#ff:wicked games

☾ author's note: sooooooo hi. i'm back 🙂‍↕️ i'm back and i'm once again warning you that the smut scene is long af. it kind of has to be like this when you have to write polyamorous relationships lol also i wrote this while ovulating sorry

also the smut scene doesn't come until the 10k word mark. i'm sorry. i needed to put in the plot before the long ass sex scene, so be prepared to read some STORY alright don't hate me✌🏻

THIS IS LOOSELY PROOFREAD. i tried editing this at work lol

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

play pretend

Your fingers kept tapping on the screen of your phone impatiently. At this point, it was as though your body was no longer under your control, ruling itself only through pain and pleasure. You hated it. You loved it.

“Stop it,” Mona hissed, leaning over you so she wouldn’t drag the attention of the people sitting around you in the subway. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Sorry,” you replied, resorting to gnawing at your bottom lip. “You know I didn’t want to come.”

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now,” Mona said, but she flashed a devilish smirk at you. “Besides, the girls are beginning to think that you turned into a hermit and now live at the top of a mountain all by yourself.”

“Great. And I’m dying to change their opinions about me,” you rolled your eyes.

“What’s got you so against seeing them? They’re not bad,” Mona said, glancing at your phone sitting on your lap as the screen turned on with a series of flashing notifications.

Your stomach twisted, hands scrambling to get your phone before she could even read the screen.

Have fun, baby

Seriously. Have fun. Text me when you’re done so I can come get you

Love you

It was too late. Mona’s dark eyes went so wide that even the men sitting around you in the car began looking at you and Mona weirdly.

“What the fuck?” Mona whispered sharply. “Why is he texting you?”

You weren’t sure if she got to read through the three bubbles of text popping up at the beginning of your screen. But you knew that she had seen Mingyu’s name marked at the top of each message he sent you.

Mona tried snatching your phone from your hands, giggling mischievously when you succeeded at gripping it tight and away from her. “Look—I’ll explain,” you said, a giggle also escaping you when her fingers poked at your tummy. “Can you stop? They’re looking at us weirdly!” you whined quietly.

Your best friend sent a look around you, glaring at the pair of young boys who were staring at you with weird looks on their faces. Mona blew on her own face, somehow fixing her messy fringe. “Okay, okay,” she said begrudgingly and sat back in her seat.

Once you’d made sure that she wasn’t going to try to get your phone, you opened the chat that you had with Mingyu, your heart fluttering wildly when you got to read his texts. You knew that Mona was peaking over your shoulder, but you typed back, fingers tapping the screen swiftly.

Okay, I’ll try

I love you too

You went back, looking at the list of chats you had currently going on. And right below Mingyu’s chat, Wonwoo’s chat had sat on read for two hours now. His last text reading very dry and very concise:

Have you talked to him?

You were avoiding it. Both replying to Wonwoo’s text and what it meant. Wonwoo wanted you to talk with Mingyu about the crazy proposition he’d made you the last time you saw him.

You let out a shaky exhale and locked your phone once again.

“Okay. Talk,” Mona said as soon as you both stepped out of the car.

“Can it wait? I don’t think I can do this sober, I mean,” you asked, and then laughed at yourself. “It’s a very long story.”

“Well, we have like ten minutes of walking from here to Pam’s house,” she pointed out as you both walked up the stairs to exit the station. “It can’t be that long.”

You huffed and then looked down at your shoes as you tried to regain your breath after climbing all those stairs.

“So are you back with Mingyu?” she asked, and then her tone shifted: “What happened to the other guy? What’s his face? Wonwoo?”

You nodded quietly, pressing your lips together as you tried to look for the right words to say. But the truth was—you had no right words to say because what you were doing wasn’t exactly right.

“I am back with Mingyu. We sort of… slept together again like a week ago,” you said, sneaking a swift look at your best friend, who was now gaping at you in awe. You turned away, face burning with shame. “But I’m also not done with Wonwoo.”

Mona stopped walking, and you only realized two steps past her that she wasn’t following you anymore. You turned back, afraid to encounter judgment on her face, but she was just staring at you, mouth open wide in shock.

“What?” she gasped, and you could tell that she was simply in shock and wasn’t exactly judging you yet. “What do you mean not done? Like, do you guys still see each other, and you’re also sleeping with his best friend?”

You pursed your lips, as though trying to keep this a secret still. “I mean Wonwoo is not out of my life. And I’m dating Mingyu at the same time. Look, we haven’t decided anything yet, and I still need to talk with Mingyu about what I want, but… right now we’re not labeling anything.”

Mona tilted her head to one side, now looking at you with a slight hint of pity. “Oh, you sweet girl. You’re in a situationship with not only one hunk but with two? And they’re best friends?”

Your chest caved in. You had an idea of what your best friend would say about your current situation, but hearing it in real life felt so different. “Look, I know it’s confusing but—”

“Confusing?” she cut in, wiggling her eyebrows as she appeared to be considering it. “Mmm. No, I don’t think it’s confusing. I just said it! Two hunks!” she huffed loudly and then showed you another devilish smirk. “The only confusing thing is how the hell are you all three dealing with this?”

You sighed and then tried to continue walking without paying attention to whether your friend was tagging along. You just needed to keep going somewhere. Once you saw Mona through the corner of your eye, you continued, “I need to talk to Mingyu about it. I’m just not keen on things changing just yet. What if he says no and everything changes?” You shrugged.

“Mmn,” she pursed her lips, mimicking the previous expression you’d made. “Tell you what, we can just enjoy today, and you can make up your mind about it tomorrow. Let’s have fun.”

You pondered over it for half a minute. Mingyu’s text had said exactly that.

Have fun.

Take your mind off things.

“Hey, what is your deal with the girls?” Mona asked curiously, subtly changing the subject.

You shrugged, glad to be far from the Wonwoo-Mingyu topic now. “Nothing. I don’t know. I kind of went off the map when I broke up with Jay. I felt ashamed, you know? I kept going on and on about him and me, and then everything sort of went to ruin.”

“So it’s not them you’re not hesitant to see but rather what they’ll say to you,” she reflected.

“I just don’t want to have to explain things about my life,” you sneaked a meek look at her. “You know, my ex, Mingyu, and now Wonwoo… It’s a lot.”

“You’re right. It is a lot,” she conceded, appearing to be deep in thought. She returned the glance at you, giving you a confident smirk now. “Well, you could always count on me to keep unwanted comments at bay. You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to, and they’ll probably get the hint.”

Before you knew it, you were smiling back at her, all nervousness put on pause for a moment. “I guess you’re right.”

Music could be heard from down the hall as you approached Pam’s door, loud chattering, thumping and laughter could only be distinctive of your friends’, and they were already in the mood for partying.

You loved your friends. You loved Mona.

But you hated nights like this.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was, but ever since you started dating your ex, Jay, your life took a turn and part of you feels like you were never the same. And when Jay left, and you had a life to rebuild, you could no longer connect with them except Mona.

It felt like you were suffocating in inexplicable shame.

However, life was giving you the chance to go back to who you were, even if there were some things in the way that made that quite literally impossible. You were no longer the person who was going to marry Jay. And now, you felt even more different.

“Are you ready for this?”

You turned to see Mona, who was still wearing her happy-go-lucky smirk. “Sorta.”

She huffed. “That’s good enough for me,” she said before giving herself the license to open the door herself.

It had been a while since you set foot in Pam’s apartment. The first thing that hit you was the memory of how much you admired her sense of style and decoration, and that for so long you wished you could build something for yourself that felt like this. The apartment was a mix of cozy and fun vibes; every piece in her living room was a different colour—the loveseat was cobalt blue, the armchair was forest green, and the rug was creamy white. The kitchen was made a mess—it looked crammed, but loved and lived in, reminding you of Pam’s love for baking vanilla cupcakes and cinnamon cookies. Fairy lights were draped along the top edge of the living room window, and several lamps were turned on, creating a dim yet inviting atmosphere in the living room.

“You’re here!” Pam squealed in true happiness, jumping from the floor and flying into your arms.

Pam was a lovely girl you met thanks to Mona. She was beautiful, slender, and her hair was dyed platinum blond, which made her dark eyes pop even more. And when she hugged you, the scent of apples and jasmine made your heart squeeze with a slew of old memories.

“Hey there, Pam,” you replied, wrapping your arms around her.

“We were just about to call you,” Pam said, stepping back to hug Mona as well. She was beaming, as though not believing that you were real, and you were there. Then she stepped back once more and pointed to the other end of the living room. “Niki is here!”

Niki made a stoked expression, waving her hand frantically at you and Mona. “We were just about to spike the fruit punch,” she said, picking herself up from the floor with a grunt. Niki was tall and visibly strong. You were glad to see that Niki hadn’t changed much—still wore her hair in a jet black bob with a perfectly trimmed fringe. She was the kind of girl who would wear high heels to the club no matter what and bark at the boys who would come to your table uninvited.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Niki said, approaching you with a relaxed smirk on her face. She had to bend down slightly to pull you into a long hug. “You’ve been a stranger.”

Your heart squeezed again, but this time you welcomed the feeling. “It’s good to see you, Niki,” you replied.

At the center of the coffee table was a big bowl of popcorn, which you later realized was cheddar cheese popcorn mixed with caramel popcorn. Empty bottles of alcohol were splayed on the floor, and in the corner of the coffee table, Niki was working on mixing a big bowl of fruit punch with a ladle.

“Ooh, what’s that concoction?” you joked as you sat on the floor next to Mona.

“I made fruit punch,” Pam replied. “And Niki is going to mix it with red wine.”

You nodded slowly. “Interesting,” you mumbled, elongating the last syllable meaningfully.

Niki noticed. “Chill. We made a rule,” she said, eyeing Mona.

And Mona chimed in. “What’s said tonight stays in Pam’s apartment,” she stated. “None of us will post anything online about tonight. We won’t drunk text any of our exes. No drunken voice notes, no screenshots, no nothing. If we take photos or videos, they’ll stay in our phone galleries till the end of time.”

“Amen,” Pam said and then let out another squeal, reaching for your hand to squeeze it gently. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said one more time and then moved her hand to her phone to turn the music up.

And suddenly, it felt like old times.

Something in your entire body relaxed the moment you started chatting with your friends. It felt like the mask of the person you were now was coming off, and they could see you beneath it with expert ease. Catching up with them didn’t feel like you were swallowing down a beehive. It felt good—like an old remedy that you were needlessly trying to keep away from your heart.

After some drinking games and a lot of catching up to do, you were starting to feel hazy. Your lips felt heavy, and your cheeks were tingling, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop downing glass after glass of fruit punch. Despite its alarmingly deep red color, it tasted good.

You learned some new stuff about Pam and Niki. Pam had picked up crochet and was still knee deep in a situationship with the same guy and was going onto four years of push and pull with zero commitment on either side. Niki, on the other hand, was very happy, enjoying being single and had reconnected with her old basketball team.

You also learned that it was Niki who had shared the news of Jay’s commitment to Mona, and that Pam also knew about it. But they had your back. More than anything, they didn’t want to overstep on something they both knew was hurtful to you in some way, and knew that Mona would know how to handle it with you.

But now it was your turn to share the past few chapters of your life.

You twirled your glass in your hand, thinking of refilling it to muster the courage to say what you were about to. “Okay,” you sighed deeply. “I’m sort of figuring some stuff out,” you mumbled begrudgingly, heart thumping frantically in your eardrums. “I’m seeing two different guys. At the same time.”

Both Pam and Niki remained silent. But you realized that they were attentive, giving you the room to speak.

And before you lost your nerve, you kept going. “I crossed paths with a high school friend after I moved. Mingyu. He was coming out of a serious relationship where he got cheated on,” you said, realizing that despite the new turn of events, this side of the story still made your chest ache. “We dated for a while. I fell head over heels for him. But he broke up with me one night. And that broke me.”

You avoided looking at your friends now and settled for looking at a tiny bubble of fruit punch sitting at the bottom of your glass.

“I never planned what happened then, but Wonwoo was just there for me. We connected. He made me feel like I wasn’t alone,” you said, heart squeezing painfully at the thought of his last text message sitting unanswered. “The night that Jay announced his commitment, I lost it. And Wonwoo was there, one thing led to the other.”

You breathed in deeply, pushing away the dark thoughts telling you that your friends might judge you for this. But it only took one look at them to know that you could trust them.

“Wonwoo and Mingyu are best friends. They do everything together. And I didn’t sleep with Wonwoo out of revenge, no. I genuinely like him. I continued sleeping with him, even starting to feel something deeper,” your gaze swam to the ceiling, the fairy lights looked even brighter now. “Mingyu and I ended back up together recently, but I still… have feelings for Wonwoo.”

You could see confusion finally make it to the room, and you could feel it. Pam’s mouth dropped open just slightly, a question forming in her brain right as Niki’s frown seemed to deepen.

You sighed, the sound denoting your frustration. “I love them both, alright? And they both know. And Wonwoo, he actually suggested… that we could be all three of us together.”

Mona drank deeply from her cup to hide the smirk of excitement, seeing both Pam and Niki’s reactions.

Pam was the first one to blink. “So like a throuple?”

You nodded, cheeks burning hot. “Yeah. Wonwoo asked. I told him I would talk to Mingyu… but I haven’t the guts to do it,” you rubbed the pad of your thumb over the lipstick stain on your glass. You bent over and reached for the ladle, finally deciding to pour another glass for yourself.

“But will you do it?” Pam asked, her eyes wide in a mixture of worry and amazement.

“I don’t know,” you replied with drunken honesty. “I don’t know what to tell him, you know?”

Pam replied with a half-shrug. “Yeah, it’s not like I can tell you something from my expertise,” she huffed.

“Gotta say,” Niki started, chewing on a fistful of popcorn. “You have my respect, buttercup.”

Your cheeks burned even more, so you opted for drinking from your glass deeply.

“Do you feel safe with both of them?” Pam asked, her tone tiny and almost dreamy. “Who do you love more?”

The last question was like a jab to your gut. “Yes. I feel safe with both of them. Completely,” you replied at once. “I don’t think I love them both equally, but I also don’t think I love one of them more than the other. It’s weird.”

Mona leaned to your side, bumping her shoulder with yours. “They’re both fucking hot. I would choose them both as well.”

Niki gaped. “Really?” she huffed a dry laugh. “Seeing is believing.”

Pam placed a hand over Niki’s knee. “Wait—million dollar question. What do you want? Like, ideally, where do you see this going?”

You froze for a second. “I don’t know,” you replied sincerely. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. But I would also love to be able to have them both in the same room and talk about what we all want. But I need to talk to Mingyu first. And then with Wonwoo.”

“And then all of you three together,” Mona added.

“If my plan works,” you nodded, downing the last contents of your fruit punch and pouring another right after. “But even then, I don’t know how to be part of a throuple,” you said with a sad laugh. 

“Set your boundaries,” Niki said with a shrug. “Who sleeps where. Who gets what nights, maybe? Make a group chat, so no one feels bad because you decided to send a good morning text to someone first.”

You let out a short laugh, but considered the idea to be not too crazy. “I was so scared to tell you.”

Mona rested her head on your shoulder. “See? I told you that you were being dramatic.”

“No, you didn’t,” you replied, trying to get her off your shoulder.

Mona giggled. “Still, you were being dramatic either way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up,” you replied with a blissful smile.

