall, cornering her with a smirk.

“You should smile more when you’re around me, sweetheart,” Sangmin had said with a chuckle. “That frown of yours makes people think I’m abusing you.”

She didn’t smile.

She just nodded. Quiet. Composed.

And then Sangmin leaned closer, voice a whisper Mingyu barely caught.

“Don’t act cold with me, Y/N. You owe me too much to act like you’re too good for a little attention.”

It took everything in Mingyu not to punch the wall.

He waited.

And when the next meeting ended, Mingyu took the opportunity to stop her before she left.

“Miss Y/N,” he called, voice smooth but sharp.

She turned, bowing slightly. “Yes, Mr. Kim?”

He could see the way her professionalism clicked into place like armor. Perfect posture. Blank expression. But those eyes flickered with a trace of caution.

He gestured toward his office. “Just a moment, if you don’t mind. I’d like to ask you something privately.”

She hesitated. Her fingers clutched the tablet tighter. “If it’s regarding the CS documents, I’d prefer if my CEO were present.”

“It’s not about the documents.”

Silence.

Then she stepped in.

He closed the door softly behind her.

“Sit,” he offered.

She didn’t.

He admired her defiance, even if it was subtle. There was pride in the way she held herself. Strength in her silence. But he saw the fatigue under her eyes, the exhaustion she tried so hard to conceal.

“I’ll be direct,” he said finally. “I’ve noticed the way Sangmin treats you.”

Her face didn’t change.

“Secretary Y/N,” he continued, more gently this time, “I don’t know what’s keeping you in that position, but if you need help-”

“I don’t.”

Her voice was sharp.

Clear.

Final.

Mingyu blinked. “You don’t?”

She looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t need your pity, Mr. Kim. Whatever you think you’ve seen is none of your business.”

It was the first time she’d spoken to him without the mask of formality. And still, her voice didn’t waver, but her fingers trembled slightly as she held the tablet to her chest.

Mingyu took a deep breath. “It’s not pity.”

“Then what is it?”

“Concern.”

She laughed once short and bitter. “I’m just a secretary. You’re the most powerful CEO in Seoul. We’re not in the same world.”

He stepped closer.

“You’re right. You’re not just a secretary. That’s exactly the problem. You do everything. You run his entire company behind the scenes, and he treats you like trash.”

She didn’t answer.

“You deserve better,” he added softly.

A long silence stretched between them. His words hovered in the air like fragile glass too delicate to hold, too painful to drop.

Finally, she turned toward the door.

“I appreciate your concern, but I have to go,” she whispered.

“Miss Y/N”

She stopped.

And when she looked back, her eyes shimmered with something between sadness and pride.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing better. We just survive.”

Then she left.

Mingyu stood in his office, fists clenched, heart pounding.

He didn’t know when it happened, but somewhere between that rainy coffee shop and now, he’d started to care too much.

And he wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing anymore.

Even if it meant breaking her pride, ruining her loyalty and waging war with her boss.

Because Kim Mingyu had never lost a battle.

And this time, his heart was on the front line.

(Y/N’s Point of View)

Silence had a sound.

It was the low hum of the air vent in the corner of the room. The ticking of the cracked clock on the wall. The soft click of her keyboard as she typed with aching fingers. It was past 1 AM. The office was empty. The only light that remained spilled from her cubicle a dim, artificial glow that couldn’t warm the ice in her chest.

She should go home. But home didn’t exist anymore. Not when her life revolved around a man who tore pieces of her apart day by day.

Choi Sangmin.

CEO of CS Enterprise. Her boss. Her tormentor.

She had once believed in loyalty. In working hard. In respect. But that belief had become a prison. A sick, invisible chain around her neck, pulling tighter each time she dared to look up.

She was finishing the quarterly analysis when the door slammed.

Her blood froze.

Heavy, angry footsteps.

He was drunk again.

She could smell it before she even turned around the bitter stench of whiskey and rage.

“You’re still here?” he snapped.

Y/N stood quickly, brushing the dust off her skirt, bowing slightly. “I was just finishing the-”

“You think I give a damn what you’re finishing?”

His voice sliced through her spine. She didn’t speak. She knew better.

Sangmin staggered closer, eyes bloodshot, tie loose and mouth twisted into a sneer. He grabbed a mug from her desk and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall.

She flinched. Hard.

“I asked you to re-do the financial forecast two hours ago,” he growled. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you skipped the client losses?”

“I didn’t skip them,” she whispered. “I was double-checking the figures-”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me.” He raised his voice. He always raised his voice before

Slap.

Her head whipped to the side.

Her cheek burned. She staggered back. The room spun.

“You act like you’re indispensable,” Sangmin hissed. “Let me remind you you’re a replaceable pawn. Just a pretty face with a weak spine.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. He hated when she cried. He fed on it.

He stepped closer.

“Why would you make me the villain on the story huh? I’ve always wanted you and you know it” His hand slammed down on the desk beside her, making her jump. “I made you. Everything you have is because of me.”

“No,” she said quietly, trembling. “I worked for it.”

Wrong answer.

His fist came down on her laptop.

The screen cracked in half, sparks flickering before it died completely. She gasped softly, and his face twisted in satisfaction.

“You work because I allow you to. You breathe in this office because I let you.”

He grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her toward him. “If you ever roll your eyes at me in another meeting again, I’ll rip your contract and blacklist you from every firm in Seoul.”

She yanked her hand back.

It took everything in her. Every ounce of courage left.

“I’m not scared of you,” she lied.

He laughed, then stepped away slowly, mockingly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and vile. “But don’t forget who signs your paychecks.”

With that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

She didn’t move.

The ringing in her ears wouldn’t stop. Her laptop lay in pieces. Her documents were soaked in spilled coffee. Her skin stung. Her chest felt hollow.

She stared at her reflection in the glass partition messy hair, red cheek, eyes swollen with shame.

Not sadness.

Shame.

How had she let it get this far?

How had she let herself rot in this cage?

She wanted to scream. But there was no one to scream to. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want to give him that. Not even in private.

So instead, she sank to the floor, legs folded, head in her hands. Her silent sobs were the only sound in the room. No one would find her. No one ever stayed this late.

No one ever saw her.

She was invisible but not invincible.

And maybe… Maybe tomorrow, she wouldn’t survive another slap. Maybe next time, he wouldn’t just break her laptop. Maybe next time, he’d break her.

But she would never ask for help. Not yet.

Because asking for help meant admitting she was weak. And she still wanted to believe she was strong.

Even if she was dying inside.

The hallway outside her apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

Even the buzzing streetlights seemed to dim in her presence as if they, too, were ashamed to witness her like this.

Y/N fumbled with her keys, hands trembling so badly the metal scraped against the doorknob. She dropped them once. Twice. Her fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Her breath came in ragged bursts, and the silence behind her felt like a pair of invisible eyes watching her crumble.

Finally, the door opened.

And the second she stepped inside, she locked it.

Click.

Click

Chain.

Bolt.

Like it would protect her from the memories still crawling on her skin.

Her apartment was dark and still the same as always. The little lavender-scented candle on the counter. The pile of untouched books on the nightstand. Her favorite sweater folded neatly on the chair. Everything looked normal. Safe.

But she wasn’t.

She stood in the middle of the room like a stranger in her own life.

Her heels dropped from her hands to the floor. She kicked them away like they were a threat. Her coat followed, then her bag. Her fingers reached for the light switch, but stopped halfway.

No. She didn’t want to see herself right now.

She walked through the dark instead slow, barefoot, shaking until she reached the mirror in the bathroom.

And when she looked up

She didn’t recognize herself.

Her cheek was still red. A small cut along her jaw. Mascara smudged in streaks under her wide, glassy eyes. Her blouse was wrinkled and stained with coffee. Her bottom lip was bleeding slightly from where she’d bitten it to keep from screaming.

She looked… hollow.

A ghost of who she used to be.

She stared. And stared. And stared. Waiting for the tears to come.

But they didn’t.

There was nothing left.

She turned on the faucet, cupped water in her hands, and washed her face. The cold shocked her skin, but it didn’t fix anything. It couldn’t.

Nothing could.

She peeled off her blouse and skirt and changed into her oversized t-shirt the one she always wore when she was sick or hurting. Then she sat on the floor beside her bed, legs pulled to her chest, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like armor.

And that’s when she whispered:

“What am I doing?”

Three words that broke something inside her.

She had once dreamed of becoming something great. Of building a name for herself. Of standing on her own two feet, respected and proud. She had worked harder than anyone in her class. Graduated top of her year. Taken job offers no one else would even consider just for the chance to climb.

She had survived every cold winter in Seoul alone, eating instant ramen and budgeting electricity bills just to afford her rent. She had skipped meals, ignored illness, and put every ounce of strength into her job.

For what?

To be broken by a man who saw her as a puppet?

To be slapped in the face, screamed at in boardrooms, humiliated in front of clients?

She curled tighter into herself.

“Why didn’t I leave?” she whispered.

Because she couldn’t.

Because she had nowhere else to go. Because pride didn’t feed you. Because silence was easier than scandal. Because the corporate world protected men like him.

And because the world was cruel to women who made noise.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked at the screen.

It was a message from her boss.

"Report due 7AM. Fix your attitude."

No apology. No remorse. Not even an attempt to pretend he hadn’t just hit her.

She stared at the screen, hands shaking again.

And for a moment Just a moment She imagined throwing the phone against the wall. Quitting. Disappearing.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she placed it on silent, turned it over, and buried her face in the pillow.

And there, in the suffocating dark, she let herself cry. Really cry. Ugly, shaking sobs that ripped out of her like a storm.

She cried for the girl she used to be. The girl who thought hard work protected you. The girl who smiled too politely and bowed too deeply and kept her mouth shut too long.

She cried until her throat was raw and her voice was gone.

And then

She stopped.

Wiped her tears. Took a deep breath.

