怎么爱

and he is here. always there for you. he joins you on your sporadic dancing outbursts in the living room or in the middle of the street, invests his whole attention into anything you’re interested in from cooking to new anime series.

('are you tired? it's okay, we can watch it next time,' you say, not pressing 'play' button. hansol shakes his head and you sigh in exasperation and fondness, when he stubbornly presses the button for you and starts the first episode. 'hansol, you're going to fall asleep right now.'

'and you raved about this anime for the whole week, we're definitely watching it.' he cuts you off and yawns against his better judgement, making you roll your eyes. he gets comfortable and motions for you to also relax, smiling in satisfaction when you lean on his right side. 'i read the wikipedia page about this and checked few forums,' he suddenly says and lifts his eyebrow when you stop and turn to him look at him, surprised. 'what?'

there's warmth in your heart that spreads all over your body and you smile so wide your cheeks start to hurt. 'nothing. let's watch the episode.')

there's no need to put a show with him, he accepts you with your morning breath and pillow creases on your cheeks, just as he accepts you all dolled up, ready for the date. he is straightforward but he's not blunt about it, always chooses his words carefully because hurting you is never his intention. his compliments sound more like fact statements ('why are you asking me this? it's like asking if sun is hot, of course you look wonderful!') and he can and will call you out if you're being not fair ('babe, i'm gonna be honest here and say that you were wrong in this situation. i understand where you're coming from, but saying that was a wrong thing to do.').

his touch is gentle and his kiss is chaste and sweet. dating hansol is like being back in the high school again, when holding hands while walking down the corridor made your hearts flutter. he makes you feel giddy with excitement but at ease at the same time. he makes you feel like it's alright to be who you are, imperfect and what not. ('i am just me and you are just you - it's simple.')

dating hansol is chill dates with popcorn and some netflix movie playing the background, because there is no need for all the fancy things when being together is most important. it's him sending you music recs and you sending him memes and staying up late till 3 a.m because you two are texting each other nonstop. it's him waiting for yours 'i'm home' text so he can go to bed and you waking up to 'morning, beautiful. have the best day' text from him.

dating hansol is like breathing with your full chest, unrestricted. he makes you feel like you're worthy of everything just by being you, like sky is the limit, like impossible is nothing.

('you think i can make it?' you ask with a trembling voice. nerves are eating you up alive but when he takes your hands in his and squeezes, the world doesn't look like such a scary place anymore.

'i know you will make it,' he says and he sounds so sure, no trace of doubt that you have no other choice but to believe him. 'everything will work out. and in case it doesn't - i'm here.'

'you are always here,' you say, rolling your eyes but smiling widely.

hansol nods, serious. 'and i always will be.')

Warnings: not a threesome, best friends to lovers, swearing, pining, hurt/comfort, angry cheol (hot), shy switch wonwoo, weed mention, lots of talking during sex, grinding, cumming in pants, multiple orgasms, fingering, clit stim, oral f. rec., facesitting, slit/thigh fucking, condomless piv sex, cum eating, aftercare 

Reader Notes: she/her pronouns used, has vagina and breasts

Fuck, oh fuck, Wonwoo’s made a terrible mistake. 

He’d thought that day was the perfect opportunity to get to be with you without having to confess his feelings, but what he didn’t consider is that getting to be with you would make him want to be with you.

Wonwoo isn’t sure why that didn’t even cross his mind. Maybe because it was clouded with smoke and the disbelief you’d even said yes when Cheol made the offer?

God, it had felt like a wet dream, literally, you’d been so wet, so fucking soft and hot and tight, and Wonwoo still regrets not coming inside you when he’d had the chance, especially since it was probably his last. 

He hasn’t seen you in weeks, and he misses you like hell. 

He supposes he can’t complain though, considering that it’s his own fault. 

Wonwoo’s been avoiding you, skipping your weekly best friends sleepovers, making up excuses for dinner invites, responding to your texts far too late for a conversation to be possible. 

He feels awful, and he knows you know he’s avoiding you, and he knows Seungcheol knows too. 

Cheol might be ready to beat him up soon, if the glare he’s sending Wonwoo right now means anything. 

They’re sitting across from each other in the diner down the street from his apartment, and Seungcheol has been scolding him for the past seven and a half minutes. He only knows because he keeps glancing at the clock to escape Cheol’s glowering. 

Wonwoo honestly feels like he’s in the principal’s office, with the way Seungcheol has his hands folded (clenched) on the table and the way Wonwoo’s being berated. 

“And, if you didn’t think you could handle this, you shouldn’t have participated. You could have just watched, but no, you wanted to join and you wanted to go first, and now you haven’t seen her in weeks.”

Cheol takes a deep breath to continue, “Do you know how sad she is? She totally knows exactly what you’re doing, and she thinks it’s her fault. She thinks she did something wrong. We wanted her to feel better but you’re making her feel worse!” He finishes on a shout. 

Diners in the nearby vicinity shoot Cheol a look, and he raises his eyebrows in response, staring back until they look away. 

Normally, he’s much more polite, Wonwoo must have really pissed him off. 

“I’m sorry, Cheol, I really thought I would be okay. I didn’t realize how bad it was until you made her look at me while you were-,” Wonwoo looks around and continues in a whisper, “fucking her, which by the way, what the fuck was that?!” 

“What do you mean ‘what the fuck was that’?” Seungcheol mocks him.

“That was me making you realize how you feel! I knew you’d be jealous seeing me with her like that and I needed to rub it in so you’d finally fucking understand! You’re in love with her!” Cheol’s eyes are blazing, and Wonwoo’s starting to wonder if he should fear for his own wellbeing, but Cheol wouldn’t hurt him. Wonwoo thinks.

He’s not ready to respond to that last part yet, needs some time to admit it to himself, but he knows he can’t just not say anything. 

Especially if he doesn’t want Seungcheol to launch himself over the table and throttle him. 

“I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry. To both of you. I’ll figure out how to fix it, I just need a bit more time,” Wonwoo pleads, trying to implore Cheol to let him deal with this his own way. 

“I don’t know how much longer she’ll wait. She’s talking about joining the dating apps again.”

The food arrives but Wonwoo doesn’t notice. White noise fills his ears, and he feels very dizzy suddenly, bracing his hands flat on the table for strength. 

He tries not to remember all the short little dresses you’d wear on your internet dates, and the way you’d complain about their inability to make you cum, and the way he used to wish he even had the chance to fail. 

But now Wonwoo’s had the chance, and he didn’t fail, he was successful. He made you cum, multiple times, fuck, he’d even helped make you squirt! 

So honestly, what the fuck is he doing?

He is in love with you, and he can make you cum, and he’s your best friend, and you’re his. 

And now he’s starting to feel like the fuckup wasn’t when he slept with you, it was not taking the chance to tell you how he feels after.

Shit. 

How is he supposed to fix this?

Wonwoo’s come up with a plan, and the first step is showing up at your apartment with your usual from the cafe you always go to together. 

The rain wasn’t part of the plan, but Wonwoo figures his pathetic appearance may actually help his case. 

He’s soaked to the bone, his glasses covered in drops of water, his body shaking like a leaf, his cold hands even colder than normal, but it’ll be worth it if you open the door. 

And that’s a big if, because Wonwoo knows you know it’s him, and he’s honestly not sure you’re going to let him inside.

He wouldn’t blame you, after the way he’s been ignoring and evading you for weeks, but he really hopes you’ll give him at least the chance to explain himself. 

He’s fully prepared to tell you everything, to lay his soul bare at your feet, to grovel on his knees for forgiveness, but he’s not too hopeful when you open the door and shout, “Are you fucking insane?”

You grab him by the collar and haul him inside, pointedly avoiding his gaze as you shut and lock the door before heading to the bathroom to grab him a towel. He drops the food and travel cup in your kitchen and waits for you to return. You stop at your bedroom on the way to get some clothes he’d left here, pointing at the bathroom until he obeys and scurries in, turning on the shower and starting to strip. 

You stand at the door with your arms crossed, glaring into the hallway and waiting for him to hand over his soaked clothes, and he tries to avoid looking at your ass in your little pajama shorts. Now simply is not the time.  

Not when Wonwoo’s never seen you so closed off before, to him at least. He worries he won’t be able to repair the rift he created between you, fears you won’t let him back in. 

He steps into the shower, the heat scorching his freezing skin, and he tries not to shy away from the steaming stream of water, lets it be punishment for hurting you like this. 

He stays until he can feel his fingers and toes again, then just a bit longer because he’s terrified to face you now that he knows you're sad and angry. 

Eventually, Wonwoo gets a bit too warm and knows he can’t put off explaining himself any longer. Shutting the shower off, he roughly towel dries his body and pulls on the clothes you’d brought him, shaking his hair out enough that it won’t drip onto his shoulders and cleaning off his glasses with the edge of the shirt. 

You’re puttering about in the kitchen, heating up the food he’d brought you, sipping at the drink, and whispering angrily to yourself, about him most likely. He doesn’t blame you, could curse himself too for mucking everything up this badly, and he can only hope you’ll let him tell you what happened. 

Wonwoo lets himself linger in the hall for just a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and shuffling into the kitchen with his head lowered in penance. He stays silent, senses your eyes on him and hears your movements stop, and almost wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

But, knowing he owes you this, Wonwoo raises his head and meets your eyes meekly. 

Fuck, you look so mad, and so hot. Under the anger and hotness is hurt, and he chooses to focus on that. 

“Well?” You begin flatly, “What do you have to say?”

“Um,” he clears his throat after squeaking on the first attempt, “I want to apologize, and beg you to forgive me, and also I should probably tell you something.”

You squint at him, tilting your head back to stare down your nose, and Wonwoo tries to pretend your derision doesn’t turn him on. 

“Go on, then,” you raise a brow, and Wonwoo lets out the biggest sigh of relief when he realizes you’re letting him explain himself. 

“Okay, apology first. Well, the apology will probably have some of the thing I need to tell you so I hope that’s okay,” you nod slowly in confusion. 

“I’m really sorry I shut down after we slept together. It was everything I ever dreamed of, except not really because I don’t just want to sleep with you, and also because Cheol was there, and I definitely didn’t dream about that. Not that I didn’t like it!” Wonwoo rushes to clarify, “It was great, and kinda nice not having to think for a bit, but when I pictured our first time, it was… just us.”

You stare at him, processing his words, your face softening incrementally, before you ask, “What do you mean, ‘everything you ever dreamed of’?” 

Wonwoo’s eyes grow wide, knowing he’s at the point where he’ll have to explicitly tell you his feelings. 

“Um, so the thing is I might possibly be in love with you and it’s also possible that after I got to be with you, I couldn’t stop thinking about being with you and made myself sad that I wouldn’t get to so I didn’t want to see you because whenever I thought about seeing you, all I could think about was being near you and touching you and getting to actually love you like I’ve always wanted to,” Wonwoo says in a rush, clenching his eyes shut at the end so he doesn’t have to see your face. 

You stay silent for a while, considering his jumbled confession. 

He peeks an eye open to find you deep in contemplation, your jaw set and your arms folded, and fears that he’s officially ruined the friendship. 

“You’ve always wanted to love me?” you ask softly, quietly, like you’re scared of the answer. 

He nods, keeps nodding, biting his lips between his teeth before speaking just as timidly, “Yeah, I’ve always loved you, sorry.”

Your face scrunches, eyes turning to a glare to hold the tears in, and you whine angrily, “Don’t be sorry, you idiot, I love you too even though you’re so fucking stupid.”

Wonwoo’s heart stutters, squeezes hard, then explodes, and he feels like he might pass out. 

“Do you need to sit down?” you ask tiredly, waiting for his dazed nod to roll your eyes and walk over, tugging him by the arm to sit on your couch before crouching in front of him. 

“You… love… me?” Wonwoo asks dumbly, eyes moving up sluggishly behind his glasses to find yours. 

“Yes, Wonwoo, I love you,” you confirm gently, speaking slowly so he can understand you through the fog your confession put him in, grasping his tepid hands with your own. 

“Wow, that’s so crazy,” he breathes, feeling almost as high as he did that day. 

“I know, right?” you agree, pulling him closer until he shuffles off the couch to sit on his knees in front of you. 

“So, what do we do now?” Wonwoo asks, truly having no idea. 

“Um, I mean we should probably date right? And tell Cheol so he’ll stop being pissed at you. And maybe also have sex without him.” 

Wonwoo loves those ideas, all three, but has a request for the order, “Can we do 1, 3, 2? He’s so mad at me and so scary, and I think I’ll have to grovel more for him to forgive me than I did for you.”

“Mmmmm I think you could afford to do some more groveling for me too, though,” you tease, playing with the collar of his shirt and smirking. 

He feels lightheaded again and hopes you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying.  

“Can I kiss you?” Wonwoo asks as he starts to lean in, waiting for you to tell him yes. 

“Yeah, I think that would be a good start,” you mumble as you press your lips to his, your sentence trailing off into his mouth. 

Wonwoo sighs, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue until you open for him, loosening his hands from yours so he can place both of them on your cheeks to pull you closer. You come willingly, climbing into his lap when he sits down and crosses his legs, straddling his hips and grinding down against his rapidly hardening cock. 

Fuck, the pressure and heat of you feel amazing. 

He hasn’t been able to jerk off as much as usual because when he closes his eyes, he can only see you, squirting and crying and writhing, and he cums way too fast for it to even be enjoyable.

He’s a bit scared that will happen with you, but he plans to make you cum a few times before he even gets his dick in you anyway, so it should work out fine. 

Or at least, that’s what he thought, before you started touching him, running your fingers up and down his abs, palming his pecs, squeezing his deltoids, and shit your hands are so warm and so soft, and he’s wanted you to touch him like this for so long, and if you keep grinding on him like that he’ll-

“Fuck, stop, stop, stop, baby, you have to stop,” Wonwoo pants, stilling your hips with an iron grip, pushing them away from his dick. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask breathlessly, cupping his face and looking into his eyes even as he tries to avoid your gaze out of embarrassment. 

“I was just really really really close to cumming,” he whispers, pursing his lips and hoping you’re not judging him. 

“Oh. You don’t want to?” you sound confused, your brows furrowed and your hips twitching in his grasp. 

“Of course I don’t want to, I wanna be able to fuck you,” Wonwoo explains shyly. 

“Well, how long does it take you to go again?” 

Wonwoo can feel his ears turning red and his eyes wavering behind his glasses as he stares at you in awe. 

“Maybe fifteen minutes,” he replies, astonished. 

You grin, pull his hands from your waist to slide them up onto your breasts, and dig your hips into his. 

Wonwoo can’t stop himself from tipping his head back to rest on the couch, his neck suddenly too weak to hold up the weight as he feels himself start spiraling again. You’re so soft under his hands, so sweet, and Wonwoo wishes he could see you, starts tugging up your shirt until you get the hint and whip it over your head. 

Fuck, you’re not wearing a bra, just like last time, and he tells himself to surprise you at home more often, then remembers he’s your boyfriend now and he’ll get to see you like this whenever you want him to, and that’s enough to push him over the edge. 

His head spins as his cock jumps underneath you, spitting hot cum into his boxers, and he knows he’s being noisy, knows he’s groaning and moaning and possibly even whimpering your name, but he just can’t shut his mouth. 

It feels too fucking good, the first fulfilling orgasm he’s had since you slept together, and now he knows for sure that cumming by himself could never be as euphoric as cumming with you. 

His brain feels heavy, but empty at the same time, and his head tips forward to rest against your sternum as he catches his breath, air puffing out over your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.    

“Quick question,” you start with a thready voice, “how did you cum that last time? Both your hands were busy.” 

“I don’t know,” he tries to figure out how to answer without sounding pathetic, “I just- you- when you squirted, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I don’t know, it was like I blacked out, and when I woke up, my cum was drying on your stomach.”

Okay, so he still sounded pathetic, but you whine, almost like you… 

“Do you like that?” Wonwoo asks slowly, realization growing, “And you liked making me cum in my pants too, didn’t you?”

You squirm in his lap, and Wonwoo smirks, leans forward until you tip onto your back and he can plank above you. He drops a kiss to your nose and shifts up on his knees to yank his shirt off, push his wet boxers down, trying not to cringe at the cold air on his slick cock. 

“You like knowing what you do to me, huh?” Wonwoo trails kisses down your neck, pouting when your shirt gets in the way and raising a brow at you, pulling your top off when you nod. 

“Well, baby?” Wonwoo waits for you to answer.

You stare him down, biting your bottom lip and squirming slightly, before answering, “Yes, I like it, Wonwoo.” 

“I’ll tell you all about your effect on me then,” Wonwoo begins, nipping the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“When you wear these tiny little pajama shorts at sleepovers, I have to keep a pillow in my lap all night, just because your thighs are out and pressed right up against mine,” he says through sucking kisses along your clavicle. 

He grins at your shiver, continues, “Sometimes, I can’t tell you’re not wearing a bra until you hug me, and when I feel your tits on my chest, I have to pull away because I get too hard to hide it.”

Sucking marks down your sternum, Wonwoo keeps going, “I always take the couch and let you have my bed, even when you offer to share, because I know I’ll wake up hard or with dried cum in my pants if I get to sleep next to you.”

He slides back up to your mouth, swallowing your moan and biting your lip between his teeth before sinking down your body again. 

“If you wake up hard tomorrow, can I suck your dick?” you ask, as if he’d say no, and he has to push his face into your stomach to contain loud fuck he wanted to let out. 

“Are you in my brain? How are you my walking wet dream?” Wonwoo almost sounds annoyed, frustrated, and his kisses turn to sucking bites, leaving indents of his teeth all over your soft skin. 

“Don’t get mad at me because you think I’m hot, that’s not fair!” you whine, arching your back into him and making his focus shift to your breasts. 

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he lavishes your tits in soft kisses, sucking alternately at your nipples and squeezing the plush flesh with his fingers. 

He presses his face into your chest and smushes your breasts against his cheeks, breathing you in, surrounding himself in you, and realizes there’s another way to be encompassed by you, a better way. 

“Will you sit on my face?” Wonwoo asks, a bit scared you’ll say no.

You look down at him, smile softly, and reply, “Sure.”

Fuck, Wonwoo thinks he might die.

He tries to smile back before laying down next to you, waiting for you to finish stripping and climb on. 

Shit, why didn’t he notice how wet your shorts were? There’s a visible dark patch, and he figures he’d been messy enough not to notice but fuck, is he noticing now. And of course of course you’re not wearing panties. Wonwoo honestly thinks you were created to kill him. 

What a way to go though, he thinks, as you send him a shy grin and straddle his hips, shuffling forward on your knees until he can grab you by the hips and pull you up to his face. 

He groans when your scent hits him, groans deep in his chest, and you shiver at the air flowing over your soaked pussy. That makes you rest more of your weight on him, and Wonwoo can’t wait to drown in you. 

You’re still holding yourself up though, looking a bit nervous, and Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs so he can smooth his hands up and down the length of them, soothing you slowly until you relax enough for your folds to brush his lips. 

This is already the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and it only gets better when he rubs his nose over your clit and you grind into it. 

Flattening his tongue on your cunt, he drags it from your entrance to the top of your folds, laving over your bundle of nerves before sliding back down to dip inside you. 

You taste even better than last time, no lingering traces of weed in his mouth to cloud your essence, and Wonwoo already knows he’ll do this every day if you let him. 

It might just become his favorite hobby, if the way his cock is already hardening again says anything. 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pulling you down harder on his face, wanting to smother himself in you, and slides two fingers inside you from behind. You clench down immediately, whimpering above him and sinking your hands into his hair to tilt his head back. 

He gets the hint, just holds his tongue out flat and lets you do what you want, lets you ride his face and his fingers, feels his cock jumping against his stomach. 

“Wonwoo, another, give me another, please,” you ask breathlessly, crying out when he tucks his ring finger inside of you too, and curls all three into the patch of nerves deep inside. 

He feels like he’s drowning in the best way, partially because you’re so wet, but mostly because he can’t hear anything, can’t see anything. All he knows is your pussy on his face and shit, he could probably cum untouched from this too. 

You break before he does though, bowing over him, and now he can smell your cunt and your hair and your skin, and thank fucking god you’re already shifting away from his tongue out of sensitivity because he seriously could cum right now. 

He helps you lift off of his face, and gazes fondly as you curl up on your side and catch your breath, staring incredulously at him. 

“How are you so good at that?” you demand, eyebrows scrunched and eyes boring holes into him.

“I’ve been dreaming about you sitting on my face for years, that’s probably it,” Wonwoo responds matter-of-factly, dodging the pillow you lob at him in retribution. 

“What, baby, you liked it before,” he laughs, avoiding the finger attempting to poke his belly.