But deep inside, the thought of Wonwoo’s text message sat without a reply from you. Have you talked to Mingyu? It was a simple question with no simple answer or solution. Your heart stuttered again, the sharp pain robbing you of air. You weren’t talking to Wonwoo because you lacked a true answer for him.

And now, you were drunk and scared because all you could think about was both Mingyu and Wonwoo.

“I gotta pee,” you sighed, your breath hot and heavy with the taste of wine and fruit.

Once you were in the bathroom—which was a crammed space of walls painted in true red, black and white checkered tiles and pink accents. The heart-shaped mirror in front of you showed your flushed cheeks, the faded lipstick on your lips, the smudged black mascara below your lower lashes and the unmistakenly drunken gaze.

You pulled out your phone and opened up the chat sitting at the top of your list. You didn’t even think, just sent:

Hi. Can you come get me?

You blinked your tears away, trying to keep yourself in control before coming out of the bathroom. But it was hard to keep away from the fact that you were drunk and getting emotional over the fact that you hadn’t dared to come up with a reply for Wonwoo.

Was it because you were afraid to touch on the subject with Mingyu? Or was it because you were with Mingyu again while still loving Wonwoo?

The moment Mona saw you, she knew that there was something wrong. “You okay?” she mumbled.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Mingyu is taking me home,” you said and then added with a tone that landed weirdly: “He’s actually downstairs already.”

“Want me to come downstairs with you?” Mona asked, knowing already that you were not entirely okay.

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Really. I’ll text you as soon as I get there, I promise.”

You said goodbye to your friends and disappeared through the door right after, coming downstairs with your heart pounding loudly inside your chest. Your phone vibrated in the back pocket of your jeans as you crossed the front door of the building, cold air hitting your cheeks as you hissed at the change.

On my way. Hang tight baby

You saw Mingyu’s reply, stared at it for a long second before exiting the text messaging app. And then, with trembling fingers, you pressed the call button.

Wonwoo’s phone rang only once.

“Hey,” he answered. And despite it being just one utterance, his tone was gentle.

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you mumbled.

“I was just thinking about you,” he said, but it was a confession wrapped in worry.

“Yeah…” you sighed, then took too long to add: “I have also been… thinking about you,” you admitted through the deep feeling of nervousness coiling around your throat. You thought about telling him that you were sorry for not replying to his text messages.

And Wonwoo must’ve noticed it right away—your change in tone, the hesitation to get the words out. “Baby? You okay?” he asked.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just drunk,” you replied, your tone betraying you immediately. The tears had built up already, making your voice sound quiet and constipated.

There was a pause. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to talk?” he asked, his tone immediately switching to a lower one.

“No, no. There’s no need to worry, really,” you said through a hiccup. You lost focus, gaze falling to the pavement. “I… I just needed to hear your voice.”

Another pause, this time longer. “I miss you too,” he admitted. And even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture him perfectly—holding the phone to the side of his face, his gaze lost somewhere, tilting his head down so no one saw the emotions painted in his face.

You sobbed quietly, even though you weren’t really crying yet. “I’m sorry for being absent. I’ve been meaning to reply to your texts… but the truth is I haven’t talked with Mingyu,” you confessed, driving that pain into your heart even further.

“I know,” he replied. “And it’s okay, baby. It’s no easy thing. You take your time, and we’ll figure things out as they come along, alright?”

The sound of his voice was so soothing that you felt dumb for pushing him away. Wonwoo had been nothing but understanding with you—and that was probably the reason why you felt like hiding. You were ashamed.

Your lower lip quivered. “Alright,” you replied.

“Listen, I’m going to Tokyo for a mixology course… I was wondering if we could talk before I leave?” he asked.

Your chest caved at the thought of seeing him again. But you nodded, knowing he wouldn’t see it. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “When are you leaving?”

“I leave tomorrow and will spend a couple of days there,” he said, letting out a sigh. “I actually wanted to ask earlier, but I didn’t want to pressure you… Anyway, I assume that Mingyu’s coming to get you.”

It was then that you wondered if these past few nights, Wonwoo had known about Mingyu’s whereabouts. Your heart dropped at the thought of Wonwoo realizing that Mingyu’s absence in their shared apartment was because he was sleeping in your bed.

“Yeah, he is,” you mumbled. Then you thought about the question that Pam had asked you—about where you saw this thing going. “I’ll… text you when I get home?”

You heard a sigh, and you knew that Wonwoo was smiling. “I’d appreciate that, baby.”

Your heart squeezed at the sight of Wonwoo’s battered Hyundai rolling down the street and getting closer to the point where you were waiting. “I gotta go.”

“Okay. I uh… I’ll see you tomorrow,” a pause, a slow intake of breath and then with a softer tone: “Take care, yeah?”

You smiled instantly. “Yeah, you too Wonwoo,” you replied, warmth filling your chest, knowing what those words meant in reality.

But now, it was time to face another part of your reality.

Mingyu stepped out of the car, closing its door behind him and made his way towards you. And God, he was perfect. As he approached, you soaked your gaze in his perfection—he was dressed in a simple grey ribbed knit top, dark blue jeans and a backwards cap.

You weren’t sure what you felt then, because when you laid eyes on him as he walked towards you, the feelings that invaded you were definitely something you had never had before. Just one minute ago, you were practically saying to one man that you loved him, and the next, you were nearly going insane for a different man.

And even though it had been only a few hours since you saw him last, you realized that you’d missed his face. The gentle happiness he radiated everywhere he went.

“Hey, Baby,” Mingyu said, and on his face, he was wearing a charming smile. And before you could even process what to say, he brought you in for a bear hug. 

A smile formed on your face as soon as your face was buried on his chest. You felt his warmth and could smell the citrus scent of his perfume. “Hi, Gyu,” you replied, heart beating frantically. 

It was such a blessing to be able to have Mingyu’s arms around you again. To be his again. 

He pulled back when he heard your voice. “You okay?” he asked, using his big hands to cup your head.

You felt small under his gaze, resorting to hiding your face away, but it was futile—he was holding you firmly. “Yeah, I’m just drunk and emotional,” you slurred and then added, “It had been a while since I saw my friends.”

Mingyu smiled, as though finding you cute. “You can tell me all about it on the way home,” he said, moving to get the door of the car for you.

You let out a long exhale before getting in Wonwoo’s car. It wasn’t the first time you saw this car, but it was the first time you rode on the passenger seat. The car was clean on both the outside and inside, but despite that, it smelled old and dusty with a faint whiff of men’s deodorant.

But when Mingyu took the driver’s seat, the space shrank immediately. “So,” he started, “before you tell me anything else, I gotta ask—did you have fun?” he asked pointedly, trying hard to keep his expression serious but failing in the end with a tiny smile.

Your insides twisted in adoration. “Yeah, I did,” you replied, your tone honeyed almost instantly. You turned the passenger seat to face him as he started the engine.

“What did you drink?” he asked curiously.

“Um—fruit punch with red wine,” you said, huffing as Mingyu’s face fell at the last two words you uttered.

Mingyu nodded slowly. “I’ll keep my comments to myself,” he said, and then laughed. “Was it good at least?”

You chuckled. “Honestly, it was so much better than the things you serve at the bar,” you joked.

Mingyu’s mouth dropped in faux pain. “What do you know? You only have soda when you come to the bar.”

“Well, that might be a sign to treat me to a good drink,” you said, fully smiling now.

“I will, baby,” he said, and then he moved on to his next question. “So, were you able to catch up with your friends?”

You nodded. “I was nervous to see them at first, but they made me feel better.”

“Nervous? Why?” he asked.

“It had been a while since I last saw them, and… we had a lot to catch up with. I was nervous that with everything I have going on in my life, they would see me differently,” you replied, trying to skirt around the topic but remaining honest with him at the same time.

“Ah, I see,” he nodded slowly. And then you saw that happiness simmer and then evaporate in three seconds—all that remained was a very impassive expression on his face.

You could see the gears of his brain turning, almost. Your heart was beating frantically in your chest as you quietly watched him drive. Mingyu was an excellent driver, and you were just about to learn that as he merged into the highway, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his lap.

Mingyu had started to chew on his bottom lip, eyes glued to the seemingly endless road ahead. You wondered what was going on in his brain, and even considered for a split second to ask him to tell you.

But then, he transferred his hand to your lap, resting it palm up. Your heart almost leaped, but you willed it to calm down as you slipped your hand on his, linking your fingers with his.

“And how was it?” he asked. His tone had changed, he sounded more serious now, careful. He glanced at you briefly. “Did they… treat you differently?”

Your gaze shifted, landing on the subtle change of Mingyu’s grip on the wheel. “They were very supportive,” you mumbled shyly, looking out the window.

When the reply took more than thirty seconds to come back, you turned to him again. He lifted your hand in his and brought it to his lips, brushing your knuckles lovingly. “I’m glad, baby. I’m also glad you had fun.”

You watched him as he kissed the back of your hand, gaze set on the road in front of him. And feeling his lips on you sent a warm, fuzzy feeling down your stomach. You admired how he steered the wheel with one hand, looking relaxed while driving home.

Then, and quite aloofly, Mingyu nipped at the thin skin of your knuckles with his lips, making your blood sizzle in response. And perhaps you were too drunk to understand your feelings—because all you wanted was to climb on top of him. You ached to get to your apartment already and have him all by yourself.

A guilty thought flashed across your mind, saying—you need to talk to him. It was quick, but pressing and alarming. It shot a tight feeling straight to your stomach, pushing you to squeeze his hand instinctively.

“I’m hungry,” you blurted, mouth moving on its own.

Mingyu glanced your way, a small smile painting his beautiful lips. “What are you in the mood for?”

You giggled before you could say: “You,” you said and then, “But if the menu’s restricted tonight, I’ll settle for a burger.”

Mingyu’s smile grew with a sigh. He looked charming, dreamy. “Why not both?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged as he gently placed his hand and yours back on your lap. “You might be tired from work, and the gym… And from last night.”

“Last night?” he made a frown, pretending not to know what you were referring to. “What did I do last night?” Then he dropped his mouth open. “Ah, that’s right! You got the brilliantidea of showing me this obnoxiously long board game, and we didn’t go to bed until sunrise.”

You let out a dry cackle, shifting on the seat to reach his face with your hands and place a smacking kiss on his cheek. “Like you didn’t love that stupid board game,” you said, voice dropping to a purr.

The car slowed down, and you realized that you had come to a red light. Mingyu cupped the back of your head with his hands, dragging your face back to his and planted a kiss on your lips. “I loved hearing you ramble about it,” he mumbled, his gaze shifting to your eyes and then back to your lips. He leaned slowly to give you another feathery kiss on your bottom lip. “So?”

You sat back on the passenger seat, glancing at the console. “I don’t know,” you said with a sad pout.

“Well, you have about ten seconds to decide because once we pass this turn, we’ll only have the Thai food place and the convenience store as our options,” he joked, and then added with a light giggle: “That’s not true, shorty. We could always turn back. We could go for a drive-thru run, if you’d like.”

“Oh! That sounds perfect,” you agreed. “I’d kill for a cone.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes slightly, sending you a quick look. “A cone?” he raised his eyebrows. “Like an ice cream cone?”

“Without the ice cream,” you nodded.

Mingyu huffed. “Alright. Let’s get you your cone,” he said, swiftly taking the turn, still gripping the wheel with one hand.

The car pulled right beside the drive-thru menu. Mingyu rolled down the window, letting in the cool breeze of the night into the car right as you unbuckled the seatbelt and crawled over him to reach the window.

“Really?” he clicked his tongue, laughing silently.

You ignored him. “Hi. I’d like to order two double cheeseburgers, a strawberry shake—”

“Two shakes,” Mingyu interrupted, taking the advantage that you were all over him to place his hand on your lower back, letting it roam down to your butt as you made your order.

You giggled in sheer ecstasy, the sound merry and slurry. “Two strawberry shakes, two orders of large fries—”

“Ten-piece nuggets,” Mingyu mumbled again.

“Ten-piece nuggets,” you repeated. “And a plain cone, please.”

You sat back as he drove to the window and quickly reached for his phone to pay.

“I’ll get it!” you said, scrambling to get your card to pay first.

But Mingyu placed a hand on your shoulder, easily stopping you from moving an inch towards the window.

“Thanks,” you mumbled shyly once Mingyu paid for the food and received the comically large bag of food and handed you the milkshake and placed his own on the cupholder.

“I take pleasure in feeding you,” he said, eyeing the paper bag sitting on your lap. “Well? Dig in.”

“But, here? Inside the car?” you asked curiously.

Mingyu frowned a little. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I thought—never mind.”

You dug your hands in the bag, getting your burger first while Mingyu drove in search of a spot to park. After driving for a considerable time, he finally decided to go straight to your building instead.

You were three bites into your burger, so you just handed him his burger. “Might as well finish up here,” you said, getting a large bite from your burger. “Thank you for this. And for letting me eat in the car.”

Mingyu giggled, sighing as he stuffed his mouth full of cheeseburger. “Don’t worry about it,” he said as he munched for a couple of times and then gulped. “This car has seen it all, really. And it survived Wonwoo and me in our college days. So, a bit of salt and some wayward fries won’t do anything.”

The mention of Wonwoo’s name being thrown by Mingyu made your tummy clench painfully, and the fact that Mingyu had said it so casually scrambled your brains. You had such a hard time even thinking about Wonwoo that, for a split second you envied Mingyu for being so nonchalant about it.

You chewed quietly and then took a large sip from your strawberry shake. But you just couldn’t go back to who you were two seconds before. Your mind was racing, heart thumping loudly in your chest. Had your reaction been evident?

Mingyu finished his burger in three bites, or that’s what it seemed like to you. Or maybe it was that the sound of Wonwoo’s name had split your mind in two, and that’s why you were taking so long to finish your food.

You crumpled the burger wrapping into a ball and dug your hand into the bag to get the ice cream cone. You took a bite off the pointed tip first, sighing deeply and tiredly at finally getting your cravings satisfied.

“Good?” Mingyu mumbled, and you realized that his gaze was trained on your face.

“Like heaven,” you replied, taking three large gulps from your shake.

You finished your food some moments after Mingyu did. And coming upstairs to your apartment didn’t feel awkward, even if you were both casually talking, like the mention of Wonwoo’s name alone had created a ghost that you were now aware of and dragging along.

You hated the feeling. You tried to pretend like you had just merely lost half of your battery in less than ten minutes, and not like your heart wasn’t aching for a person who wasn’t there.

In the couple of weeks that had gone by since you and Mingyu got back together, your life had suffered dramatic changes. For example, Mingyu had been coming to your apartment nearly every day or every night, however, his schedule would let him. He’d spend the night at yours if the occasion would rise—but he made sure that every day, at least once, he would let you know that he was still in.

Sometimes, it felt to you that nothing had happened—like Mingyu wasn’t gone and he never broke your heart, like the night at the basketball court where you sat on the bleachers crying your heart out never existed. Mingyu came back into your life with the full intention of loving you, of mending the girl who was so eager, so wanting to love and be loved. And he would show that every day. So much that it felt like you were in a serious—committed—relationship.

Another example was that, and you weren’t sure as to how aware Mingyu was of this, he was starting to leave some of his stuff in your apartment. First, he started with a hoodie, then he left a cap, sunglasses, and a spare phone charger…

A toothbrush.