And whispered to herself:

“Just one more day.”

Because that’s how survival worked.

One day at a time. Until something anything changed.

(Mingyu's Point of View)

There were two things Kim Mingyu knew better than anyone:

Business. And people.

He had built an empire by trusting his gut. Stock markets could lie. Competitors could bluff. But people their eyes, their habits, their energy they never lied for long.

And right now, something wasn’t right.

He sat in the boardroom, flipping through the latest proposal Sangmin had submitted a desperate attempt to keep CS Enterprise from crumbling but his mind wasn’t on the numbers.

It was on her.

Y/N.

She wasn’t there.

She was always there.

Every single meeting, every scheduled appointment, trailing behind Sangmin with a stack of files clutched tightly to her chest. Always quiet. Always efficient. Always professional even when her boss barked at her like she wasn’t human.

But today? She was gone.

No call. No show. No one mentioned her.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The last time he’d seen her just three days ago she’d looked… different.

Worn out. Pale. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her hands had been shaking when she passed him the report. And she’d avoided his gaze completely, like eye contact might unravel her.

Something had twisted in his chest then, but he hadn’t known why.

Now he did.

He clicked his pen rhythmically against the table as Sangmin rambled across from him, practically begging with flowery business language. Mingyu wasn’t even listening. He was watching the empty seat next to him the one Y/N usually occupied.

She always sat small. Like she didn’t want to be noticed. But Mingyu always noticed her.

Especially her eyes. Those soft fox-like eyes they’d haunted him ever since the first time they met at that café downtown.

He remembered the gentle way she’d stirred her coffee, how her smile had curled shyly when she caught him staring. She hadn’t known who he was, and he hadn’t known she was Sangmin’s secretary. Just two strangers, brushing past fate like it meant nothing.

God, he wished he’d asked her name that day.

But now… he knew too much. And yet, not enough.

Because her absence today?

Felt wrong.

He knew Sangmin was a monster in the quiet ways. The kind of man who wrapped his cruelty in politeness when the cameras were on. Mingyu had seen glimpses. The demeaning way he snapped his fingers. How he called Y/N “the girl” instead of her name. The veiled threats masked as jokes.

But now?

He felt it in his bones.

Something had happened.

He cleared his throat, interrupting Sangmin mid-pitch.

“Your secretary,” Mingyu said flatly. “She’s usually with you.”

Sangmin froze. Just for a beat.

Then forced a smile. “Y/N’s feeling under the weather. Probably a cold. She’s… delicate.”

Delicate?

Mingyu’s jaw tightened.

“I see,” he said. But he didn’t.

Because Y/N wasn’t delicate.

She was strong.

He’d seen it

in the way she stood through verbal attacks without flinching, how she carried two dozen files without complaint, how she took notes in perfect detail even while being dismissed.

No. She wasn’t fragile. She was just tired.

And Mingyu had a terrible feeling that her “cold” was really something darker.

The meeting ended. Papers were signed. Promises were made. But Mingyu’s mind stayed on her.

Back in his office, he loosened his tie and stared out the tall glass windows.

He had no right to care. She wasn’t his. Hell, she wasn’t even an employee of his company.

But there was something in him that refused to let this go.

He opened his laptop and pulled up internal contacts. Her name wouldn’t be there she worked for Sangmin but maybe he could find the café where they’d met. Or maybe

He paused.

Why was he doing this?

Why did it bother him this much?

Because she had smiled at him once and it had felt like sunlight. Because in a world full of wolves in suits, she was soft-spoken truth. Because even when her voice shook, she still stood tall.

And because he couldn’t stand the thought of her being hurt.

Not when he could stop it.

Mingyu didn’t sleep that night.

He tried.

He laid in bed, suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, the city lights blinking outside his penthouse window but his mind wouldn’t slow down. His thoughts spun in quiet circles, always returning to the same thing.

Y/N.

The seat she should’ve filled. The smile she didn’t wear. The way Sangmin had called her delicate, like she was a burden instead of a person.

It made his blood boil.

He wasn’t one to obsess not like this. He was always polite, always calm, the kind of CEO who made time for every employee, who brought birthday cake to the breakroom and remembered names and favorite drinks. He was professional. Reasonable.

But this? This felt personal.

By morning, he had made up his mind.

At first, he tried the polite route. Called CS Enterprise directly. Asked if she was available.

“She’s out sick,” the receptionist replied. “Still resting at home.”

Still.

Still.

His grip tightened on the phone.

He thanked her, then hung up.

Not good enough.

Sangmin hadn’t even bothered to show concern. Hadn’t mentioned sending flowers. Or checking in. Or asking if she needed anything.

If Mingyu didn’t know better, he’d think her boss was hoping she wouldn’t come back.

Which was exactly why

He had to find her.

It took two calls and a little bit of digging, but eventually he found her address. Technically, it was company property listed under CS Enterprise some old studio apartment they gave junior employees on a temporary basis.

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going.

Just grabbed his coat and left, heart pounding louder with every block the car passed.

The building was small, tucked between two laundromats, and older than it should’ve been. Cracks in the bricks. Rust on the intercom. He rang the bell three times.

No answer.

He stared up at the window.

Curtains drawn.

He rang again.

Still nothing.

He almost gave up.

But then He saw her.

Barely.

Just a glimpse of her silhouette moving past the curtains. But it was enough.

His breath caught. He stepped back from the door, afraid of scaring her.

“Y/N,” he called softly, voice laced with concern. “It’s me. Mingyu.”

Silence.

He waited.

Then, slowly… the door cracked open.

Only a little.

And there she was.

Hair loose. Eyes tired and guarded. A sweater too big for her frame. Her face was bare, but beautiful even now. Especially now.

His heart broke.

“Hi,” he breathed. “You… you okay?”

She blinked. Didn’t answer.

Of course she didn’t. What was she supposed to say?

No, I’m not okay?

No, my boss hit me and humiliated me?

No, I can’t breathe anymore in this world?

Instead, she looked down.

He stepped back, respectful.

“I’m sorry for just showing up. I just la I’ve been worried. You weren’t at the meeting. You’ve never missed one.”

She still said nothing.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said gently, “but… I know something isn’t right.”

Her eyes flickered. Her grip tightened on the doorframe.

He took a breath. Then said what had been building in his chest for days:

“Y/N. Leave him.”

She froze.

He stepped a little closer not enough to threaten. Just enough so she’d hear the tremble in his voice.

“Please,” he whispered. “I don’t know what that bastard did, but I know he doesn’t respect you. I see the way he treats you. It’s not normal. It’s not okay. It’s not” his voice cracked, “it’s not what you deserve.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly.

He saw them anyway.

“I’ve been thinking about you nonstop,” he admitted, finally dropping the shield. “Since the coffee shop. Since that stupid meeting. And I know I don’t know everything, but if you worked for me” he paused, heart hammering, “I would treat you like a human. Like someone worth listening to. I would protect you.”

She looked away.

“I’d never shout at you. Or order you around like you’re nothing. I’d make sure you took breaks. Ate lunch. Slept. Laughed. I’d never make you feel small.”

Still, she didn’t open the door.

So he whispered one last thing:

“If you were mine… I’d treat you right.”

The words hung heavy between them.

Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. She looked like she wanted to speak to scream, to cry, to collapse but pride held her in place.

Then

The door closed gently in his face.

Not slammed. Just… closed.

Mingyu stared at the wood for a long time.

And for the first time in years, the man who had built an empire, won every negotiation, and stood above the world

Felt completely helpless.

After the door closed softly, Mingyu stood on the cracked concrete steps, heart pounding in frustration and worry. He wanted to shout, to knock again, but he held himself back. He knew pushing too hard would only scare her away.

So, instead, he did the only thing he could.

He pulled out his phone.

“Y/N it’s Mingyu. I’m sorry for coming unannounced. But please know I mean every word. I’m here when you’re ready. You don’t have to face this alone.”

He stared at the message long after pressing send, hoping she would read it.

Minutes turned to hours.

No reply.

Mingyu’s phone buzzed. It was a colleague from his company.

“Boss, the meeting with Sangmin just got moved up. He wants to talk to you ASAP.”

Mingyu glanced out the window, thinking of Y/N alone in that dim apartment.

He made a decision.

Work could wait.

He was going back.

The next day, Mingyu stopped by the coffee shop where they first met.

The barista smiled when she saw him. “You’re looking for her, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Do you know if she’s been coming here?”

“She hasn’t been around in a few days. But you should leave a note, just in case.”

Mingyu scribbled a quick note on a card:

Y/N, I’m not giving up. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. You deserve better.

He left it with the barista and walked out, a little lighter but still aching.

Over the next weeks, Mingyu sent messages gentle, kind, never demanding.

He sent flowers to her office (with a note: For strength when you need it.) He asked his people to watch out for her, making sure no one bullied or pushed her further.

No matter how many times she closed the door in his face literally and figuratively Mingyu stayed.

Because some things were worth fighting for. Because sometimes, all someone needs is to know they’re not alone.

And Mingyu knew:

Y/N was worth everything.

Days turned into weeks, and still no word from Y/N.

Mingyu’s usual confidence was tested like never before. He was used to commanding boardrooms, making deals, and controlling every variable but Y/N was a mystery he couldn’t crack, a gentle flame just out of reach.

Every morning, he made it a point to check in. Not to demand or rush, but just to let her know she was seen.

Good morning, Y/N. Hope today brings you a moment of peace. If you need anything, I’m only a call away. Remember to eat today. You’re stronger than you think.

Sometimes, he’d walk past her office building, pretending it was coincidence. His eyes would scan the windows, hoping for a glimpse of her.

His coworkers noticed.

“Boss, you’re always checking for her. Doesn’t that distract you?” He just smiled softly. “She’s not just anyone.”

One evening, he left a small package at her doorstep: a plush blanket, a book of poetry, and a handwritten note.