“Yeah, that was before you made me cum so hard I lost all sense of time and space,” you mutter, shifting to rest on shaky elbows, staring at him contemplatively out of the corner of your eye. 

Wonwoo’s still trying to recover from your previous statement when you say, “I think I want you to bend me over the couch and fuck me from behind.”

He chokes, sputters on nothing but air and the need clawing up his throat, forces his eyes shut and curses you, curses you forever, but not really because he loves you too much and he does want to bend you over the couch and fuck you from behind. 

In fact, he thinks he’d both kill and die for the chance.

So he stands on wobbly knees, extends both hands towards you to pull you up, and drags you over to your couch. The arm is the perfect height for him to fold you over, and you pull a pillow to you so you have something to hold onto as he runs his cock up and down your slit. 

“Can I try something first?” Wonwoo asks tentatively, “I think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah, just don’t put anything in my butt, I’m not ready for that yet,” your voice is muffled in the couch, your ass tilted up, and Wonwoo smooths his hands up your back to squeeze your shoulders, then back down to push your thighs together. 

Placing each hand on a cheek, Wonwoo pulls your ass up and apart so you’re spread open, folds glistening in the daylight, tempting him to take another taste. 

He’s always wanted to try this and never thought he’d have the opportunity, though, so he needs to make the most of it. 

And make the most of it he does, sliding his cock between your thighs and bumping the head against your clit, over and over and over, until your thighs glisten too and his dick is drenched in your wetness, until you’re squirming beneath his hands and whining, until he can see your entrance clench and release, tightening around nothing. 

He thinks he can make you cum like this, but honestly, he’s getting too close, and if he wants to fuck you tonight, he needs to do it now. 

Maybe he can hold out just a little bit longer though, he thinks, rubbing the head of his dick insistently on your clit until you start clawing at the couch and cum with a wail. 

“In me, get in me, Wonwoo, I swear I’ll-,” your voice cuts out when he sinks into you, stretching your pussy around his cock and bottoming out in one stroke. 

You squeak, and Wonwoo squeezes your ass in his hands before moving them to your hips and holding you to the arm of the sofa as he pulls back and thrusts in again. 

“Good?” he asks, waiting for you to respond, “Yes, Wonwoo, fuck yes,” before starting to pound you into the couch. 

You cry out every time he roots his cock inside you, and he moves a hand to press down on the small of your back, tilting your hips up more and angling his down, giving you searching thrusts until he hits something and you seize up around him. 

Targeting that spot each time, Wonwoo fucks in and out of you at a steady pace, ignoring the way his balls are already full and starting to draw up, wanting to get you there one last time before he cums. 

He knows just his dick won’t be enough, so he slides one hand around your hip and sinks it between your thighs, finding your clit with two fingers and starting the circles you’d seemed to like last time. 

Fuck, you get even tighter, and wetter, whining and wiggling under him, trying to meet his thrusts but he’s going too fast, too hard, and your walls start to spasm around him, wetness gushing out of you and dripping down his dick as you cum. 

And shit, Wonwoo wants to fuck you through it, he does, but he just can’t stop the tidal wave swallowing him, can’t stop the roaring in his ears or his eyes from squeezing shut, and he definitely can’t stop the way his cock twitches and starts to spurt white hot cum inside you.

It’s so much better than the one he had before, and Wonwoo can’t stay standing, tips over until he’s spread out on top of you, his hip bones digging into your ass and his dick flooding you with what feels like weeks worth of spend. 

By the time his cock has stopped jumping in you, you’re reaching behind to poke at him, whispering in a strained voice, “Wonwoo, babe, can’t breathe.”

He blinks his eyes open, still dizzy from his orgasm, and lets his body melt to lay on the floor by the couch. You stay on the arm for a second, and Wonwoo has to close his eyes again when he sees his cum starting to drip out of you, white globs seeping from your entrance and sliding down your pussy.

“Can I-” Wonwoo starts, but you interrupt him, responding tiredly, “Yes, please do it, whatever it is. I already know I’ll like it.”

He crawls over, trying to steady his breathing, and spreads your cheeks again, opening up your stretched pussy even more. Your entrance is still fluttering, and your walls probably are too, and he needs to feel you on his tongue. 

He licks into you again, gathering up the cum on your swollen clit and guiding it back to your cunt, pushing it inside before lightly sucking at your entrance.

You still taste so good, even tinged with the salty bitterness of his cum, and he knows he’ll never get enough, shoves his tongue deeper, starts fucking you with it, rotates one hand so he can get his thumb on your clit, and with that, you tumble over the edge again.

Your walls weakly contract around his tongue, and he pets your bundle of nerves gently, bringing you down and licking you clean. 

Wonwoo lets you recover for a bit, but eventually suspects you can’t move so he wraps you up in his arms and hauls you off the couch, settling on the floor with you in his lap. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks, only a little bit concerned. 

“Yeah, I just… I think you broke me,” you mumble into his chest, fatigue obvious in your voice, and Wonwoo tries to hold in his giggle, tries to stop the pleased grin from spreading his lips, but he’s not successful, and you swat feebly at his chest. 

You get distracted by his pecs, caressing the firm muscle, and Wonwoo shivers, looking forward to coming up with more ways to distract you.

For now, he just tries to stand, finds his knees too shaky to carry both of your weight, and deposits you on the couch before hobbling away to get you a damp cloth and new pajamas.

He thinks he has another pair of boxers here too, and finds them in your top drawer along with some sweats and a big t-shirt for you. 

He cleans you up, wiping softly between your legs and making you promise to pee soon, before dressing you and himself and plopping down on the couch, pulling you into his arms. 

You’re warm, always so warm, and you smell so good, and Wonwoo loves you so much, and he remembers he doesn't have to hide it anymore. 

“I love you, baby,” Wonwoo murmurs into your hair, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“Love you too, Woo,” you breathe, holding his gaze and puckering your lips to press a kiss to his thumb. 

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your boyfriend sat at his desk, the bright screen of his monitor lit up his face as he grumbled into his mic, irritated at one of his teammates for allowing him to get killed in the game. it was always attractive to watch him play, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed in concentration and his fingers tapping at his keyboard allowing the veins in his arms to become prominent. it always got your gears turning as you sat on the edge of the bed with your legs tightly crossed, waiting for the opportunity to talk to him.

“baby?” you pout once you see the lobby screen. you watch wonwoo hit the hotkey for his mic as he pushes one of the ears back to listen to you.

“what’s up princess?” he cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head back enough to see the pout on your face. he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re pouting, but he knows exactly what you want, it’s his job after all (at least he thinks it is), as your boyfriend, to know you like the back of his hand. 

“how much longer are you gonna be playing?” you uncross your legs, letting your thighs squeeze together to hopefully help emphasize that you need a little help down there. 

“i promised the boys that i’d be on all night.” he mumbles, seeming to not realize that your neediness was because you were extremely turned on right now. wonwoo has always been a good judge of character, able to read anyone like an open book and know exactly what they’re thinking before they even think it. but when it came to you he preferred to not read you, wanting you to tell him exactly what you wanted when you wanted it, which is why he’s acting oblivious. 

“all night?” you huff, before falling back against the bed already given up on the thought of him coming to fuck your brains out on it. 

“i’m sorry baby,” he laughs softly before cursing quietly, looking at his computer screen. “i’ll cuddle you all night i promise.” he mumbles before he’s unmuting to talk to his friends who started another match without him noticing. 

you grumble to yourself about wanting to get fucked, not cuddled. rolling over onto your stomach you grab your phone that was laying on the bed and you start to aimlessly scroll through all your socials. it felt like forever passed by (it was only five minutes) before you finally sat back up, a brilliant idea popping into your head. 

you remembered a conversation you had with wonwoo awhile back where you discussed the possibility of him fucking you with the boys either watching or listening through their discord. it was no surprise to wonwoo that the boys were physically attracted to you (and maybe even emotionally but that’s something he didn’t want to tap into knowing it would just piss him off) so he agreed that if the time ever came for them to all be in the mood then he’d fuck you with them around in some way. 

with a devilish smile on your face you open up your messages with vernon, knowing he’d actually respond to you out of the three. the message said something along the lines of ‘wonwoo isn’t paying attention to me so im gonna suck him off under the table until he does, do you and the boys wanna fuck with him while i do it?’

it didn’t take long for vernon to text back, saying he’d ask the boys in the next lobby. so now, here you were, kicking your feet impatiently as you watched wonwoo's screen. once the word victory flashed on the screen you squealed quietly, catching your boyfriend's attention. 

“you normally don’t react when i win or lose.” he deafened himself so the boys can’t hear him and he can't hear them. he pulls his headphones down to rest around his neck as he spins in the chair to face you. “do you really want my attention that badly?” he can’t help the way his lips twitch up into the slightest smile, he’ll never admit it but he loves it when you’re desperate for his attention. 

just as you were going to respond you got a message from vernon. ‘we’re all in.’ you can’t help but bite your lip before looking back up at wonwoo, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, knowing exactly what that look was for. 

“i do want your attention but, i know you hate breaking your promises to your boys so how about a compromise?” you slowly slide off the bed to walk up to where he’s sitting. out of instinct wonwoo wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to hold you in place as he looks up at you. god he looked so hot, looking at you like you were the center of his world (and you were). 

“compromise?” he mumbled, his fingers digging into your flesh when you reach your hands out to trail down his chest and stomach, stopping just before the waistband of his sweats. 

“mhm, you can keep playing with your boys and i can just sit under your desk…” you’re slow to drop to your knees in front of him, looking up through your eyelashes. “like this.” his breath catches in his throat, his dick jumping a little in excitement at the sight of you on your knees for him. 

“what if the boys hear?” he mumbles, looking up at the screen where a countdown started signaling they were about to join a new game. “fuck it, just be quiet under there.” he mumbles as he lets you get comfortable under his desk, a happy squeal leaving you making him shake his head with a fond smile on his face. 

you quickly text vernon to tell him that the plan is starting. tossing your phone to the side you make quick work at tugging a wonwoo's sweats and boxers down enough to free his half hard dick, exposing it to the cold air and causing wonwoo to hiss quietly. 

“yeah i’m all good,” he grumbles into his mic before he glances down at you, almost groaning at the sight of you practically drooling over his dick. “just hit my desk, that's all.” he reassures his friends before he focuses back on the game. 

wonwoo is normally good at keeping his composure, he doesn’t lose self control easily and right now he was definitely demonstrating it. he barely paid you half a mind while you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, before leaning in to flick the tip of your tongue over the slit. you took your time, slobbering up his dick so that you can pump your hand up and down it so that he can get fully hard before you take it in your mouth. 

the only indication that you got that your boyfriend was enjoying himself was his legs tensing up and his words were muffled, he was talking through his teeth as he clenched his jaw to keep from moaning. 

“hey man, are you sure you’re good?” mingyu grumbles into his mic, knowing exactly what was wrong. wonwoo lets out a strained “all good.” his jaw clenching harder when you finally take the tip of his dick in your mouth. 

his eyes roll a little as his hand squeezes his mouse tighter, his fingers more aggressively tapping his keys as he tries to distract himself from the warmth of your mouth surrounding his dick. he doesn’t remember getting so hard but he’s not surprised, his body reacted so quickly to you and he should be embarrassed but considering it was you he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“you don’t sound good,” vernon laughs quietly, huffing when he gets downed in the game. “sounds like you got something distracting you.” vernon was thankful they weren’t video chatting so that wonwoo couldn’t see the smirk on his face.

“i’m not distracted.” wonwoo grunts, his hips bucking up into your mouth a little. he has to bite his tongue to keep from groaning at the small sound you made. 

“are you sure?” seungcheol sounded smug, like he knew something and if it wasn’t for the tip of his dick sliding down your throat wonwoo would’ve bit back at the older male. “if i didn’t know any better i would assume y/n was doing something to you.” 

wonwoo’s eyes widened a little as he looked over at discord to make sure his camera wasn’t on. how could cheol possibly know what was going on? in the few seconds that he was distracted someone came up and killed wonwoo, causing him to groan in annoyance (and pleasure). 

“what happened woo?” mingyu pokes at him. “is y/n really sucking your dick or something? is that why you turned to shit all i’ve a sudden?” 

“shut up gyu,” wonwoo hisses, his hand going to grab your hair and push you further down on his dick, desperate to feel more of your throat surrounding him. “you’re just talking shit now.” he tries so hard not to make any sounds that would give him away. 

“talking shit? i’m just telling the truth. it’s not my fault you can’t handle the thought of y/n wrapping her lips around your dick.” mingyu laughs a little, knowing he’s getting under wonwoo's skin while he’s falling apart in your hands (and mouth). 

you swallow a little around the tip of wonwoo's dick to hopefully distract him from arguing back with mingyu and it works surprisingly well when his eyes close and he lets out a loud curse. 

“maybe he’s not imagining y/n’s mouth around his dick.” vernon just stares at his screen, a small smirk playing on his face but his ears are bright red.

“didn’t know you were the type to whine woo.” seungcheol teases. “is she taking you all in? or is she only teasing you?” this was starting to get fun for them as they continued to relentlessly tease and coo dirty things into wonwoo's ears. a lot of it was their own fantasies poking through, how they wished you would suck them off but they’d rather sit on a hot grill than admit that out loud. 

“god fuck you all.” wonwoo moans as his head falls back, his self control completely crumbling as he relishes in the feeling of your mouth. his legs were tensing and his fingers were gripping tighter on your hair, helping you ease all the way down on his dick, your nose brushing against his pelvic. 

“aww you here that he wants to fuck us.” mingyu jokes, and wonwoo was about to cuss him out but instead he stumbled over his words, your hand had slipped into his boxers to squeeze at his balls. 

“fuck, y/n such a good girl.” wonwoo mumbles in a haze, his orgasm fast approaching now that you’ve taken up messaging his balls. 

“she is a good girl.” one of the guys breathed out, it was hard for wonwoo to tell as his blood rushed in his ears, his hips bucking up more aggressively as his orgasm was right there, and just as he was ready to unload down your throat you manage to pull yourself off his dick. he gasps in surprise and stutters. 

“why’d you stop?” he looked at you with wide eyes while panting softly. 

“beg.” you smirk up at him, you thought you had the upper hand here since he was basically putty in your hands.

“what?” his eyes went from surprised to ‘are you serious?’.

“you heard me.” the boys were muttering in wonwoo's ears about how you were being a little brat, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you ripped his orgasm away wonwoo would’ve told them off for calling you a brat (not that they were wrong but only he got to call you that). 

in one quick movement wonwoo grabs your hair again and tugs you up so he can come face to face with you, an almost malicious smirk on his face. he mumbles against your lips, asking you to repeat yourself again. 

“i want you to be-“ before you can finish your sentence wonwoo is pushing you back down to sit on your heels. he tugs your head down and growls at you to put his dick back in your mouth, and he almost misses the way his friend breathing hitched. you were happy to have his dick back in your mouth, your eyelashes flutter as you look back up at him. you knew what was coming and you were fully prepared for wonwoo's wrath (though you hope that he doesn’t withhold any orgasms from you like you did to him).

he definitely isn’t nice in the way he pushes you fully down on his dick, your throat already prepped to deepthroat him.  

“you wanna be a little brat?” he groans as he holds your head down on his dick, causing you to gag a little (not that you cared, you were just happy that he finally lost control). “have my friends whisper dirty shit in my ears while you gagged on my dick?” he grunts when you swallow, the warmth of your throat squeezing around him deliciously. “well now you’re gonna take everything i give you while they get to listen.” he rips his headphones off his head, and with one hand he adjusts them on yours so you can hear everything his friends are doing and they can clearly hear all the wet lewd sounds of wonwoo fucking your throat. 

vernon let’s out a string of curses, his head falling back against his gaming chair as he listened to the way he can tell that wonwoo's dick is far down your throat. he didn’t want to think about how big his friends dick was but he also couldn’t help but imagine just how much you could take in that pretty mouth of yours. 

mingyu was shamelessly moaning, his hand shoved down his pants and the loud sound of his hand jerking himself off could be picked up by his expensive mic. his forehead was resting on his desk as the only thing he could think about was wonwoo's quiet grunts and your loud gagging and occasional moaning. 

seungcheol was in a similar position as vernon, his head hanging off the back of his chair, his eyes closed as he contemplated his next words. teasing wonwoo was one thing, it was fun even but after hearing you he couldn’t help the way his cock jumped in his pants.

“fuck you sound so pretty.” vernons voice felt hoarse, his throat gone dry but he couldn’t stand not saying anything. he felt like he needed to say something because god did you really sound so pretty. 

“so pretty.” mingyu breathes out in between his moans, his hand speeding up when he notices that wonwoo sped up as well. it’s not that he was relying on wonwoo to determine how fast he jerked himself off but he didn’t want to prematurely finish before the fun was over. 

“sound like such a good girl.” seungcheol groans lowly, his own hand palming over the tent in his pants, his own self control jumping out the window. “are you a good girl y/n?” you nod your head around wonwoo's dick before realizing they can see you, so you hum to acknowledge seungcheol words. 

“fuck.” wonwoo groans at the vibrations from you humming around his dick. “are they making pretty sounds for you kitten?” you hum again as you swallow around his dick again, drawing a louder groan from your boyfriend. 

his fingers dig into your scalp as he fucks your throat faster, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. the boys could definitely hear him loud and clear but he could care less at this point, there was no shame anymore as he relentlessly bucks his hips up. 

wonwoo's orgasm was fast approaching again, the coil winding itself back up as his moans got more airy. his legs began to tense up and he was for sure going to get a cramp in them until you started smoothing your hands over his thighs. despite how ruthless he was fucking into your mouth and how blurred your vision was from tears you couldn’t help but think he looked so pretty, his hair messed up from his headphones being pulled off and his eyes squeezed closed as his jaw fell slack. 

“god, fuck.” he curses loudly as he finally cums down your throat, his hips still bucking up as he rides his orgasm out. you make the lewdest gagging sound ever as you struggle to swallow his cum while having his dick still shoved down your throat. “shit.” he finally pulls out of your mouth, watching how a thick string of saliva and cum connect your mouth and his dick. “so pretty.” he sighs fondly as he gently wipes your lips before grabbing your chin to tug you up to sit in his lap. 

your thin pajama pants were soaked through from how aroused you were. he couldn’t help but sigh contently at the warmth of your clothed cunt sitting on top of his semi hard dick. he coos quietly at you as he takes the headphones off your head, messing your hair up even more but neither of you cared, especially when you two were able to hear mingyu cum through the headphones as vernon curses about how hot that was and cheol mumbles that he’s still extremely hard. 

“that was hot.” you mumble loud enough for the boys to hear you through the mic as you settle down in wonwoo's lap, getting comfortable in the minimal space you two had on the gaming chair. your boyfriend had a lazy smirk on his face, he was always the type to want to sleep after sex but he was far from done with you tonight, and despite the fatigue he was starting to feel he was definitely going to ruin you.  “what do you boys think i should do to her next?” wonwoo mumbles into his mic once he has his headphones back on, this time he was gonna give them something to listen to as they tell him how to fuck you. 

your heart sinks at her dejection. you didn’t even know how to answer it without your heart wilting in sadness, so you take to playing with her hair to distract the sad thoughts from blooming.

“we’re still friends,” you answer, though you don’t sound convincing even to yourself. “mr. cheol has just… he’s been busy. you know he teaches his own class as well,”

“but he would always come and say hello! even in class!” you gently put a finger to your lips and glance at the other students, and soo-ah pouts but lowers her voice. “i miss him…”

something in your chest breaks. “me too, sweetheart.” your voice is a whisper as you hold her close, head resting atop hers. “me, too.”

nap time comes and goes, but the silent treatment remains firm.

you pass jeonghan in the halls a few times, running errands in between breaks, and you try your best to inquire about his closest friend without seeming too imposing. he just shrugs, aura of nonchalance off putting at front, but the look he sends you says otherwise.

“cheol’s stubborn,” he murmurs over the copy machine, a helping hand in your towers of worksheets needed in the next thirty minutes. “it’s not the first time i’ve had to pull his head out of his ass.”

you frown slightly, nudging his shoulder, and jeonghan snorts.

“that’s cute. defending his honor even when he’s been radio silent.”