It hadn’t meant anything, not at first. One night, he stayed at yours, and you both went for a quick grocery store run, and he decided to buy a toothbrush.

And now, every single time you saw it, your tummy clenched for some reason.

This time was no different. You brushed your teeth, changed into your pjs and removed your makeup, now feeling fully sober. And when you came out of the bathroom, you knew that your play pretend hadn’t been very convincing at all.

Mingyu was standing before the round dining table, hands gripping the back of a chair as though he needed somewhere to hold onto. He was crestfallen, as though avoiding looking your way because he didn’t want you to see the emotions shown on his face.

“Hey,” you mumbled, approaching him cautiously.

Mingyu lifted his head, his gaze softening upon seeing you. “Hey, Baby,” he replied, his tone gentle. “Listen—”

“Wait,” you said, placing your hand on his shoulder as he stepped closer to face you completely. “I want to say something first.”

Mingyu’s mouth parted slightly, analyzing your face with his gaze before nodding at you.

You breathed in, wondering if there was someone on earth who would know how to navigate this subject with less anxiety than you. You wondered if there was a better way to open this conversation.

But you finally let out a breath, saying: “I called Wonwoo.”

Mingyu didn’t even flinch. “When?”

Your heart twisted, eyes watering instantly in fear of what Mingyu’s reaction would be. “Outside of Pam’s building. While I was waiting for you,” you said, your tone shaky and burdened with guilt.  

Mingyu’s expression became hard to read. You weren’t sure whether he kept looking at your face to search for any more signs of hurt or sadness, or if he’d become just a shell of a person, hiding his feelings from you.

“I just… I needed to hear his voice,” you confessed, lowering your face when you felt like you were about to crumble under his scrutinous gaze. “I didn’t mean to—I miss him, and it just happened.”

You could feel your heart pumping, banging against your chest as you waited for an answer.

“Okay,” Mingyu said calmly, and lifted his eyebrows ever so slightly, signaling you to carry on.

You breathed in, armoring yourself with enough courage to do it. “I need to tell you something else,” you said, your voice becoming thinner: “And I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

Mingyu remained still, except for his eyes, which flitted across your face. “Okay.”

Your whole body trembled with something you couldn’t explain. You wanted to slow down and think. You wanted to get this done quickly. Your mind and heart were torn, fighting and clashing against each other.

“I want him too,” you said, and you wished you had enough strength to raise your voice any higher.

But something in the way you said it felt so real. It wasn’t an explosive confession. It felt soft, like letting your heart breathe for the first time in days.

You swallowed hard. “I want both of you,” you said, pulse picking up the pace right back when Mingyu wouldn’t respond, his expression remaining impassive. “I don’t know what I was thinking—I tried to sort it out quietly, but I just can’t. I feel guilty for calling him. So I’m telling you now.”

Mingyu held your gaze for one long moment. His eyes were dark, but there was a glint in them that caught your attention. It was as if he could see you struggling with your emotions, and his heart softened to the extent that his eyes began to show it. It felt as though he saw you suffocating from love and couldn’t help but try to save you from the pain once more.

But he didn’t look hurt. Not like you feared. He was just still.

“I know,” he said.

“You… know… what?” you asked dejectedly.

He nodded. “I saw your face when I said his name,” he mumbled, his tone quiet and raw. His gaze shifted, and then you saw it—the guilt he tried to hide.

“You didn’t say anything.”

Mingyu shrugged. “What could I say?” he asked, sullenly.

You paused. The guilt you’d seen on his face seduced you into thinking that maybe he wasn’t hurt like you thought he would. But instead, he would be pissed. You remembered the hurt you felt when you saw Gigi’s name displayed on Mingyu’s phone. But not only hurt—the jealousy.

Your tummy clenched. “Mingyu—”

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, his tone flat and his body stiff.

“I don’t want to hide anything from you,” you said, and at that, your tears finally spilled. You sobbed, but this time your chest did so tiredly. And then you wondered when the time would come that you would stop tearing up for this.

And there it was again—Mingyu’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to. You can tell me anything,” he mumbled, his tone sweetened.

Your eyebrows drew together. “You’re not angry?”

He shook his head. “I’m not angry,” he reassured, and then, with the lightest of frowns, he reconsidered: “I’m not thrilled either. I can’t say that it doesn’t sting.”

“I’m sorry. And I know it’s a lot,” you said with a sob. “I know that it’s c-complicated, and if you say that you’re not okay with it, then I’ll take it,” you mumbled, stuttering through your tears. “I just needed to tell you.”

He looked at you. His gaze was steady, if a little worried. “I don’t want to control what you feel,” he told you, his tone had gone sweet. “I can’t pretend I don’t see it, either.”

You sobbed loudly, as if your heart had shattered, and the sound that escaped your lips echoed that pain. Your tears were hot, streaming down your cheeks. You averted your gaze from his face, afraid you wouldn’t be able to continue the conversation any longer.

But Mingyu grabbed your face, his hands cupping your cheeks fully and urging you to look at him again. “If you care about him… If you need him in your life, I get it.”

You sniffled. “I do.”

He appeared to weaken at the sound of your voice. “I’m not ready to say yes to the idea of us three,” he said.

“Okay,” you said quietly, holding back a sob.

Mingyu exhaled through his nose, as though letting go of a tension he had been trying to push down for days. “But I’m not asking you to stop seeing him either,” he said.

Your eyebrows pinched again. “You’re not?” you asked. “Then—”

He blinked slowly at you, cutting you off before you started to lose yourself in questions. “I just want to ask you one thing—no more hiding. If you talk to him or see him, just tell me. If he texts you, don’t hide your phone, okay?”

Your stomach flipped. How many times did Wonwoo text you when Mingyu was around?

“Okay,” you whispered. “So what are you saying?”

“I still want to figure things out. With you,” he mumbled quietly, his hands shifting slightly, but he kept holding your face.

You nodded. “Okay,” you repeated.

“Just give me time, okay?” His mouth curved into a small smile, but something in his eyes dimmed. “I’m not saying no. I’m just…”

You nodded. “I understand. I know it’s a lot.”

He gave the tiniest nod.

Your heart was beating faster now, but not out of fear. “Okay,” you whispered, swallowed hard and then: “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he replied, still treating you with tenderness. “This is a mess, I know. But I don’t want you thinking you need to lie to protect me. If what you feel for him is real, then there’s no need to hide it.”

You blinked at him quite dumbly.

“What I mean to say is,” he continued, noticing the look in your eyes. “I want to know everything, okay? Even if it hurts.”

You were briefly thrown back to the moment when Mingyu told you about Gigi. About how she was unfaithful to him with her boss—how she cheated for weeks and hid everything from Mingyu. And even afterwards, Mingyu continued to hide this infidelity of hers out of shame and didn’t tell anyone, not even Wonwoo. And that also eventually led to even more chaotic decisions.

You nodded, slowly this time. “Okay,” you mouthed. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just didn’t know how to say it. I was afraid.”

Mingyu blinked slowly at you. “I know. But we’ve gone through this before. Haven’t we, baby? We have to talk about the difficult things if we both want this to be serious, right?”

Your heart squeezed. “Right,” you nodded again. “And I want that too.”

At that, he appeared to relax. “I know,” he told you softly. He looked at your bottom lip as he traced a soft line with the pad of his thumb.

You lowered your gaze to his hands still holding your face, reaching up and lacing your fingers around his wrists. “I’m seeing him tomorrow,” you told him, cautious with every word. “Before he leaves.

Mingyu nodded, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Okay.”

And then it was your turn to feel like you could breathe again. You leaned forward, Mingyu closing the space between you at the same time until your forehead touched his. Your eyelids fell closed, feeling the weight of your choices finally come crashing down on you.

But you were certain of one thing— “I love you,” you whispered.

Mingyu didn’t skip a beat. “I love you,” he replied.

The next morning, you woke up with Mingyu’s arm perched over your waist, his breath warm and steady against the back of your neck—almost like he’d fallen asleep with his nose buried in your hair.

You loved falling asleep, nuzzling in his warmth and waking up the same. And for a while, you felt like you could just spend forever there, listening to his gentle breathing, feeling him shift around you.

With just one glance around your studio apartment, you knew that it was time to rise. The sun was slipping through the small partings of the curtains, letting you infer that if you stayed longer in his embrace, you’d be late.

Your tummy clenched as you turned over slightly to see Mingyu still deep in his sleep. God, he was a dream. Even completely asleep, he didn’t fail to make your heart skip a beat. Like you, he’d fallen asleep naked, tangled in the bedsheets and wrapped in warmth and love.

This was the hardest part. His arm was heavy, and not only that, but he also appeared to put more weight into his embrace as you tried to break yourself free from it without waking him up. He mumbled something in his sleep, a half-utterance that didn’t really make sense.

You slipped free from the bedsheets and Mingyu’s arms successfully after some struggle. But once you got up, you winced at the cold you felt, skin prickling at the same time. You scrambled to get the first items of clothing you could find and sneaked inside the bathroom to get dressed.

You hurried through it, feeling like the quicker you got out of the apartment unnoticed, the better. You splashed cold water on your face, washed your mouth and got dressed.

Mingyu was stirring awake when you crossed your bedroom in search of your phone. He took a breath in, filling his lungs and getting himself to full lucidity. He moved the arm that was previously wrapped around your waist, throwing the bedcovers around him slightly and displaying half of his naked body.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard him.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his tone raspy and somehow tiny. His hair was slightly longer now, and that allowed it to become messy in the mornings. But he looked downright irresistible.

You melted instantly. “Hey, baby,” you replied.

His eyes quickly scanned you from head to toe, his mouth parting as his brow furrowed in curiosity.

“I won’t be long,” you said.

Mingyu blinked lazily. “Okay,” he replied groggily.

Your heart clenched, feeling like you were subjecting him to something unfair.

The feeling might’ve translated to the features of your face, because he put in quickly: “It’s okay, baby. Go,” he said.

At that, you didn’t push for more. Just lowered your gaze and quietly made your way to the door, stepping out of the building and into the morning air.

Wonwoo was already waiting outside your building. And this was the first time that you saw each other since you got back with Mingyu. Your pulse quickened as you found him. Wonwoo looked like a dream—dressed in his usual dark clothes, he wore black pants, a black sweater and a brown leather jacket.

An elegant duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, which he grabbed by its strap with one hand and lowered it to his side as you approached him. It was like he already knew that you were running to hug him, because he dropped the bag on the floor. Uncaring about it, and welcoming towards you.

He wrapped his arms around you before you could even reach him. Hugging him—feeling him close—was so shocking to you that you were rendered speechless. The smell of his cologne wrapped around your senses, and you breathed him in wholly.

“Hi, baby,” Wonwoo spoke softly into your ear.

You swallowed hard, swept over by all kinds of emotions. Just a moment ago, you were sleeping with Mingyu, and now…

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you replied, your tone shaky.

He stepped back, glancing down the street. “I only have a couple of minutes before the car gets here,” he said.

Your heart squeezed, but you nodded. “Okay,” you said, not hiding the disappointment you felt.

But he didn’t let that stop him. “I’m glad you agreed to see me,” he told you. “Even for a couple of minutes.”

You paused. You wanted to have more than just a couple of minutes with him. You needed to talk to him about the conversation you had with Mingyu last night.

Wonwoo read the features of your face intently. “Something happened?” he asked, lowering his tone.

“No—I mean, yes. But…” you said faintly.

“We talk when I get back?” he asked knowingly, raising his eyebrows slightly over the black frame of his glasses.

You nodded.

His gaze flitted to the window that belonged to your apartment. “Is he…”

“Yeah,” you replied shortly, blinking away the slight punch to the gut that you felt. “He knows I’m here. With you.”

He locked eyes with you again instantly. “Oh,” he breathed. “Then we do need to talk.”

An awkward moment followed. It was full of hesitation—while you had a lot to tell him, Wonwoo was trying to assess the situation, to narrow down why you were shaky, and visibly out of place, distraught.

Wonwoo’s lips parted softly, like he was afraid for a split second. He wanted to ask, you knew it. He wanted to know if you’ve had that conversation with Mingyu, he wanted to know the outcome of it.

He wanted to know if he was already out of the game.

But then—a car honked loudly, disrupting the morning peacefulness. Wonwoo looked back, his shoulders going slack in a quiet defeat.

Before you could even think, you stepped into his space, close and abruptly. You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him with surprising ease. But that was because Wonwoo didn’t even hesitate, letting you draw him into a kiss.

And when your lips met his, you knew that you were indeed unfair. But there Wonwoo was, grabbing your face in his hands tenderly, pushing his lips against yours once, twice, giving you soft, loving pecks before kissing you fully. His lips locked with yours like it was easy as breathing—the kiss was warm, soft, full of all of the words he was aching to say but couldn’t.

You wanted to say those words too—but you knew it wasn’t the time to say them.

He pulled back, opening his eyes slowly, breath trembling just a little. And then, his eyes darted to your apartment window, his body tensing and jaw setting tightly. Like the entire world had paused for him.

You pulled back, blinking at him. “What?”

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away. He looked like he was just recovering from kissing you again for the first time in weeks and now…

He glanced once more to a point straight above your head, then looked back at your face. The subtle eye movement made your heart drop to your stomach.

“Wonwoo?” you prompted.

He gave you the faintest smile, his hands cupping your face held you slightly tighter. “Don’t turn around,” he instructed you, his voice low.

Your heart stopped beating. “What?” You mumbled, grabbing his wrists and pulling your face up from his hands, turning around.

Mingyu’s figure was already disappearing back into your apartment, leaving nothing but a fleeting shadow.

“Shit,” you whispered. Shutting your eyes tightly. “He saw, didn’t he?”

Wonwoo nodded. “I think so,” he replied, sighing tiredly. He stepped back, grabbed his duffel bag from the floor, and then he said. “Will you be okay?”

You nodded. “Yes, Wonwoo. I will.”

His gaze flitted on your face, reading you swiftly. “I’ll call you when I land.”

You sighed, trying to ground yourself. “Bye, Wonwoo,” you said. “Take care.” 

He pressed his lips into a smile that appeared to be gentle, but you knew that he was trying to show you he wasn’t worried. He gave you a nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

And then you watched him walk off. You stood on the sidewalk as he got into the cab, and it rode away. And after gathering your senses, you turned toward the door, body tight and mind clouded with doubts, thoughts of what you were coming back to.

You opened the door and slipped inside your apartment slowly. Everything was still, quiet. Your heart stuttered when you instantly thought that Mingyu might’ve left.

But then, your eyes fell on him.

Mingyu stood in the kitchen, his back turned, stirring something in a bowl. His shoulders were relaxed, and he was crestfallen. He was half-dressed now, not bothering to put on a t-shirt.

He looked over his shoulder when he heard the door shut. “Hey,” he said, as though nothing had happened. “Want breakfast? I’m making pancakes.”

You remained standing after the door. “Sure,” you replied, tone off.

He nodded, turning on the stove. There was no hesitation in his movements, he moved smoothly and just like any other morning.

You hesitated. “Want coffee?”

Mingyu nodded.

Anxiety gripped you wholly. You started to fill the coffee brewer with water, eyeing him as he dutifully whisked the pancake mix in a bowl.