For the cold nights when you feel alone. I hope you find warmth somewhere even if it’s just in these words.

He didn’t expect a reply.

But what he did get was a small change.

The next day, a faint smile from the barista when he dropped by, saying, “She asked about you today.”

It was progress.

Slow.

Fragile.

But real.

Mingyu reminded himself that sometimes love wasn’t a blazing fire sometimes it was a quiet, steady flame that refused to go out.

And he was ready to wait as long as it took.

It was a quiet evening when it happened.

Y/N sat curled on her small couch, the weight of days pressing down like stones on her chest. Her hands trembled as memories of Sangmin’s harsh words and cold touches swirled in her mind, each one a sting, each one a bruise she hid behind her forced smiles and sharp silence.

Her phone vibrated softly on the table. A message from Mingyu:

I’m outside. I don’t want to rush you, but if you want to talk, I’m here.

Her breath hitched.

For the first time in weeks, the loneliness felt unbearable.

Her fingers hesitated, then dialed.

When Mingyu’s voice came through warm, steady, gentle she felt tears spill over like a dam breaking.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Say whatever you want,” Mingyu replied softly. “I’m listening.”

And so she did.

The truth tumbled out the fear, the pain, the exhaustion of pretending everything was fine.

The nights she cried alone. The fear of going back to the office. The way Sangmin’s eyes darkened when she hesitated. How small and invisible she felt.

Mingyu didn’t interrupt. He just listened. And when she finished, he spoke his voice unwavering.

“You’re not alone anymore. Not with me.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh through tears. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”

He smiled, though she couldn’t see it. “You deserve so much more than you think.”

That night, something shifted.

The walls she’d built around her heart began to crumble because sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is let someone in.

The sleek glass door slid open with a soft click.

Y/N stepped inside, taking in the polished marble floors, the hum of printers, and the occasional laughter echoing from coworkers on break.

At the center of the storm sat Mingyu, fingers flying over his keyboard, brows furrowed in focus. His usual crisp suit was perfectly tailored, his presence commanding yet calm.

She cleared her throat softly.

He looked up, surprised but quickly masking it with a composed nod.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, voice steady.

Y/N smiled wryly and leaned against the doorframe. “You never give up, do you? Like a puppy that just won’t quit.”

Mingyu’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of amusement and warmth. “Guilty as charged. But only when it comes to things I care about.”

She took a hesitant step inside, letting the noise of the office bubble around her laughter, casual chatter, the click of heels on the floor.

“It’s different here,” she admitted quietly. “You all seem… happy.”

Mingyu closed his laptop gently, giving her his full attention. “People work hard, but they’re treated well. That makes all the difference.”

Y/N’s gaze softened, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu stood, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just getting started.”

They sat across from each other in Mingyu’s office the sunlight cutting clean lines through the blinds, the distant hum of conversation outside like background music.

Mingyu had offered her tea, but Y/N barely touched it. Her fingers played with the rim of the cup, her eyes scanning the floor, his desk, anywhere but his face.

Until finally, she looked up.

“I… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she said softly.

Mingyu tilted his head, giving her his full attention.

“That night,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “When you came to my door… and said, ‘If you were mine, I’d treat you better.’”

She paused, swallowing.

“What did you mean by that?”

A silence settled in the room, thick and trembling.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes locked onto hers not flinching, not dodging.

“I meant exactly what I said,” he replied quietly. “That if I had the chance if you were mine I’d never let you feel worthless. Never let you cry yourself to sleep. Never let anyone speak to you like you’re disposable.”

Y/N's breath caught in her throat.

He continued, voice steady but filled with emotion, “I wouldn’t just be your boss. I’d be your partner. I’d lift you up, not push you down. Respect you, admire you, and never stop reminding you how incredible you are. Not because you’re useful. But because you’re you.”

She stared at him, stunned into silence.

The air between them crackled with something unspoken not lust, not romance, not yet but something far more fragile and sacred.

A promise.

Y/N’s voice was just a whisper. “You’re not like him.”

“No,” Mingyu said. “And I never will be.”

Y/N never believed someone like Kim Mingyu could exist not in her world, at least.

He was the type of man she thought only existed in fiction. But the more she saw of him, the more real he became.

She’d seen him serious eyes like steel when he led meetings, voice cutting through silence with precision.

She’d seen him joyful breaking into a crooked grin as he played with office interns during lunch breaks, folding paper airplanes with the interns like a child.

She’d seen him silly pouting when his favorite snack ran out in the vending machine or doing little dances when he won a deal.

And she’d seen him… soft.

Always soft with her.

Never once had he raised his voice, even when he was frustrated. He wasn’t perfect, but he was safe.

And that, more than anything, made her heart slowly, quietly fall for him.

It was different from infatuation. It wasn’t dramatic or explosive.

It was in the way she felt calmer when he was around. The way her smile lingered longer after reading his messages. The way her nightmares stopped haunting her when he simply said, "You’re not alone anymore."

But love, too, meant courage.

And so she went back.

To that office.

To the cage.

Choi Sangmin didn’t even look up when she entered. His voice was sharp.

“You’re late.”

She stepped forward, chin high but hands clenched in her coat. “I came to give my resignation.”

Silence.

He looked up slowly. His smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I’m done,” she said, firmer this time. “I won’t let you control me anymore.”

Something shifted in his expression. Gone was the feigned charm. Gone was the aloof CEO.

What stood before her was obsession. And danger.

“You think you can just leave me?” he hissed, standing from behind the desk. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. Years.”

Her stomach churned.

“I watched you smile at everyone else but me. Watched you run to that puppy-eyed rival of mine”

“Stop,” she whispered, taking a step back.

Sangmin rounded the desk, his eyes wild. “He’ll throw you away. I never would. I waited. You owe me. You’re mine.”

And then he reached for her.

His hand gripped her wrist, pulling her forward roughly. She yelped, trying to wrench away.

“I should’ve done this a long time ago”

But before he could lean closer, she slapped him.

Hard.

The sound echoed in the room like thunder.

She wrenched free, chest heaving, eyes wet and burning.

“You don’t love me,” she said. “You want to own me. That’s not love. That’s cruelty.”

She turned and ran.

Out of the office. Out of the building. Out of the prison he had tried to trap her in.

And as her tears fell, all she could think of was Mingyu the man who never forced, never pulled, never claimed her like property.

He just… stayed.

And now, she needed to see him.

The glass doors of Choi Enterprises slid open with a mechanical hush as Y/N stumbled out into the cold daylight.

She wasn’t even fully aware of where she was going. Her hands trembled in her pockets, her breath uneven, chest tight. Every step away from him felt like a war she barely had the strength to fight.

Her skin still crawled from his touch.

Her soul still screamed from what he said.

You’re mine.

The street was bustling, but it was all a blur until her shoulder hit something firm, solid, and real.

And suddenly, strong hands steadied her.

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped up.

Kim Mingyu.

Tall. Warm. Alarmed. And very much there.

His brows furrowed instantly as his eyes scanned her messy hair, smudged mascara, a trembling lip she was desperately trying to bite back.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice thick with worry. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Her throat was raw. Her eyes wide. Her body shaking.

Then his expression changed as if something heavy clicked into place.

His gaze lifted past her.

And landed on the man stepping out of the building behind her.

Choi Sangmin.

His tie was loose, his collar undone, and his lips were curled in a smug, victorious smirk.

Mingyu’s body went still.

Dead still.

His hand on Y/N’s back twitched not from hesitation, but from pure, explosive rage slowly boiling under his skin.

For the first time ever, Kim Mingyu wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t soft. He wasn’t boyish.

He was silent fire.

Y/N noticed the change in him, and her fingers gripped his coat. “Please don’t, Mingyu, don’t cause a scene…”

But he didn’t even look at her.

His eyes were glued to the man who hurt her.

The man who dared to put hands on her.

The man who called her his.

“I need you to stay right here,” Mingyu said softly. Gently. But it was the gentleness before a storm.

Y/N grabbed his wrist. “Please, just let it go-“

“No,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in silk. “He crossed the line.”

He turned, walking toward Sangmin with slow, controlled steps. Like a lion who didn’t need to roar to be feared.

Sangmin chuckled as Mingyu approached. “Wow. Kim Mingyu, stepping off his golden throne for a secretary? How noble.”

“You put your hands on her,” Mingyu said quietly, eyes dark. “You pushed her. Cornered her. You thii would let it slide?”

Sangmin sneered. “She was confused. I was helping her.”

Mingyu stepped closer. “You think that’s love? Obsession. Possession. Manipulation. That’s what you call love?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sangmin hissed. “She’s been mine from the beginning.”

“She’s not a prize,” Mingyu snapped, his voice rising. “She’s not yours to own. She’s a person. And if you ever touch her again, or speak her name with that filth in your voice, I’ll personally make sure your name disappears from every boardroom in this country.”

Sangmin scoffed. “You wouldn’t-”

“I would,” Mingyu growled, eyes blazing. “You think because I’m polite, I’m weak? Because I smile, I won’t burn you to the ground?”

He leaned in, voice low and venomous.

“You touched someone I care about. That’s the only warning you’ll ever get.”

Sangmin stared back, face twitching, jaw clenched but something in him faltered.

Because this wasn’t puppy Mingyu.

This was a man protecting someone like his life depended on it.

Mingyu turned on his heel and walked back, his coat fluttering behind him like a cape, like armor.

Y/N stood frozen where he’d left her, heart hammering.

He said nothing at first just gently shrugged off his own coat and draped it around her trembling shoulders. The warmth of it, the scent of him and safety made her finally breathe again.

His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t ask where.

Because when he said home, it didn’t sound like a place.

It sounded like him.

Mingyu’s penthouse was the kind of place people only saw in magazines. High ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A skyline that glittered like stardust. Expensive art. Sculpted furniture.

But none of that registered with Y/N when she walked in.

All she felt… was safe.