“hannie,”

“i’m just saying,” he relents, but his mirth never leaves. “besides. i wouldn’t take it personally. he’s head of field day this year and has been really busy, though. try talking to him then, yeah?”

your answering okay is less enthusiastic at the timeline, but your thank him nonetheless with a faint smile as your worksheets finish printing. the moment you slip out of the office and the door clicks shut, jeonghan whips his phone out to fire off a slew of texts.

jh: can’t believe i’m playing middle man because you’re too afraid to ask if she’s actually seeing him -_-

jh: you have until field day to get yourself together, you big oaf

jh: you’re lucky i didn’t tell her you’re hiding out in your office because you can’t face her ….

his phone dings not too long after.

sc: yeah yeah.

sc: thanks.

jeonghan rolls his eyes.

jh: you can thank me when you finally make a MOVE !!

summer is bright on the horizon, the sun beaming down its pretty rays for all to bask in, and you shed your hoodie lest you begin to sweat through it. a few whistles and friendly cheers follow suit, and you all but wave them off cheekily, striking a silly pose that makes your students gathered around you burst into giggles.

joshua’s borrowed baseball cap nestled comfortably on your head, you grin down at all fifteen of them with newfound vigor. it was your first field day as a pledis elementary teacher, but you figured the same rules applied to any regular old sports filled day—fight hard, play fair, but win at all costs. and you expected nonetheless from each and every one of your little fighters.

clapping twice to gain their attention, you place your hands on your legging-clad thighs to lower yourself to their level. “are we ready to play?”

“yeah!” soo-ah and a few other pump their fists in the air, and your heart swells at their enthusiasm.

“are we ready to win?”

“yeah!” wriggling in excitement, a few of your boys begin taunting the nearby classes, and you look up to share amused glances with joshua, yaerin, and a few other teachers.

“your kids definitely seemed pumped,” joshua greets when you usher them to the starting line of the egg spoon race, hands propped on your hips after you step back. “must be something in the air?”

“it’s definitely contagious,” you agree, but you throw him a sly look. “i definitely think soo-ah was born with it, though. she looks ready to eat your poor kids alive…”

true to your word, the glint in soo-ah’s brown eyes is especially noticeable on the field, quickly claiming the leader title and dividing her classmates into sections according to each game. if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought she’d been planning this for months.

“don’t come crying to me when you get bested by my students,” you tease, and joshua shoves your shoulder playfully in response. the two of you laugh amongst yourselves for a bit, and in the midst of your jostling, you spot… him.

joshua relents at your distracted state and follows your gaze to where seungcheol stands with his assistant, vernon, and jeonghan. you recognized vernon from your last board meeting, blunt commentary making it almost impossible to keep a straight face, and you raise a hand to wave slightly.

vernon waves back, hollering something no doubt crudely hilarious, and joshua snickers when jeonghan slaps his shoulder in response. you’re not looking at them, though.

neither is he.

“you guys are so gross.” joshua pretends to gag when he notices, and tugs you over to where yaerin stands leading a playful chant with his students. “tell yn she’s being gross and in love.”

“you’re being gross and in love,” your best friend repeats without missing a beat, and to your horror, the students repeat that as well.

“miss yn is being gross! and in L-O-V-E!”

“joshua hong and kim yaerin, i swear to all things sweet and holy—”

“miss yn is being gross! and in L-O-V-E!” they join the chant with matching smirks, even doing a strangely coordinated dance that sends them both and his students into hysterics. you groan, thoroughly embarrassed by the curious glances you receive, but can’t help the grin you try to hide behind your palm.

this field day was definitely going to be interesting.

“are we having a good time??”

seungkwan grins behind the megaphone as the crowd before him erupts into cheers, students stomping their feet enthusiastically. seungcheol stands next to him looking pleased, and your smile softens at the sight of him looking happy.

it’s not for you, though. the brim of joshua’s cap hides the falter in your gaze.

“so! the scoreboard for this year’s field day is very close. as you all know, mr. hong’s class—”

“it’s joshua!” he hollers from beside you, hands cupped around his mouth as he grins mischievously. “we’re not in class, kwannie, we can be a little informal!”

seungkwan’s expression deadpans in his direction amongst the titters of scattered laughter and muffled snorts, and you all but roll your eyes in good nature.

“as you all know,” seungkwan repeats flatly, “joshie’s class came first last year—”

joshua makes an offended sound at the nickname, and you duck your head to poorly hide your laugh.

“—during the students’ games. but cheol’s team came first in the staff dodgeball game.”

a low murmur rises above the crowd and joshua squints in amusement. you can feel cheol’s stare in your direction, but you don’t meet his eyes.

“same rules apply as last game: the staff will be split in two through a game of rock paper scissors. if you get hit, you’re out, but only below the shoulder. we don’t want a repeat of last year.”

you’re about to turn to ask joshua what could have possibly happened, but soonyoung’s outraged hey! prompts enough laughter to garner a general idea.

“the reigning champion is captain of one team of course,” seungkwan continues, “and this year’s opposing team captain is….”

joshua grips your arm. seungcheol’s gaze narrows, and seungkwan grin takes on a cheshire look.

“yn!”

your jaw drops in surprise, but you quickly mask it with a fierce grin despite your heart hammering in your chest. “i accept!”

the cheers swarm around your head as you excuse yourself up to the stand, waving out to the crowd as you stand next to seungkwan.

“yn’s debut is already impressive! her class is already ranked first in all the games,” seungkwan appraises you with an impressed nod, “but will she keep it up until the end of the game!

“yes she will!”

you grin as soo-ah’s voice pipes up from the crowd, waving eagerly up at you sporting a wide smile to match yours. your students are quick to pick up on the cheer, and soon, the crowd is chanting your name as you beam with pride.

“yn’s got some fans, i see,” seungkwan raises a brow. “but i don’t see cheol wavering one bit! typical of our reigning champion.”

“i won’t go down without a fight,” seuncheol states smoothly, and for a moment, meets your gaze. “let’s hope she can keep up.”

“with the way you complain about your back? it’s you i’m worried about,” you shoot back, and he makes to shake your arm in retaliation but is stopped by seungkwan’s arm.

“let’s save it for the battlefield,” he grins. “may the seventh annual teacher’s dodgeball game begin!”

the games of rock paper scissors are quick and brutal, and you sweep your gaze across your team with a stern expression. joshua, minghao, vernon amongst your team, you nod a quick greeting to the others you vaguely remember and flash a smile.

“hey everyone. i’m new here as you all know,” you address the team, and they all snap to attention. “but i’ve never let that deter me from getting what i want. i’m here to win and won’t expect anything else from each one of you.”

you place a hand in front of you, determined and steady. “are we in it to win, or are we here to be played?”

joshua and vernon immediately place their hands over yours with grins to match, and one by one, you see the spirit filter through everyone else.

“let’s crush the other team.”

turning around, you point to seungcheol with a lazy smirk as your team cheers behind you.

“prepare to eat grass!”

vernon cracks up at the play on words. you don’t hear his answering holler due to jeonghan tugging him in the opposite direction, but his expression says everything you need to know. he wasn’t backing down from this game, but neither were you.

“well this is an interesting turn of events.”

seungkwan looks insanely pleased, leaning forwards from his announcer’s post. visor blocking the sun from blinding his view, he brings his megaphone to his lips once more.

“looks like we’ve boiled down to just two players—our beloved captains, no less.”

ball in hand, you pay no mind to seungkwan’s hosting as you focus on the player before you. emptyhanded, he has two balls on either side of him that he doesn’t reach, gaze locked on your every move. he knows if he bolts for either one, you’ll tag him out as soon as he turns his back—and it’ll be game over, his winning history halting to a stop.

seungcheol frowns, his predicament dire, and hisses quietly when you move opposite him when he inches closer to the ball on the left. he looks fed up, brows furrowed, and you can’t help the cocky smile that spreads across your lips at the sight.

“what’s the matter?” you coo, and mirror his movements as he makes another failed attempt. “they’re right there… only a few steps and you’d have one.”

yn, no flirting on the field! someone that suspiciously sounds like yaerin shouts, and you stifle a giggle at the retort.

“you’re a piece of work,” seungcheol groans, and shakes his head.

“you like it,” is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and it stuns you both.

what?

his eyes widen, lips parted as he stands straighter, and you take your chance before he can form any words about your slip up. your ball hits his leg and he grunts, the ball ricocheting from the force of your throw before he can grasp it.

seungkwan’s whistle echoes in your ears and you fall to the grass in relief.

soo-ah bolts out of joshua’s arms and careens into you at full speed, yelling excitedly as your team and students burst into cheers. you’re knocked flat on your back but you laugh, hugging the girl to your grass stained shirt with a grin. your name is chanted as you’re hoisted up and onto joshua and vernon’s shoulders, and you allow yourself to laugh and wave as seungkwan hands you a little trophy.

“congratulations to yn leading her team to victory in her first year!” he points to your grinning face, “we expect to see great things from you.”

the crowd disperses for food and drinks after you’re congratulated more times than you can count, but the one person you’re looking for is no where to be found. handing soo-ah your trophy, to which she squeals in delight and rushes to boast about, you spot him loitering near a secluded area and you approach him with caution.

“…hi.” your voice makes him look up, and you suppress a shiver as his gaze washes over the green patches on your white tee. you offer a smile, “no hard feelings?”

he simply holds your gaze, silence becoming too much to bare, so you open your mouth to rattle off an excuse and slip away—but he stops you with a hand on your arm and draws you close.

“you’re a piece of work,” he murmurs, and flicks the brim of your cap. you shoot him a dirty look and he smiles, finally, when you fix it. “but i do like it.”

you freeze, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “that was just shit talking,” you laugh nervously, hands waving. “i didn’t mean it—”

“but i do like it,” he repeats, and his smile turns fond. “i like you.”

oh.

your hands drop to your sides, lips parted in surprise. “you do? i mean, i thought it was obvious that i liked you—i mean, what—”

he laughs and you pull the cap further down on your head. seungcheol only lowers himself so you meet his eyes in your sheepish state, and a pretty smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“i want to take you out for lunch. for real,” he adds with a pointed look, and you bat at his arm. “maybe…. this friday? after classes?”

“i’ll smell like glue,” you retort weakly.

“it beats the smell of the gym any day.”

bonus:

soo-ah watches the two of you proudly from where she’s perched in seungkwan’s lap, and high-fives him when seungcheol pulls you into a hug.

“i still can’t believe she planned on this,” yaerin stares at the little girl in awe. “is every kid in the school a genius?”

“no,” joshua snorts, “just this one.”

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you laugh, relenting with a short nod, and gently motion for her to return back to her seat. the small body squeezing past you to no doubt gossip amongst her peers, you step out into the hall and lean against the propped door with crosse arms.

“so,” you start, fighting off the smile on your lips for a more professional look (for the sake of your kids and any… nosy individuals who happened to eavesdrop), your fingers tapping lightly against your arms. “what was so urgent you had to interrupt lower level math?”

he smiles, teasing despite your air of appearing composed, and plays along. “i bought lunch,” he answers smoothly, and jabbing a thumb in the general direction of the teacher’s lounge, adds, “and i want you to eat with me.”

choi seungcheol. somewhat of a godsend aide to the peaceful life you’d hoped to have ever since you’d been hired at pledis elementary, the prestigious primary school every parent dreamed of sending their children too. he’d taken you under his wing once you’d found yourself lost on your way to your first board meeting, a mess of frazzled nerves and energy. since then, he’s been nothing but a friendly familiar face in the halls, introducing you to other members of the staff and helping you get acquainted and settled easily.

so essentially, you owed your comfortability to him. for all it’s worth, you’ve tried to repay his kindness with promises of coffee or helping out with his work, but he’d turned every single attempt down with a grin that did little to stamp down the itty bitty crush you’d developed on him.

“yn?” you blink, momentarily dazed, and return back to focus when he peers at you curiously. heat prickles at the back of your neck at the concern flickering in his eyes, and in a rush, a small laugh slips past your lips.

“sorry—they had art before this and i think i inhaled a little too much glue… fumes.” you clear your throat, your smile fond, “kids, right?”

all his concern melts into amusement and you thank all your stars in the sky for quick wit and the habits of small children. “right,” his voice drawls, and he reaches out to pat your arm teasingly. “like that beats the smell of the gym after classes?”

your mouth falls open at the jab, and his laugh echoes against the walls. “are you seriously trying to one-up me over ridiculous smells?” this man was going to be the death of you.

the bell rings, signaling the end of that class period, and he begins to walk backwards with a cheesy smile. “lunch, remember.”

you roll your eyes, but nod in good nature. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

turning back to the class, you jump slightly at the intense stares of fifteen pairs of eyes on you. soo-ah, the little girl who had greeted seungcheol before you, stands up and raises her hand.

wary, you nod in her direction. “yes, soo-ah?”

“are you and mr. cheol dating?”

you don’t even know how to begin to answer that one.

“he what?!”

you’re quick to shush your hallway companion as you lead your respective classes down to the lunch hall, glancing back at the children tottering behind you with their lunchboxes in hand. they stare up at your and your class hall neighbor, joshua hong, with wide eyes, and you discreetly pinch his arm as you plaster a smile on your faces.

“is everyone ready for lunch?” you ask sweetly, and your heart melts at the chorus of yes that obediently follows suit. soo-ah and one of joshua’s students link hands, and you smile down at them. cute little line leaders.

“alright, then.” you clasp your hands together, and with joshua holding the door open, you lead the students to their lunch tables and let them get seated. you hover over each student and make sure they’re all accounted for, napkins placed in their laps, and settle down on a nearby table with joshua and few other teachers.

“they’re so cute when their faces are all stuffed with food,” joshua’s teacher’s help, yaerin, was saying. she smiles when you seat yourself next to her, and you squeeze her arm gently in hello. “they look like little hamsters!”

“that’s what i said!” soonyoung from down the hall exclaims, and everyone laughs as they high five over their heads. “look at their little cheeks…”

amicable silence drapes over your table as you all coo gently at the little ones giggling amongst themselves.

“so, anyone have plans?” seungkwan pipes, digging into his lunch. waving a utensil around, he adds, “details about their love life, and the sort.”

joshua merely grins, coming off as the picturesque of a gentleman, but you cut him off before he can even say a word. “actually,” you toss him a glare, to which he simply raises his hands up in surrender. “i was supposed to have lunch with seungcheol today.”

taking a bite of your food, you chew thoughtfully for a moment, humming in content as everyone stares at your with varied looks of exasperation, amusement, and bewilderment. it makes you frown, picking up a napkin to dab at your lips self consciously, and you turn to yaerin, whose brows have risen so high they hide beneath her bangs.

“did i say something wrong?” you look around the table in defeat, and joshua muffles a snort into his fist. “seriously! what did i say wrong?”

“you said you’re having lunch with seungcheol,” minghao pipes up from where seungkwan looks like he wants to have your head. if not for him, you’re sure your boisterous friend would have shaken all the marbles out of your head.

“yes? so what?”

minghao arches a brow. “you’re having lunch with us. he isn’t here. we’ll wait until you make the connection.”

you stare at the table with furrowed brows, hands stilled over your lunch. why did it feel like there was something you were missing? nagging at your brain, insistent on your remembering—

your eyes widen, and minghao nods, reassured. “there she is.”

“i’m an idiot,” you gasp, scrambling up from your seat as you pack your lunch. soonyoung and yaerin giggle as seungkwan buries his face into his hands and groans, and joshua merely grins.

“glad you noticed. go,” he shoos you away with a knowing look, “we’ll watch the kids. go!”

you flash a thankful smile on your dash out of the hall and into the hallway once more, stumbling over your feet in a rush. heart pounding in your chest and stomach growling as you glance down at your lunch pitifully, you chastise yourself for forgetting about… what could you even call it? was it a date? could even date on school grounds?

the sole thought of dating him made your stomach turn like a giddy school girl with a hopeless crush. maybe you really did get your sense knocked out by glue fumes.

you slow your gait as you near the teacher’s lounge, heart climbing into your throat. would he be mad? did he think you’d bailed on him? would he hate you? you would certainly be a little miffed if someone you’d invited for lunch didn’t show up without a reason—so you figured you’d give him the truthful explanation if he’d stuck around long enough to wait.

slowly, you push the door open to the spacious room quietly, bag clutched to your chest, and bite your lip anxiously as you survey the room. you spot seokmin and chan from higher level creative arts conversing quietly in a corner and nod when they both wave in greeting. seokmin silently points towards one of the small offices, and you thank him on your way over.

“he looks like someone shat in his cheerios,” chan comments cheerfully as you walk past the duo. shaking your head, you hear seokmin smack his arm and chan’s blunt what? following suit almost puts a smile on your face.

the door to the quiet room squeaks against its hinges when you open it, and seungcheol looks up as you freeze in the entryway with a bashful grin.

“hi…” you mumble, remorse written all over your features, and you draw yourself towards a seat facing him. setting your lunch on the table, you squeeze the back of the chair and sigh. “i’m so sorry, seungcheol—i didn’t mean to be late. i lost track of time and—”

“it’s alright, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” drawing your gaze up to his face, relief floods through your body at his reassuring smile. pulling out the chair when he gestures for you to sit, he resumes eating his lunch with a teasing look. “i’m sure whatever was holding you wasn’t too bad.”

you groan, rolling your eyes, and reopen your lunch. “joshua’s such a little shit,” you mumble, more to yourself than him, but seungcheol straightens up.

“joshua?” you look up at him quizzically and nod, chewing thoughtfully. “as in…”

“mr. hong? mm, he said being called that reminds him of his grandfather and that he’s not that age yet,” you snort. “he’s the teacher in the classroom across from mine, we were taking our classes down together.”

“i see,” seungcheol murmurs, and if you’d looked any closer, you would have seen the slight frown tugging at his lips.

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“Yes,” you huff, remembering how someone bumped into you as soon as you stepped out of the subway, making you drop one of your grocery bags. The person did not even bother to look back. “Jihoon, I want to go home.”

“How old are you again?” your best friend teases. Even from miles away, you could make up his face as he speaks with you. “You’ll be fine. Remember that your boss had said it’s a temporary relocation. Once you’re done with whatever you have to complete in Seoul, then you can come back home.”

“I doubt,” you answer as you finish organizing the last few containers. “Launching this project in Changwon took them 2 years to fully establish. It’s Seoul, I know, many things are more accessible here; for sure we’ll have more chances of finding competent potentials here to kickoff the project with me. But still, I don’t think I can do this in six months; one year at the least, maybe, if I work hard enough.”

Jihoon hums, agreeing, then proceeds to ask when the rest of your team would arrive. You briefly explain their itinerary and tell him that you’re also in collaboration with HR to ensure that enough manpower will be available by next week. You ask about the project that Jihoon is also working on; he tells you he will most likely visit Seoul, too, and it excites you until he reminds you of what you’ve been trying to avoid since you arrived. 

“Wonwoo lives in Seoul. At least you have someone you know,” he says, voice reluctant. “I mean, that is if you need help settling. I know you don’t have a lot of relatives up there, but you know, just in case you need someone to remind you of home.”

You laugh at the last statement. Jihoon sighs, knowing how stupid he sounded just now. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s not like I stopped being in contact with him after, you know, and it would be nice.”

“What would be nice?”

“You know, to catch up and all,” he answers, yawning. You look at the time, nine in the morning, Jihoon probably hasn’t had a wink of sleep. 

You stay silent, sitting on the stool from your kitchen island, looking at your phone as if you’re waiting for him to say something more. 

“It would be nice,” he repeats. “You were friends for a long time before you dated. It would be nice to have someone in the lonely, noisy city.”

You hum, still not willing to say anything. Jihoon knows that you never like talking about this, about Wonwoo. 

“I mean, it has been how long?” Three years. “Two? Three years now, right? I’m sure Wonwoo’s moved on. I’m sure you have, too. Right?”

Being friends all throughout high school, dating as soon as you go into college, Wonwoo leaving as soon as the three of you graduated, you and him not being able to handle the distance—of course. Of course. You should have been able to move on at this point. Three years should be long enough for someone to move on. Three years should have allowed you to see someone else, to get rid of your feelings from the starry-eyed boy whose dreams are as vivid as yours. 

Jihoon calls your name. “You there?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I’m here.”

You’re here, in Seoul, miles away from Changwon, but here also means right where Wonwoo left you. 

***

Kwon Soonyoung is a long-distance friend of Jihoon, which by default makes you a friend of his, too. He and Jihoon used to live next to each other when the latter temporarily moved to Seoul to be trained for his current job. Soonyoung is vibrant and loud like the city, but kind and warm like home. He helps you familiarize yourself with the city and gives you a list of places to visit nearby where your live and work. He shows you which subway or bus stop to go to certain places and helps you settle in further. 

A month into living in Seoul, you’re finally getting used to it. The rush still bothers you sometimes, but it’s better now, thanks to Soonyoung. 

“Do you like this place?” he asks, mouth full as he chews on the grilled beef you had just served for him. 

You nod, taking a piece of meat into your mouth. 

“I’m glad,” he says. “This is me and my best friend’s favorite place. We come here every weekend to drink. He doesn’t really drink, but he eats a lot and takes me home to make sure I don’t die. Jihoon knows him, too, apparently. Small world, if you ask me. Wonwoo used to go to the same college as Jihoon.”