You exhaled, the sound coming out of you shortly, but sharply. “You saw us,” you said finally.

Mingyu didn’t look up, opting to nod quietly.

You opened your mouth to utter an apology. Your heart demanded you to say something, anything to ease the pulsing nervousness tightening your chest.

But no words came out. The silence was filled with insecurity. But you continued sending him cautious glances, watching for his reaction, for the emotions showing on his face.

“I was just curious,” he finally said, his tone low and raw. He gnawed his bottom lip briefly. “I knew what I was going to see. I just wanted to know how it would feel.”

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter tightly. “And?” you croaked, shaking with worry.

He lifted his head now, locking eyes with you. “I don’t know,” he replied quietly, and you could tell that he was being honest. “I don’t know how I felt. I know it stung, but at the same time I was… intrigued?”

You watched him for a second longer, feeling your brow furrowing.

Mingyu let out a breath, smirking. “Yeah, like I said. I don’t know how to feel,” he shrugged. Then he took a pause, like reforming his opinion. “It’s confusing. But I wanted to see it. I wanted to know if I could handle it.”

You waited for him to let you know his deliberation.

“I think I can,” he said and then offered you a solemn look, his eyebrows pinching slightly. “Like I said, I’m not sure.”

You let out a breath, letting go of the tension in your body as well.

After having breakfast, Mingyu had to leave for work at the bar, but only after letting you know that he would see you later. He kissed you goodbye and reminded you that he loved you, and then left without making it harder for you to let him go.

And things felt… different.

There was a time when you were terribly afraid to be alone. You would find yourself in the space that you had created for yourself and feeling like you didn’t belong. It felt like you were walking on a floor that was about to crack under your feet, as the walls whispered in your ear that you needed to go out and find your place elsewhere.

You had been so aching to love and be loved that when you were left alone, you didn’t recognize yourself.

Now… it was as though the space was letting you know that this change would take a while to get used to. You were now trying to understand how everyone fit in the picture… even yourself.

The first day Wonwoo was on his trip to Tokyo, you kept looking at your phone. He had checked in when he boarded the plane and when he landed. And he also asked a few questions about the situation with Mingyu and the kiss he saw from the window. You assured that everything was fine, and he didn’t pry for more information—leading you to think that he was reserving his questions for when he saw you next time.

The following day, Mingyu had the day off. And he was taking a liking to using his day off to spend it with you, or so you were beginning to understand. It was the third time in a row that he asked you on a date on his day off, and this day was no different. Except for the past two days off he had, he’d let you decide what you wanted to do—going to the movies, an arcade, restaurant.

Mingyu was sitting on the sofa in your studio apartment. You were sitting at the opposite end of him, perching your feet on his lap.

“Baby?”

“Mmn?” you looked up.

Mingyu giggled sweetly. “You haven’t decided what you want to do today.”

“Oh,” you smiled shyly. You had been distracted by your phone briefly. You gave yourself a shake. “You decide tonight,” you told him.

He pouted cutely, thinking of his choice as he resorted to grab your feet on your lap, squeezing them over your fuzzy socks. “We could just chill,” he offered, rubbing your feet with his warm hands. “Do you feel like going to the gym tonight?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Are you asking me on a date or to suffer?” you joked.

Mingyu smiled. “Why not both?” he said.

You replied by smiling at him, feeling your phone buzz in your hands again. The source of your initial distraction.

It was Wonwoo. He had texted only to check in with you. A— how’s your day? Kind of text. It was simple. It meant nothing more. But to you, and while Mingyu was on the couch with you, it was more than just a simple text.

So you replied, typing swiftly and with no second thought:

I’m going to the gym with Mingyu. I’ll text you later, okay?

Mingyu looked like he was in his second home. As soon as he set foot on its rubber mats, someone waved at him from afar.

“You’re popular even here,” you mumbled beside him as he returned the friendly wave.

“I’m not,” he giggled softly, clearly ashamed. “I don’t remember who that guy is,” he confessed.

You blew a raspberry in the air.

“Shuddup,” he whined quietly, tips of his ears turning bright red.

The locker rooms smelled of men’s deodorant and floor detergent. It was a Monday night, so it wasn’t as busy as other days. You looked around, realizing that your friend, Jungkook, was nowhere to be seen.

Mingyu opened the locker that seemed to belong to him, since you’ve only ever seen him use that one in particular. He threw his gym bag in, pulling out only his phone, no earphones, no water bottle.

You were fixing your hair in a way that it wouldn’t bother you as much while being there—but it still mattered to you to look good, so you turned around to face yourself in the full body mirror.

Through the corner of your eye, you saw Mingyu glancing your way, closing the locker and then taking two steps towards you. You diverted your gaze from your hair to him, watching as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a back hug.

“You ready?” he asked, pressing his lips against your head.

“Depends,” you smirked. “Should I be afraid?”

Mingyu smiled, making your heart jolt. “No,” he replied. “Although you should be prepared, because I’m annoying when I work out.”

“We’ve worked out together before,” you shrugged.

“And I was annoying even then,” he said.

“Only a little,” you joked.

He clicked his tongue and dropped his mouth open, pretending to be offended.

“But you make it up by being handsome,” you said, giggling at his expression.

“I’ll take it,” he said, planting another kiss on your hair and then stepped back. “Let’s warm up.”

You made a face.

“We can’t skip warm-up,” he told you, pretending to be stern. “I don’t want you to blame me when you pull a muscle. It’s leg day today.”

“I will blame you for the soreness tomorrow either way,” you quipped.

“Tsk,” he nodded to the treadmill. “Come on.”

The whole time while warming up, Mingyu was playful. He looked almost excited, joyful like a boy in a toy shop, and he wanted to show you how every single trinket worked. The only other time you could compare this moment with was shadowed by the new attitude he carried.

Then you both moved to the floor. And this was when all the playfulness you both kept while on the treadmills died completely, and was instead replaced by an entirely different mood.

You were supposed to be doing squats. Mingyu stepped behind you to correct your form, deciding to place his hands on your hips—at first, he was doing so in a professional manner, his fingers carefully dodging the bit of skin that spilled between the waistband of your yoga pants and your top.

But your eyes flew to the mirror, finding his face. Your pulse jumped, but you had to focus all your strength and might to pull yourself up, because if not, you would’ve fallen on the floor while carrying the barbell on your shoulders.

“There,” he murmured behind you, his tone low. “Keep your back straight.”

You managed to nod, biting your bottom lip. You tried—and failed—to keep focused.

But his fingers switched, ever so slightly. And now the pads of his fingers landed on the bit of skin as you lowered your body in another squat position, carrying the barbell on your shoulders. You tried not to think about how close he was. But his gaze also zeroed in on your face, and he swallowed hard when he helped you come back up, his hands squeezing the soft muscle of your waist.

“Give me one more,” he instructed.

Your gaze shot up to find him in the mirror. “I can’t. I’ve hit my limit,” you said, tone shaky, breathing hard.

“Yes, you can,” he nodded. “You’re stronger than you think.”

You let out a breath in a resigned way. “Okay,” you said, taking a couple of deep breaths to prepare yourself.

“Come on, babe. Down again,” Mingyu mumbled, continuing to spot you as you dipped down. “Chest up.”

You let out a grunt, feeling your thighs ready to give up with crushing fatigue.

Mingyu smiled, his hands descending from your waist to your hips as you lowered them, fingertips digging into your flared yoga pants, like readying himself to rip them off you. “Lower, go lower.”

You clenched your jaw.

“That’s it,” he said, looking at you through the mirror with a proud look on his face. “That’s my girl.”

When you stepped forward to rack the bar, you stumbled a little, and he caught your waist again with both hands. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest when his fingers dipped on the plush of your belly.

“Careful there,” he said, stepping closer to you again.

You caught your reflection in the mirror. You were sweaty, cheeks flushed, and eyes wide open in alarm. Mingyu was touching you too comfortably to be in a public space. You sent your gaze around the gym.

Mingyu noticed. “Relax,” he said, smiling with confidence.

But your body refused to relax. He was standing too close for you to focus on anything else—all you could think of was how warm his body felt, how easily you could feel the definition of his muscles through his gym clothes. And not only that, but your knees were shaking, and you were still panting. “I hate you,” you said, deadpanning to him through the mirror.

Mingyu let out a breathy laugh. “Take it out on me then. Later,” he replied.

You had barely crossed the door when Mingyu grabbed you by the hips, flipping you around and putting you against the wall. A breath caught in your throat, but you were quick—wrapping a hand around his nape as he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own.

The kiss was swift and brief, his lips barely grazing yours. “I like how you look,” he said, his tone low, tired, and raspy.

“Sweaty?” you replied with a meek giggle.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “And wearing these,” he said, his hands clenching around the elastic fabric of your yoga pants. “You were driving me crazy.”

A familiar warmth spread deep in your tummy. “Don’t think you were the only one,” you said, arching an eyebrow at him as he planted another ghostly kiss on your lips. You ran your other hand down his chest, feeling his bulging pecs beneath his compression t-shirt.

“Mmn,” he hummed, looking at your lips before diving for a deeper, longer kiss.

His lips were warm, wet—locking with yours perfectly. You melted into him, the whole world blurred around you as he expertly dipped and grabbed you by your thighs, carrying you in his strong arms with your legs wrapped around his torso.

This dance was one you knew well. It was as though Mingyu and you could speak to each other without having to utter a single word. He eased you onto the mattress, pulling back to remove the compression shirt with just one movement of his arms, and then he moved his hands to hook them beneath the waistband of your yoga pants.

With a couple of rushed tugs, he stripped your pants, the look on his face changing to a pleased one once he saw your bare legs, your thick thighs. He quickly placed his hands on each of your sides, bending down to kiss you again. “You’re beautiful,” he told you in between pecks.

You smiled, eyelids fluttering close when he kissed under your jawline. “Mingyu,” you sighed.

“The prettiest girl,” he continued, kissing your neck, nipping your skin and then etching the first lovebite.

The feeling shot straight down to your core, swift like lightning but lingering on your skin. “Gyu!” you whined.

It was his turn to smile. And you felt it—his lips curving against your skin. “And the hottest,” he added, placing another mark with his lips against your chest.

He quickly got rid of the rest of your clothes—stripping your tank top, your thong and your sports bra, all while making you feel like you were the luckiest girl in the world. The compliments kept spilling out of his lips, like he would die if he didn’t tell you how he felt as your clothes came off.

And you couldn’t help but submit to him wholly.

You wanted to make him feel good. Oh, you craved to do anything to make him feel good.

You silently took control, motioning him to sit with his back relaxed against the headboard of his bed once he was utterly and completely naked. Mingyu followed your silent command, his gaze lost in you as you crawl up to him and straddle his lap, loving the dazed look on his face. You sat comfortably with enough space to wrap your legs around him, wasting no time and grabbing his hard cock in your hand.

And when you sank on him, pure euphoria gripped your body. Mingyu was big, and you were practically slipping him inside you with no prep beforehand.

A whiny, pathetic moan fell from your parted lips, eyes watering instantly at the bite. But you bounced on top of him, trying to bottom out on him fully.

Mingyu placed a hand on your hip, his eyebrows pinching softly. “Almost there, baby,” he whispered, pressing down on your lower back but not putting enough strength to force you down and make you sit on him fully just yet. 

You closed your eyes, enjoying the pain you always got whenever you took his cock. You loved it—the way your pussy struggled to swallow his cock in, the way your walls quivered and drooled around his length.

And Mingyu loved it too. “Fuck,” he sighed, dropping his forehead against the center of your chest. He breathed out. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

Your lips curved into a smile, almost like moving on their own. “Yeah?” you purred, running your fingers through his hair. “Do you like feeling how wet you get me?”

Now his head lolled back, as though he couldn’t help but leave the rest of his body at your mercy. “Yes,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “I love it.”

You continued bouncing on top of him, enjoying the way his gaze dipped down to your chest, to your tits. His hand palmed one of your tits, running the pad of his thumb on top of your pert nipple to then pinch it softly.

You moaned louder this time, welcoming the rush from the pleasure that flooded through you. The words remained lodged between your lips, but you also wanted to tell him just how fucking good he felt. You loved feeling his big cock stretching your walls open, you loved feeling how deep he could reach inside you, how well he filled you up.

Mingyu closed his eyes, his lips parting as he moaned—the sound weak and raw at the same time. “Keep doing that, baby,” he pleaded, sighing deeply. “Please, don’t stop.”

You grabbed his face in your hands, tilting his head back so you could kiss his mouth as you rolled your hips on him slowly. “Tell me when you’re close?” you mumbled.

He nodded quietly, closing his eyes as his hands clenched around your hips, like forcing himself not to take control. But he appeared to struggle with this, moaning more and more as your hips picked the pace up.

You rode him hard, fast, trying to get him as deep as you could. But it was becoming impossibly hard to keep the movement of your hips—fatigue was taking over your muscles, and not only that, but you felt like your orgasm was drawing near if you kept going like this.

But you commanded your body to keep going—your legs wrapped around him, chest pressed to him and your hands cupping his nape. And Mingyu was following the motion of your hips with his hands on your lower back, letting them roam down your ass, squeezing it softly, and moaning as he did so.

You loved the look on his face. He looked so lost in pleasure that he could barely breathe.

“Sweetheart,” he whined, his expression riddled with pleasure, it almost looked like he was in pain—his nose wrinkled, mouth parted, and eyebrows pinched together. “I’m close—fuck, baby. I’m so close.”

You acted quickly—pushing yourself up, his cock slipping out of you and landing on his lower abdomen with a soft and wet thump. Climbing off his lap, you got to your knees beside him and with no warning, no hesitation, you took his cock in your mouth.

Mingyu winced, sucking a hiss loudly. “Fuck,” he cussed again, his hands grabbing your head, fingers coiling around your hair. But he didn’t pull, he just watched as you started to bob your head up and down his thick cock.

You blinked and looked up, keeping your eyes on his face as you swirled the tip of your tongue around his cockhead. His mouth dropped open again, but he kept his eyes trained on your face, his eyebrow twitching when you gagged around his cock, sucking him obscenely loud.

“God,” he gasped, blinking slowly. “I’m cumming,” he said, and then he started to moan. The sounds that kept coming out of his mouth were soft, sweet and whiny. Spurts of cum landed in the back of your throat, filling your mouth and almost making you choke. But you swallowed him down to the last drop, still looking at him as he melted completely into a puddle of pleasure.

He was breathing raggedly, his hands cupping your face now as you finished with a kiss on the tip of his cock. Mingyu smiled, running the pad of his thumb on the corner of your mouth, wiping your drool away.

And then, he motioned to the pillows with a tiny jerk of his head. “Lay down for me,” he asked, his tone having grown raspy and low.

You smiled and crawled to prop a quick kiss on his lips. “As you say,” you replied sweetly, plopping onto the mattress.  

Mingyu wasted no time, rolling onto his belly and burying his face between your thighs. He first placed an open kiss on one of your inner thighs, very close to your pussy. You felt the hot and wet muscle of his tongue, breath hitching loudly.

You heard him smile. “Be still,” he mumbled, bending down again and sucking a spot on your skin, leaving another hickey.

“Gyu,” you moaned, closing your eyes as he licked your folds, dipping the tip of his tongue in your puckering entrance.