Mingyu didn’t say anything. He didn’t push. He didn’t demand answers or explanations.

He just held her coat open gently, helping her slip out of it. Then he handed her a hoodie his hoodie soft, oversized, and impossibly warm.

“You can shower first if you want,” he said, voice quiet. “There’s a towel in there, and I’ll bring you something to drink.”

She nodded, still shaking a little. Her voice refused to come out, but her eyes… her eyes said everything.

He watched her disappear into the bathroom. And when the door closed, Mingyu finally let out the breath he had been holding in since the moment he saw her break outside that building.

He clenched his fists.

What the hell did Sangmin do to her…?

Fifteen minutes passed. She came out in his hoodie and sweatpants that were hilariously too long for her. Her damp hair fell around her face, and the soft cotton of the hoodie swallowed her small frame.

“Cute,” he said without thinking, holding back a smile. “You look so adorable.”

She sat on the couch, hugging her knees. “I feel like a ghost.”

He walked over, sat beside her, and without a word, pulled her into his chest.

Just wrapped his strong arms around her like she could disappear if he let go.

She buried her face in his chest, and for a long moment, they didn’t move.

His heartbeat was steady. Loud. Real.

Her trembling stopped slowly.

He leaned down and whispered near her temple, “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you here.”

Y/N clutched the fabric of his hoodie. “Why are you being so kind to me?”

He pulled back just enough to look at her. “Because you deserve kindness. Because no one should treat you like you’re disposable. Because I saw you standing under rainclouds, and I want to be your sun.”

That’s when her eyes filled again.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

“I was so scared,” she whispered. “He didn’t let me go. He kept saying I was his. Like I was just… something on a shelf.”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened, but he stayed calm for her.

He gently cupped her cheeks and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “You’re not an object, Y/N. You’re brilliant. Funny. Gorgeous. You’re light.”

She looked up at him.

And in that moment, with all the soft lamps behind them, and the city glittering beyond the window, he looked like something divine.

“I meant it,” he said gently. “That night… when I said, ‘If you were mine, I’d treat you better.’ I didn’t just mean better than him. I meant better than the world.”

He leaned in slowly, and gave her every second to pull away.

She didn’t.

Their lips met in the softest kiss like silk brushing against silk. Gentle, comforting, warm. A promise disguised as touch.

Not hunger.

Not desperation.

Just care.

When they broke apart, he kept his forehead against hers and whispered, “You can stay here tonight. Or as long as you want. Even forever.”

Y/N laughed softly through her tears. “You’re like a baby in a giant man’s body.”

“I am your baby tho,” he pouted dramatically, already wrapping his arms around her again. “I need cuddles. And affection. And you by my side.”

She giggled, really giggled, and he beamed proudly.

He grabbed a plushie from his couch a ridiculous pink penguin and shoved it in her arms. “This is Poongie. He’s been guarding my house since college.”

“You named your plushie?”

“Shut up, he has feelings.”

He dragged her to the oversized couch, made her lie down, then snuggled up beside her like a giant puppy demanding attention. His legs were too long, his arms were everywhere, and he was clingier than static in winter.

“Let’s play twenty questions,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “But I only ask you the questions I wanna know.”

“That’s not how the game works”

“Shhhh.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling.

And as he lay beside her, arms wrapped around her waist like he’d never let her go, she realized something:

For the first time in a long time… she wasn’t afraid.

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Mingyu’s penthouse, casting golden light across the hardwood floor.

Y/N stirred in the plush cocoon of his couch, the scent of fresh espresso and caramelized sugar drifting through the air. She blinked slowly, and when her eyes adjusted, she saw him barefoot in a black hoodie and sweats, messy bed hair, humming to himself as he flipped pancakes in the kitchen.

He noticed her gaze instantly.

His whole face lit up. “Good morning, sunshine.”

She sat up, brushing her hair back, cheeks warm. “You’re actually cooking?”

He stuck out his tongue. “Hey. I may look expensive, but I make mean banana pancakes. With chocolate chips, because healing requires chocolate.”

He brought over a plate and set it on the coffee table like a proud kid. “Taste test?”

Y/N smiled for the first time that morning and took a bite. “…Okay, this is actually amazing.”

“I accept apologies in pancake form.”

She giggled.

Mingyu watched her for a second too long, like he still couldn’t believe she was here in his home, in his hoodie, smiling like the world didn’t almost destroy her a day ago.

But that moment of peace didn’t last long.

Buzz.

Her phone, still stuffed in her bag from yesterday, suddenly lit up on the kitchen counter.

She hadn’t turned it off.

Mingyu glanced at the screen.

His chest tightened.

The caller ID said “CEO Choi Sangmin.”

Her body went rigid.

Her fingers curled into her sleeves, and her breathing hitched.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He didn’t touch it. Didn’t reach for it. Just walked to her side, sat beside her, and gently wrapped his arms around her again.

“Block him,” Mingyu said softly. “You don’t owe him anything. Not an answer. Not a goodbye. Nothing.”

Y/N swallowed hard. Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone. She stared at the screen.

The call ended.

But within seconds…

A message arrived.

Sangmin: You think hiding behind that man makes you safe? I made you. You’re mine. Come back, and I’ll pretend this didn’t happen.

Her hands dropped the phone like it burned her.

Mingyu picked it up, eyes scanning the message.

His jaw clenched. His body stiffened. “He’s insane.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “He has so much power. So many connections. If I fight back-”

“I’ll protect you.”

Her head snapped toward him. “Mingyu-”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re not going to live in fear. You didn’t deserve any of what he did to you. And he doesn’t own you.”

His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away the single tear that escaped. “You’re not going back there. Ever. And he’s never touching you again. I swear it on my name.”

“But… I worked there for so long. All my records, my personal info he has access to everything.”

“Not anymore,” Mingyu said.

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated… then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek black USB.

“I’ve already had my legal team start gathering things. Paper trails. Employee statements. Audio files. Even stuff from board members who resigned over his behavior.”

Her lips parted in shock.

He looked down, sheepish. “I started digging the night I saw you cry. Something told me there was more behind your silence. I had to know. I needed to know.”

Tears brimmed again, but they didn’t fall.

She took the USB gently from his hand.

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I did,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Because if someone hurt you, and I did nothing… then who am I?”

A long silence settled between them.

Y/N exhaled slowly, fingers clutching the USB like it was hope in physical form.

“He’ll come for me,” she said softly. “He always does.”

“Then let him try,” Mingyu said, gaze fierce. “Because this time, you’re not facing him alone.”

Monday 05 July 2025

The boardroom was colder than usual.

Sterile white walls, the polished glass table reflecting the fluorescent lights like a mirror.

Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest as she followed Mingyu inside.

Her palms were sweaty, but Mingyu’s hand found hers beneath the table, steadying.

At the far end sat Sangmin, eyes sharp, lips curling into a smug smile that didn’t reach them.

“So,” Sangmin said smoothly, voice calm but dripping with menace, “You’ve brought your CEO to play bodyguard, Y/N?”

Mingyu didn’t flinch.

He sat down confidently, his gaze locking with Sangmin’s without a hint of intimidation.

“This isn’t a game, Sangmin,” Mingyu said, voice low but lethal. “You’ve crossed lines that won’t be ignored.”

Y/N swallowed, then took a shaky breath.

“I’m here to resign,” she said, voice stronger than she felt. “Effective immediately.”

Sangmin laughed, cold and sharp.

“You think I’ll let you go that easily?”

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

“I own everything connected to you—your work, your reputation, your future. Walking away isn’t an option.”

Mingyu’s voice cut through the tension.

“You don’t own her. Not her past, not her present, and certainly not her future.”

Sangmin’s smile twisted.

“You really think you can protect her? From me?”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened.

“I’m not just going to protect her,” he said. “I’m going to expose you. Every dirty secret, every abuse, every threat.”

He slid a thick file across the table.

Sangmin’s eyes flicked to it.

Inside were testimonies, audio recordings, emails proof Mingyu’s team had painstakingly collected.

“You’ve been hiding for too long,” Mingyu said.

Sangmin slammed his fist on the table, voice rising.

“You’ll regret this. All of you.”

Mingyu didn’t back down.

His eyes softened as they flicked to Y/N.

“Do you want to say anything?”

Y/N swallowed her fear and met Sangmin’s gaze.

“I’m not afraid anymore.”

A silence fell.

Then Sangmin stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly.

“This isn’t over.”

Mingyu stood too, blocking Sangmin’s path.

“No, it’s over.”

He motioned to Y/N.

“Let’s go home.”

Y/N looked at Mingyu, her heart pounding not with fear, but with something new.

Hope.

Strength.

Love.

Together, they walked out of the room, leaving Sangmin behind.

[cherry-hulu]

— PCD (Pre Concert Dick)

Synopsis: The boys had a problem that badly needed a solution. It was getting out of hand and silicones simply wont do the trick anymore. What was this problem you ask? Boners.

Warnings: Idol!Seungcheol-Mingyu-Wonwoo x staff!reader, threesome, double penetration, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

The adrenaline rushes through their veins as they prepare for the stage. Everything was ready and set in place, all that's needed were the stars of the show. But the roles were reversed and it was the artists who was experiencing the technical difficulties.

A few members, namely: Seungcheol, Wonwoo, and Mingyu, were experiencing problems. They all had a boner and it was stopping them from wearing their pants properly. The situation was laughable really, the trio was getting teased left and right but they were left to do nothing but groan in pain as their pants hung low. Turns out exercise, sex talks, and adrenaline was not a good mix to have before a concert.

A strict boundary is usually set between the artist and the staff in order to avoid any complicated relationships. But would that still be in effect if the situation required an urgent solution?

And that brings you to now: all fours facing Seungcheol, eagerly licking, sucking, and slobbering all over his dick, while Wonwoo and Mingyu stand behind you opening your holes up.