You almost choke. Soonyoung quickly hands you a glass of water and asks if you’re okay. 

Small world, my ass. The universe should might as well just punch you in the gut. 

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out. “Jeon Wonwoo.”

“Yes,” Soonyoung exclaims. “You know him, too? That’s—wait, that actually makes sense. You and Jihoon have been best friends since birth. Of course, you know Wonwoo.”

“Soonyoung,” you say, catching your breath after chugging the glass of water. “We have been hanging out for two, three weeks now. Why haven’t you ever mentioned Jeon Wonwoo?”

What difference would have it done? You would have avoided Soonyoung at all costs, wouldn’t have bothered to befriend this bright, kind man across you. Then, that would minimize the chances of ever seeing Jeon Wonwoo in Seoul until you have to go back home. 

Soonyoung shrugs. “He’s been busy. But he should be free next weekend, so we can meet up here then—“

“No,” you cut him off and visibly, you could see how Soonyoung’s mouth form into a pout. “No, Soonyoung. Sorry.”

“Why?” He asks. “Wonwoo is not that bad. He’s a little cold, but he’s not that bad. You should know if you had known him back in Changwon. I mean, Jihoon is the coldest person in the universe, so Wonwoo is not half bad.”

“It’s not like that, Soonyoung,” you sigh, picking up a piece of radish and shoving it in your mouth. 

The man across you is puzzled for a minute, chewing on another piece of meat with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Soonyoung suddenly gasps when it dawns to him. “Oh my God.”

“Shut up.” He knows. 

“You’re the ex,” he exclaims. “Holy shit!”

“Shut up, Soonyoung.”

“You are!” He repeats. “You’re the ex that got him so fucked up on his first year here in Seoul!”

“That’s rude,” you remark. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Oh, I am so going to call Jihoon later. This should be fun.”

***

What are the odds of meeting Jeon Wonwoo for the first time in three years?

More than half month ago, back in Changwon, chances were nearly zero. Wonwoo completely moved to Seoul and never bothered to return since he left. His father and brother had already moved to Seoul, too; Wonwoo never really had a reason to go back. 

Weeks ago, chances were little to likely. You are in Seoul. It is a big city, but bumping into him wasn’t completely impossible. 

Two weeks ago, chances were most likely. After learning that Soonyoung had been friends with him for three years, it’s definitely a possibility to see him one of these days. 

But here, in a small cafe at the corner of the street leading the way to your workplace, you would think that it’s less likely. There are thousands of cafes across Seoul, a wide variety of themes scattered along the busy streets, and it’s not very likely for you to meet Jeon Wonwoo in this place. 

Yet here he is. Right in front of you. Sitting right across you as if it’s the easiest thing to do. 

“So, uhh,” he starts, clearing his throat and setting his clasped hands on top of the table between you. “Seoul. How is it?”

You shrug, looking anywhere but him. “It’s alright. Too noisy—“

“I figured,” he interrupts but apologizes right away. “I mean. It’s different. From home. So, I figured it would be too noisy for you.”

Jeon Wonwoo is different, and it’s not like you expected him to remain the same after all these years, because you, too, are an entirely different person now. His hair is fixed, cut clean and pushed back from his forehead so that it doesn’t cover his eyes. Eyeglasses are nowhere to be found; you reckon he’s wearing transparent contacts to help with his sight. He’s wearing a suit and a tie, something you seldom saw back in Changwon, and he’s more confident now. He doesn’t look away when he talks. He doesn’t look like the Wonwoo you had known. 

The Wonwoo you had known never would have approached you as soon as you stepped in the cafe. The Wonwoo you had known would have pretended he never saw you and ran away. The Wonwoo you had known would have shot a text to Jihoon to let him know that he saw you, so that you would initiate a conversation with him next time because you knew that he was too shy to say hi first.

In the end, you don’t really know a Jeon Wonwoo at present. He doesn’t know you at the same time. 

“Jihoon said the same thing,” he continues, filling the awkward air with words you could barely absorb because you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he really is sitting right across you. “When he moved here for a while. I also thought of the same thing during my first few months here.”

You hum. The barista calls both your names just in time before another wave of awkward silence could take over you. 

Wonwoo abruptly stands and tells you he’ll take both your orders. You let him. Your legs probably do no have enough strength to stand on its own at this time. 

He comes back with both your orders combined in one tray. You’re glad you didn’t get anything to eat, otherwise you might have to vomit your insides out with how much your stomach is shaking. 

“You sure you don’t want to eat anything?” He asks as he sets your drink in front of you. “The strawberry shortcake here is nice. Even the tiramisu is to die for.”

You shake your head. “I should get going,” you answer instead. “I just dropped by for some coffee. I need to go back to work.”

Wonwoo nods as he sips into his drink. “You work right down the street, right? I texted Jihoon while ordering, I hope you don’t mind. I asked him where you worked. I should have just asked you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “But I should really go.”

Wonwoo pulls out his phone and slides it in front of you. The screen tells you he’s asking for your number. 

“Please allow me to take you out for lunch,” he asks. “Let’s catch up.”

If your heart was galloping two minutes ago, at this point it’s in a fucking drag race. It’s not a good feeling and you do not trust yourself enough for things like this. 

“Wonwoo,” you sigh. “I don’t think we should.”

“Why not?” He asks. “It’ll be alright. Besides, I’ve been meaning to ask Jihoon for your number anyway, ever since he told me you had moved here. I can help you fi—“

“Wonwoo, please,” you reply. Wonwoo stops. And this is the only time you actually look at his eyes. 

His eyes soften when he notices the way your face winces in distress. Worry clouds the windows to his soul, and this lets you know that this Wonwoo may not entirely different from the Wonwoo you had known. 

“Please,” you say again. “I’m not even sure why I agreed to sit across you, let alone give you my number and let you in again.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“You left, remember?” you reply. Wonwoo doesn’t answer. “You left. I could have waited for you, or uprooted my entire life so I could follow you here if you had a little more patience. A little more understanding.”

You have no idea where this burst of emotions are suddenly coming from, but it’s here now and you are not going to contain it. 

“I don’t think I can be friends with you again, Wonwoo,” you continue. “It’s—it’s not right. It’s not good. For me. It’s not good for me, and I don’t think I am ready to reconnect with you in any form. I’m sorry, Wonwoo.”

“No,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

You nod and take your cup of coffee, bowing your head a little. “I’ll see you around.”

Wonwoo watches you leave.

***

You don’t drink a lot, and it reminds you why you, Jihoon, and Wonwoo were closer to one another compared to the rest of your friendship group back in college. The three of you were, by default, the ones responsible to take everyone home safely.

It was a routine back in college. So long as nobody has to attend some kind of practice on the weekend (swimming, football, debate club, theater – name it), everyone from your group would meet up at the same place at seven every Friday night. You, Wonwoo, and Jihoon knew everyone’s dormitories and were always in a conquest to ensure everyone would have hangover soup and aspirin ready by the time they wake up in the morning.

The flashes of memories make you smile as you down on another shot of alcohol, and man, do you wish Jihoon could keep you company. Both of you would have been so shitfaced by the third shot, careless and honest strings of words thrown at each other. As soon as alcohol has reached your system, you and him become emotional turmoils. You and him, despite being fully grown adults, are still terrible drinkers.

And you wonder if Wonwoo had learned how to handle his alcohol tolerance better.

The drink is hot when it slides down your throat, but you like it better than the feeling in your chest.

Jeon Wonwoo is the greatest love of your life.

It had always felt like he was a gift from the sky, like a star who fell comfortably on your hands, sharing his light and warmth whenever he was close. The star himself winked his vibrance amidst the void surrounding you – just in time when you were going through growing pains.

High school wasn’t the best time of your life, unlike any other person you may ask. It was when you were still trying to get to know yourself better while juggling school and family matters. Jeon Wonwoo had sat at the back of the class, as though he’s the furthest star from the sky, but his light extended far enough for you to see him.

Wonwoo has always been handsome, even when he had gained some weight on his cheeks in sophomore year and when he decided to get a K-Idol type of haircut that didn’t quite suit him. He was quiet and timid, wouldn’t talk to you unless you approach him first, but was subtly funny when he starts becoming comfortable. Wonwoo and Jihoon’s similarities made them friends, and you had to start competing against Wonwoo for the title of Jihoon’s best friend as soon as you noticed how much Jihoon adores the boy.

The three of you were inseparable. But it was always different with Wonwoo.

Jihoon wrote you a letter when your 15-year old dog passed away, and it was the most beautiful string of words you had read your entire life. Wonwoo couldn’t express himself well, but he slept over for two weeks and held your hand every day during that difficult time of your life.

Which is why the lines were never blurred with Jihoon, but with Wonwoo, it was always grey.

Jeon Wonwoo kissed you under the stars on the night of your graduation day – hands shaking, lips soft, eyes twinkling – and told you he had decided to go to the same college as you and Jihoon.

Wonwoo had just gotten a car from his father on the first day of college, and he made it a point to drive you to and from the state university. He had asked you to be his girlfriend before you got off from his car on the first day of freshmen year.

When you, him, and Jihoon had found part-time jobs to get you through dorm rent and daily needs, it had saved countless of core memories in your head. Those were difficult times, but it never felt that way when you had those two boys by your side.

Eventually, you and Wonwoo moved in together to save some money for rent. You and him fell into daily routines and in love with each other even more. Wonwoo became family, eventually, and you to his, and for a period of time, all was well. Better than well, most of the time.

That is until Wonwoo had to leave right after graduation and you couldn’t because you had so many things going for you in Changwon. There were opportunities for you and him, but in different places, and it would have been unfortunate if either of you turned these chances down.

Wonwoo had asked if you wouldn’t consider moving with him. Seoul is a big city, after all, there were jobs available for you. But as much as Wonwoo was a dreamer, you were, too. You had dreams of your own, and those dreams aren’t in Seoul.

Hence, Wonwoo had left and you had stayed. There were hushed promises the last time you made love in your shared apartment, words of comfort that things would be fine, that you and him will eventually find your way back to each other once you figure things out. No concrete plan, but promises nonetheless.

Promises that were, eventually, thrown into oblivion.

Inevitably, you and him became occupied at work – too much that sometimes both of you forget to call. On the weekends, during Wonwoo’s first few months in Seoul, you would take a train to visit him and spend your days off from work together. For a while, it worked. The routine of not talking at all from Mondays to Fridays and catching up on the weekends with you taking a train to Seoul worked. That is until you noticed Wonwoo never bothered to come see you at home.

To your surprise, his father and younger brother had moved to Seoul when he found a place for them to stay nearby. Bohyuk, his brother, was getting ready for college, and Wonwoo decided it would be best for him to study in the city and have his father move, too.

“Not right now,” Wonwoo had answered as soon as he picked up the call. But you weren’t having it.

“Don’t hang up,” you had warned while knowing well that he was in the middle of work. “Bohyuk dropped by to say goodbye. You never bothered to tell me you’ve decided to have them move to Seoul.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo warned in the same tone. “I’m at work. Let’s talk about this when you come here on the weekend.”

“I am not going there on the weekend, Wonwoo,” you firmly replied. “Why don’t you ever come home?”

Wonwoo had stayed silent on the other line.

“You like Seoul that much, huh?” You taunted. Wonwoo huffed on the other line and you knew him well enough to understand that he’s just as angry as you. “You’ve never bothered to come home. I’ve always travelled miles and miles for you, spending my days off on trains and not being able to sleep well at night because it’s not my bed. Every fucking weekend since you moved to the city.”

“What are you trying to say?” Wonwoo asked.

You sighed, palm on your forehead as you tried to think about where you and him went wrong. “Wonwoo, why do you never come home?”

Wonwoo never held back, didn’t take a second to even think about his answer. “I don’t have a reason to visit Changwon. It’s not home for me.”

That was the last straw for you.

It may be the vodka that’s keeping you from remembering, but you’ve forgotten what you had said after that. All you remember is how you were fuming mad and had taken an empty box to gather all of Wonwoo’s things and to send it to his address in Seoul. It was only then that you had realized Wonwoo had really left. He had taken all of his belongings when he left to Seoul, and you realized he didn’t bother leaving any clothes or any pair of shoes when he took the flight to Incheon to reach Seoul. It was only then that you had realized Wonwoo never inteded to go back. He took all of what’s his and had left you.

And it may be, again, the vodka that’s talking but you understand now why you dislike Seoul so much.

It’s because you never understood why Wonwoo had easily left you for a city so bright and so loud, and you were jealous of that. You were envious of a city and you wonder why Changwon was never enough for him to even visit. Why you were never enough for him to call you home.

Wonwoo, indeed, was a star that fell out of the sky.

The universe never told you that you had to return him back to the sky eventually. It was the most painful thing you had to do, but you did it, anyway.

***

It turns out that saying that you don’t want to reconnect with Wonwoo is better said than done.

Soonyoung is determined to see you and Wonwoo in the same room, same space, same air – that’s why you are here, again, in the same barbecue place that Soonyoung took you weeks ago.

It’s Saturday, and Soonyoung picked you up from your apartment to have some grilled meat, yours and his favorite. And you should have known, truly, with the smug look on his face and overly huge grin on his mouth, that Wonwoo had been waiting for you and Soonyoung at the said place.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung talk animatedly about work and how the week went by so slow with the load of work they had to finish. The two apparently met at work and have been friends since then.

You stay silent for the most part, reason truly being to tired from work. You tell them you had been working ten to eleven hours a day since Monday because of the preparation for the program’s launch. Soonyoung points out that all you’ve been eating for the entire week are noodles and soda.

“That’s not healthy,” Wonwoo comments.

“I know,” you sigh. “But I don’t really have that much time to make something for breakfast. And I would be too tired in the evening to even wait for food delivery so I just settle on what I have.”

The conversation falls into place, awkwardness from the first few minutes gone, thanks to a tipsy Soonyoung clearing the air for everyone. And just like this, you and Wonwoo fell into another routine, as if those years of nothingness between you and him never existed.

***

Jihoon is surprised when he sees you and Wonwoo pick him up from the airport.

You had filled him in, of course, with the situation and how much you hate it, but still, your best friend couldn’t hide how happy (maybe?) he was to see you and Wonwoo together (not really). You decided to let Jihoon stay in your apartment for the entire two weeks that he needed to be here for business. One thing common about you and him, he could never sleep well on a hotel’s bed.

Wonwoo tags along, of course, and it’s the first time he sees where you live. You see him briefly stare at the pictures you had displayed in your small living room (many, many photographs of you and Jihoon, your family, some friends, and your pets who were left at home). He takes a second to study each, and you wonder if he’d been expecting to see his face on the photographs.

“Thanks, Wonwoo, for driving us here,” Jihoon says. “Y/N, I told you it would be more convenient if you get a driver’s license and buy a car. Especially here in Seoul. How are you commuting every damn day?”

You shrug as you start to unpack Jihoon’s carry on. “The company pays for my transportation. Also, driving, me? Can you really picture that?”

Both Wonwoo and Jihoon laugh.

“Some things never change,” Wonwoo mumbles.

You never learned how to drive because Wonwoo always drove you to places when you were younger. You were too uncoordinated to learn it on your own, and now you feel like you’re too old to take driving courses.

Wonwoo helps Jihoon settle in on the spare bedroom you had prepared for him. You can’t help but kiss Jihoon on the cheek when you the dried fish he had packed just for you.

“There is dried fish from the supermarket nearby,” Wonwoo comments as he watches you place the delicacies on the cupboard. “They’re good, too.”

You shake your head, still smiling, “Nothing will ever taste like home.”

Jihoon agrees from his bedroom.

The three of you decide to have dinner across the apartment complex. Soonyoung joins you within half an hour, which is why as soon as you finish your meal, alcohol is served on the table.

“You’re a fucking alcoholic,” you joke. Soonyoung pouts and says it’s the best time to drink because Jihoon is here. This is, as he says, a rare occurrence in the universe.

Eventually, Soonyoung was able to pursuade the three of you to drink, but he was already too tipsy himself to realize that you and Wonwoo had stopped taking shots on your second ones. Jihoon, however, seems to be having fun drinking with Soonyoung.

When the clock hits 12, Soonyoung’s roommate arrives to pick him up. The man introduces himself as Jun.

Jun is handsome, and he shakes his head when you offer him a drink. Soonyoung begins to tease you and tells everyone that he’s never seen you so red before. You tell them it’s the alcohol, but even Jihoon wasn’t buying it. Flirting wasn’t really your forte, and maybe it was those two shots of soju that helped you speak confidently with Jun the entire 20 minutes he sat on your table.

“Sorry,” you say as you and Jun haul Soonyoung to the car.

“It’s fine,” the man answers and settles his friend on the back seat. “I wonder why Soonyoung never introduced you.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you reply. “I’ll see you around. Thanks for picking him up.”

Jun nods, smiling, and takes a device from his back pocket. “Here,” he says softly. “Put your number.”

Your breath is caught when you realize what’s going on, and unconsciously, for a reason unknown to you, you look back at the restaurant where Wonwoo is seated right the wall made in glass.

He is looking right back at you as this is happening.

Jun is quick-witted. He realizes what’s going on and chuckles.

“Oh,” he mutters, about to pull his phone back but you stop him, pulling your eyes away from Wonwoo.

Jun is surprised when you punch your number in and give yourself a missed call.

“Is it okay?” He asks.

“Nothing’s going on between me and Wonwoo,” you answer confidently.

Jun laughs, and you blush. “I’ll just say I believe you, okay? Now, give me a hug so he can throw more daggers at me. He’s been slaughtering me with his eyes since you and I started talking back there.”

You’re taken aback when Jun suddenly pulls you in, your face buried in his fruity scent and you laugh when he makes an effort to make it look real. He bids goodbye and you watch his car leave before returning to Wonwoo and a very sleepy Jihoon.

“Took you a while,” Wonwoo mumbles and helps Jihoon to stand. “Saying goodbye really takes that long?”

You shrug and walk to the other side of Jihoon, helping him walk as well. “He’s nice.”

“Nice enough to give your number immediately?” he mutters, making you chuckle at the new behavior.

“Yes, of course,” you answer sarcastically. “Soonyoung has mentioned him before. I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”

The three of you walk (Jihoon, very drunkenly) across the street. Wonwoo punches the button to your apartment’s floor and you’re impressed at how easily he remembered it despite being here the first time.

Wonwoo complains about how buff Jihoon had gotten and how heavy he is when he comes back to the living room after closing the door behind your best friend’s room. He catches you making tea, and you don’t even remember grabbing to mugs from the cupboard.

“Tea?” You offer. Wonwoo hums and takes one mug from the counter. He comfortably takes a seat on the couch, taking a look around while waiting for the tea to cool a little. You don’t hesitate to take a seat beside him.

“Nice place,” he comments.

“Isn’t that compliment a little too late?” you joke, blowing air to your tea and deciding to set it down the table beside Wonwoo’s because it’s still too hot.

“We were busy unpacking Jihoon’s things,” he answers. “I didn’t get a good look.”

“Thanks,” you say anyway. “Nothing like home but, you know, it’s nice.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You like comparing everything to what it is at home. If you keep doing that, you’re never going to truly like Seoul. Changwon and Seoul are two different places.”

“I have no plans of liking Seoul,” you answer. “I’m here for work. Once I’m done, I’m going back home.”

Wonwoo nods. He looks at you and finally, you look back at him. Wonwoo had his hair down today, unlike all the other days you’ve seen him. He’s wearing his glasses and it reminds you a lot of what he used to look like when you were in college. He’s wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. And you would be lying if you say you’re not attracted to him right now.

He has always been handsome, and though you like when he wears suit and tie, nothing will ever compare to how attractive he looks right now, to how much he looks like the Wonwoo you had known right now.

Wonwoo licks his lips when your eyes meet his, and the sparks light up like a switch, then seconds later he’s kissing you.

Wonwoo’s lips are as soft as you could remember despite how roughly he’s holding you as he kisses the air out of your lungs. His hands are on your jaw, keeping your face still and he dives in, his tongue licking your lips and asking you to open up. You cave in so, so, so easily when his hands travel to your arms and to your legs and when he pulls you so that you’re sitting on top of him.

Wonwoo licks and bites and sucks your lips and your tongue, and the heat between your legs makes you moan. The sound you make invites Wonwoo to touch the skin in your hips, your shirt lifted a little, and suddenly he’s pulling the material over your head.

He is hard when you move closer and sit right on top of his crotch, and he makes the same sinful sound when you grind yourself on his boner. The strap of your bra begins to fall from your arms and this encourages Wonwoo’s lips to leave yours and mark up your shoulders and chest. You throw your head back when Wonwoo pulls one of cups of your bra down and starts kissing your breasts. He nips and sucks where you want it the most and uses his other hand to massage the other.