Mingyu nudged at your engorged clit with the tip of his nose right before kissing it, pressing his tongue against it and then continuing to make out with your cunt as though he were kissing your mouth. He kept doing this, eating your pussy as you tensed and arched your back, gripping the bedsheets tightly.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, your tone sweet and fading as your orgasm consumed you in fiery, electric waves. “Fuck, Mingyu!” you cried out, louder this time, pleasure climbing higher and higher, crawling swiftly underneath your skin, making it prickle.

When pleasure subsided gently, you sifted your fingers through his hair, quietly indicating to him to stop. You were panting quite pathetically, shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Mingyu crawled back, and you were quick to grab his face and pull him into a hot kiss. “I love you,” you said, unable to resist the feeling gripping your heart.

He tried to reply, but ended up mumbling something against your lips—your hands still held his face, keeping it pressed against yours. Mingyu giggled, the sound joyful and sweet. “I love you,” he replied, kissing your face, your body, your hands.

After a few minutes, you and he remained lying on the bed, staring at each other and kissing every inch of each other’s bodies. And then, Mingyu climbed off your bed and started the shower for you.

As you came down to your senses, a buzzing noise distracted you. Your phone was lost beneath the small mountain of clothes on the floor, and when you reached to get it, your heart dropped.

You had told Wonwoo you would text him later. But that ‘later’ had stretched into three hours.

Hey. I’m coming back tomorrow. I’ll tell you when I land. Wanna talk?

Mingyu came back to his bedroom, and your heart stopped this time. He didn’t seem to notice the alarm flitting across the features of your face—probably because it was too badly lit in the bedroom, the only source of light coming from the bathroom.

You locked your phone and discarded it somewhere in your bed, deciding to give him a reply later.

Only that you didn’t know when later would come this time.

The next morning, Mingyu decided to wake you up by pressing loving, tender kisses on your face.

“Mn,” you hummed, blinking slowly. “Baby,” you mumbled, giggling sweetly when he kissed your cheek, then your ear.

“I’m heading to the gym,” he informed you. “Forgot I told JK we would work out today,” he said. “Wanna come?”

You shook your head. “I can’t feel my legs,” you muttered groggily.

You heard a laugh right as you closed your eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, then. Rest up, sweetheart,” he said.

And then you dozed off, hearing the rustle of his clothes and the sound of his footsteps. You fell asleep, letting the tiredness sweep your consciousness away.

But then, he came back, and you thought that he’d come back to give you another kiss, maybe. “Gyu? Did you forget something?” you asked groggily, blinking slowly to find a figure standing in the doorway to Mingyu’s bedroom. You lifted your head from the pillow, vision clearing up at the same time that panic pierced you deep in your tummy. Your breath hitched quite dramatically, pushing you to stutter— “Wonwoo?” 

Wonwoo was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, head tilted slightly to one side. You weren’t sure how long he had been standing there, but it had given him ample time to get comfortable by crossing an ankle over the other. 

He pushed himself from the doorway, walking towards the bed with a gentle stride. You watched him as he approached, how he slowly lifted a hand to let his fingers glide against the soft bedcovers. He was taking you in, as though assessing you like you were one big, elaborate math question. 

“Morning, Baby,” Wonwoo mumbled, almost like you weren’t tucked in someone else’s bed. In his best friend’s bed. 

The tightness in your chest made you swallow hard right as Wonwoo sat down beside you on the bed, still looking at you. Now, you could discern a shadow of tenderness in his eyes, sweet, caring, but weary. 

“Wh-when did you get back?” you asked, not even attempting to hide the shock and horror in your tone.

Wonwoo blinked slowly, acknowledging your tone. “Just now,” he mumbled, shifting on the bed so he could slip a hand on your knee, feeling you over the covers. “Did you sleep well?” 

Shock and terror melted away, replaced by confusion. You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling your brow furrowing on its own. “Wonwoo—” you gasped, bringing a hand to clasp the bed sheets tightly against your chest before trying—and failing—to sit up. “What game are you playing?” 

A half smile crawled onto his face. He lowered his eyes, briefly looking at your half-asleep look—or the very evident post-sex look. But the glint in his eyes didn’t fade. “Not playing any games,” he said quietly. “It’s just a question.” 

You stared at him for one long, quiet moment, realizing that Wonwoo indeed was not playing any games. He was indeed curious about your well-being. And it was obfuscating that he was holding this position, while it was very obvious that you had slept in Mingyu’s bed. 

Wonwoo gave you another one of those slow blinks. “Relax, baby,” he said, his tone soothing, almost seducing you to follow his command. But then he motioned to the door with a subtle jerk of his head. “Did he leave?”

You nodded, sitting up on the bed. Then you felt glad that you had decided to wear Mingyu’s t-shirt, and weren’t completely naked. “But he could be back at any minute, and if he finds you here—” 

“You haven’t talked to him?” 

The question landed like a curse. You hated how it made you feel—like you were doing it all wrong, like you were stringing up something that would eventually blow up on your face. But there was something else to it, something you weren’t ready to sit down and really think about. 

“I have,” you replied with a laboured sigh. You ran a hand through your messy hair, finally raising your eyes to meet Wonwoo’s face. “He’s confused.”

Wonwoo pursed his bottom lip in a light pout, his gaze wandering to the ceiling in consideration. “Confused because you want this or because he’s not totally against it?” 

His words left you cold. You gave yourself a shake. “How do you know he’s not totally against it?” you asked, and then— “Have you talked to him?” 

He replied with a shy smile. “I’ve told you, I know him. He’s my best friend. If he were resolute about his desire to keep his thing with you completely monogamous, then he’d just say it like it is,” he said with a light shrug, meeting your gaze. “But yeah, I’ve also talked to him.” 

You arched an eyebrow at him. “What aren’t you telling me, Wonwoo?” 

He took in a breath through his parted lips, choosing his next words carefully. “I think he hasn’t said yes to the idea because he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he wants it,” he continued with a roll of his eyes and a matter-of-fact tone: “And he’s also pissed at me still.” 

You let out a light huff. “So if he weren’t mad at you, do you think he’d what, say yes?”

“I think he’s not saying yes right away because he wants to punish me for what I did for a little longer,” he said, sounding half amused. “You know, he’s letting me bleed for a little bit.”

You blinked repeatedly, dumbly. “But he’s not punishing me, why is he punishing you? It’s also something I did.” 

He slowed down—his train of thought coming to a stop. Much as though he had come into this room with an idea in mind, and your words had an impact, destroying that initial idea. “If he’s not punishing you, then why have you been distant with me?” he delivered his question carefully, tilting his head to one side. “Are you starting to feel guilty?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Try to be in my position,” you told him sternly. “And no, I don’t feel guilty. I’ve never done this—” you made a gesture with your hands, waving one towards Mingyu’s bed and the other towards Wonwoo. “—before, and it’s confusing! What am I supposed to do when I feel like the scales aren’t balanced for you or him?”

He caught a sight of the bedsheets crumpled around your hips, the bit of skin of your thigh showing. He seemed to have a hard time locking eyes with you again. “The point of all relationships is to figure that out together, isn’t it?” Wonwoo said, letting out a breathy smile, as though finding his own choice of words funny. “If it has been confusing you, then why didn’t you tell me anything?” 

There it was, the reason for all your anxieties. “Because I don’t want to hurt you,” you said, closing your eyes at the twinge driving itself like a knife right between your lungs. “You knew I was going to be with him this weekend,” you shook your head in defeat, letting your gaze wander away from his face. 

“So you do feel guilty, then,” he said. 

You blinked and found his gaze again, now at a complete loss for words. 

But then he made another one of those subtle gestures with his head, as though negating an idea that was starting to form in your mind without ever having to voice it out. He knew you well. “Don’t worry, I’m not hurt,” he said confidently. “I knew you still loved him from the first time I kissed you.”

You shuddered at the memory, heart squeezing painfully in your chest. “Wonwoo—” you started. 

He moved his hand from your knee, and even though it never touched your skin, you felt cold at the loss of his touch. But he was quick, running the back of his fingers against your cheek, grazing it lightly. “And before you say it, you don’t have to say sorry. We’re good.” 

You sighed, closing your eyes at the second his skin came in contact with yours. “I wasn’t going to say that,” you smiled softly at him. 

He caught the softness settling on your face. “Then what were you going to say?” he asked, his tone low. 

You took the hand that had grazed your cheek, squeezing his fingers gently before bringing his fingers to your lips, kissing his knuckles, and meeting his gaze again. “I was going to say that you don’t know how it feels to be in between Mingyu and you,” you said, and then a second later, you added with a lot more tenderness: “And you know I also love you.”

At that, he appeared to weaken. He let his head drop slightly forward in a feeble attempt to hide his true emotions from you. And you knew what the cause of all his weariness was, his careful questioning. Wonwoo was jealous. 

And the acknowledgement almost made you feel dumb. It was obvious, and it was staring you in the face. You were so consumed by the notion that you would hurt his feelings if he knew you were spending more time with Mingyu while he was away that you didn’t register that there might be other emotions in the mix. 

“Wonwoo…” you cooed tenderly, scooting a few inches closer to him while tilting your head to see him at a better angle. “Is that what this is about?” 

He gave you a guilty smile. “Look, I knew what was at stake when I proposed the idea of us three. I knew that there would be uncertainty, I knew that there would be guilt, jealousy…” he said and then sighed deeply. “What I didn’t count on was my lack of control over one of those emotions.” 

His honesty made every single doubt in your mind go away. Wonwoo wanted this. But it was your reluctance to fully commit to it that had him second-guessing your love for him. Did he think you would stop loving him all of a sudden? 

You laughed, the sound bubbly, honeyed. You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Oh,” you gasped, incredulous. “You thought I—” 

“Don’t say it,” Wonwoo whispered shyly, dispiritedly. Almost as though disappointed in himself. “I never believed anything. I let my imagination run wild when you didn’t text me back. I thought you had made your choice. I was envious of him. Jealous when I thought I was out of the game so quickly.” 

He pressed his palms against the back of your hands, which were still framing his face. You offered him a kind look, feeling your heart start to melt when you saw that insecurity flitting across his eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you, I did stop replying because I was with Mingyu,” your brow furrowed in worry. “I should’ve just told you. I’m sorry.” 

Wonwoo inhaled deeply once again, but you could see the evident stress on the features of his face go away as he exhaled. “This isn’t easy. Not for you, me, or Mingyu. I guess that as we go along and decide what to do, we’ll know how to handle it.”

You offered him a small smile. “Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone soft, sweet. 

“Do what?” he replied. 

“Rationalize everything,” you shrugged lightly. “You always know what to say,” you told him. 

“Not always,” he countered with a low tone. Then a beat—his gaze drifted away from your face briefly, and you saw it on his face that the gears in his head were turning. But he added— “And especially not now, when everything I care about is hanging by a thread.”

Your heart slowed down to the point you felt like the air was exiting your lungs. Then you remembered that agonizing thought you had successfully pushed away. “Hanging by a thread?” you repeated. 

Wonwoo blinked at the ceiling, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t think you notice yourself slipping away. But I do.”  

You felt your mouth hanging open. “It’s not like that,” you started. 

“It is,” he countered, but you could tell he wasn’t upset. “You’re ghosting me because you don’t want to hurt him. And I get it. I do.”

You exchanged a long look with him, one that spoke out the words he didn’t dare to. It was real—you were hurting Wonwoo, and he was finally beginning to break under the weight of your indecision. 

Your heart stuttered. “Wonwoo—” 

“Look, I’m not mad at you, okay?” he admitted, his voice softening and breaking at the last word. “I don’t want to resent you or him. I’m scared that I’m losing you before I even had the opportunity to be with you. And I’m also losing my best friend.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could even stop, tears were forming in the corners of your eyes. You lifted a hand, reaching his cheek and tenderly bringing his face to yours, commanding his gaze to yours. “Look at me,” you said softly. 

Wonwoo met your gaze, and when he did, your chest caved in. He looked wrecked—like a man who had been trying to keep his emotions at bay for days. 

You lifted your other hand; now both of your hands were framing his beautiful face. “I’m not slipping away.” 

He blinked slowly, letting out an exhale before touching your forehead with his. “I know,” he mumbled. “It just feels like you are.” 

“I messed up,” you confessed, pulling away slightly so that you could see his face again. “I did it all wrong. I thought I was making sure I wouldn’t hurt either of you, but now I know.” 

His eyes searched yours, and you knew that he was just listening intently, but in your mind, you thought he was doubting you. And the thought made your chest ache. 

“I’m not choosing him over you or the other way around,” you said firmly. “But I’m also scared of making the wrong move. I’m scared of hurting you or him, and I panicked.” 

His gaze softened, as though something he saw in you or heard in your tone made him worry. 

“Let me figure things out,” you said, your tone waning. But it was the heavy weight of your next words that made your throat really close up: “You’re not losing me. I promise.” 

Wonwoo looked at your features, his fingers reaching for a strand of your hair, feeling it between the pad of his thumb and index finger. He was thinking of what to say—you had learned to discern that look in his eyes. “What are you going to do?” he asked. 

You let out another shaky breath. “I’m going to talk to Mingyu again,” you said, tone thick in anxiousness, fear. “I’m going to tell him what’s happening between you and me.” 

His jaw tensed slightly. “And what exactly is that?” he asked quietly, looking at you, studying you. “What will you tell him? We haven’t exactly seen each other since that other day. So he knows everything that has happened between us.” 

“That’s one of the things that I need to think about,” you said, smiling faintly at him. 

Wonwoo chewed the inside of his bottom lip pensively, and you could almost feel his anxiety from where you sat. 

“Wonwoo,” you whispered at him, feeling your heart stutter when he blinked, and the features of his face relaxed. “You’re not losing me,” you repeated pointedly, this time more grounded in your decision. 

There was a long pause, one that Wonwoo dedicated to looking into your eyes. There was no doubt in him, but you knew that he needed to make sure that you were sure of what you were saying and doing. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t hurting yourself with your own choice. 

“Okay,” he finally whispered. And it wasn’t in a renounced way. It was more like there was so much he wanted to say, but his lips were sealed. 

You held his dark gaze for another moment. “Okay,” you repeated. 

There was something in him that shifted. And you could see it in the way that he shuddered, like he was suddenly made brittle. He let out the gentlest of exhales, his forehead dropping forward and touching yours, his breath brushing against your lips. “Baby…” he breathed, tilting his face forward, the tip of his nose barely grazing yours. 

It was the smallest of touches, but feeling his face so close to yours made your whole body heat up with desire and unrestrained yearning. You realized just how badly you had missed him—his voice, the smell of his cologne, his presence alone.

Your fingers found his arms, fingers curling around the fabric of his knitted black sweater just as his hands cupped the back of your head. You heard him swallowing hard right before you pushed your lips, touching his briefly, fleetingly. It was a very taunting kiss at first, almost as though sensing the warning of it, but still ignoring it just to taste what it’d feel like to kiss Wonwoo in Mingyu’s bedroom. 

Wonwoo let out a strangled sound, almost as though in surrender. His lips met yours again, now capturing your bottom lip in between his lips, kissing you passionately, but he was still tender with you. This kiss tasted like he’d been wanting to do this for days and nights, but just conforming to the memory of kissing you. 

His hands moved to your jaw, pads of his thumbs brushing your jawline gently as he tilted your head back slightly, kissing you more passionately now. His lips moved with yours in a seamless dance, almost as though he hadn’t forgotten a single kiss you shared in the past. 