This wasn't your first time, and it shows. From your first month of working with them as their stylist, you'd already been touchy with some of the members—in mutual consent and understanding of course— and have had a few secret escapades with them, sometimes even having more than one member at a time. Mingyu specially had the hots for you. Cocky and confident as ever, winking and flirting with you during his fittings.

Wonwoo has two of his long and slim fingers inside you scissoring you open, savouring the view of your cunt gaping at him covering his fingers in your slick, while Mingyu was slowly jerking himself off, tapping his dick on your butt while lightly teasing your other hole with his thumb.

"Gonna be a good girl and take us in all three of your holes, hm baby?" Mingyu teases gripping your butt cheeks, slapping it hard that it leaves a handprint of his hand. You choke on Seungcheol's dick in reply eyes rolling the back of your head as he presses hard down your throat, smirking as he takes grip of your neck tightening it when he feels a bulge.

You already felt so full, and it's only been one dick. Wonwoo removes his fingers from inside of you, stunned by the string of clear and smily pre cum stretch on his fingers as he pulls away. Wonwoo motions his fingers like a scissor infront of the celling light, a sly smirk on his face, "Haven't even fucked you yet and you're already this bad," he says.

Seungcheol abruptly pulls out of your throat watching strings of saliva drip down from his dick and on your tongue, "Fuck. She's dripping all over." He says before thrusting back in, a tight vice around your hair.

Mingyu gives your pussy a few taps using his dick before finally entering you. Usually he'd tease you first by only thrusting with his tip before finally slowly pushing in, but you didn't had the time for that.

Not even a spare time to ajdust as he bottoms out, Wonwoo quickly follows completely stretching you out. You were being stretched all over with three thick dicks inside of you. If it wasn't for Seungcheol's thick dick occupying your mouth, you'd definitely be a moaning mess by now.

Seungcheol's dick was thick and big, a thickness you could only imagine to have had existed, it gave him many advantages, but also disadvantages as he was forced to fuck your mouth rather than your cunt because it'd be impossible for him to join in without proper size training.

Wonwoo and Mingyu had almost the same size, only that Wonwoo was less thick than Mingyu. Which is why the mix of two combined had you rolling your eyes to thr back of your head. Reaching you deep and stretching you thick.

Mingyu slowly starting to rut into you, spitting in between their cocks providing more lube to allow the stretch. Wonwoo could feel his dick physically get harder and harder at the feeling of another dick rubbing against his, the warm hug of your cunt, and his tip resting near the entrace of your womb making him leak pre cum more.

He starts to move soon when he realizes the reality of the situation. This wasn't happening in the hotel room but rather in the venues dressing room. They had their stage outfits on, make-up done, and they were doing this to have their pants fit them. Shit. The concerts starting in 30 minutes. They haven't even had their pictures taken yet.

He adjusts his hips the youngers movement, thrusting in at the exit of the other. And together they create a perfect rhythm of movements. Sweat dripping down their faces. Seungcheol throwing his head back as his movement begins to quicken, becoming desperate even, before finally cumming inside your mouth. Leaks of his cum drip down the side of your mouth as you were forces to swallow every drip of him.

Seungcheol pulls out while you still had your mouth tight around him during the process sucking him off clean. "Fuuck," He groans holding a grip of your hair, forcing you to look up at him when he rests his dick on your cheeks. You bite your lips and roll your head backwards when the two repeatedly hit your g spot with the the tips of their dicks.

"Open your mouth baby, let us hear you." Seungcheol mutters, pulling your lip from your mouth, and as you open it, screams of their fans erupt from the venue snapping the three back into reality.

Mingyu groans gripping your waist and slapping your ass, "Dirty, dirty, slut, letting idols fuck her in the middle of work while fans wait for them outside." He says pounding deeply into you.

You're left to do nothing but whimper and gasp, taking the two of them behind you. Clenching your cunt at their words of praises and insults, "Doing so good for us babe, just a few more. C'mon, I know you can do it. Be the slut that you are." Wonwoo pants, fondling with your tits.

"I'm cumming," You barely get it out before collapsing on the floor, hands giving up as you clench and cream all over them. Liquid spurts from your hole as you squirt, making the duo groan and moan when they cum with you.

Mingyu goes first, throwing his head back as he lets out a guttural moan, still slowly thrusting inside of you with his hands massaging your hips. Wonwoo follows quickly after, stilling inside of you, letting his cum deposit in you before pressing down hard inside inducing a loud moan from you.

He bends down and leaves kisses all over your back before sitting back up and slapping your butt causing you to clench around them, making them groan in the process.

"Well that was quite a show." Seungcheol chuckles, wiping yout face down with a tissue and making you sip water from a bottle.

"Told you doggys the best." Mingyu says, pulling out while Wonwoo follows, gaping your cunt to watch a mix of cum drip down out of you. "I still prefer the show I recieve during cowgirl." Wonwoo replies, placing his face right before your cunt after Mingyu moves away from watching the show.

"Gonna clean you up now baby, m'kay?" Wonwoo says, kissing your cunt, before licking your flaps to start, and sucking your cunt using his whole mouth.

Safe to say that you were gonna get both a raise and a bonus.

[junhuiscent]

just thought i’d let u know when i saw ur stepdad cheol poll my body took a screenshot and ive never pressed anything so quick .

Relief, the Right Way

pairing: stepdad cheol x female reader

synopsis: You bring your date home without expecting your new stepdad seungcheol to be home. You say it was just for stress relief so seungcheol proves how much better he is for you than your date after kicking him out.

WC: 3.7k

cw: smut, fingering, unprotected sex, degrading, slight overstimulation, big cock!seungcheol, obviously stepdad stuff mentioned, dirty talk, possessive cheol, slight choking??

note: this took me agessss sorry anon i was busy. (id be lying if i said cheols recent insta posts didn’t motivate me to finally finish this) also i have not proofread this so may be mistakes, my bad!!

Your mum had recently remarried, unfortunately for you, she decided to marry a man that any girl would find impossible to not fall for, Choi Seungcheol. How your mum managed to get him to marry her in such a short period of time was beyond you, especially since he was closer in age to you than her.

After you broke up with your long-term boyfriend, you had moved back into the house where your mum and Seungcheol lived. However, today you had decided to go out and see your current situationship. Bearing in mind that Seungcheol ordinarily worked late hours, you thought nothing of taking your date back the house.

Laughter filled the doorway as you and your date entered the living room, still reminiscing over the day you had. Seungcheol glanced up from his documents as you came in, raising one of his defined eyebrows upon seeing you in that little black dress which adorned your body, hugging your curves in a seductive manner that was impossible for him to deny. He raised his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose as he gulped, his adams apple visibly moving as his eyes flick to the man by your side, taking in his appearance.

Without thought, your body freezes up from the unexpected meeting between your situationship and Seungcheol, enraptured within the awkward silence. You look towards your side to see your date mirroring the same expression that you wore, only his noticeably containing more fear.

"Who's this then? And why is he in my house?" Seungcheol says with his jaw clenched, successfully attempting to retain a cold front yet not directly making eye contact as his eyes remain busy putting away his documents which decorated the coffee table before him.

Searching for an excuse, the only suitable words you could think of slip out your mouth, "A friend. He's just my friend."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Seungcheol questions as he lowers his glasses before discarding them to the side. The heavy weight of his gaze rendering you speechless before you gather your thoughts.

"Well, we are going to go upstairs and.. hang out." You were a grown woman, but something about this man made you feel guilty for having relationships, even though you knew it was justifiable. But was it? The guilt consumed you, it was as if only one look from that man's wide eyes had you under his control, like he could read every thought going through your head and it made your whole body want to surrender to it. It was stupid. But it was undeniable.

You swiftly grab your date's hand and make your way up to your room to escape the tense atmosphere that had unintentionally been created. You were unsure what the room had become tense with, unease from an awkward encounter— it was possible. Yet something about it made your skin hot, a different type of tension which was hard to name but so easy to feel.

In the living room, Seungcheol lets out an exasperated sigh. He can't just allow you to bring boys to his house in the middle of the night. He could feel his irritation growing as the sound of your bedroom door closing could be heard. Without thought, he begins pacing around the living room, debating whether to intervene or not. The thought of each possibility that could be taking place behind that door playing hrough his mind, making his blood boil further with every step.

Clearly, Seungcheol and your date's encounter hadn't affected your date as much as it did Seungcheol. As soon as you enter your bedroom, you are turned against the door in a hurried manner, your back pinned against the cold material. He smirks before his lips make contact with your neck, his rushed kisses travel down your neck from your jaw, gently sucking onto any available skin, leaving marks as a souvenir of his actions. He lightly lets his teeth graze over your delicate skin as you let the inevitable whimper escape your throat.

Despite the thick walls which seperate you, this sound you create is made inarguable to Seungcheol. The protective instincts deep within him surging to the forefront of his mind, blurring any radical thoughts.

Your date's hands slide down from your waist to the hem of your dress, bunching up the fabric as his eyes remain locked onto yours. His hand then travels to your clothed core, teasing your sensitive spot through the fabric, coaxing out subtle, high-pitch moans to leave you.

Cheol clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. He can't take it anymore. Without proper consideration, he marches up to your room, each step of his becoming a testament to his vigilance. He loosens his tie in frustration before knocking on your bedroom door twice, rage fueling every movement.

"I'm busy..!" You choke out a weak reply, unable to fabricate a reasonable excuse.

"Busy or not, you're going to open this door, sweetheart." Seungcheol says firmly, his voice laced with authority.

Your eyes meet the man in front of you again, filled with confliction from the dilemma you had been placed in. His actions don't halt. His slender fingers continue their journey, outlining the hem of your panties, becoming closer to your heat.

Seungcheol can feel the waves of his impatience growing with every second of silence he is left with, banging on the door with more force. "Countdown, young lady," he says, his voice stern, "5... 4... 3..."