“Wonwoo,” you moan. “Room.”

Wonwoo doesn’t need a second. He uses his strength to stand and carry you while your legs are wrapped around his waist, teas forgotten and cold. He locks your room, gently places you on bed and pulls his shirt off his body before climbing on top of you again.

“Can I take these off?” He asks. You don’t know which piece of clothing he’s asking but you nod anyway.

Wonwoo unclasps the last piece of clothing that’s covering your chest and continuest to dive in, mouth finding your nipple, sucking, nipping, biting, kissing. And it’s hot and your heart somersaults with how familiar this feels. With how much Wonwoo remembers when it comes to your body. You feel your wetness pool even more between your legs when you realize Wonwoo has been kissing you on the right places, sucking when you need it the most, biting where you want it the most 

“Wonwoo,” you moan when he finishes sucking both your breasts and moves down to kiss your stomach. “Please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?” He asks. You involuntarily moan at the nickname and how low and attractive his voice sounds, and how much you remember that he likes words being used when fucking. “Tell me what you want.”

“I need you,” you answer. Wonwoo chuckles, kissing your stomach.

“You need me now?” he taunts. “You seem to like Jun.”

You shake your head, reaching so you could pull him back to your lips. You kiss Wonwoo, palms touching his neck and shoulders. (Wonwoo had started working out, you realize.)

“I’ve only ever liked you,” you say in between kissing him. “Please. I need you.”

“Don’t be in love with someone else,” Wonwoo whispers and you nod. He kisses you one more time before going back down in between your legs.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he commands. “What do you want me to do?”

“Your hands and mouth,” you answer. Wonwoo shakes his head. You sigh, closing your eyes and know exactly what he wants to hear. “Please eat me out, Wonwoo. Please use your tongue and your fingers.”

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate. “Can I take these off?” You nod. He pulls your pants alongside your panties down.

You bite your lip when Wonwoo breathes out as soon as he sees you on full display. Unconsciously, you start to cover your breasts and close your thighs, but Wonwoo stops you and tells you he wants to see you first. Wonwoo takes his time looking at you, admiring your skin and the wetness between your legs.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he whispers and dives in.

Wonwoo knows how to use his tongue well. There were a lot of things you’ve already forgotten about your dynamics, but if you could recall one thing perfectly, it’s how amazing he treated you in bed. He takes his time making small, soft licks on your folds, tongue glazing on your clit, making you squirm and moan. Wonwoo holds you down when you start to move and close your legs on his head.

“I’ve missed this,” Wonwoo mutters as he sucks and kisses your cunt. You’re a moaning mess and even worse when you see him looking right at you as he licks your wetness. “I’ve missed you,” he says, eyes locked to yours, tongue slowly licking up, showing you exactly how wet you are for him through his tongue. He climbs back and kisses you, letting you taste yourself.

Wonwoo takes this moment to slide to fingers in while you’re making out. His mouth swallows your moans when he fingers you fast, your cut making a scandalos schluck, schluck, schluck sound as his fingers pound you hard and fast. You’re about to cum when Wonwoo stops.

“Do you have a condom?” He asks and that’s when it hits you.

“Fuck, I don’t,” you answer. Wonwoo nods and says it’s okay. He lays on his side beside and starts to slide his fingers again.

“I’ll make you cum like this,” he assures but you shake your head.

“I’m clean,” you say suddenly. Wonwoo takes the message. “I’ve never had sex with anybody after you.”

“Me neither,” he answers and you’re already gone.

“Pull out,” you remind him. “I’m not ovulating so we should be good.”

Wonwoo agrees and removes his pants. His erection springs and it’s huge and red and you sit up to touch him but Wonwoo stops you.

“I might cum as soon as you touch me,” he says. “Next time.”

Next time. Next time. Next time.

You nod and lie back down on your pillows, legs open for Wonwoo, all wet and ready for him. Wonwoo settles between you, one hand on the bed steadying himself and the other holding his hardness. He massages his tip nice and slow with your clit and it takes everything in you not to take matters into your hands and ride the fuck out of him. You let Wonwoo take his time when he slides into you slowly.

He’s as big as you remember, but he prepared you well (and wet) enough for your cunt to swallow his cock gracefully. Wonwoo is a mess when you look at him. His face is read and contorted into a look of pleasure when he feels how warm you are inside.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re still just as warm.”

He begins to slide in and out, a steady pace, and kisses you all over your face, asking if you feel good. You nod and let out a moan when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

“You feel exactly the same since the last time.” Since you left. “And I love you,” Wonwoo says. “I love you.”

He says it over and over again. He says it when he pulls out for a second, bringing your legs up on his shoulders and fucking you deeply on your bed. He says it when he spreads your legs again, diving back to your lips, and tells you he’s about to cum. He says it over and over again when he makes you cum first, fingers making circles on your clit as he swallows the noises you make when you reach your orgasm. And he says it when he continues fucking you until he has to pull out and cum on your stomach.

You say it back when Wonwoo carries you to the toilet because he knows you need to pee after sex. You say it again when he cleans you up with the shower head and a towel. You say it again when he carries you back to bed and pulls the covers over your body, kissing you on the lips and on the forehead. You say it again when he’s asleep and you’re staring at the digital clock on your bedside table, Wonwoo hugging you from behind, his naked chest keeping you warm.

Just when you’re about to drift off to sleep, you look at the time again. 1:56 am, it says, and you wonder if it’s going to hurt if it doesn’t work out with Wonwoo for the second time.

The last thing in your mind before completing passing out is the answer: yes. It’s going to hurt.

**

A routine is made after that night.

Wonwoo had woken up long before you, but he stayed on the same position as you slept. The only difference was that he had his phone in his hands as you slept soundly. He had kissed you as soon as he realized you were awake like it’s the most normal thing to do. He had dressed up and said he’ll pick you and Jihoon up for dinner and that he had to leave because he had to do his laundry before Monday arrives.

Indeed, Wonwoo had picked you up that same evening. When he held your hand and kissed you in the car, Jihoon didn’t say anything. After that dinner, Wonwoo stayed the night again (and this time, you and him had to be more quiet because Jihoon was awake and sober in the other room).

The routine goes like this: Wonwoo picks you up from work every day because he clocks out at the same time and eats dinner with you or with you and Jihoon if the latter is not busy. Sometimes he would take you out for dinner, other times he asks you to cook for him at your apartment. He does home and only stays the night if it’s the weekend. Some weekends, he would take you to his father and brother’s apartment nearby the university. Bohyuk looked confused, most likely why you’re suddenly in the picture again when he knows all too well that it didn’t end up nicely between you and his brother,  but he never said anything.

It’s easy to fall into a routine with Wonwoo, and the lines were never blurred. He never shied away from admitting how he felt and conveniently, you had always felt the same.

He apologized for leaving you behind (though, him leaving Changwon wouldn’t have been so bad, you could have compromised) and for never making an effort all because he was too excited to venture out his new life in Seoul. He spends hours talking about his experience and how much he missed you every step of the way. And just like that, you and Wonwoo are back together.

All is well, at least for the time being.

**

The program launch was a success six months in. You had underestimated yourself in the beginning, yet here you are after months of working hard, recognized and praised by your bosses with how efficient you had worked for the last six months.

They jokingly tell you that you’re free to go back home now, but Seoul will always be ready for you whenever you wanted to come back.

And in the last six months, you have learned love the place despite its noise and how busy it is all the time. You have understood why people sought after Seoul’s vibrance and why people find inspiration when they visit the city. You have seen different personalities and realized that maybe it’s not the city that’s giving the place colors, maybe it’s the people and their diversities and quirks. Seoul, finally, is a place you like and would often visit if given the chance.

But home is still home.

People think that all small town girls want to venture out the big city and learn life from there, but it’s different for you. You like Changwon, and as much as you love Seoul now, nothing compares to home.

And so you decide to go back home.

And Wonwoo wasn’t taking it well.

“But I thought you love Seoul,” he argues when you drop the bomb on him.

“I do,” you answer. “And I love you. But it’s not home, Wonwoo.”

He licks his lips, frustrated and leans back from the dining chair. “Y/N, stay. You’ll do well here.”

“I’ll do better in Changwon, Won,” you reply. “Besides, it’s not like we’re breaking up again. We know better now.”

“You don’t know that,” he mumbles and drinks from the glass.

You sigh, losing the appetite. “Won. I supported you when you wanted to move to Seoul. Can’t you do the same for me?”

“Am I not enough?” He mumbles. You understand but you ask him to repeat. “Am I not enough?”

You laugh sardonically. “I was asking the same thing when you left me for Seoul.”

Wonwoo sighs. “That was different, Y/N. We were just starting our careers back then. It’s an opportunity I couldn’y miss. It’s different this time. You have the choice to stay.”

“And you had the choice to visit me once or twice and to make it work,” you retort. Wonwoo is taken aback by your sudden attitude. “But you didn’t. In your head, it was all Seoul. You told me you didn’t have a reason to come home.”

“I only said that because I was pissed,” he answers. “You’re the one who broke up with me.”

“And you didn’t bother calling back,” you respond. It’s true. He never called back, never tried to apologize, never took a train home to ask you to take him back – which you would have. In a heartbeat. Without a doubt.

“Was I not enough?” You ask the question back to him. “Was I not enough for you to compromise, Wonwoo? Now, am I not enough for you to finally learn how to compromise and make this work?”

Wonwoo stays silent. You can’t read his mind, so you pick up the dishes and wash up. He avoids you at all costs. By the time the clock hits 9 pm, Wonwoo bids you goodbye – but not before kissing you on the forehead.

When the door is shut, you start to cry and pack your things.

***

Your flight is three days from now, but Soonyoung is already acting like it’s your last day. He reckons it would be nice to have dinner at the same barbecue place for the last time because you would be too busy for he next two days.

The dinner is nice, as always, and Wonwoo is silent the whole time. Soonyoung teases him and tells his friend not to be too sad that you’re going back, unaware of the fight you and the latter had two days ago.

When dinner is done, Wonwoo drives you home and announces that he’s staying the night. You let him and kiss him on the lips before taking a shower.

Wonwoo hugs you while you scroll through your phone on the bed.

It’s been two days and all he’s done is to mope around. He has followed you everywhere but hasn’t said anything about you moving. He takes care of you, kisses you, and even makes love to you but he doesn’t talk about the elephant in the room. You are just as bad; you don’t say anything either.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly when you’re laughing at a video from Instagram, you almost miss it.

“What was that?” you ask, pausing the video and looking up at him. Your head is resting on his arm, his hand playing with one of yours.

“I’m sorry,” he says it again, clearly this time. “I thought about us a lot, even talked to Jihoon and asked for his insights. And I realized how insensitive I have been towards you and this relationship. Jihoon told me about how much pain you went through three years ago—“

“Wonwoo, you’ve already been forgiven,” you interrupt.

“No, please let me apologize properly,” he says. “Three years ago, Changwon wasn’t the place for me. I was happy with you but I knew it in my heart that I couldn’t stay in Changwon. The first week in Seoul was the best week of my life. I had learned how to deal with different personalities here, and found myself learning about my own potentials that I couldn’t see when I was in Changwon. I was happy in Seoul, and it had always felt incomplete because you weren’t around. And I knew you never wanted to move.

“I had asked father and Bohyuk to move here because I knew they’d be better off here, too. And I knew deep down, you weren’t too keen of the idea of moving here with me someday, and that made me mad. That made me think as though you didn’t love me enough to even visit me every weekend, not realizing that you did. You do. You loved me so much that you let me go even when you were lonely and missing me most days. You supported me, and took your days off with me so that we could make it work.

“I was the one who didn’t love you enough to see through what we could have done and compromised to be together until the end. And with you being here in Seoul for the last six months,  I have learned that I can never be truly happy if you’re not with me. So, I’m sorry, Y/N, that I had been too selfish years ago and even now. I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize once again a mistake I could have done for the second time. I’m sorry that you had to double your efforts back then and that I had made you feel like you weren’t enough – and the truth is that you are. More than enough if you ask me. And I am willing to meet you halfway to make it work this time.”

By the time Wonwoo is done, you’re already crying and hugging him. You don’t realize this until Wonwoo laughs and comments about how you made a paper towel out of his shirt. You apologize and stand to grab another shirt for him. He thanks you and helps you wipe your tears as you and him sit across each other on your bed.

“So how do we do this?” he asks. “We can take turns going back and forth from Changwon and here.”

“They’re promoting me as senior manager for both sites: Changwon and Seoul,” you announce. Wonwoo gasps and hugs you. “You can come visit me if you miss me too much, but I’d like to talk about moving some of my things to your apartment if you don’t mind.. I’m giving this place up.”

Wonwoo kisses you again and again, saying he’s proud of you and tells you that he’s going to start moving your things tomorrow. You tell him that you will still take the flight to Changwon in three days to check on your team, but you’ll most likely be back in a month.

You and Wonwoo spend hours talking about your plans, and somehow it reminds you of three years ago when Wonwoo had to leave. But this time, instead of hushed promises, you and him had plans: a timetable and a commitment to make it work this time.

Wonwoo randomly brings up the question of marriage and what would happen by the time you and him decide to tie the knot. You kiss him goodnight and tell him that you’ll cross the bridge when you get there. He asks if you would marry him if he asks you.

You say yes before you and him drift to sleep.

**

The flight back to Changwon took an hour at least. Your luggage weighs lighter compared to how heavy it was when you left six months ago.

There is a light, hopeful feeling in your chest as you push your luggage in the middle of the busy arrival area. Your phone dings, but you decide you’d check it later when you reach home.

Changwon is much, much warmer than Seoul, and you kind of forgotten because you wore a jacket before departing the city. Its salty air hits you as soon as you step out of the airport and suddenly, you’re reminded why you loved home so much.

The taxi stops right in front of you. The old man helps you with your luggage albeit light. You thank him and he asks you the address. His accent tells you you’re home.

Your phone dings again, and you pull out your phone this time.

The messages are from Wonwoo. The first one is a picture of him pouting with a caption “missing you already x”.

The second one is a message that makes your heart swell.

He came to your door unannounced, knocking loudly on your front door and causing you to jump in your seat. Three sharp knocks against the door using his middle knuckles and then a few friendly taps because he realizes he's standing in front of your door and not his resident’s door. The sound echoes loudly inside your lonely apartment but isn’t loud enough to alarm your neighbors because he purposely leans his side against the door to diffuse the sound and vibrations. You can’t blame him for his habit - he’s used to knocking on so many doors in one night that the freezer part of his mini fridge is stocked with frozen sponges in plastic baggies so he can ice his swollen knuckles at night. You don’t even have to look through your peeping hole to know it’s him, but it’s weird because you know he should be on-call today. Still, the knocks are enough to scare you into thinking you’re still dorming in the universities.

He tells you he has an employee banquet a few days before the break and was worried that his makeup might smudge on his suit. He also brought your go-to drink order from the tea shop across campus, punching in your specific add-ons and adjustments into the kiosk before even deciding what new seasonal drink he wanted to try. You had no choice but to begrudgingly take your drink from him while you shuffled to the side of your door so he could come into your apartment.

"I thought you already knew how to do this.”

You see him hold up your hand mirror to his neck to look at the small bruise you left on the side of his neck a few nights ago. He sits cross-legged on your apartment living room carpeted floor while you sit on the ottoman next to him.

“Only for an everyday base routine for my face,” he frowns while softly poking his bruise. “But my neck makeup keeps smudging and I don’t know how to stop it from getting on my clothes,” he admits while he lowers the neckline of his t-shirt, thinking about the stains he left on his shirt collars.

You uncap the bottle you’re holding and spray the cool setting spray on his bruise. He fans the wet product with his hand while you dig through his toiletry bag for his color-correcting palette. You dip his tiny makeup brush into the palette and bring the product-coated brush to paint over his bruise.

“If you want me to stop marking you, you can just tell me,” you suggest to him while brushing another thin layer. You tap your pointer finger lightly around the harsh edges, blending the colors into his skin. An intrusive thought tells you to poke your finger deep into his skin, but you decide not to.

He ooo’s at how you’re blending the product, angling the mirror so he can better see how you’re working.  

“But I like them,” he says while you spritz another light layer of setting spray. “They remind me of you,” he softly confesses while you blow on his skin. He finds himself angling the mirror again so that the mirror now focuses on your face.

He giggles at the tingling sensation of your warm breath against the cold product, and he smiles to himself when he sees your concentrated expression through the reflection in the mirror – how you purse your lips and how your eyebrows furrow together. If he weren’t an RA, he would proudly wear his love bites as a badge for everybody around him to see. He wants people to tease him whenever they see the bruise poking out of his hoodie when his hood is down. It’s not to let people know he’s getting it on. That’s just not who he is.

But there is that part of him that wants others to know you’re his. He’s tired of soft launching you on his Instagram. That’s what people do when they want others to know they’re talking to somebody. But you’re just his friend. He’s completely fine with showing you off, but he respects your privacy, knowing how much you hate having your picture taken. It’s also not like his closest friends don’t know about his relationship with you, but if it makes you happy, he’ll take it. He likes what the two of you have. And after all, he doesn't care about the pictures. It’s the person whose plate is almost always pictured across from his, the hand holding the ice cream cone, the second shadow under the street light who he cares for.

The bruises feel sore, but he loves how you automatically coddle him afterward, especially after a heated session. You always have that worried look on your face, your lips pouty and frowny. He remembers the number of ridges between your brows when you ask him how he’s feeling. He always tells you that he feels fine, great even, but you always sigh with a defeated look on your face. You’ll walk to the fridge in nothing but one of his old t-shirts and grab him a cold metal spoon. He doesn’t know if the cold spoon hack works, but he lets you do it anyway. He’ll let you do anything if it means he gets to spend more time with you no matter how prickly you may seem on the outside.

Now, he’s spending more time with you on a lazy Tuesday night. He’s done for the day and doesn’t have any RA duties at night because the university recently handed on-call duties for the campus security to handle. On the other hand, you didn’t have anything scheduled for today and spent the entire day indoors. You’re still in your pajamas – a free shirt from a past school event and old running shorts that you never wore while exercising. There are leftover food delivery containers in your fridge from dinner. You tell him the importance of investing in a tinted sunscreen while pushing up your wired glasses. It’s ironic because he knows you haven’t washed your face today or applied any form of sun protection at all. The closer you lean into him to be sure he understands, the redder his cheeks flush. He hopes his mineral powder is enough to diffuse the blush or at least make it seem like it’s the redness from his acne.

Feeling a little hot, he reaches over to grab his fruit slushie-turned-juice from the coffee table and brings it to his lips. He sucks the concoction through the metal straw, letting the cool liquid settle in his mouth so he can savor it before swallowing. You notice the condensation dripping down his arms before he does, and you wipe it away with the edge of your t-shirt without any thought. Your drink is already long gone, finished within minutes after poking your straw through the flimsy plastic lid, washed and disposed of in your recycling bin. He wonders if the taste of his drink would linger on your tongue if he kisses you. And he wonders how the tangy sourness of his drink would contrast or balance the extra amount of sweetness in your tea.

But you’re done concealing the bruise, already sealed it off with the last layer of setting spray. Satisfied with your job, you plop yourself on the other side of the couch and grab the book you put face-down on the table when DK arrived at your front door. You tuck your legs under you and use the armrest as your elbow support as you resume your novel. DK types the makeup steps into his notes app and quickly cleans up his products, looking for something to do.

DK snakes his head between the open gap between your stomach and your book, putting his head on your chest. You pay him no mind, flipping another page while he thinks of a conversation starter. He relaxes into the feeling of your chest rising and dropping and the steady thumping of your heartbeat pulsing under his ear. He asks you what your novel is about while twiddling with the hem of your shirt, noticing it’s still a bit damp from before.

“Smut,” you nonchalantly answer him. You didn’t know much about the novel, but you borrowed it from your friend who kept raving about it while you visited her the other day. She claimed it was better than sex, but honestly, all you’ve been reading so far are overly detailed descriptions of scenery while the main character stares out of the parked car window.

“But you have me,” he teases you. He lets go of your shirt to poke you on your cheek between each word, “You. Have. Me.”

You swat his hand away from your face and subsequently decide to place your novel on his head to use as a stand. He huffs underneath the book, and you snicker at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. You think it’s cute whenever he’s being annoying, throwing tiny tantrums whenever he doesn’t have enough attention. You catch yourself lingering on the thought of what his neediness would be like if the two of you were together.

“I’m too lazy,” you flip another page after letting the thought dissipate. “You’re on your own unless you can find another way to do it.”

He huffs and lifts the novel from his forehead to sit up. He turns to you and untucks your legs from beneath you.

“Continue reading your book. Let me eat you out while you rest,” he tells you while pulling your legs with ease so only your upper back and head is leaning against the couch’s armrest. He rests your legs on each side of him.