You felt him wanting to lean in closer to you, but stopping before he could even shift on the bed. That made him finally draw back, his lips creating a smacking wet sound as he moved away from you, panting softly. “We have to stop now,” he whispered, but the alarm was very evident in the sound of his words. 

Your heart deflated, but you nodded. “Okay,” you replied faintly. 

But you could still feel his breath lingering against your lips. Both of you were breathing hard, and you could tell that it was partly because of the air being tight in your lungs and the rapid beating of your heart. 

Wonwoo searched your eyes swiftly. Something he saw in you made him sigh. “This is what I’m afraid of.” 

You stared at him for one long second. “What?” you whispered. 

“That we’ll continue to hide,” he said, his tone low. And he was quiet, like he didn’t want the truth to hurt you and him. “Wanting more. Not going anywhere with whatever this is.”

You were at a loss for words, your heart continuing to squeeze at each beating. It hurt to know that you didn’t have any kind of solutions to this just yet. You had been pushing away things that could change the situation for Wonwoo only because you were afraid. And in turn, you were hurting him.

Wonwoo could see that you were struggling to find something to tell him. But he kept his expression impassive, his eyes searching yours. And once he was certain of something, he leaned again, pressing the softest kiss on your lips. “Hey,” he whispered. “I’ll give you time. Whatever time you need, okay?” he said, his tone still low, but you could tell he struggled to get his words out. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

You gave him a sad smile. “I’ve done nothing but make you wait,” you told him, trying to look away because of the shame invading you, but something caught your eye.

It was him still looking at you like you were some complicated puzzle. Like he was figuring you out, trying to know what was going on in your head.

“Maybe,” he mumbled, shrugging lightly. “I guess that’s what people who love each other do, right?”

“Wonwoo…” you said, your tone shaky. 

“I know, I know,” he said, showing you an empty smile like he already knew where you would go with your words. “I’ll go now. Before I do something really stupid.”

Your heart sank to your stomach. He looked like he wanted to stay, like he wanted you to tell him just that. Your breath hitched slightly, hand slipping on top of his before he could pull away completely. “Stop,” you whispered. And it was just one utterance, but it came out desperate.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear a tiny voice telling you that whatever would happen next, there was a big chance you would regret it. But you quite literally brushed the thought away by crushing your lips against his, kissing him heatedly.

“Let’s do something stupid,” you told him, your voice rough and almost unrecognizable. You realized that you were panting, near hyperventilating from just nervousness alone.  

He paused. Your tone caught him off guard, making him blink and stare at you fixedly. “He could be back in any minute,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you slightly, curiously.

The rapid beating of your heart was starting to become annoying. “Then let’s not waste time talking,” you murmured, nearly pleading.

Wonwoo let out a sigh, a mixture of disbelief and amusement. He looked like he didn’t know how to take the sudden change in attitude. But he lifted his hand from yours, fingers brushing your cheek, slowly. As though seeing the desperation in your eyes, appreciating it like seeing his own reflection for the first time.

You leaned into his touch, eyelids fluttering wildly when he stretched out his fingers, gently touching your face, running the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. The last thing you knew was his hand slipping down to close around your throat before pulling you into a kiss, his self-restraint snapping like a thread.

Wonwoo kissed you, this time harder, deeper, his lips capturing yours like he was trying to catch you before you’d disappear. His other hand joined, cupping the back of your head while the one around your neck gripped you gently, then slightly harder, like trying to feel your pulse. The kiss was wet, hot and messy, eliminating every single coherent thought in your brain.

He pulled away, but not far, his lips grazing yours as he laid out his final warning: “Baby,” he said, his tone waning, coming out more like a plea.

You swallowed, afraid to open your eyes. “I know,” you breathed. “I know what I’m doing.”

You fisted the front of his black knitted sweater again. You didn’t need to pull him down to your lips again, he knew that you wanted another kiss—or rather that you wanted to silence him before he could argue again. Rationalize. He groaned into the kiss, the sound weak and raspy and vibrating in your mouth.

He pressed his forehead against yours again, breathing hard. “If Mingyu walks in—”

“Then he walks in,” you said.

Wonwoo pulled back, his eyes on you. Full of lust, greed and something beautifully dark. “Just like that?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Just like that.”

He read you briefly, his gaze capturing every blink, every breath. He noticed something, and he wanted to ask, his mouth parting slightly, but then, with a single blink of his eyes, it was gone. He framed your face with his hands, pulling you into a quick kiss. “So this is your way to force him to make a choice?” he asked.

“No,” you mumbled in between kisses. “It could happen that way, but it’s not what I’m planning.”

“Then what isyour plan?” he asked, his voice becoming gruff as you pushed yourself to your knees, his hands following the movement of your body, and landing on your waist.

“I just want you. Now,” you replied, straddling his lap. “Don’t think, Wonwoo. Just give me everything.”

Wonwoo could read you well, yes. But you also knew him better than most—and you knew his head would be swamped with concerns, with thoughts of where this was going, and all of the possible end scenarios. But you have effectively done it with the tone you used to deliver your command—snappy, urgent.

A slow smirk crept onto his face, his fascinated eyes roaming all over your face as he welcomed you onto his lap. “So this is what this has come to?” he asked stubbornly. “He gets you for a whole night, and I get what, fifteen minutes at most?”

You immediately caught on to his game. “I told you to stop thinking,” you said bashfully, looking at him through your lashes. “And it’ll probably be less than fifteen minutes,” you said, biting a cheeky smile as you grabbed his belt, unfastening it with shaking fingers.

“That needy you are?” he hummed, slipping his hand beneath your jaw, angling you for his lips. “Was he a lousy fuck, and that’s why you need me?”

You huffed softly, but it came out more like a sigh as his lips nibbled at your skin, leaving kisses down your neck. “Can’t I just need you?” you murmured, cheeks burning hot. “I miss you.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, kissing your throat. “Say that again,” he mumbled faintly against your skin.

You drew back from him to see his face. “Say what? That I miss you?” you asked, not waiting for any confirmation on his part, his glinting eyes were enough. “I miss you, Wonwoo,” you said, your tone weakening by the overwhelming feeling coiling around your throat.

Wonwoo remained looking up at you, even as your hands worked his knitted sweater up his torso, removing it and then giving his wife-pleaser the same treatment, discarding his clothes on Mingyu’s bedroom floor. Your rapid heartbeat was robbing you of air, and you thought that it would soon make you hyperventilate again. But you moved back, going for the button of his black denim pants.

“Stop,” he said, grabbing your hand in his. “You first,” he whispered.

You locked eyes with him again. “What—”

His hands moved to the hem of the oversized t-shirt that Mingyu had lent you. Wonwoo knew this t-shirt wasn’t yours, and that was probably one of the reasons why he wanted to remove it from your body. “Wait,” you mumbled, but it was already too late.

Wonwoo had already removed the t-shirt, leaving you in your panties alone. But in doing so, he uncovered what you hadn’t thought of hiding, because you remembered way too late about the lovebites littered all over your skin. Wonwoo’s dark eyes roamed from your chest to your tummy, to your inner thighs, his jaw tightening visibly as he returned his gaze to your face.

“Wonwoo…” you started, mouth dropping open in search of something to say. You recognized that look in his eyes. It was jealousy, but spiced with something else, and you didn’t recognize it at first, but you did now. 

Wonwoo enjoyed this.

“Are you sore, baby?” he asked, his tone low and surprisingly sweet. His eyes trailed down your body, following the red marks on your skin to the inner side of your thighs. He ran his hands from your hips up your back, feeling your skin, palming your breasts.

“Yeah,” you whispered, feeling obfuscated by the question. But you tensed when his hands reached your breasts, confirming your answer. You tensed slightly, but welcomed his gentle touch, nonetheless.

“Was he rough on you?” he asked, leaning to prop a light kiss on your shoulder, right on top of one lovebite.

“No,” you replied, fingers curling around his sweater. “He’s never rough on me.”

“Hmmph,” he smiled against your skin, kissing another mark. “Do you want me to be?”

This was what you loved about him. Or one of the things you loved about him.

“Yes,” you uttered quickly. “God, yes. Please.”

He let out a sound that sounded low, raspy, and mocking. But he continued kissing each mark he could reach with his mouth—your neck, your collarbones, shoulders… Eventually, he reached your chest, bringing his hands to cup your tits and kiss the lovebites he could find. You winced, breath hitching when he gently popped one of your nipples inside his mouth, kissing it, sliding his tongue around it slowly.

Your mouth dropped open, but you circled his shoulders with your arms for support, holding onto him as he switched to kiss your other nipple, slurping sounds coming from his mouth as he sucked your tits and kissed them eagerly.

“You’re going to get on all fours, baby,” he instructed, his tone still low, sugared. “I want you to be the first thing he sees when he walks in.”

Your stomach churned at the sound of those words. “Don’t say things like that, Wonwoo.”

“I’ll say whatever I want,” he told you, showing you a small smile. “You get to use me as your boy toy all you want, at least let me decide how he finds us.”

“You’re not my boy toy,” you gasped, pushing his shoulder weakly. But you couldn’t ignore the twinkle of elation in his eyes. He was still messing with you. Like a cat playing with its food.

Wonwoo grabbed you with one hand, squishing your cheeks, pulling you to kiss your pouty mouth. “No?” he mumbled, and you hated that your heart stuttered at the sight of his smile. “You only want me when you’re lonely. You ask me to fuck you, and I do. You ask me to leave, to come back, to listen to you cry, and I do it all for you.”

Your eyes widened. You were sure that he wasn’t being serious with his words, but the dark, mischievous look in his eyes made your blood heat, wanton desire boiling under your skin. “Wonwoo—!”

“If we’re going to do this quickly, then do as I say,” he told you, and he delivered his instruction with a soft tone, like quietly pleading with you to stop resisting and sub for him without having to say it that way.

Your heartbeat slowed down, almost as though seeing the confidence in him made you rethink and just follow. “Okay,” you whispered, climbing down his lap and off the bed altogether. Taking the opportunity that he was already looking at you, you hooked your thumbs around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your hips.

He followed the movement of your hands with his lust-filled gaze. Now that you were standing in front of him, you could appreciate his half-naked body—his chest exposed, wide shoulders, the dark happy trail… And even though he wore black denim jeans, you could see the outline of his big cock tenting his pants, pressing down his thigh.

Even though he’d said those incredibly harsh words, he wanted you. Was this all part of an act to get himself hard? You weren’t sure, but you were also enjoying it.

Wonwoo jerked his head towards Mingyu’s bed, reminding you of his command. You climbed on the bed, taking a bit of free will and placing yourself on the edge of the bed first, facing the door.

Wonwoo discarded the rest of his clothes quickly, undoing the zipper of his black denims and pushing them down along with his underwear. Once fully naked, you experienced something in your chest—it was wild, like agony, lust, and love all together at the same time.

You loved this man and the lengths he would go just to be with you.

But before he could climb on the bed with you, he looked at you as you waited for him, sitting on your knees at the edge of the mattress, waiting for him. “Bend over. I want to see you,” he said, jerking his head at you.

You decided to go all out for him, following his every wish, subbing for him completely. You bent even lower, placing your face against the bedcovers and your arms framing your head—compelled to be still and waiting for his next move.

He wasn’t quick, like you wanted him to be. No, Wonwoo was calculated as always. You felt his hands on your lower back first, caressing your skin as he palmed your butt, squishing you softly, spreading you to his view. His hands on your skin had you on fire almost immediately, a breath catching around your throat.

“Ngh,” you squeaked against the bedcovers as his lithe fingers prodded around your outer lips, caressing you, touching you just to get a reaction from you. You could feel your entrance puckering at his touch, skin tingling, aching for more.

“So responsive,” he whispered to himself. Teasing your dripping wet pussy with his fingers. “Tsk, you’re so swollen, Baby.”

“Yeah. And sore,” you mumbled.

Wonwoo hummed in response, the sound low and raspy as he breathed out. He pushed the pads of his fingers against your pussy, feeling your slick and engorged folds. You whined, the sound muffled because you continued pressing your face against the mattress—partly due to being self-conscious.

“Do you like that?” Wonwoo asked, his tone faint as he appeared to sound in a daze. His fingers explored, touching gently as he slowly masturbated you, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling his fingertips around it in gentle motions.

You nodded. “Uh-huh,” you replied, instinctively arching your back more, trying to get his fingers inside you at last.

But Wonwoo responded with an airy chuckle. “God, Baby, you’re getting so wet. You’re soaking my fingers,” he said, and just by the sound of his voice, you could tell that he was smiling. And you could almost picture it, the softest of smiles on his face as he teased you with his fingers.

You sighed, letting out a raunchy sound that was partly muffled by Mingyu’s bedcovers. You pressed the side of your face against the mattress, closing your eyes to enjoy the gentle prodding of Wonwoo’s fingers in your entrance, teasing you by just inserting his index and middle fingers to the first knuckle.

“Did he cum inside you last night?”

Your eyes flashed open, but you didn’t move another inch. “No,” you replied, feeling your heart stop when his fingers stilled inside you. “I had him cum in my mouth.”

There was a pause after that, and you ached to twist your neck to take a look at his face, to see what was happening inside that beautiful brain of his. But he let out a soft sigh, like a smile and then— “Good girl,” he praised, his tone low and almost sweet.

You blinked slowly, a shudder invading you partly because of his fingers toying with your pussy, but also because of his words. Did he mean that you were a good girl because you didn’t let his best friend cum inside you? Or because you swallowed his cum?

But before you could let those words out of your mouth, you heard shifting behind you. Your blood began to sizzle in anticipation, thinking that he might finally start fucking you, but no. His hands came to grip the back of your thighs, his fingers digging into the plush muscle of your butt, spreading you again.

And then you felt his tongue against your cunt. Your fingers instantly curled around the bedcovers, hands turning into fists for support, and then you were wailing out lewdly. “Fuck!” you screamed, eyes screwing shut as he licked your folds, lips kissing your cunt. “Wonwoo—!”

The next sounds that came out of him were a mixture of grunts and moans, slurping and smacking sounds. He was eating your pussy like he was hungry and you were his only source of sustenance—kissing your outer lips, licking your folds and your entrance, teasing you, tasting you. His hands gripped you tight, holding you steady as your body twitched and trembled in sheer ecstasy.

You realized that he wasn’t eating you out just to pleasure you, no. He was eating you out like he truly wanted to taste you, like he’d missed the fun of torturing you with his tongue. He almost sounded like he was desperate, like he wanted to mark the only part in your body that didn’t have Mingyu’s lovebites all over.

He continued licking your folds with broad but gentle strokes, teasing you slowly by running the tip of his tongue up your cunt and reaching your puckered hole. You winced, almost snapping your head back from the whiplash, but you remained still, moaning salaciously as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue.

Your hands were holding onto the bedcovers so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. You were breathing hard against the bedcovers, moaning in pleasure and desperation. You ached to feel him deeper, but you just waited.

Wonwoo drew back, and the loss of his mouth on you had you whining again. “How did that feel?” he asked, his tone had grown thick and raspy. It sounded like heaven to you.

“Good,” you sighed. “I want more,” you said, feeling your body twitching, begging for more.