You hurriedly push the man off you as you attempt to fix yourself, tugging down your dress and moving your hair to cover the pattern of hickeys that now accessorised your neck. You watch the doorknob turn at an agonizingly slow pace.

Seungcheol's presence then fills the room, his scent already finding its way to your nose. Seungcheol surveys the state of your appearance— your dress appearing to be slightly wrinkled, your cheeks flushed a rosy-shade and your clear aim to hide something on the side of your neck. His jaw clenches at the sight before he redirects his vision to your date, beside you.

“You.” his voice was low and threatening.

“You have exactly 30 seconds to tell me why you thought it was appropriate to come into my house under the guise of being her ‘friend’ and do who knows what with her in the middle of the night.”

Grabbing your situationship by the arm, you pull him aside from Seungcheol. “We are just hanging out, Cheol.” you ask defensively as you try to avoid his line of vision.

"And what part of 'hanging out' involves leaving marks on your neck, may I ask?" His vision finds you and your eyes lock. His heavy gaze fills you with that same guilt, for no apparent reason.

You are left with no rebuttal, the only words that can fight to leave you are, "Why do you care? I'm an adult."

"Because you are under my care. And because I don't appreciate some boy thinking he can touch you like you're some plaything" His eyes were sharp, encased in authority, his thick, defined eybrows were furrowed and his hand was subconsciously pointing towards you, further highlighting the power he holds in every action of his.

You are left speechless. One reason being your urge to comply with his demands, the command he has over you becoming almost degrading. The other reason being the fact that it was your first time seeing this side of him. You never knew he cared about you to this extent. However, the most alarming concern was the fact that his simple care had managed heighten you arousal in ways you had never experienced before, causing your mind to blank.

Your eyes followed his as they flicked back to your date, his anger visibly flaring up further. "If I see you anywhere near this house again, or even hear your name in connection to my stepdaughter, you'll regret the day you were born."

You accept defeat as you look up apologetically at your date, who you can see is still conflicted. After seconds of contemplation paired with an unwavering stare from Seungcheol, he ultimately has no choice but to say goodbye before Seungcheol hurries him out the door.

"Get over here." He says sternly, gesturing for you to come towards him. His eyes are hard, his body tense with anger and disappointment. His gaze locks on you as you approach him, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your head slightly bowed down.

He reaches out and gently lifts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Look at me." He commands you firmly. "What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?"

You leave him with no reply, letting the evident look of shame being worn on your face do the talking.

He tilts his head to the side as his jaw clenches, "Do you have an explanation for me? I think that's the least I deserve."

You still actively tried to avoid his overpowering gaze, however that just led your eyesight upon his arms which were sculpted with such effortless strength. The way they flexed with each subtle movement wasn't just a display of that strength, but a silent promise of safety, of warmth. This forced your eyes back up to his face as you constructed a reply. "I just needed to relieve some stress.."

Unlike you, Seungcheol instantly replied, "So you think that is the best way?"

Every word that left his mouth was dripping in power. It was clear that his intentions stemmed from care but something in his delivery felt demeaning. He took a step closer to you, slowly closing the gap which seperated your bodies.

"There are plenty of other ways to relieve stress and sexual frustration, young lady. You need to start making better decisions, especially when it comes to men." His voice drops a tone deeper, the connotations of his words becoming more apparent as his hand begins to trail up your arm, his touch being light, serving as a harsh contrast to his tone.

"L-Like what?" Your eyes open wide as the question left your lips. You knew what he was referring to, yet your mind wouldn't let you properly comprehend his words, leaving you in denial.

He grits his teeth again, trying to keep his frustration in check. "You really want me to spell it out for you?" He asks, his voice a little rougher. Seungcheol leans in further, his lips now nearly brushing against your ear. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sweetheart." He whispers, the heat from his breath sending a shiver through you.

Seungcheol chuckles at your feigned innonence as he gently brushes a strand of your hair away from your face, his fingers barely skimming your skin. His voice drops even lower, his lips now barely an inch from yours. "You really want me to walk you through it, darling?"

You nod as Seungcheol smirks, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at you. "Let me show you then," You then feel his firm, determined hands handle your hips as he spins you to have your back facing him. He whispers, his hand gently grabbing her wrist and guiding it to the hem of her dress. "Close your eyes, Sweetheart."

Your eyes close and he continues to guide your hand, slowly easing it under your dress, his own hand still lightly gripping your wrist. "Feel how soft your skin is." He whispers, his low and sultry voice going straight to your core.

He smiles slightly, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he murmurs "Good girl. Now, keep your eyes closed and focus on how it feels." His hand slowly moves yours higher, over your thigh. He takes his time guiding it higher, the heat radiating off your skin as he moves. "That's it, darling." He whispers, his voice low and thick with desire.

Your mouth shyly hangs open at the overwhelmingly tense atmosphere that had been created as seungcheol gently pushes your fingers towards the edge of your panties. "Now, feel how warm you are underneath there." The new command leaves his mouth, his voice a mixture of husk and authority.

Seungcheol's hand is still wrapped around your wrist as he guides you to gently push against your most sensitive area. "Do you feel that?" his words sound expressionless yet you can tell his is refraining himself with every word.

"It's wet." You speak out, your words barely forming.

His breath catches in his throat at your words, a low moan escaping his lips as he feels the heat from your body. He's trying to keep his composure but the way your voice quivers and your reaction to his actions makes it nearly impossible.

"Does it feel better than when you do it on your own, darling?" He asks, his voice a low rumble as you nod eagerly, completely lost in his touch.

Seungcheol smirks as his grip on you slightly tightens. "That's right, darling. And do you know whos relieving that stress for you?"

"You.. You are." He begins to leave a trail of slow kisses on your neck as you speak, your body still pressed against his as he controls your movements.

"Good girl." He says with a large exhale, "And do you want me to keep helping you with that stress, darling?" His words a followed by your head nodding again, growing with desperation.

At your signal of consent, you feel him move your fingers lower, until he pushes them into your core, the sudden pleasure forcing a moan from your body as you melt into his grasp. He keeps you up steady, one of his hands snaked around your waist, the other on your wrist and his head in the crook of your neck from behind.

The deep warmth from his breath slowly fanned across the side of your neck with every exhale he took and sent shivers down to your core. His scent filtered through the air of your bedroom and reached your nose filling it with his prominant, primal smell.

The feeling of you slowly losing every one of your senses and completely unravelling in his touch, was one that Seungcheol found hard to contain. Every slight jerk of your wrist by him had you arching against him and convulsing eagerly around yourself.

His eyes remained half-lidded shaded by lust as they found yours in the mirror opposite you. You hadn't noticed the view that was displayed in front of you yet but god had Seungcheol noticed it. It showed you with your head rolled back onto Seungcheol's broad, steady shoulders which led down to his thick biceps decorated in veins, which were the only thing keeping you upright as it led to his hand grasping your wrist— much smaller in comparison, and that wrist led to your lips spread apart with the dim light catching the moisture.

You could view Seungcheol's gaze, his eyes which were now focused on your body as his pace increased. That gaze which consumed you. You needed this man. You needed your stepdad. That confession made you submit fully as you let out trails of whimpers.

Seungcheol's breath hitches as he feels you moving your hips, grinding down onto your own fingers that were penetrating you, his own body reacting to your actions as he feels his trousers tighten somehow further.

You feel it— you feel all of it. The added sensation of the feeling of his dick against your ass only through the barrier of clothing sending you close to the edge.

"You're getting close, aren't you? I'm getting you there, just a little more." Seungcheol winces at the thought of his own fingers being the ones you were clenching around but promptly redirects his attention back to guiding your fingers to make you finish.

Your eyes close but Seungcheol's stay firmly in the mirror, watching your chest rise rapidly as your body vibrates back onto him and his bulge. Overcome by pleasure, you melt into Cheol's grasp. He feels a warm liquid trail down from your wrist to his hand.

"Don't worry about that, darling. I'll take care of it." He gently guides your hand to his plump lips and slowly licks your fingers clean, his tongue licking a line from your wrist before sucking it off your fingertips. He lets out a series of low moans as he tastes her on his tongue, the action making him shiver. "You taste so sweet, baby."

He can tell you are taking your time to process what just happened, the switch from your distant stepfather always working when you see him to him now licking your cum as his eyes never leave yours in your bedroom mirror. Reassuring you, he states, "I know what my little girl needs, and I'm more than happy to provide."

"More-" Is the only word which can escape your throat. Your voice is shaky, your lips parted and your thighs still shaking. It's a command yet in this circumstance, that word couldn't sound less pathetic— it was more of a plea. A desperate plea which was the only word your mind could think as you felt Seungcheols tip rubbing the curve of your ass through his sexy work trousers.

"More?" His determined arms spin you around to face him as he begins walking forward, forcing you to walk back. “After I just watched you fall apart for me without even touching you?” His words are laced with a layer of almost disgust, putting you in your place. "My greedy little girl." With his final words, he stops moving. You now stood with your ass perched against the side of your desk, arms leaning behind you for support as Cheol towered down over you. Your arms shook with a flash of hesitation from the act you were about to comit.

"Don't get shy now~" His words sound like they are spitting down at you. "You brought a boy to my house." "Now you are going to learn what a man feels like, understood?"

You gulp and reply, your voice barely a whisper "Understood, teach me.." Your request was immediately followed by a growl from Sengcheol by your neck, "Oh i plan to."

His actions don’t give you a moment to second-guess. Your desk jerks under you as he turns you around again, the tent in his trousers grazing against your behind. His other hand slides up your inner thigh from behind, to carress your ass bent over in front of him this time with purpose, not guidance.

“I’m going to fuck every trace of him out of you.” He says it like a promise. Like a threat. Like something he’s enjoying too much.

You nod, too breathless to speak. You can hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and all you can do is pray your mum doesn't come home.

His fingers pull your underwear to the side like they were never meant to be there. The next second, he’s inside you in one slow, cruel thrust.