“Go ahead, but wouldn’t that be a little boring for you?” you ask him while your eyes are still trained on your novel. Even though you spend a lot of time thinking about him manhandling you, his persona easily makes you forget about just how strong he is.

He grabs a cushion from the middle of the couch and tucks it behind your neck. He asks you if you’re comfortable. You give him a thumbs-up, and he gently pecks your thumb before moving your hand back to your book so you can properly hold your book. His little touches and kisses aren’t new to you, but you think it’d be a shame if his kiss transferred onto your pages instead of keeping it to yourself. You choose to hover your thumb above the pages, choosing to use your hand’s round fleshy thenar to hold the pages.

You lift your hips upwards so he can easily remove your bottoms. He tugs them off you as if he has all the time in the world, folding your shorts and undies and setting them on the coffee table like they’re part of the decoration.

“I don’t think I’d be bored,” he kneels himself in front of you and lowers himself so he’s flat against the couch. He gently lifts your shirt higher so it’s past your belly button and proceeds to hook your legs over his shoulders. “Read to me? Out loud?” he asks you while massaging the outside of your thighs.

You lift your book, looking at him quizzically. However, when you see the tiny fading red mark on his forehead from when you used him as a stand, you can’t help but agree to his request. He lowers his head to your core and quickly taps your thighs twice to tell you to read.

“Now, a black flashy standard motorcycle with matching black chrome wheels pulls into the driveway of the auto shop where your car is currently getting its engine replaced. The steady hum of the engine is enough to have every single mechanic in the vicinity turn their –,” you were doing pretty well at reading until DK, without warning, puts his warm tongue flat against your clit, licking upwards until it reaches your nub. “Ah – h-heads to stare at the bike,” you stumble with the last phrase.

He lets his spit drop at the top of your clit, watching it glide downwards along your ridges before catching it with his tongue like a little game of Plinko. He feels you tense under his tongue, causing him to hum in delight. He mumbles something about you doing good before attaching his tongue to you again.

“One of them whistles when the motorcyclist comes to a full stop in front of the open auto shop garages,” you try to ignore the fact that he’s gently blowing wind to tease you, to hear you stumble across your words. There is no way you are going to cave right when you started reading out loud, so you bite your lip when you feel his soft and open lips close around your labia. But you can’t ignore him no matter how hard you try.

He kisses you deeply, full-mouthed while his large hands lock around your thighs. Painstakingly slowly, he buries his face deeper into your cunt.

“Eungh- O-one of them whistles when the mo- oh,” you moan while your mouth hangs open when he circles the tip of his tongue around your clitoris. You move your novel away to look at DK whose entire face is gone. You can only see his bushy black hair.

He continues to circle his tongue around you while your breathing gets shallower. You feel your arousal building, causing your thighs to close around his head. He looks up at you looking back at him with a lustful expression. He sucks softly on your clitoral hood and pries your thighs open with his hands. He only winks, letting go of your skin through his lips before going back to eating your cunt.

“…motorcyclist can loudly rev his engine,” you manage to finish the paragraph with a little sigh of relief.

“Mmmh. Good job, baby,” he groans, praising you against your cunt.

He kisses the inside of your right thigh while moving your left leg off his right shoulder.

You find yourself frowning just a little bit when you think he’s finished, but truthfully, he’s only moving your leg off the couch so he can finger you while eating you out. He puts his right hand on your stomach and uses his thumb to rub your nub.

“I’ll reward you if you keep reading okay?”

He kisses your stomach and moves your shirt down so you wouldn’t shiver from being cold. If only he knew why you were shivering.

“‘Couldn’t you have driven here?’ you frown at your older brother w- ah- fuck. Fuck,” you jerk in your seat when DK inserts a finger in your cunt. You can feel him smile against you as he drags his tongue against your folds while his finger dips in and out of you knowing exactly how to drag a string of moans from your mouth, to make your legs tremble and shake.

All this, and you’re only half a page into reading out loud.

“…while he reaches between his legs to pass you his extra motorcycle helmet as you approach him,” you read while trying to ignore the fact that you’re gripping your borrowed novel with so much force that you probably bent the matte paperback cover. “He shrugs and passes you the helmet which you – mmm fuck just like that – begrudgingly fit over your head.”

You’re clenched tightly around his two fingers as he curls them in you while sloppily giving you head. You hear exactly how wet you are, how his fingers squelch every time he reinserts them in you, how his coated lips smack against your glistening pussy – devouring you as his life depended on it. You can feel your juices pool around your ass as he uses his left arm to hold you down whenever you lurch upwards. He moans profanities against you, but never at you. When he raises his head to take a break, he makes sure his fingers never stop moving. He always brings you to your high, and you feel so safe with him.

And he tells you you’re sweet. He always does.

Sometimes you’re sweet because he compliments you for doing something for him. He calls you sweet when you’re frowning about somebody criticizing your RBF. You like it when he calls you sweet when he calls you Sweetie. You like it when he says it with flair. You like it when he says it when you show him your project. You like it whenever he says it when you make him take a sip of any of your sugary drinks – the way his face contorts in total disgust, but he still manages to do so with a smile on his face.

He never called you my sweet, but god damn do you wish you could experience what it would feel like for him to call you his. But tonight he describes your flavor as sweet as you like your teas. He can’t stop praising you for how sweet you are, how you’re like dessert on his tongue. And you can’t get him out of your head.

“He leans forward and clicks open the motorcycle’s rear footrests with the back of his boot,” your face scrunches, but you continue. “When he is done, he looks back at you struggling – eungh Kyeom,” you struggle.

He only grips your thigh tighter as he alternates between fingering you and pausing so he can kiss your cunt like he’s kissing you during sex. He flattens his tongue against you and twists it so he can tease your hole. You’re whining and speeding through the last few words of the sentence, desperate to have him in you.

“Whoa. Whoa,” he temporarily detaches himself from you to grab onto your forearm as he raises himself above you. His lips glisten from the wetness, and the color of his flushed face compliment the color of his sore lips. “Slow down baby,” he tells you and kisses your cheek, “Wanna hear your pretty voice, okay? Just read and relax.” He strokes your hair and brushes away the strands covering your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you don’t relax. How can you relax when he grips your hips, fingers dipping into your pelvic bone as he shoves his nose against your clitoris, sticking his tongue into your cunt? He bobs his head while he tongue-fucks you, nudging your nub and making your pussy throb even when he briefly comes up for air.

Your vision blurs as he continues to build your high, ignoring you as you continue to call out his name. The words on the page are replaced by stars when you tell him you can’t take it anymore. Heart racing and muscles tightening, you cum while his tongue is in you. And he laps you up as you convulse around him, back arching as you continue to come. He drinks what’s left of you like he’s drinking ice cold water at midnight – you’re insatiable. You moan his name into your book once more, hiccupping as he brings your left leg back on the couch.

“Yn,” he whispers as he removes your book from your face. He puts it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact with you. “What did you call me?”

You don’t hear him as you’re still struggling to catch your breath. Your pussy is still pulsing without pause. Everything is hazy, but you can see him reaching over for something in his cosmetics bag. You close your eyes, still undeniably horny and wanting more.

There is a little bit of shuffling and then the sound of a few light things dropping on the floor. He reaches under you and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You briefly remember him telling you about hitting a new PR where he could lift someone a little over his weight. But he brings you to your bed, only switching on your nightstand lamp.

He sits on the side of your bed while he strokes your cheek.

“Yn,” he whispers again while leaning closer to you. “Do you remember what you called me?”

You blink twice at him before slowly realizing. Your lips part in realization, and he only smiles at you.

He opens your nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom and your bottle of lube. Your fingers automatically fly to cover your lips in horror, but he only chuckles at your expression while he positions himself between your legs and leans over you. He coats his wrapped dick in the lube and rubs the remaining gel around your vulva. You whimper at the coldness, and he wipes the remaining bits on his thighs.

He leans over you again and rests his elbows on the sides of your face. He asks you again, gently, if you remember what name you called him.

You nod your head, breath hitching as you stare at him. It’s unfair, you think, to look as pretty as he is under the ugly yellow light your lamp emits. But he looks at you with so much care in the world, and you feel thankful that you’re spending your Tuesday night with him. You thank his lame excuse for intruding on your time for yourself. You thank him for spending time with you, for looking after you, even if he isn’t yours at that moment.

He aligns himself at your entrance while waiting for your answer.

You whisper it almost inaudibly, barely believing yourself as you let the word leave your mouth.

“Say it again,” he instructs you.

“Seokmin.”

You’re not sure if the two of you should have come up with one of those contracts you always read about in books when you first started the relationship. Maybe you should’ve learned from Lara Jean – a binding relationship contract written on notebook paper and signed in pen. There would be a couple of items on the list, a few weird ones, and then a majority of the items being standard ones. Standard item number one? No kissing. Standard item number two? No staying over after sex (sub-line: No cuddling). Standard item number three? No meeting unless it’s for sex. Maybe a weird item would be the option to try pegging. However, the last item on the list? No developing feelings for the other party.

If rules are made to be broken, but contracts signed by people older than eighteen are legally binding, then you would’ve been in jail by now.

His lips are locked against yours, groaning your name as he wraps your legs around his waist. He nibbles along your jaw as he makes love to you, slowly pushing deep inside you so you can feel his balls lay flush against your ass, feeling all of him in you. You call his name through a choked sob, your hands roaming around to find something to grab. Anything.

Your fingers find the back of his head, and you pull on his hair. And he flips like a switch, immediately pounding into you over and over again, praising you and calling you his.

Tonight, the rules have definitely been broken. And you’re starting to realize this isn’t the first offense.

.

“Okay so, I didn’t want to take it off because I wanted to see if my makeup would smudge, but I did it because I knew I was going to get hot.”

“Omg he wanted to keep his shirt on. He’s so quirky!”

“Stoppp,” he laughs while he passes the showerhead to you. “I can’t believe you’re the only person who tried to tell me a joke during sex.”

“It’s because I’m the only person you’ve ever had sex with,” you stick your tongue out at him while you rinse the body wash you previously bought with DK off your body.

“You too,” he retorts while turning around so you can rinse the soap off his body for him.

He grabs your shampoo from your hanging wire basket and plops a dollop into his hand. He tells you to look up while he lathers it in his hand before he brings his hands to massage your scalp. His fingers feel amazing while he massages you, so you close your eyes in the process, hoping to keep the shampoo out of your eyes.

He thinks you look like one of those dogs from the pictures you find online where the owner sticks a metal head massager on their heads. Your eyes are closed in contentment, and there’s a lazy smile on his face that he only gets to see so often. He can’t help himself but sneak a little kiss on your lips while he piles your hair into a mountain so that you look like that one guy from the first Incredibles movie.

You open your eyes to look at him, but you see that he’s purposely looking away, pretending to be interested in something else. You try to follow his eyes, but your eyes land on something dark crawling down the wall above DK’s head.

Being you, you blatantly point out the descending spider, and DK screams, slips, and crashes onto the tiled floor. Your bath products tumble down after him. You sigh, knowing you’ll have to clean up the mess and drive him to school tomorrow instead of sending him off tonight.

.

“Aww you care for me,” Dokyeom coos while you fuss over the ice pack on his ankle.

“I’m just making sure my Sybian isn’t too damaged,” you scoff at him.

You thought you would spend the night with a cozy book in bed while you wait for your face mask to dry. However, you find yourself blow-drying DK’s hair, letting him borrow one of your old t-shirts, and nursing his badly bruised ankle. It’s a wonder how he somehow didn’t end up spraining it after that nasty fall. You could’ve sworn you heard the cartoon swishing sounds while he tried not to slip.

Not to mention, he somehow talked you into cuddling with him in bed through several lame excuses.

Q. What if I fell off the bed?

A. Fuck, then pick yourself up I guess.

Q. What if I sprained my dick?

A. We have toys.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Although, you have to admit it feels very nice to sit in bed with him with his left arm around your waist while the two of you silently scroll through your phones. He leans his head on your shoulder and hugs you from the side. You tilt your phone towards him so he could watch you tap through your friends’ stories. You can tell he’s more needy than usual, probably from climaxing more than once in one night and then undergoing the shower incident following right after – he screamed while you crumpled the spider in a wad of tissue. He’s latching onto you like a parasite, but he does give you good dick so you think it’s more like a symbiotic relationship. The way he’s clinging to you makes you think it is what it feels like to be trapped under one of those large teddy bears you can buy at warehouse retail stores. 

He asks you if you’re going to the party on the weekend after you tap through the story of a mutual friend. You tell him you are.

“Be my date to the party?” he asks you.

You think he forgot you always go to parties with Jun and Chan.

“No thank you,” you politely decline his request, “I don’t do party dates.”

He pushes himself off of you, “Why not?”

“Because all of my past dates always left me for their friends and I would just spend every single party alone,” you grumble thinking about how many times you ended up taking care of drunk people you didn’t know because you ended up being sober the whole time.

“But I wouldn’t leave you.”

“There!” you exclaim while pointing your finger at him, “That’s what they all said to me.”

He frowns and crosses his arms, kind of upset you would think he would ever leave your side.

“Date or not I’m still not going to leave your side,” he grumbles while slinking down so he lays on the bed. He turns his body away from you to sulk.

The ice pack falls off his leg and tumbles to the ground. He continues to lay on the bed, not doing anything to pick it up so he can ice himself.

You know how stubborn he can be, especially when his pride is mixed in the equation. Part of you is proud he is sticking through being moody by refusing to move. However, you know how soft he is. If his future kid got a paper cut, he would probably end up crying harder than his kid. His kid would probably end up consoling him. His ankle must feel like pins and needles are sticking into it without the icepack, and he can’t do anything to distract the pain because his phone is out of his reach.

“Kyeom,” you gently shake his body. “You have to ice your ankle.”

He only shakes you off and brings his legs to his chest.

Usually, you would smack him with a pillow and call him dumb, but you think he’s suffered enough damages for the day. You know if you continue asking him to ice his ankle, he would just ignore you. So, you think either climbing on top of him or tricking him into breaking would be better choices. You choose the latter.

“Sigh,” you say out loud, pretending to talk to yourself. “If DK is sleeping then that means I’ll have nobody to cuddle with while I talk about my slutty costume choices.”

You see him slowly turn his head to look at you in the corner of your eye, but he quickly averts your gaze and turns his head back to its original position. You find yourself smiling at his action. He’s like a literal child. A puppy.

“Aww I thought Kyeom wanted to cuddle all night, but I guess I have to go to sleep because he’s asleep,” you tell him while leaning over him to check on him.

You see he’s pretending to sleep. He squints his eyes shut. His lips are poutier than usual, pressed in a thin line to probably stop himself from speaking.

“Maybe I’ll go sleep on the living room couch by myself so he can be more comfortable by himself,” you slowly move off the bed by trying to cross over his body.  

“Noo,” he wails while sitting up to grab you. He immediately yanks you back down, trapping you in his arms. “How slutty is it, Yn? HOW SLUTTY?”

.

You have your morning lab in a few hours, but you’re standing alone in your dark kitchen with your head stuck in the freezer. The only source of direct light comes from your freezer, and you’re glad you’ve lived in your place long enough to navigate in the dark. The green digital clock digits flash on your oven. It’s getting close to 4:00 am, but you can’t sleep.

The icepack, or more like a water pack at this point, left a giant wet spot on your carpet while it thawed. It now sits in a lumped form in the side door, wedged between a frozen loaf of bread and some microwavable pizza bagels. The coldness of the freezer feels nice on your skin, but it’s not enough to make you feel numb.

You feel hot and stuffy, and your mind has a million thoughts running around at once. You make him tell you why you should be his date to a stupid costume party, and he tells you he likes you. However, his dumbass knocks out immediately after while he’s still holding you tight in his arms. You’re left alone with your thoughts and a pounding heart while you wait for him to finally let go of you when he is asleep.

Truthfully, you want to tear your hair out. It’s not like you couldn’t wake him up to make him tell you whether or not he finished his sentence. However, you think you’ve already tested his patience enough in one day. You would trust his “I like you” more if he told you while he was drunk, but telling you and then immediately knocking out? You really don’t know if it could count as a confession.

So now you whisper scream into a frozen bag of mixed vegetables while you think about everything that happened this night. You think about him showing up at your door. You think about the hickies he leaves between your thighs. You think about the way he kisses you after you moan his name.

“Seokmin,” find yourself whispering his name.

You don’t understand how this name is so different from the others, but your fingers softly touch your lips as if you just whispered something you weren’t supposed to say. 

“Aww I get it. Jane Goodall. That’s so cute.”

“This is NOT a couple’s costume. I am clearly a hiker,” Chan angrily grumbles at the passerby while dumping another scoop of ice into the glass fishbowl on the kitchen island. He takes out his red handkerchief to wipe his hands and places it around his neck when he’s done.

“Why are you annoyed that people think you’re Jane Goodall? She’s one of the greatest scientists of our time. Do you not appreciate our women scientists? Women in STEM?” Jun asks him while he pops another sour gummy worm into his mouth. He licks the sour and sugary coating off his fingers one by one and wipes them dry on his monkey onesie.

You grab the bag of gummies from the table and dump the rest into the bowl. You tap and shake the edge of the bag until all of the remaining sugar falls into the bowl. Jun quickly plucks a worm out of the bowl before Chan turns around with a bottle of blue curacao in one hand and a bottle of coconut rum in the other hand. Chan insists on making fish bowls at parties for the three of you to share because he refuses to drink the jungle juice Jeonghan and Joshua make for parties. No matter how many times the two show Chan how they clean the giant clear plastic storage container they use for the juice, Chan absolutely refuses to drink from it. He argues that it’s a breeding ground for bacteria from people scooping the liquid with their cups, but Jeonghan dumbly replies that the amount of alcohol in the jungle juice should be enough to kill the germs.

By the time you’re done saying hello to some friends, Chan is already done making the bowl. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs it from his blue and grey colored top, looking at his creation with satisfaction. He swirls the bright blue concoction with three straws and tops it off with a paper umbrella toothpick he found in Jeonghan’s kitchen cabinets. Bon appétit.

The bright blue concoction stains your tongue, but it gives you a really nice buzz before you know how its aftereffects will hit you like a giant tsunami later. However, any precautious thought about getting too drunk and waking up with a massive hangover gets thrown out the window when Chan reminds you that the reason why the three of you took a ride-share cab is that you wantedto get fucked up. So the three of you smile and continue drinking.

.

The three of you are about two-thirds into finishing the fish bowl when you see DK and his friends stumble through the front door. DK’s dressed in the same slutty fireman costume he wears – the firefighter suit hanging low on his hips with the shoulder straps dangling, the hose on his shoulder, and the white tank top decorated with streaks of ash. You see Jeonghan greet him with a jello shot in his hand. The firefighter takes it from him and swirls his tongue around the perimeter of the jello, loosening it from the tiny container, and knocks it back swiftly in one go. He passes the container back to Jeonghan with no amount of blue raspberry flavored gelatin remaining on the inside. And all you can do is stare at him with your straw in your mouth while your friends attempt to play Jenga in their buzzed states.

It’s not long before you take your eyes off DK and realize that you finished the rest of the bowl by yourself. You tap in while Jun taps out of the game so he can happily scoop the slimy gummies out of the bowl and into his mouth. The tower looks jagged enough that one knee bumping against the table leg can easily knock the tower over. Shrek places their block on top of the tower with a shaky hand and sighs when the tower doesn’t topple over. A vampire bites their lip as they remove a side piece from the middle. You hold your breath as they slowly wiggle the piece loose, frowning when they successfully take it out of the stack and add it to the tower.

All eyes are on you as you hover your hand next to the piece that you want. You think if you take out that specific piece, you would make the tower a bit more balanced when it comes to how it leans. It also makes it harder for Chan to pull out a piece because he would end up shifting the balance if he pulled a block. Everything is in your favor – from the EDM song shuffling to a club song to your friends watching you silently – there is nothing that shouldn’t rule in your favor.

However, somebody behind you shrieks your name, and the tower topples. A few filled shot glasses are immediately placed in front of you, and everybody’s phone cameras are pointed at you, waiting to record you taking the shots. You sigh before bringing the first shot up to your mouth. You didn’t even get to touch the Jenga piece.

The perpetrator who stands behind you cheers the loudest every time you tip each empty shot glass over your head. He raises your hand in triumph and hugs you from behind your seat. The tsunami that’s been building up in the distance crashes. And by the end of it, you’re good as gone.

.

He tells you that no matter how comfortable his shoulder may feel at that moment, you do need to sit up and drink some water. And DK, for what seems like the nth time, hands you a bottle of water to drink.

He thanks the person who passed him the water bottle and stops for a minute. He points at him while scanning his outfit. “Hiker,” he finally decides on his answer.