“Yeah? Did you like me teasing this cute little ass?” he asked, and to emphasize his question, he circled your puckered hole with the tip of his finger. You moaned and nodded. “Do you want me to fuck you in here?”

“Fuck, Wonwoo—yes,” you mewled.

This time, Wonwoo laughed. He laughed like he’d found your neediness endearing. “I will, Baby. But we don’t have time for that today,” he said, patting your butt gently.

You understood without him having to say a word, you crawled some inches forward, making space for him to climb on the bed. Now you were both across the bed, facing the door. Sheer panic came over you, so you resorted to pressing your face against the mattress again.

“Shy much?” he teased, and you could hear the amusement in his tone as he grabbed you by the hips again. “This was your idea, remember?” he said right as you felt the bulbous head of his cock sliding up and down your folds, smearing himself with your arousal. Feeling his cockhead rubbing against your folds made you wince, salivate, and almost whine with anticipation.

You turned your head on the mattress, casting a meek glance at him, and for a split second, you almost begged him to just shove his cock into you. But Wonwoo held your gaze, his mouth parting just slightly as he pushed himself inside you ever so slowly. A long, gentle exhale came out of him just as his eyebrows began to knit, continuing to push his hips against your ass, sinking his hard cock in, and in…

“Babe—” you gasped, eyes beginning to brim with tears. You were so sensitive, so swollen, and aroused that it was hard to focus. The feeling was so good, it was mind-shattering.

“Are you okay, Baby?” he immediately asked when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Yes. Please k-keep going,” you stuttered, sounding so lewd and whiny that you felt your cheeks flushing.

Okay, he mouthed, but he kept his eyes on your face as he pushed his cock to the hilt. “I’m going to start moving,” he told you, and only started doing so after you blinked at him in assent.  

His hands moved on your body as he started thrusting. First, he caressed your hips, hands roving on your lower back and then palmed your ass gently, lovingly. You moaned at the feeling of his hands caressing your skin as he pushed his hips against your ass, thrusting his cock deep inside you, massaging your tight walls deliciously.

Tears spilled from your eyes and continued building up, the pleasure so high that your mind was slowly losing its grip on reality. You had been aching for this—for Wonwoo’s attention, for his love, him inside you. A raunchy moan spilled from your lips, and you just kept on making the same airy, lewd noise over and over as the sound of his hips snapping against your ass also flooded the room.

“Give me your hand,” Wonwoo said.

Your eyes were still on him. He noticed the tears in your eyes and the dazed look on your face. But smiled anyway as you moved a hand behind your back and extended it to him. And Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, pinning it against your lower back.

“The other,” he said, and you offered him your other wrist so he could have them both firmly secured behind your back.

And then, he started plowing on you. Hard, fast and exactly just like your body craved. Now, Mingyu’s bedroom was filled with the very obvious sounds of sex—your raw moans, the raspy, airy sounds Wonwoo made, paired with the sounds of skin slapping on skin, and smacking sounds coming from his cock ramming into your dripping wet pussy.

You blinked slowly, trying to hold back, but you were slowly losing control. “Ngh—fuck—Wonwoo!” you whined, unable to stop your moans and lewd gasps. So you just kept rambling: “Fuck—just like that. Just like that, babe…”

You could hear his laboured breathing, the little sounds of pleasure he tried to contain as he kept snapping his hips against your ass, cock reaching so deep inside you that you were slowly driven insane. You didn’t even think of telling him when your orgasm hit you out of nowhere—you just cried out, loudly and lewdly, nearly sounding like an animal.

“God, baby. Are you cumming?” he asked, his tone thick with awe.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, dragging your teary face on the bedcovers.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he sighed in pleasure. And he didn’t even need to mention it—you could hear the near-sinful, squelching noises your pussy made every time Wonwoo rammed his cock into you.

You arched your back even more, angling your ass for his hips that continued slamming his cock inside your tight walls. You could feel how wet you were, how your orgasm had left you feeling warmer and quivering even more than before. Every time he went in, he reached a sweet spot deep inside your walls that had you seeing stars and letting out high-pitched cries.

But then he yanked your wrists, pulling your upper half up. You gasped at the change, arching back to feel his chest, his lips barely grazing your shoulder as he continued thrusting listlessly. “Ready for this, baby?” he asked.

Your heart stuttered. “W-what?” you asked, still coming down from your high, too dazed to pay attention to your surroundings.

The front door to the apartment had clicked shut.

Your breath hitched.

And before you could even attempt to move, Wonwoo slipped his forearm between your back and your arms, binding your arms even more.

“Wonwoo—” you gasped, choking up on fear.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he replied in your ear, but continued pushing inside you like before, like it was a simple act between lovers, like it was just you and him… alone.

But when Mingyu appeared in the doorway, you wanted to be swallowed by a black hole. At first, you had a hard time discerning what the look on his face was. His eyes immediately zeroed in on you, on your face painted in shame, your naked body. There was nothing else on his expression except for his mouth parting barely. Was it awe? Disappointment? Excitement? You couldn’t tell.

“Say the word,” Wonwoo told you very quietly in your ear.

You failed to speak. It was too late now. And you weren’t even sure what you would say, even if you could speak.

Your hands sprang open, trying to reach anything you could grab—but Wonwoo had your arms firmly pinned behind your back as he kept rutting his hips against your ass. He had his face pressed against the crook of your neck, lips callously kissing your skin and moaning against it like he was deep in a frenzy.

Despite the deep shock you were in, you could tell that Wonwoo had started grunting more, the sounds coming out of him desperate, deep, on the verge of being animalistic. You were sure this wasn’t an act—something had shifted in him the minute Mingyu stepped through the door.

But then something you weren’t expecting happened. Mingyu dropped his gym bag at his feet, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe in the same manner that Wonwoo had been twenty minutes ago. And ever so slowly, Mingyu tilted his head to one side, his eyes trailing down your frame as though appreciative of your naked body.

Appreciative of what you were doing with his best friend in his bed.  

“I’m going to let go of your arms,” Wonwoo spoke in your ear, his voice slightly raw by the heavy breathing. His thrusts slowed down, turning sloppy, as though making sure that you were listening and not completely stunned. “And when I do, I want you to touch yourself. Put on a good little show for him. Got it?”

You nodded, turning your head to cast a swift look at him. “Okay,” you breathed, understanding that if you did what he said, then you would get on with this quicker.

But perhaps you should’ve known better.

Wonwoo showed you a light but confident smirk before letting go of your arms, but he didn’t let go of your body, wrapping his arms around your torso, his hands cupping your breasts. And then he resumed his heavy thrusts, pounding on you like there was no tomorrow, like this was his last fuck with you.

You instinctively reached for one of his hands cupping your breasts, and slipped the other hand in between your thighs, fingers reaching between your lips. The first caress of your fingers against your slippery folds made your skin prickle and your toes curl with sheer ecstasy. It didn’t help that Wonwoo kept shoving his cock inside you at an intensely hard and deep pace, because pleasure built even faster than before.

Your eyebrows knitted on their own, and you moaned so sweetly that it made Mingyu’s puppy eyes trail back from your hand to your face. Mingyu also enjoyed this—you finally acknowledged, feeling dumb at the realization.

Of course he liked this. Otherwise he would’ve walked out the door, you thought.

You watched as Mingyu’s gaze roamed all over the features of your face, making you wonder what you would look like. Your face felt hot, and you knew that your hair was still messy. You wondered if the light twinkle in his eyes was at seeing all the angry red lovebites littered all over your body. His eyes looked at your chest, the light jiggle of your tits as Wonwoo groped them in his hands, your nipples peeking out between his fingers.

You wondered if Mingyu liked seeing how Wonwoo was taking your body. How his best friend was fucking you so hard that it was certain that you would be bruised by tomorrow. And Wonwoo was faithful to your request and wasn’t stopping or going gentler any time soon—breathing fitfully against his neck, he was moaning raunchily and repeatedly, like he was trapped in a daze.

Mingyu’s gaze returned to your hand, looking at your fingers as you toyed with your swollen clit, rubbing it with fast swirls. It was your turn to moan lewdly now, seeing that Mingyu was biting his lower lip, breathing deeply as though to keep himself in check.

But there was no way you could ignore the growing erection beneath his gym shorts. And as your gaze fell on his cock, he rubbed a hand on top of it, shifting the position of his cock so that you could take a better look at the outline of it. It was huge, leaning downwards and pressing on his thigh. The sight made you lose what little sanity you still had—pleasure sizzled beneath your skin, making it prickle. You moaned, moving your fingers against your clit in the only way you knew it would bring an orgasm to you, that along with Wonwoo still thrusting his cock inside you hard and deep.

You were cumming again, at the same time that Wonwoo hugged you tighter to his body, his hips pressing against your ass fully as he emptied his load inside you. You knew he was cumming, you had learned every single manner of his in bed. He pressed his face against the crook of your neck, soft grunts escaping him as he finished off with a final, deep thrust.

And then you wanted to crash down.

Wonwoo unwrapped his arms from around your torso when you wriggled in his embrace, trying to break free, only because you felt like the air wasn’t reaching your lungs. Your hands reached the bed before you could even process what was happening, head snapping back to look at Mingyu, who was moving away from the door.

Everything happened slowly, but your head was spinning so fast that you were having a hard time keeping up with reality. You weren’t sure what you were feeling—different emotions were colliding and mixing like being thrown into a big storm.

The truth was that you felt shame. Shame for not wanting to stop. Shame for wanting more, wanting both men to be there in the same room, watching you naked, vulnerable and raw. You felt sticky, dirty. The kind of filth that you knew would not wash away with a hot shower. 

Your vision blurred, an ache rising inside you and coiling around your throat. “Mingyu—” you whispered shakily, looking at him as he paced to the foot of the bed, his expression hard to read.

Mingyu lifted a hand to cup your face, his warm fingers pinching your jaw as he delivered the next words sweeter than ever before: “You okay, Baby?”

Your heart stuttered, shock trickling down your spine—hot and vehement. Overwhelming. “Eh?” you uttered. It didn’t occur to you that in a moment such as this, Mingyu would turn his concerns to your well-being.

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Mingyu explained, his eyes beginning to show a little worry as he glanced behind you swiftly, meaningfully.

“If you want to stop, we stop right now,” Wonwoo said, and you didn’t see his face, but even though his tone was raw, he said those words firmly.

It took you some seconds to understand that both men were holding out for your answer. And you, in turn, were desperately trying to breathe, trying to gather as much lucidity as you could, but your heart was thumping loudly in your eardrums.

Mingyu took one good look at you—as though seeing through you. “We’re good, baby. I’m not mad,” he told you, lowering his face so you could only look at him in his eyes. “Do you want to stop? Say it.”

You were on the brink of melting into the mixture of emotions clashing and fighting inside you. Wonwoo knew it just by hearing your silence, and Mingyu could see it on your face.

But everything clicked in one second.

You slowly shook your head. “No,” you mumbled, finally finding the will to command your body. “I don’t want to stop.”

Mingyu released one breath slowly, shakily. Like he was scared for one second until he heard your response. “Yeah?” he breathed, still sounding sweet. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. “Want me to give you more?”

You weren’t sure what your body felt at that moment. As you looked at Mingyu, you regained your senses, starting with your face, Mingyu’s warm hand still holding it firmly.

You nodded again, slowly.

Mingyu read your expression for one brief moment. “Talk to me. I need to hear you say it, baby,” he said gently, as though still unsure you weren’t panicking on the inside.

“I want more,” you confessed with a shaky and tiny tone. Your heart started racing as you uttered your confirmation. And you knew you had to be crazy to play such a wicked game with both of these men—because there was no other way you could love two men at once without having to be a little bit insane.

But the craziness was just an excuse you needed to prove to yourself that you were capable of doing this.

However, Mingyu saw something in your face that didn’t allow him to be convinced, not fully. “Come here,” he muttered, grabbing your chin in one hand. You understood what he wanted without explaining verbally; you pushed yourself back on your knees, holding his shoulders before kissing him briefly.

It was a small peck on the lips. Tentative. But you weren’t sure if you were testing him or yourself. The shock your heart suffered from being passed from one man, and then the other right away, made the movement of your body stiff and visibly unsure.

But seeing you like this made Mingyu smile. His beautiful lips curved just a little, the spark in his eye regaining some playfulness. “What’s wrong, Shorty?” he asked, his tone low and raspy, as though wanting only you to hear him. “Lost your nerve?”

Quite instantly, you knew what he meant—he wanted you to play this game with him again. You thanked him by giving him a meaningful look, because there was no way you could do this without some foreplay on his part.

“No,” you replied to him, slipping your arms around his shoulders before bringing him closer to you. You kissed him, this time fully, passionately, his tongue brushing yours the moment you asked for entrance. He moved his hand from your chin to your waist, the contact from his palms to your naked skin sent shivers down your spine, pushing you to moan in his mouth.

With one effortless movement, Mingyu lifted you from the bed like it was nothing. And thinking that he was going to pull you away from the mattress, you attempted to wrap your legs around him. But no, he placed your back on the bed again, pulling back from you to remove his black compression t-shirt.

The first thing your eyes fell upon was the big red hickey sitting on the base of his neck, very close to his left collarbone—the one you had made last night. And Mingyu was sporting it with pride, as though telling anyone who could see it that he was taken. Mingyu smiled, glancing at Wonwoo and then back at you.

“You could’ve waited at least till I got back home,” Mingyu said, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what he meant.

But then— “To be fair, this wasn’t my idea,” Wonwoo replied, the matter-of-fact tone he used making you move your head back to look at him. There was a light smirk on his face, the kind he used whenever he was pleased with something.

“Oh, is that right?” Mingyu asked, now lifting his eyebrows at you. Then, and very slowly, he placed one hand next to your head, and then the other, now bending over you. His gaze fell on your lips, and then travelled back to your eyes. “Who would’ve thought you would become so greedy,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

Before you could even muster some kind of response, Mingyu closed the space between his face and yours by kissing your lips slowly. It was a featherlight kiss, one that was then followed by a second, then a third. “Does this greedy girl want more, hm?”

Greed. Mingyu was right. So right he was that it dawned on you that the shame you felt was born from the greed you were trying to ignore with cheap excuses and absurd lies. You were greedy. You loved them both.

They both loved you.

But finally, you were able to smile at that bitter truth. “Yes,” you mumbled sweetly. “I want you now, Mingyu.”

“Mmn,” he purred slowly, giving you more of those ghostly kisses. You turned your head as he made the trail down your neck, kissing each one of the lovebites he made. And once he got to kiss down your collarbones and your chest, you began to lose all clarity over the stuff that made you feel nervous initially.

“Gyu,” you whispered, his name barely making a sound as it escaped your lips. But you found yourself closing your eyes as his lips touched your skin, making it prickle. Then you were threading his soft hair with your fingers, following the movement of his head as he sank to your chest, kissing now your tits.

You blinked and opened your eyes, searching for the man sitting at the other end of the bed. Wonwoo was looking at you as he sat back and pressed his back against the headboard, determined to keep his eyes on the show. Instinctively, your mouth dropped open when Mingyu moved his hands to cup your tits, wrapping his hot mouth around one of your nipples and began to suckle.

Something inside you was sure that you had to be crazy—the reaction of your body was so strong, so vehement that there was no room for judgment. If there was something in your mind telling you to rationalize what you were doing, it was instantly shadowed by a shudder down your spine.