Your head tips back with a gasp. You thought this was going to be a normal fuck but god were you so undoubtedly wrong. His slow thrust leaves you feeling lightheaded as you become accustomed to the harsh pain. The feeling of him splitting you apart raw was one that only in this moment could you realise that you had been craving so deeply.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass, with a sudden smack. “Now take it. Take all of it. Like my good little girl.”

You can feel the assuring weight of him on your back as he leans down to angle his thrusts even harder, already reaching your most sensitive spots with ease just from his size and precision. Fuck, your mum was lucky but you couldn't even think about that in this moment as you were so consumed by the pleasure he was delivering you.

The sounds of your bedroom were becoming more lewd with every thrust. The combination of the wet slapping skin, your cries of pleasure and Cheol's gravelly moans would make what you are currently doing completely apparent if anyone were to enter the house, or even walk past the street at this point.

"You shouldn’t want this." Seungcheol punctautes each word with a thrust, "But you do. Just like I do."

His hand reaches round to grab your neck, with the feeling of his cold wedding ring slightly scratching at your skin.

"You’re gonna let me ruin you while wearing this ring?" Your moans become a trail of incoherent whimpers as he speaks, "Go ahead. Feel it. Doesn’t change a fucking thing."

You look around to meet his harsh gaze as his eyes lock onto yours and he lets you feel seen through a deep sudden thrust which knocks you further onto the desk, the furniture creaking making a sound which he seems to enjoy by the smirk on his lips.

"Do you think she ever gets me like this? Hm?" His thrusts become harder yet begin to falter. "No. Only you."

From his confession, you clench, feeling yourself become overwhlemed with pleasure. His cock seems to somehow hit even deeper in his determined pace.

Seungcheol can feel you clench tight around him and it's better than he could've ever imagined, his cock is pulsating as he pistons it into you without control, building to his release. He holds your hips steady, smacking your ass before gripping the skin of your hips and bringing you back onto him as he thrusts, the impact driving higher pitched screams from you.

You become completely immobile as he guides you as if he owns you—as if he was actually yours. You feel the rough, brutal pace build as you can no longer handle the pressure. Your eyes roll back as the feeling consumes you and you make a mess all over his dick.

He doesn't pull out. He fucks you harder. He somehow fucks you further. Fully focused on his release until he gives you one final thrust into overstimulation before filling you. His warm liquid spreads throughout your insides and you are left fully fucked out. He crashes into your back, resting his weight upon you as he breathes heavily onto the back of your neck.

Seungcheol pulls out slowly as he whispers into your ear, "Next time you bring someone here, make sure it’s me."

[uri-gyu]

｡･ﾟﾟ･Cold Feet･ﾟﾟ･｡

pairing: wonwoo x gn! reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.2k

You're nestled in bed, snuggling into your warm blankets as you scroll through tiktok, giggling at your bright screen. It's an everyday ritual for you and Wonwoo to just cuddle and watch funny videos together at night before bed.

That night, it was particularly cold due to the heavy rain falling all day long. You don't think much as you throw a leg over Wonwoo's waist, but when you feel the sudden press of something cold against your calf, you flinch and hiss.

You look up at him, eyebrows pulled together. "Don't do that." You warn, twisting your body to have a better look at him. "Do what? I didn't do anything." He says innocently, though the smile on his face betrays him.

"Okay, okay. I won't do it again." He squeezes you close to him when he sees the glare you send his way. You hum in approval before leaning back into him, but soon, you feel it again. His cold foot touching your warm skin.

"Wonwoo!" You exclaim, sitting up straight. He laughs, adjusting his glasses. "You said you wouldn't do it again!" You whine, hitting his chest gently.

"Fine. I'm sorry baby, I swear I'll stop." He attempts to pacify you by pulling you back against him by wrapping his large arms around your waist.

As you settle down again, an evil thought crosses your mind. Swiftly, you pull up his shirt, pressing your cold hand against his abs. He gasps and tugs at your wrist. "Y/n, you're cold!" He groans, making you cackle. "Revenge baby, revenge." You mumble, leaning close to his face and pressing a soft, apologetic kiss to his lips.

ೃ⁀➷(a/n): I miss my man😔💔

Also, insomnia zero Wonwoo is my favourite Wonwoo.

Please like and reblog! It means a lot <3

Photos are not mine. All credit to the rightful owners.

[imhalfplastic]

still, in paris (2)

⊹ overview - pairing: mingyu x f!reader genre: slice of life · fluff · contemporary · slow burn · lighthearted tone themes: casual romance, soft humor, text-based narrative cw: brief mentions of social anxiety, lingering solitude, implied fame context, sfw

summary: it started with a laugh caught on camera and a feeling that never really left. not love, not quite... but something soft enough to remember. time passed, the world moved on and so did they. almost. until the right words slipped out at the wrong time.

from kai: hey guys!! part two is finally here! thank you so much for all the sweet messages 🫶 i'm really happy you’ve been enjoying it. not sure if y’all were expecting an ending here but spoiler: this isn’t it lol but good news: part three (final) is already done and coming soon. hope this one hits just as nice as the first :)

now playing: compliqué - ichon

back in los angeles, the jetlag hits weird. not dramatic or anything. just... off. like your brain’s trying to reboot but keeps glitching. the air in your apartment is too still, too quiet. outside, a siren wails somewhere in the distance, far enough not to matter but loud enough to remind you you're not in paris anymore.

you’re not ready to go back to real life.

you tell yourself it’s just a few days. just a little time to reset. but somehow, you don’t leave the apartment. not for any dramatic reason. just… inertia. the kind that settles in your bones after too much movement. after too many lights, too many people, too much of everything. days pass in a soft blur. toast for dinner, unread emails, the same song on repeat. you feel like your body came home but your head’s still somewhere in between.

paris felt like a movie. this feels like the part after. the credits. the silence.

you don’t really mind it. but you don’t really like it either. you stare at the ceiling for a while. then the floor. then the glow of your phone screen. and for no reason at all, you think about the way he looked at you when he said you were easy to talk to. like he meant it.

you’re half-curled on the couch, sideways, one sock on, one gone, phone slipping in and out of your hand. the tv’s on mute. a candle’s burning even though you forgot why you lit it. the air smells like vanilla and leftover takeout.

you should be sleeping. the sky outside is that soft navy-gray that means it's either very late or very early. you don’t check the time. instead, you’re aimlessly scrolling through instagram, brightness low, thumb moving without thinking but then you see mingyu's post.

a carousel. very “brand trip but make it fashion”. group shots. moody lighting. him clinking glasses with someone important. blurry backstage pics that somehow still look like an editorial.

you’re already halfway through when you spot it. sandwiched between a photo of him with some french creative director and a dramatic shot of the eiffel tower at sunset.

the picture. the two of you.

a photo taken mid-laugh, completely unposed. your elbow grazing his arm like you forgot anyone else was around. the kind of picture you only realize someone took after it’s already posted. natural, a little messy, and unmistakably real.

the caption’s simple: merci, paris.

no tags. no context. just... that.

you keep looking at it like it might change if you stare long enough. it doesn’t. it’s still you and him. still that split-second from a night that already feels more like a dream than something that actually happened.

you shift on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter, and a small smile creeps up before you can stop it. because now, somehow even hours behind and half a world away paris doesn’t feel over.

you tell yourself you’re not going to say anything. you open the chat anyway.

you bold move

there’s no typing bubble for a moment. you imagine him seeing it, grinning to himself like this was the plan all along.

mingyu which part

you posting that photo knowing exactly what it would do

mingyu ah the soft launch heard round the world

you snort, pulling the blanket up to your chin. he’s too proud of himself.

you you just wanted to cause chaos didn’t you

mingyu chaos is subjective i prefer “light mischief”

you i haven’t even checked twitter yet i’m scared

mingyu don’t it’s already a mess in the best way

you figures

mingyu someone always zooms someone always overanalyzes it’s tradition

you well mission accomplished “they ate” is probably trending again

mingyu naturally also saw one that said “this is enemies to lovers but they skipped the enemies part”

you pause, a quiet laugh leaving your mouth before you even register it.

you so how does it feel to be half of a fake couple?

mingyu undecided ask me again in a week after the fake breakup

you smile. soft. effortless.

you i’ll draft the notes app apology just in case

the next night has settled around you like a heavy blanket, but your mind refuses to quiet down. the hum of the city outside your window is a restless companion, a reminder that life goes on somewhere else. just not here and not now.

your phone buzzes. you don’t hesitate. maybe a distraction is exactly what you need.

mingyu seoul feels weirdly quiet tonight not peaceful quiet like... lonely quiet

you los angeles is the opposite everything’s loud and bright like it’s trying too hard

mingyu sounds like la and i have that in common trying too hard is kind of my brand

you really? i thought your brand was thirst trap photos and accidental charm

mingyu i was being deep and you turned it into slander incredible

you it’s three in the morning what did you expect?

mingyu it’s 7pm here i’m fully functional

you must be nice my brain clock is upside down and tap dancing

mingyu you’re texting surprisingly well for a sleep-deprived gremlin

you years of training

mingyu what’s keeping you up?

you you know the usual existential dread mixed with bad takeout and worse tv

mingyu sounds like la nightlife to me

you more like la no-life tbh how's your night?

mingyu pretty chill i've had dinner and emotional stability

you gross can't relate

mingyu want me to ship you some? the emotional stability, not dinner i ate it all

you rude but thanks for the thought ig

mingyu anytime especially if you keep texting like this top tier entertainment

you so i'm your free entertainment now? should i start charging

mingyu you’re already priceless don’t ruin the brand

you smooth do you practice these lines or is it just natural talent

mingyu a little of both

you humble and accurate

mingyu thanks i try to stay grounded despite being devastatingly charming

you your words not mine

mingyu give it time

you give me sleep and maybe i’ll consider it

mingyu can’t sleep won’t admit you’re flirting classic

you i’m not flirting i’m insomniac texting completely different genre

mingyu sure and i’m just “checking in” because i “care”

you do you?