“THANK YOU,” Chan yells at him while slapping him repeatedly on the back, unaware of his own strength, making DK flinch a little. Chan drunkenly decides that DK will become the fourth  person to drink from his fishbowl. He drags Jun, who is chatting up Trixie from the Fairly Odd Parents, with him to the kitchen to make a fresh batch.

DK is the type of person to make you forget, but not in a forgetful type of way. He makes you forget about your troubles. He makes you forget about the resident knocking on his door while the two of you hide in bed together. He makes you forget you’re at a house party in a room full of people. At that moment it’s just you leaning on his shoulder with his arm wrapped securely around you. None of you are hiding the fact that there’s something budding between the both of you. It feels nice, liberating even.

“Hi baby. You doing okay?” he asks you after making sure you drank until the waterline hit the top of the plastic label despite him being extremely drunk.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you mumble while falling back onto his shoulder, feeling yourself slowly sober up.

“Yeah?”

“But don’t tell anybody or else I’ll have your head,” you turn your head and glare at him.

“I’m not sure if that was a sexual reference or maybe you’ve been reading too many isekai mangas that Jun sends you,” he chuckles while laying your head on his shoulder. He almost sighs in relief when you don’t blame him for you losing Jenga earlier.

He gives an okay signal to any passerby who asks if you’re doing alright. 

“You weren’t by my side the whole time I was here. You’re a liar. Slutty liar.”

“I’m horrible aren’t I?” he kisses the top of your head.

“The worst.”

You never knew what “a beat” indicates in screenplays. You didn’t get why the screenwriter would want to indicate a pause. Nothing that you experienced in your life ever indicated a pause in the conversation. But now you understand. There are so many things you want to say, things you’re too afraid to say. You have questions for him, but you’re also happy he’s on your side. Maybe a “beat” is a filler. This pause in the conversation, you staring at him – eyes trying not to waver to his lips – it’s a mutual understanding between the two of you, something that makes up for what words cannot say. 

“I need to pee.”

.

Now is definitely not a good time to be confused about whether you need to pee or if you’re simply horny.

Tonight the two of you are sloppy, bodies pressed against each other in the quiet hallway of a house party. Someone occupies the hallway bathroom, and you’re leaning with your back against the wall. DK stands in front of you with his left forearm leaning against the wall in the space next to your right ear. He kisses along your jawline, nipping the base of your neck. The softness of his lips caresses your skin, blending into the waves while you slur your moans. He hushes you by covering his lips over yours. You prefer him closer to you so you reach behind his head to pull him into you. His mouth opens, and your tongue glosses over his. He meets you in the middle, circling his around yours and groaning when you tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Your hand roams across his chest, and he pushes into your thigh, grinding against you. Both of you are too drunk, too lost in each other to care if others are looking.

He pulls his head back and looks at you with a hooded gaze. He can’t believe the sight in front of him and the ache he feels inside of him. He leans his head against the side of your ear, nipping softly at your lobe before talking to you in a low voice, “I want to pin you against the wall with your legs wrapped around my waist while I whisper every single thought I’m having about you into your ear. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of this party without me supporting you. Everybody passing by will see how well you take me while you beg for me to pound into you deeper and harder. Then, you’d have to say goodbye to all of your friends while trying to keep my cum from leaking out of your sore pussy. I want to be able to open your legs and see it seeping out of you while I fuck it into you again in the car.”

Another beat.

This time it’s different. You feel your knees buckle underneath his body, sliding slightly down the wall. You look at his face hovering over yours, practically begging him to kiss you again. Anything. But he doesn’t. The two of you stay silent while you hear cheers from the living room. Then he proceeds to pull away as if nothing happened between you. He has the dopiest grin on his face. He cheeses at you – tiny wrinkles at the edge of his eyes and his pearly whites in full view. You’re still struggling to process the stream of consciousness he spoke into your ear.

“I like your pizza costume,” he giggles while poking your costume, especially the edges of the crust that hang off your shoulders.

“I bought it because I thought it might humor you,” you mumble while he takes your hands in his.

You see how much he’s gushing with happiness. You think he’s so cute, happy that your costume has such a positive effect on him. But you’re slightly annoyed that he’s able to move onto a different subject so quickly while you’re still stuck on the last one. You want more.

However, he tells you he really likes you and leans in to peck your cheek. When he pulls back, the bathroom door opens, and out steps Lee Jihoon who immediately grabs DK by his left ear and drags him away from you. “No fucking in the hallway,” he reprimands his friend.

DK only smiles at you while he’s being pulled away by his ear, too drunk to care, two finger hearts pointed directly at you.

You can only stand next to the vacant bathroom, now soberer than ever and seriously turned on.

You wake up on the floor next to your bed and slowly push yourself off the carpet, feeling the soreness in your body. You look at the carpet indents in your arm and then your surroundings. You notice your bed is empty, and Chan is asleep in his extra set of clothes, sprawled on the floor near your bedroom door. You can’t remember what happened in the latter half of the night, but you can at least deduce that all of you were at least sober enough to change out of your costumes and get ready for bed.

Your body is sore from sleeping on your floor, and you still feel pretty groggy. Still, the sweet scent of something coming from the kitchen is enough to convince you to walk outside instead of moving onto your bed to sleep some more. You stand up, knees cracking loudly, and you cross over Chan to exit your bedroom. You think it’s Jun who’s cooking, but you see him in his monkey onesie, passed out next to your rack of shoes near your entrance with a spare blanket covering him.

At least he has a blanket, you think to yourself. You woke up cold and with nothing covering you.

You see him standing in front of your toaster, wearing the extra set of clothes he keeps at your place. You see him place waffles into your toaster, minding his business while he hums to himself.

“Why are you here?” you approach him and stand by his side. You can see used wine glasses in the sink and opened chip bags you don’t remember buying sitting on the counter. The four of you probably continued drinking after arriving at your apartment. You hope there’s nobody else sleeping in your place.

“I dunno,” DK shrugs and proceeds to greet you by pulling you into his arms while he stands behind you, keeping a close eye on the frozen waffles.

You don’t get how he can look like he didn’t spend all of last night drinking. He looks completely refreshed with the kind of glow, an aura, you have after a good workout…not that you ever experienced what it must be like. He just looks like one of those smiling actors in fitness commercials.

You can feel his chest rumble against your back as he tells you he’s sorry he couldn’t cook something better for the four of you because he’s been living in the dorms for years. He honestly hasn’t touched a stove since he went home last summer. However, he did perfect cooking frozen food in microwaves and toasters. It’s the least he can do. He also quickly adds that he’s sorry he’s cooking all of your frozen waffles and would gladly reimburse you. You tell him to fuck off. There’s no way you would ever make him pay you back for making breakfast. He should know that by now.

The toaster pops, scaring you a little. A long yawn follows, and DK chuckles at you rubbing your eyes. He removes the waffles from the toaster and tells you to close your eyes. You dumbly follow, believing he’s going to kiss you when he cups your face in his hands. Instead, he rubs the inner corner of your eyes with his thumbs. “Eye boogers,” he says.

“Gross,” you watch him flick them to the ground.

“You thought that I was going to kiss you, huh,” he teases you while adding more frozen waffles into the toaster.

You grumble at him and stand to the side, leaning against your fridge. Your arms are crossed, and you watch him go back to humming the song he was humming before. It’s the same song playing from the speakers when the three of you decide to bring DK back to your apartment as there was no way he would have been allowed on campus in his state. It was partly Chan’s fault for getting him so fucked up – he couldn’t find regular vodka for the bowl so he replaced it with some Everclear he found tucked away under the sink. Jun tells him he really needs to stop snooping in Jeonghan’s cabinets. That’s when your memory starts to clear.

“Do you happen to remember what you told me before Jihoon dragged you away?” you curiously ask him.

You expect him to deny the memory or laugh at your sudden boldness, but he tells you that he knows better than to drink to the point where he blacks out and loses his memory. He would also like to stay true to his word, all of it.

“If you’re going to fuck in the kitchen, at least give us the waffles first,” Jun groans from the hallway.

DK winks at you in response, but you don’t know if he was referring to his second confession or if he promised the reality of his sexual fantasy. Before you can clarify, Jun appears in the kitchen, opening the dishwasher to grab a ceramic plate.

It shouldn’t be this confusing. DK told you that he liked you twice. You’re also pretty sure you like him. Nevertheless, it’s DK. He tends to joke around and switch from topic to topic. He throws words of affirmation at everybody he talks with. He confuses you even when you feel like you shouldn't be confused. 

“God Yn. You can’t be doing this to me.”

He sits upright, and his hands are positioned to his sides, tightly gripping his bedsheets.

You use his thighs as your support as you ride him, slowly bouncing up and down so he can watch his cock appear and disappear into your cunt.

You feel him twitching in you as you let soft moans float out of your mouth as you arch your back more and lean your head back toward the ceiling. You make sure you gyrate your hips switching between circular and back and forth motions as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He wonders how your soft mewls would break into staccato moans if you were to continuously bounce on him, letting lust cloud his thoughts.

Then you lean further backward, practically grinding on him. He feels your ass rub against his balls, and he does everything he can to restrain himself from rutting himself upwards into your cunt. He knows your thighs are tired as your breathing gets heavier and the way you grind against him gets messier. You sit on him, your whole body trembling and twitching from pleasure simply from the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside you. He feels so warm today, so good, stretching you nicely as you tell him all he needs to do is to sit there and look pretty. You reward him by sitting upright, guiding his hands from behind his back so they rest on your ass. He kneads them roughly, feeling your skin fill the spaces between his fingers.

Your ass cheeks feel sore, and you can’t stop panting when grind on him, rocking him so crudely that his bed begins to squeak. You bring a hand in front of you to start rubbing your nub, and high-pitched whimpers instantaneously escape your mouth. Your soft circular motions increase speed, attacking your soft flesh and making you forget he’s in you.

“Hng Seok,” your face is scrunched in pleasure, “Fucking myself feels so good.” You smirk at him as you ride out your high, knowing very well it would piss him off. You can tell he’s already a little upset you’re fucking him in cowgirl when he doesn’t get to do anything but sit there. 

Annoyed, he brings his right hand upwards and brings it down quickly against your ass. The crisp slap rings throughout his empty room, and he feels you clench around him as you gasp out loud. He slaps your ass again, finding deep pleasure in watching you pulse and quake around him and hearing you moan. 

You lift yourself slightly upwards, having regained some energy, and reach under you to grab the base of his shaft. You watch his face contort from annoyance to surprise to pleasure as you stroke him, squeezing and releasing incrementally as you simultaneously fuck his upper half. 

You can tell he is about to cum when he starts reaching for your face. He wants to make out with you, to dig his fingers into your back as you suck his neck. He moans your name, cavernous and gutturally, and tells you you’re doing so well. His sweet, sweet baby. The way you’re fucking him makes him go feral. 

Just then, there is a knock on his door, and he immediately pushes you off of him, practically hopping off his bed so he can run to his door barefooted and naked. He tells them to wait a minute as he’s wrapping something up. 

You sigh, quickly following behind him so you can hide in his closet, already used to having his residents show up out of the blue. You hand him his sweater and a pair of shorts before climbing into his closet and closing the doors behind you. 

You hear him open his door a minute later. You’re not sure what the topic of their conversation is as everything sounds muffled. You hear DK tell them that he has to grab a few things first, and then he’ll meet them in their room. He closes his front door and opens his closet. 

He looks worried. You observe it must be something important or an emergency as he doesn’t bother to make himself look presentable or deodorize the smell of sex lingering on his skin. He tells you he’s sorry and that he’ll try to be quick. He kisses you on the forehead before leaving with his stuff. However, he tells you you’re welcome to leave. And you sit there in his closet, alone and naked, the spot on your forehead burning. The motion-sensor lights in his bedroom turn themselves off, and you know you’re fucked by the way he gave you a choice to leave instead of telling you, begging you, finding stupid ways to get you to stay like he always does. 

Your feelings are hurt, and you’re pathetically close to tears. Why is it that every time you look at him or talk to him, it feels like you have to stop yourself from having your confession burst out of your mouth? “I like you” always feels like it’s sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you’re too scared to confess to him. 

It’s dark inside the closet, but you’ve been in his room enough times to know what’s hanging above you and sitting beside you. His business shirts are hanging above your head. On the other side of the closet, he has his pants. They’re organized by fabric type and colors. The jeans hang on the far right side of the closet. The sweats and athletic tights are next. Then he has his business pants. Dark colors are on the right, and light colors are on the left. His clothing hanger hooks are always hung over the closet rod, never under. Yet, at this moment, everything feels so foreign, like you’re a new person in a new place. But it’s because you are a different person now – a person who has fallen for their friends with benefits. 

The metal front door whirs and clicks open. You can hear the automatic lights flicker. He tells you he’s alone and that you can come out as he sees your stuff in his room. You’re not replying. 

“Shit Yn,” he opens his closet to find you still sitting in the dark closet, staring into nothing. “Aren’t you cold?”

You shake your head.

“Did you go pee? You should go pee,” he says expressionlessly. There’s not an ounce of care present in his suggestion.  

He leaves your side and stalks over to his bed, throwing himself on it. He loudly groans into a pillow to rid some of his stress. You can only climb out of the closet, your jaw clenched. “I like you! I like you a lot” is still in your mouth, taunting you, threatening to escape. 

“Is he done yet?”

“Bro he literally just started. Have a little more faith in Chan, okay?” you mumble at Jun while looking at your phone. You lock the screen and place your phone face down on the table.

Today is a day for firsts. It is the first time Jun and you are trying the café across the nice-looking residential building near campus. It’s the first time you try an iced mint mojito coffee when you usually have its alcoholic counterpart. It’s the first time Jun had a professor cancel class this semester. It’s also the first time Chan hooks up with somebody he met on the dating app Jun set up for him. It’s also the first time you’ll openly admit that Jun somehow has the most “game” compared to the three of you. Strange universe.

Jun knows something is bothering you. Your comebacks have become snarkier, yet you’ve been more lenient with whatever he does around you. He once told you to pay for the three of your dinners, and you passed him your credit card without saying anything. And it’s not like DK hasn’t been becoming less of the topic of your conversations - you’ve been quieter. And he doesn’t know what’s going on because he’s scared you might punch him. So he doesn’t ask you and only looks around the café’s nice interior, choosing to count the number of glossy white honeycomb tiles on the wall.

“How can you walk up to somebody and ask them out even though you don’t know them?” you blurt loudly at him out of the blue.

“Me?” Jun dumbly asks you. He already forgot the tile number he was on.

You nod your head while you bring your drink up to your lips.

He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms.

“You know how blunt I am.”

You nod your head, recounting all of the times he was called out for his bluntness.

“I think you already know how I can sometimes rub people off in the wrong way because I accidentally say things that I don’t mean. Sometimes people like you understand me and sometimes people don’t. I guess it’s like people liking you? Sometimes people will like my bluntness and sometimes it comes off in the wrong way. So I think it’s the same for liking people? You either like somebody or you don’t? So I’ll ask anybody out as long as I’m interested in them because the answer is always a simple yes or no.”

You’re so confused.

“You literally jumped from one topic to another. I literally could not follow you at all,” you blink.

“Well I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up in defeat. He’s not used to giving helpful advice nor is he used to having people go to him for advice. He wonders if he should start counting the number of chairs in the café.

He remembers an interaction he had in front of your apartment building last week. He was surprised that DK would call him and ask if he could meet him in front of your apartment. Jun told him that Yn is home and that he could just knock on your door, but DK unequivocally rejected his idea and told Jun to come. Jun saw him walking back in forth in front of your apartment building sign with a bunch of ugly roses in his hand, obviously stressed out of his mind. He asked him what was wrong.

“I dunno. I think they’ve been avoiding me for some reason,” DK tells Jun once he feels calmer with the older boy around him. 

“But they’re literally wilting, bro,” Jun tells DK with clear judgment in his voice. “Some of the petals are black. I’d avoid you if you gave me wilting roses,” he points at all the petals with darkened tips and wrinkles.

“Yn will like them,” DK insists. “They think they look cool like that.”

Jun brought them to your apartment for DK, not wanting to ask or press him for more information. Although, he would have to admit it was a bit confusing to have DK ask him to deliver the flowers for him. Albeit, you are pretty scary when you’re mad. You were pretty enthusiastic when you saw the flowers in his hand, but you immediately slammed the door on him when he told you they were from DK. However, you did open your door again to let him use your restroom.

“Do you like DK but you’re having trouble figuring out whether or not he likes you?” Jun cautiously approaches you with his question.

You nod and spill your troubles to your best friend. You tell him about the two times he told you he liked you and about the day you hid in his closet. You tell him about the roses – how he didn’t text you or leave you a card so that you don’t know why he bought the roses and why he couldn’t deliver them himself. You tell him about the “not a date” dates and how he calls you pet names.

Jun tells you it sounds confusing, but it’s actually pretty normal to fall for your friend with benefits especially if you have a strong emotional connection. That’s how normal people fall in love. He feels for you and understands how confusing it must be for you when the two of you have basically skipped the dating part and landed in the married for thirty years part of the relationship without being in a relationship.

“But isn’t it tiring have to hide?” he asks you. “How many times did you have to hide because of a resident? How many times did you have to fake not knowing him or not liking him whenever you saw somebody flirting with him?”

“Too many times,” you admit. It’s exhausting.

Jun only nods and grabs his set of keys from the café table. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, “Lemme buy you dessert while I pay for Chan’s ‘congrats on your first hook-up’ cake.”

You stare at your friend, “You aren’t going to give me helpful advice?” You’re dumbfounded.

“Who do I look like to you? Yahoo answers? Reddit? If you want helpful advice, suck it up and tell him that you need to talk to him and talk. It’s going to eat you alive before your future cats get to eat you.”

Fuck. Jun’s right.

Today is a weird day for firsts.

“But I literally just nutted,” DK tells you while you storm into his dorm.

He’s shirtless and is wearing those grey sweatpants that ride dangerously low on his hips. He looks like he just woke up from a nap, his hair messy and matted. A bottle of unscented lotion sits on his nightstand.

“Did you want to shower or do laundry with me later?” he asks you, letting his door shut behind him. He follows you to his bed. “Did you want to get dinner with me? We have a while until Chan’s night class ends. I know you usually wait for him so you can walk home with him.”

You sit on the edge of his bed and pat the space next to you, telling him to sit next to you. He sits next to you and looks at you with a worried expression.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I have it in me to fuck right now unless you find a way to help me get it up,” he confesses while scratching the back of his ear. He’ll say anything to fill the awkward silence, but he’s glad to see you after being out of touch for a week.

He sees you frowning, and his breath hitches when you turn to him.

“You confuse me DK,” your voice wavers. “I like you so much, but you keep on sending me mixed signals by telling me you like me and then acting like nothing happened. And then you’re so kind to me, and you call me those names while constantly treating me like I’m in a relationship with you when I’m not.”

“Oh, Yn,” his lip quivers.

“You don’t understand how much I like you, how much I want to stop being friends with benefits with you. But you confuse me so much. Your kindness is confusing and I wish you were meaner so I wouldn’t have fallen for you…why are you crying?” you slap his bicep.

He flinches in pain from the slap because he’s still shirtless, but the tears keep running down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he cries while clutching his arm. “I thought I was being straightforward with my feelings, but I hurt you instead,” he wails, “I’ve started liking you longer than you could imagine.”

You don’t know how to react to him crying while confessing, so you awkwardly get up and walk over to his mini fridge to bring him one of his frozen sponge packs to ice his arm.

.

You kiss him back before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators, giddy on the inside.

You make your way past all the bright green dormitory doors and stop in front of the elevators. At the side of the elevator is the large classroom bulletin board with DK’s stupid laminated face smiling at you. This time the board is sky blue. You can recognize the clouds glued onto the board anywhere – they’re sheep repurposed into clouds from when he did the board about sleep facts. Hot air balloons decorate the board. Expensive cardstock letters spell the title: Love is in the air, and so are STDs! You snicker at the tiny rips in the blue background from students ripping off the taped condoms to use for themselves before stepping into the elevator.

Your phone in your pocket buzzes when you step out of the elevator and exit the dormitory. You pull out your phone while standing outside. It’s a text from DK. He says he’s been waiting for a while now, but he wants to be a bit selfish tonight. He asks you if you’re free this Friday night even though he knows your schedule like the back of his hand. He sends another text to let you know he’s horny again, but he missed you. A lot. 

You scoff and shake your head with how serious he sounds as you drop your bracelet onto a bowl with a small clang as the warmth of his body radiates towards your back with how close he stands. “Approach what?” You sigh as you feel one of his hands snake around your body over your hip pulling you back towards him. 

“Seokmin…we haven’t even had dinner.” He scoffs this time and removes his other hand from his pocket sliding his along your stomach upwards over your breast as you lick your lips. Your hips instinctively half grind back against him as he holds you there. “Fuck dinner. You said something to me today, love, that just…fuck it ate me up. You see…” His fingers over your chest start to work, opening the buttons of your button up slowly as he speaks. 

“When I say something to you, I fucking mean it. I don’t say anything because I’m trying to appeal to you. I already know who you belong to darling.” His lips press along your ear as he speaks, making your thighs brush together as he tugs your shirt from your dress pants finishing the buttons. “I asked you for a picture of your beautiful face today. You sent it like the angel you are and I said what to you?” 

You whine softly as his fingers on your hip slide towards the clasp of your pants as his teeth play with the lob of your ear waiting for you to speak. When you don’t he growls and pushes you towards the dresser slightly before speaking against your ear again. “What did I send back to you, baby?” You moan, feeling his erection pressing against his dress pants as he pushes his hips towards your ass as his fingers work your zipper down. 

“You…you told me that I was gorgeous.” Seokmin nods and pulls you back from the dresser taking a few steps back with you in tow as he moves his hands to push your pants down your legs letting them fall with gravity to your feet. Once you have stepped out of them he slides your shirt from your arms leaving you in your bra and panties before wrapping his arms back around you walking you towards the full length standing mirror in your room. 

When you whine and glance back at him he gives you a look raising his brow before he lets go of you and grabs a chair from the corner. One that has no arms, just a back, something you sit on to put on your stockings or sometimes even in front of your vanity. You watch as he places it in front of the mirror before he comes back to you and sits on the chair before putting you on his knee. “And tell me gorgeous, what did you send back to me?” 

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment as you look away from the mirror as his hands move over your body. One up your back as he unclasps your bra, the other running over your thigh as he looks up at you. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you sent back to me.” You sigh, closing your eyes before you look back at the mirror to watch your bra fall off your chest down your arms before Seokmin pulls it away and drops it on the floor. 

“I…said that I wasn’t. I said…I…” You choke on the words and Seokmin lifts a hand to run it over your cheek almost sadly before tracing your lips. “You said you were ugly, and I said to take it back. Then you told me no.” You look at Seokmin in his eyes feeling slightly ashamed at your earlier conversation when you see the sadness in his eyes as he also has such adoration dripping from them when he looks at you. “I want…you to take those words back. So I’m going to make you understand what I see when I look at you.” 

You close your eyes and Seokmin pulls you down by the back of your neck to brush his lips over yours before he whispers in the kiss. “Remember I love you.” You swallow hard and nod whispering back that you love him. When he pulls back he runs his fingers over your neck and down your chest making you arch before he speaks again. “Stop looking at me and look into the mirror. Don’t look at me again. Now stand up.” 

Seokmin helps you stand on slightly unsteady legs as he remains sitting. Your eyes still on the mirror and on yourself as his hands move to slide your panties down your legs. “There…” You hear his words and feel them as his mouth brushes against the small of your back before he presses a kiss to your skin. “Stand there.” You sigh wanting to close your eyes as you feel him shifting and can see him stand as he strips behind you. 

His shirt and tie falling to your feet before his pants and boxers follow. If anyone in this room was beautiful in your eyes it was the man behind you but you didn’t dare say anything to that nature out of fear of hurting him or ruining what he was trying to tell you. “Now baby. This beautiful, stunning, woman in this mirror in front of you is the love of my life. You aren’t always kind to her but I try to be.” 

You can’t help but you smile knowing he is. Seokmin smiles as you do as he looks over your shoulder. His fingers move along your hips as he steps in close to you. His nose brushes against your ear before he hums against your ear when you feel his cock press against your ass. Seokmin looks back into the mirror and smirks at you as you arch slightly to his touch. 

“I’m going to fuck my pretty girlfriend in front of this mirror. You are going to watch and every single time I say something to you such as…” He smiles as he leans to breath against your ear as his fingers dip between your legs making you moan. “You are such a good girl.You are going to repeat that back to me. Do it.” You shake your head and Seokmin growls sliding his finger along your clit as he hisses against your ear. 

“You are…such a good girl, who is going to listen tonight.” You whine, your knees buckling as you become breathless grabbing his arm. “I’m..I’m a good girl. I’m going to listen tonight.” Seokmin smiles and presses a kiss to your ear when you finally say what you are supposed to as his finger circles your clit gently. “You are so loved.” You whine and look in the mirror as he peeks at you. 

“I..I am loved.” He nods and takes a step back with you as he sits down and carefully brings you with him. You sit on his leg as his free hand strokes his cock, his fingers moving to slide towards your entrance. “Spread your legs.” You nod and do as you are told only to watch as Seokmin slowly slides two of his fingers into you. “You are a goddess.” 

“Seokmin…I can’t say that.” He sighs and curls his fingers into you kissing your shoulder before his fingers bury into you making you gasp loudly falling back against him. “You are a goddess.” When you try to close your legs, Seokmin lets go of his cock in place of keeping your legs open as he fingers you. “I’m, oh fuck. You’re gonna make me cum Seokmin.” 

He hums and bites at your shoulder before moving his lips back to your ear. “Say the words.” You moan loudly, feeling yourself come undone as you finally give in, “I’m a goddess.” Seokmin groans against your neck, feeling your cum seep around his fingers as he slowly pulls them from your pussy only to run them along your folds. “Yes you are.” 

When your thighs jerk slightly, Seokmin smirks before bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean before helping you sit up as he lines his cock up with your entrance before looking at you in the mirror as you pant for a deep breath. He never looks away as he slowly lowers you down over him as you moan his name like a mantra taking him inch by inch until you are fully seated over him, his hand against your stomach as he groans on your shoulder. 

“You are perfect.” You whine at the compliment before meeting his eyes for a moment before looking at the mirror as he starts to help you move when you finally speak. “I’m perfect.” He nods and massages his thumbs along your hips as he sucks on his bottom lip for a moment before glancing back at the mirror to watch you take his cock. 

“That’s right…made for me. You were made for me.” That one was easy, you nod and hold your hands over his as you whimper feeling close to your orgasm already. “I was made for you.” He gasps into a groan at how you clench him. “Oh fuck baby. You are so beautiful.” There it was, his eyes met yours in the mirror and he watched you take pause. 

His fingers lace with yours as he guides one over your breast and keeps the other over your hip keeping you moving as you simply stare at the mirror. “Say it.” You hear the desperation in his voice knowing he is just as close as you are when he finally moves your other hand between your legs and uses his fingers and yours to brush over your clit making you gasp. 

“You are so fucking beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I am the luckiest man in the world.” You shake your head and close your eyes for a moment as Seokmin’s hand moves from yours letting it drop from your breast in place of holding your face gently. “Open your eyes.” 

You do and look in the mirror to take a breath as you feel him pull you back closer with his other hand as he chooses to wrap the arm around you to hold you close as you start to tremble around his cock. “I’m beautiful.” Seokmin nods against your neck and kisses your cheek before turning your face towards him so he can kiss you muttering that he loves you as you cum again. 

Moaning softly against his lips you tell him the same as your eyes close finally when tears threaten to spill over from being overwhelmed. Seokmin quickly follows you with his own climax only to hold you close, his mouth moving slowly with yours. The kiss is deep and tender as his thumb brushes under your eye to catch any tears before he pulls back. 

“Are you okay?” You nod but Seokmin carefully slips from you only to turn you around and pull you back on to his lap so he can cup your face with both hands looking you over making sure. His eyes are searching yours carefully for any signs of pain or hurt. When you put your hands over his and lean in to kiss him, Seokmin smiles on your lips and his heart clenches when you mutter that you love him on his lips. 

“Baby I love you more than anything.” He speaks muffled against your lips before pulling back to push your hair away from your face. “That’s why…I just…I needed to make you see it and say it. You are so important. Never say those things about yourself again. Ever, promise me?” Tears do slip from your eyes now and Seokmin’s thumbs are quick to brush them away, his lips quick to follow his thumbs kissing your cheeks. 

“I promise.” He nods and mutters that he is sorry, making you laugh as you pull back this time and shake your head. “Sorry for what?” Seokmin smiles and gestures around the room and sighs, leaning his head back. “I went about this a little intensely, we can’t really lie about that now can we?” You smile and tilt his head back up kissing his cheek then his lips. “No but that is very you, Lee Seokmin.” 

He smiles gently and nods before brushing his nose with yours and taking a breath just taking in the silence before speaking again. “So…what’s for dinner?” You can’t help but to laugh as you lean back and smack at his chest making him laugh as you slide off his lap and move to the closet telling him to order something. Seokmin mutters okay as he watches you with complete adoration. 

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please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

jeonghan！

· likes to facetime you while he builds his legos, while he cooks, while he unpacks, etc.

· he likes having you propped up against some random object in the room while he does a silly little task, he enjoys the domesticity of it all (and it allows him to imagine himself in a relationship with you where’d you’d actually be together doing these things but he won’t admit that)

· he’ll recap every last detail of his day, sharing his screen to show you the photos he took during his free time

· always encourages you to speak when it looks like you want to comment on something or add to his story

· he also likes to make the same drink or food as you so you can have the same things to snack on while you talk, to really make it feel like you’re together in person

· when you start to drift off, he knows he should end the call, but he can’t bring himself to hang up when you look so at peace, it’s when he thinks you’re the most beautiful

· moves his phone to the bedside table as he gets cozy under his covers, a small smile on his face as he listens to your breathing and falls asleep himself

· wakes up to the sound of the facetime ending, and always giggles at your texts that tell him to just hang up if you fall asleep, that it’s embarrassing, that you probably look gross, but he’ll always tell you that he thinks quite the opposite, hoping you’ll catch the hints he’s dropping

joshua！

· always leaning right up to the camera when you’re on facetime because he likes how nervous you get when you notice how close he is

· he loves to hear about your day, and will always ask for a complete rundown of everything you did, down to the socks you wore (he also thinks that the look on your face as you’re trying to remember everything is the most adorable thing he has ever seen)

· such a good listener, he’s always nodding along to everything you’re saying, and always encouraging you to continue speaking even if you hear noise or the members talking in the background

· has a folder on his phone for all his screenshots of you (“wait, do that again. what you just did… yeah” [joshua took a facetime photo] “stop taking pictures of me!” “no you look cute”)

· loves when you go shopping and show him everything you got, recounting the moment you saw it and the reasoning behind your purchase

· even if he doesn’t care for the item himself he’s still so invested because you like it so much and you’re showing it to him

· he’s always telling you that you should go to bed when it starts to get late, yet he stays on call with you even when you get tucked into bed, yawning and barely forming coherent sentences

· takes more screenshots while you fall asleep, telling himself it’s only because he can use them to make fun of you later (why is his heart beating so fast?)

junhui！

· the second he gets home after a long day at work he’s running to his room to call you

· as the phone rings all he can focus on is the way he’s absolutely itching to see you and have you tell him everything about your day

· if you answer him while you’re doing something, he’ll feel so bad for interrupting you and you have to spend five minutes telling him that if what you were doing was really that important you wouldn’t have answered in the first place

· you always catch him grinning at you with not a single thought behind his eyes except for how infatuated with you he is, but when you ask him why he’s not saying anything he just tells you to keep talking

· one of the compliments he gives you the most is how much he loves your voice. he loves hearing you talk about any and everything, and he truly misses hearing it in person, his days are so much more boring without you ranting about your new hyperfixation, or reading the instructions on packaging out loud while you attempt to cook something new, or complaining about that cousin that you hate

· however, he equally enjoys when you’re quiet, lying down in bed with your eyes closed, simply inhaling and exhaling while he ignores his own yawns and fluttering eyelids to look at you a little longer

· takes lots of screenshots before he falls asleep so he can tell you how cute you are the next morning

soonyoung！

· always calls you right after he gets back to the hotel and showers

· his eyes light up while he’s talking about the show, and you can’t help but smile at him as he recounts every last detail, making him break into a grin as well

· most of your calls consist of you sitting in silence, giggling at one another until you think of something else to say

· anytime you bring something up, he’ll always tell you to show him the item, send him the person’s instagram or take a picture of the place next time. he wants to be involved in your life and know what you know and understand how you see things. so please remember to send him a video of the stray kitten that lives on the corner of your street next time.

· when the exhaustion begins to hit him, he always gets particularly sappy, going on rants about how much he wishes you were with him, telling you he misses you so badly it almost hurts, and how he feels like facetime is never enough

· you have to reassure him that you’ll be seeing each other soon, that he’s coming back soon, but it’ll do nothing to rid him of his pain (he does this even when you’re in the same city)

· always tells you goodnight even when you’re asleep, and sometimes even lets an i love you slip out, secretly hoping you’ll hear it one day

wonwoo！

· often opts for texting instead of calling just because it’s easier to communicate with you while being mindful of time differences

· but if you say you’re up for it? his fingers are frantically swiping to the facetime app and scrolling down to your name within seconds

· his favourite activity to do on a call with you is read to you

· he’ll pull out the most recent book he’s reading and recite paragraph after paragraph to you, sometimes taking a little break to share a little memory that one particular sentence reminds him of (or to let you know that it reminds him of you)

· notices exactly when you start to feel tired and lowers his voice to a quieter tone as to not disturb you

· he usually stops reading when he knows you’ve fallen asleep, but sometimes he’ll pause a little earlier just to hear you whine for him to continue, it gives him the perfect opportunity to tease you about how much you like his voice (don’t mind the blush that appears on his face and the audible smile in his voice after you groggily tell him you’re not asleep yet)

· when you really do fall asleep, he quietly closes the book and rests it on the bedside table, snuggling into his covers and staring at you for a while before he hangs up, because he would never sleep if you were still on the phone… he’d just keep staring

· never stops thinking about the texts he gets from you the next morning, reciting your thoughts about what he read to you (more specifically the ones about how he shouldn’t hang up next time)

jihoon！

· he’s always super busy producing or practicing so he doesn’t really have as much time to see you in person as he’d like

· so he often calls you just to hear your voice and see your face for some comfort, although he won’t ever admit that to anyone, especially not you

· he feels a little guilty, but his favourite thing in the world is calling you late at night when you’re sleepy, because he thinks the way you fight to keep your eyes open and prop your head up on your arm is absolutely adorable

· he’d probably be in the middle of reciting some lyrics he wrote to you to ask for your opinion, when he notices you haven’t responded in a while

· when he glances over at the screen and sees your eyes shut, the angle just barely capturing your cheeks smushed against your pillow, he thinks his heart might jump out of im his chest

· will just sit and work while you sleep, occasionally glancing over at you and smiling to himself

· he’d get SO flustered if one of the members walked in (“no way you’re watching them sleep rn… down bad as hell…”VERNON GET OUT RIGHT NOW IM SO SERIOUS…”)

seokmin！

· a lot more quiet on calls than you’d expect

· if he isn’t with you, he usually texts you everything he wants to talk to you about or tell you the second he thinks of it, so when he calls you it’s just because he misses your voice

· most of your calls consist of you sat in comfortable silence, sometimes watching each other do simple activities such as eating or getting ready for bed

· seokmin LOVES watching you do your little skincare routine and brush your teeth, and he always breaks the silence to tell you how cute you are in your matching pjs

· he’ll always ask what you ate, what you did that day, who you hung out with, even if you did already text it to him! he loves the sound of excitement in your voice when you tell him stories

· neither of you can stop smiling at each other, just lying down in your respective beds blushing as you force your eyes to stay open to look at the screens of your phones

· eventually you give in to the temptation and your eyes fall shut, and soon afterwards seokmin can hear your breaths even out, indicating that you’ve fallen asleep

· he will Never hang up first because he absolutely loves sleeping with you on the phone, it makes him feel like you’re there with him </3

mingyu！

· will have you on a call for no less than 5 hours a day every time you’re apart

· he likes to know that you’re there, even if it isn’t in person, so he’ll always call you in the morning and just bring you along for his day

· like that episode of the office where jim and pam have the earpieces in so they can talk to each other all day even while they’re at work, that’s you and mingyu but with facetime

· he’ll even prop you up in the corner while he’s at rehearsal or a photoshoot, scrambling over to you as soon as he gets a break to see what you’re doing

· whenever he catches you looking at the screen, he’ll send you a big goofy smile and a wink, maybe a lil heart pose if he’s feeling extra corny in that moment

· he loves lying down with you at the end of the day, relaying all of the events and getting especially excited when you say you remembered seeing something happen out of the corner of your eye on the call

· takes so much comfort in the fact that you’re paying attention to him and what he’s doing even though you’re busy too

· you always fall asleep together on call after you lay your heads down on your pillows, facing your phones and smiling at each other for a little while longer (yes, he did beg you not to hang up on him)

minghao！

· frequently calls you while he’s on tour, mostly when he’s backstage on break at rehearsal or in his hotel room

· you don’t facetime often, but when you do he’s always fully invested in the call and nothing else

· refuses to focus on anything but what you’re doing while you’re facetiming, he wants you to know that you have his full attention and that he cares about what you have to say

· will not hesitate to let you know how badly he misses being around you in person, he constantly brings it up (“i wish i could’ve just packed you in my suitcase…” “buying me a ticket like a normal person would also work”)

· gets jokingly mad when you say you’re gonna hang up and go to bed, he can’t believe you’re depriving him of a virtual sleepover?

· tucks himself into bed while he watches you tidy up your own before sliding under the covers as well, the big bright smile on his face quite literally rivalling the sun

· always mutes himself when you fall asleep so he doesn’t disturb you, but will risk the flash of a screenshot because you just look so cute

seungkwan！

· your facetime calls always last hours with him, he just has so much to tell you!

· he really loves including you in everything he does, so he spares no detail of his day from the moment he woke up to the moment he clicked on your contact to call you, and wants you to do the exact same thing when he’s done

· his absolute favourite thing in the world is when he gets a laugh out of you, whether it’s from an embarrassing story about himself or one of the members, or his tone of voice, or even a cheesy joke, and it makes him miss you so much more

· always likes doing his nighttime routine with you, and he gets that warm feeling in his chest when you start leaving your hair up and your makeup on so you can wash up together, he’s so touched by the fact that you remember he likes to do this together so you wait for him to call you before you do anything

· you two stay up super late just chatting about anything that comes to your minds, no matter how stupid the idea may be (“who would win in a game of chess. a mind reader or someone who could see the future.” “it’s 3 in the morning and that’s what you’re thinking about. however i do think that-”)

· always tells you he loves you at the end and his cheeks always burn bright red when you say it back, even though he knows you don’t mean it in that way (unless?)

vernon！

· more of a texter than a caller in general, but he’ll never admit that it’s really only because you make his palms sweat and his heart beat much faster than usual when you so much as look in his direction

· picks up a souvenir from each city to bring back for you, and always gives you an update on the collection each time you call him (“and here’s a snow globe from new york… and then a maple leaf keychain from vancouver… and a tshirt from-“)

· loves calling you at nighttime, he can’t get enough of how adorable you look in pjs and messy hair, rubbing at your eyes and yawning as you try to get your words out

· so enamoured with you, you often have to call him multiple times to get him to listen to you because he just zones out staring at his screen with a grin on his face and a light blush on his cheeks

· gets a little sad when he notices that you’re starting to feel sleepy, he wants to talk to you more but he won’t say anything because he also wants you to get your rest

· takes a facetime photo when you finally drift off to sleep and your head falls to the pillow and your cheek squishes up, bonus points if you drool a little bit because yes even that is adorable to him

· his hands are shaking as he ends the call, smiling to himself as he releases a sigh and tries to calm his heartbeat, which proves impossible when he tries to go to bed and all he can think about is you

chan！

· always holds the phone way too close to his face, relishing in the way you laugh when you make fun of him for not just setting his phone down

· whenever he buys anything while he’s on tour, he’s always giving you an in depth haul because he needs to hear your opinion on everything, he values it more than anybody else’s

· giant smile on his face the entire time you’re talking, he can’t help it, his favourite activity is talking to you

· also very emotional about not being with you, but a bit more hesitant to tell you exactly how he feels because he doesn’t want to expose his crush on you and ruin your friendship, often opts for more casual ways of telling you he misses you (“you should’ve been there it was so funny i almost peed my pants” “it was so lame without you” “let’s go together next time!”)

· when you get tired you stop talking as much and you’re just staring at him and it makes him blush and stutter like crazy, he seriously cannot control himself around you

· when you actually fall asleep he’s mentally scolding himself for being creepy, but he can’t help but admire you through the screen, wishing he was there to tuck you in more snugly and move that one piece of hair out of your eyes

· sighs happily and hangs up, giggling to himself when he sees his little reminder notification pop up, his calendar letting him know he’s one day closer to seeing you