mingyu maybe depends you always this fun at 3am?

you depends you always this charming at 7pm?

mingyu sadly yes it’s a burden

you must be exhausting

mingyu devastating, really but someone’s gotta do it

you laugh, soft and unexpected.

he always does this. pulls you out of your own head without even trying. you weren’t planning on smiling tonight, but then there he was.

the truth is, it’s him. mingyu makes everything feel easier to say. like you don’t have to filter the messy parts.

you go to bed with your phone still in your hand and his name still in your head. sleep comes quietly after that. and yeah. he might be the reason why.

but sadly you don’t talk much after that. not on purpose. there’s no big fight, no awkward silence that hangs heavy and needs to be broken.

just... time. work. different time zones. the kind of quiet that settles in when two worlds spin too fast to catch up.

sometimes you’d send a message at 11am your time and for him it’d be 3am. too late or too early for an immediate reply. sometimes the reply would come hours later. a “sorry. just woke up” or a “finally got a break”. and other times you’d wait for hours, fingers hovering over your phone then shrug and keep living.

he’s back to rehearsals, variety shows, photoshoots, the relentless blur of being an idol. you’re back to pretending to be other people for a living, slipping into scripts, interviews, premieres.

the messages slow down. then stop altogether.

and like clockwork, the internet shifts gears.

a new buzz starts: someone deletes all their posts, an unexpected collab stage, a blurry selfie that somehow crashes three fandoms. the excitement dies down. the noise settles. and you let go.

not because it didn’t count, but because maybe that was all it ever was. short. soft. a blink in the chaos. a passing scene.

one the internet spun into a headline before you even had a chance to figure out what it really was.

until

Y/N Y/LN Answers the Web’s Most Searched Questions | WIRED

[CAMERA ON – you’re seated in the WIRED studio, wearing something effortlessly cool. you smile at the camera, holding the classic board full of google questions].

Y/N: hello, i’m Y/N Y/LN and this is the WIRED autocomplete interview. (holds up board)

Y/N: this already feels like a mistake. let’s go.

[PEELS FIRST STRIP] Y/N (reading): "is y/n y/ln british?" (you blink once, then shake your head.)

nope. not even a little. (mock posh accent) but i do say “sorry�� way too much, so spiritually? maybe. (smiles, shrugs)

[PEELS NEXT STRIP] Y/N: "how did y/n y/ln get famous?" (leans forward, mock whispering)

honestly? a mix of hard work, good timing, and a casting director who probably took pity on me. (grins) also crying. i cried a lot during the auditions. professionally. (tilts head)

[PEELS NEXT STRIP] (you pause, eyeing it like you already know what’s coming) Y/N (smiling): “are y/n y/ln dating mingyu from seventeen?” (you raise your eyebrows, then let out a breathy laugh. hold the strip up like a receipt.)

wow, straight to the rumors. (leans on one elbow, chin resting in hand)

so. here’s the thing: we met at a dior event. very fancy, very quick. we talked for, what, one minute? maybe two. and now everyone’s convinced we’ve been sneaking around for months. (shakes head, amused)

host: so that’s a no? (you raise a brow)

i mean... i don’t even think he has my number. (shrugs lightly) but i get it guys! paris has a way of making things look way more interesting than they are. (laughs softly)

anyway. next.

[PEELS NEXT STRIP] Y/N (reading): "does y/n y/ln have siblings?" (you instantly laugh, eyes crinkling.)

i do. they keep me humble by never watching anything i’m in until six months later. (pause) and then texting ‘not bad’ like they’re writing for the new york times. (beat) love them though. most of the time.

[PEELS NEXT STRIP] Y/N: "what is y/n y/ln doing next?" (sits up a little straighter, excited)

ooh, fun. i just shot a small part in a friend’s indie film. it’s weird and beautiful and possibly haunted. (grins) and we finished filming season two of the series that somehow got tagged ‘comfort show’ despite all the emotional damage. (raises eyebrows) so… yeah. can’t wait to traumatize you again.

[PEELS FINAL STRIP] Y/N (reading): "can y/n y/ln sing?" (nods confidently)

yes. should i? absolutely not. (laughs) but i do sing in the car. badly. with full confidence. which, if you ask me, is what really counts. (gestures like it’s a public service) you’re welcome, traffic.

[OUTRO – you smile at the camera, board now full.] Y/N: that was the WIRED autocomplete interview. thank you for asking very normal and totally not invasive questions about me. (pause, smirking) seriously though… this was fun. thanks for having me! (waves) bye!

hours after the interview dropped on youtube, you get a message from the team saying thanks. you thank them back for the invite and go on with your day. you’re halfway through microwaving leftover pasta when your phone lights up.

mingyu “i don’t even think he has my number”??

you stare at the message. sigh. pause the microwave.

you look things were happening lights were bright the board was judging me

mingyu so that was your panic response? cutting me off completely?

you i blacked out might sue for trauma

mingyu you made it sound like we met once and never talked again

you i wanted to be mysterious not make it look like you were a fever dream

mingyu mission failed the internet thinks we’re already broken up in code

you nooooo sad day for our fans

mingyu yeah they got a whole storyline you gave them season finale vibes

you i was just trying to survive the chaos and maybe keep some mystery alive you know protect it a little

mingyu protect what?

you whatever this is was. might still be?

mingyu so dramatic

you just french

mingyu next you’ll say you’ve been staring out rainy windows listening to sad playlists

you once maybe twice but it was very cinematic thanks

mingyu sure sure just promise to stop lying on camera

you no promises i’m a pro

mingyu then just text me next time before you erase me digitally

you deal

mingyu btw i didn’t delete your number just wasn’t sure if i was still supposed to have it

you i kept yours even when the texts stopped

you sit on the couch, less hungry suddenly

you but i get it you vanished into seventeen promo world i got swallowed by set life

mingyu true blinked and three months disappeared weird how quiet it got

you life’s loud that’s just how it goes

a beat.

mingyu you’re not quiet now

you neither are you

mingyu guess we’re even

you hm until the internet says we’re secretly married again

mingyu give it a week someone will find my reflection in your sunglasses and call it proof

you that’s on you for having such a recognizable shoulder

mingyu thanks?

you not sure if that’s a compliment but okay

mingyu so this is us trying normal?

you define “normal” cause we’re already weird

mingyu no cameras no headlines just us texting like regular people

you ambitious borderline unrealistic

mingyu i’ll take that challenge

you is this you trying?

mingyu painfully please clap

you i’ll consider it if you don’t disappear again

mingyu fair but same goes for you

you deal mutual ghosting is off the table

mingyu look at us growth

you emotional maturity looks good on you

mingyu don’t get used to it

you too late

you smile at your phone, the ease between you both settling in.

it’s not quite resolution. but it’s not uncertainty either. just this quiet pause, where neither of you is gone. two stories still moving, but maybe for now in the same page.

three days later, you’re curled up on the couch, cereal long past crunchy, some show playing in the background you’ve already forgotten the plot of. the wired interview’s been out for 72 hours, and the internet is still doing what it does best… spiraling. your best friend’s sent you edits. all lana del rey. all deeply chaotic. and honestly? kind of brilliant.

your phone buzzes.

mingyu they’re still talking about our breakup

you it’s been three days since the video dropped don’t they get tired?

mingyu apparently not someone just posted a theory that i got dumped mid-interview and have been crying in hidden messages ever since

you should i send you a fruit basket

mingyu definitely you told the world i didn’t even have your number in celebrity language it read as: “it’s not me, it’s you and also i blocked you”

you or maybe it just meant: “bright lights make me say dumb things and betray everyone i’ve ever cared about.”

mingyu i get it happens to the best of us but also some of us didn’t panic some of us stayed mysterious and romantic and didn’t forget our scene partner

you your version of romance is honestly terrifying

mingyu and yet... you’re still here

you out of curiosity maybe science?

mingyu sure a slow and cinematic kind of curiosity

you you’d love that

mingyu i do love that and speaking of slow and cinematic dior autumn-winter show is next month

you how subtle

mingyu i try

you is this you asking if i’ll be there?

mingyu this is me requesting my rightful redemption arc something poetic closure maybe on a rooftop rain optional

you optional? you’ve clearly rehearsed the whole scene

mingyu this is a yes?

you depends will you be there?

mingyu yeah i think it’d be a waste to let the story fade out not when we’ve got that sequel energy

you and what exactly does this sequel look like?

mingyu you me soft lighting less chaos more clarity

you paris again, huh?

mingyu feels like destiny doesn’t it

you i call it good brand connections

mingyu i prefer fate less corporate

you still involves a dress code

mingyu i’m just inviting you to finish the movie we accidentally started

you be careful that sounds dangerously like a date

mingyu maybe it is maybe it’s just two people wearing dramatic outfits in a dramatic city doing absolutely nothing subtle

you have you already planned the soundtrack?

mingyu only the important parts slow jazz some string instruments your laugh somewhere in the background

you you rehearsed that?

mingyu i live in rehearsals comes with the job

you so does pretending you planning on doing any of that?

mingyu not this time we could pick up where we left off see what happens when no one’s watching

you you think no one will be watching?

mingyu they’ll be watching but we won’t be performing not this time

you good i’m done pretending i don’t like good endings

mingyu maybe it’s not one maybe it’s just… the part where we stop acting like we don’t care what comes next

you you think there’s a next?

mingyu could be if you’re in paris

you maybe if you’re lucky

mingyu i usually am when it’s about you

you set your phone down, the glow still lingering behind your eyes. the room is quiet again, but it doesn't feel so empty. you sink deeper into the cushions, heart steady, mind softer than it’s been in days.

no big promises. no dramatic declarations. just something unfolding.

maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. maybe paris will just be paris. but maybe not. maybe it’s exactly where the story picks up again.

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