Mingyu was kissing your body while Wonwoo watched. Your skin was prickled, covered in goosebumps as Mingyu suckled one of your nipples, blinking slowly at you to lock his gaze with yours. He parted his mouth only to let the tip of his tongue glide around your areola. He looked like it was his life’s mission to pleasure you in that exact moment—his pupils were blown with lust, his dark hair messy from your fingers pulling on it, his lips reddened and glossy with his spit and yours.

And you were completely entranced now.

“Gyu. Please. Now,” you breathed, sounding all sorts of desperate. Whiny, needy.

At first, you weren’t sure he’d heard you at all. Because he continued kissing your body, his lips touching each and every single hickey he could find, as though reclaiming what was his.

A strangled sound escaped you when he nipped one of the lovebites with his teeth. It had your body responding on its own, heart skipping a beat, at the same time, a rush of heat sizzled under your skin. Mingyu heard the sound you made because he grazed your skin with his teeth a second time, and the feeling had your walls clenching around nothing, and your back arching instinctively.

Mingyu let out a breath against your skin, lifting his head to show you the smile painted on his face. “Fine. Don’t get all whiny,” he said with a playful tone, pulling his body back from yours.

You shot a quick look at Wonwoo. His gaze was still glued to your face. And if you didn’t know him, you would think that he’d grown bored—his expression flat and nearly hard to read. But you knew him well—you could see the slight glint in his eye as you looked back at him. Wonwoo was finally, finally getting what he wanted. And he was putting you to the test.

When you looked back at Mingyu, he was getting rid of his gym shorts. A thrill of excitement raced under your prickled skin at seeing him pushing his black boxers down. And once you saw him all gloriously naked, you couldn’t help but stare at his body; his beautifully tanned skin, his well-defined muscles…

Mingyu placed his hands on your thighs, caressing them briefly before wrenching them open for him. His gaze was trained on your face, and you knew that he was making sure that you were still in the room with both him and Wonwoo.

His gaze softened once he was certain, now letting his gaze roam all over your body. You knew you were a mess—you could feel it on your skin. And you wondered what you’d look like to them—skin covered in hickeys, hair messy, eyes darkened with pure lust and love.

“Gyu,” you pressed, trying to get him to do what you sorely needed.

Mingyu smiled, but didn’t avert his gaze from your body. You watched as he bit his bottom lip, a hand moving from your thigh to the top of your pussy. And then he slipped one finger between your folds, making you wince dramatically. “Are you sensitive?” he asked curiously, sinking the tip of his finger in your entrance.

You swallowed hard and nodded. “Very,” you added. And you knew just from the tingling feeling in your pussy alone that you were wet, swollen and red all over.

Without thinking, you glanced at Wonwoo again, shuddering hard when Mingyu slipped his finger inside you again, pushing the cum dripping out of your cunt. Wonwoo was now looking at what Mingyu was doing to you with his hand between your legs. And you could see now how arousing this was for both men—Wonwoo was completely hard again, his cock resting on his lower abdomen, leaning to one side a little.

“Do you think you can take me, baby?” Mingyu asked, his tone gentle and sweet.

“Yes. Please, Gyu. Now,” you urged.

You looked at Mingyu again, the sound of his smile calling your attention to him. He wrapped his hand around his cock, guiding it to your cunt and deciding to tease you a little bit more by gliding the tip down your slippery folds. You let out a moan as he nudged his cockhead in your entrance, and then he started to slip in.

Mingyu started pushing his cock in and out, grabbing your hips to keep you steady for him. And then, as though on command, you lifted your gaze and found Wonwoo. Something was written on both men’s faces, like a dark fascination that was focused solely on you.

You felt it—the change in the air in the bedroom as they shared one long, quiet look. And then you realized how idiotic you had been. You had tried to convince yourself that what you wanted was unrealistic, selfish. You had punished yourself for being unjust, for not picking the sane option.

But this wasn’t some math equation. You realized that Wonwoo hadn’t looked at you like some big puzzle he couldn’t find the pattern of.

And finally, finally, you understood that you didn’t have to split your heart. You found that your answer was to stop apologizing for how much love you had to give.

They both loved you.

You loved them both. 

☾ author's note: heeeeeeello

i took a long time updating this series. and i am writing this author's note to apologize for disappearing for such a long time.

the truth is, i'm tired. many things have been happening in my life that have slowed me down and continue to make me feel like i'm stuck in a rut. this past 6 months have been hell for me.

but it has been so so so nice to see you guys still engaging with my fics, and asking how i've been. truly, the only thing that keeps me coming back here is hearing from you guys, from the people that send asks and leave comments. i love you all, thank you for being in my writing corner! 😭🩵

i guess that's it from me for now, i'll be updating the other fics when i can!!

thank you for reading, seriously, guys. thank you 🫂🩵

toodles!

☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART XI! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE ♡

☾ author's note: hello hi hi hello there. just here to tell you that the main sex scene is obscenely long again [like wonwoo's c—] AND very descriptive, some of these things they do are slightly kinky, lol. so idk, listen to some sexy music, it's going to be a long ride

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

good sport

Wonwoo woke up with a thought clawing at his mind.

He usually didn’t let his impulses win. But this time, he couldn’t help himself.

Alone in his bed, he stretched his arm beneath the covers, sighing softly. With his eyes closed still, he clung onto the last slivers of his dreams, where he was with you instead.

It was one of those mornings. And at first, he felt so obfuscated by the sensation in his body because it had been so long since the last time he’d woken up like this. He was rock hard. The feeling was so tight that it was beginning to annoy him.

He knew why he had woken up with a raging boner in his pants. He’d just had a dream of you. Just blurs and pieces of him kissing your lips, your body. Glimpses of the faces you make whenever he’s inside you—your voice calling him babe.

Fuck it, he whispered as he slipped a hand beneath the covers, and then his boxers. He didn’t need to play with it at first. His fingers circled his girth, letting out a tiny hiss through his teeth when he found out that he was fully hard.

He pushed the bed covers away with his free hand, now having the space to move his hand on himself. Then he tugged the elastic band of his boxers, pulling his cock out. He started rolling his hand on himself, brushing the tip of his cockhead with the pad of his thumb. There was a good amount of precum leaking from him already, making him sigh a moan.

It was the first time in years he’d done this. Let alone, doing this for a woman who wasn’t entirely his.

But god, it had never felt so good.

He stroked his cock thinking about the last time he had sex with you. The way you looked so pretty, lips swollen from kissing him, teary eyes from the pleasure you were feeling. And your body, god, your body. He’d go to war just so he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.

Wonwoo sighed deeply, keeping his eyes closed to recall the memory. You were a dream. And you felt even better. He rolled his hand faster on his cock, pretending it was your tight and warm cunt swallowing him in. A small moan came out of him when he remembered the sounds of your moans, the sweet way you called him.

In his mind, he was watching your body—how it was the last time. The way your tits bounced gently as he pushed inside you, the way your pretty cunt was glistening with your arousal.

You were perfect for him. Perfect.

“Oh, god,” Wonwoo groaned, pushing his head back on his pillows and letting out a long sigh. He rolled his hand even faster as spurts of cum spilled from him, landing on his abdomen.

He was panting softly, trying to keep himself quiet in case he was heard. He opened his eyes, the light in his room was low, and without his glasses, it was hard to discern the state that he was in.

But he could feel it. He was lying half-naked in his unmade bed. The only things he wore were his boxers and gray sweats, which were messily pushed down.

The first time he slept with you, he knew he was crossing a line. And the second time, he didn’t care about it. And now…

He had a serious problem now.

Wonwoo got up, finding something to clean himself with before going out of his bedroom. Then, standing below the shower, he allowed himself to think.

The last time he saw you, he took you out to grab breakfast. And it was a cozy date, spent laughing and bantering with you. But as the time to go drew near, he found himself staring at a problem. One that, if he isn’t careful, could ruin a lot of things.

Jeon Wonwoo has never considered himself a romantic man. He never did. But lately, he had been debating that. 

Because whenever he was with you, he thought about it. He wanted to say things and do things just so he could see that light in your eyes again. He enjoyed making you laugh, the look on your face as you tilted your head back.

He shut the tap, standing crestfallen to let his hair drip onto the tiles.

Wonwoo knew one thing—he would fall in love with you. He already was.

As soon as Mingyu crossed the door to the gym, he looked around. Every day, he did this with the hope of seeing you by chance, despite knowing that you probably were sticking to coming here while he was at work.

The place was usually quieter in the mornings—the movement inside was slower, and the music coming from the speakers was almost non-existent. There were fewer people, but even so, it felt like everyone was readying for their day.

Mingyu felt restless.

He hadn’t been able to sleep. Part of him tried to convince himself that he was simply just tired. But ever since he saw you with another man, he felt different. Like something in him got triggered, and he hadn’t been able to reel it back.

Part of him knew that this was the aftereffect of his failed relationship with Gigi. The jealousy, the possessiveness. He needed to work through it. The ripple that the cheating and the heartbreak Gigi left in his heart needed to go.

He walked through the machines in the gym until he found an empty spot where he could warm up. He moved mechanically, pushed by muscle memory alone. In his head, he tried to logic his way through it.

Maybe you’ve moved on. Maybe you went back with your ex. Was it someone new? Was it someone he knew?

Each one of those options made him sick. He was too late; that was something he was beginning to come to grips with.

His workout session felt stale, like the usual serotonin boost had failed to kick in. He did his usual push routine in silence, didn’t even bother to put his headphones on. He sat on the bench press for a while, gathering his breath.

He didn’t even realize Jungkook was standing behind him until he raised his gaze, catching a glimpse of his friend in the mirror.

“Energy bar?” Jungkook said, offering a peanut butter and chocolate bar.

Mingyu looked at his friend’s face, who wiggled his eyebrows upon eye contact. “Thanks, man,” he said, grabbing the bar.

“Did you fall out of bed?” Jungkook said, sitting down on the bench next to Mingyu’s.

When Mingyu arched an eyebrow in question, Jungkook pointed a finger to his own eyes, just below. “You look like hell,” he said.

Mingyu forced a nod. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Jungkook took a bite from his bar. “You alright?”

Mingyu gave a non-answer shrug.

Jungkook arched the pierced eyebrow, but didn’t press. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees while he enjoyed another bite from his energy bar.

The silence sat between them, and for a minute, it meant nothing. But Mingyu’s head was loud with dark thoughts, and the best part of him, his self-control, waned at the moment he blinked, seeing you walking with another man in his mind’s eye.

“You talk to her lately?” Mingyu asked with a raspy tone. As though he had been screaming in silence for hours. 

Jungkook raised his head, his brow furrowing deeply. “Who?”

Mingyu didn’t answer.

And Jungkook’s mouth dropped open in acknowledgement. “Oh,” he nodded. “Right. No?”

Mingyu stared at the floor, his finger outlining the corner of his unopened energy bar. “Have you two been hanging out lately?”

Jungkook deadpanned to him. “Uh, no. Not really.”

Mingyu nodded, but the answer didn’t satisfy him. Jealousy, anguish, and something dark roused inside his chest. And before he could stop it, he was already uttering the words: “Are you seeing her?”

Jungkook gaped, staring at Mingyu like he was waiting for the joke to drop. “What?” he finally blurted. “No, man.”

Mingyu shook his head, trying to discard the heavy thoughts clouding his mind. He ran a hand down his face, accidentally wiping the cold sweat on his forehead. “Forget it,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“I’m not seeing her,” Jungkook repeated, his voice even. “We’re just friends. That’s it.”

Mingyu just gave him another nod. “Right.”

Jungkook arched an eyebrow. “Are you okay, man?” he asked. “Do you need to talk?”

Mingyu didn’t answer. The weight of how he’d been behaving was catching up to him. He shook his head, rising from the bench. “I’m sorry,” he said, not making eye contact with his friend. “Thanks for the bar. Catch you later.”

Then he walked toward the locker room, grabbed his bag and walked out of the gym with a quick step. Between the shame, the remorse and the jealousy still brimming inside him, one feeling overpowered him: regret.

The spot was mostly empty.

It was still early, but it was evident that it was going to be a nice, calm shift for the rest of the night.

And thank God it was going to be a quiet shift. Kim Mingyu needed that right now. He needed peace to think. Even though his thoughts weren’t as peaceful.

So, it wasn’t Jungkook.

He pulled out his phone, the pad of his thumb hovering over your name for a second. But no, he couldn't. He didn’t have the right to ask. 

He leaned back against the counter, assessing the activity at the bar. He felt ashamed, but the feeling wasn’t bigger than the anxiety threatening to punch a hole in his heart.

He tried to relieve the tightening feeling in his chest by letting out a big sigh. It didn’t help.

Seungcheol was sitting at one of the stools, which was one of the places he sits whenever he needs to be handed things from the register. Seungcheol was typing on his phone, but keeping an eye on his bartenders and the waitress… who happened to be his girlfriend too.

“Boss,” Mingyu called softly, biting the dead skin from his bottom lip.

“Mm,” Seungcheol replied, not looking at him.

“Could I take the day off on Sunday?” he asked, turning to face Seungcheol. He planted his elbows on the counter.

Wonwoo stopped what he was doing, lifting his head to listen to the conversation.

“What’s the occasion now?” Seungcheol asked, lowering his phone.

“I need to talk to someone,” Mingyu said, aware that Wonwoo was listening to the conversation now.

“And you need the whole day off to do that?” Seungcheol arched one perfect eyebrow. Then he muffled a laugh. “Oh, are you saying that you’re going to talk with someone?” he emphasized, making the word sound more than it meant.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but a wave of embarrassment washed over him. “No, boss. I truly need to talk. I don’t know how much time it’s going to take me.”

Seungcheol paused, his dark eyes analyzing the situation briefly. The look on Mingyu’s face must’ve told him something that he wasn’t expressing with words. “Something wrong?” Seungcheol asked quietly. “Did something happen?”

Mingyu straightened, now realizing that he might’ve exacerbated the situation with the worried look on his face and the ominous way he was requesting his day off. “No, hyung—” he cut himself off with a sigh. “Everything’s good, well, as good as it could be.”

Seungcheol frowned, but then it dawned on him, his mouth dropping. “Is this about the girl you were seeing?”

Mingyu blinked, giving him a tiny nod.

Wonwoo lowered the glass he was pretending to clean. The world had stopped for him, but nobody noticed that. Nobody was aware of the way the air disappeared from his lungs, and he was thankful for once for his capacity for keeping a straight face. And honestly, nobody seemed to pay attention to him at all. 

“Didn’t you break things with her a while ago?” Seungcheol asked innocently, clasping his hands beneath his chin. “What happened now?”

Mingyu had a special connection with Seungcheol. Always had it. But ever since he broke up with Gigi, Mingyu had formed a stronger bond with him. Seungcheol understood him better than anyone, given his past and tumultuous experience with love.  

“I saw her,” Mingyu said quietly, driving his gaze to the ceiling. “She was with another guy.”

Wonwoo blinked, straightening his back as he asked, “When?”

Mingyu looked at his best friend briefly, not noticing the change in tone. “Yesterday.”

Seungcheol made an expression, a downturned smile, his eyebrows pinching softly. “What were they doing?”

Mingyu shook his head lightly. “Nothing. Just walking, talking.”

“They were just talking?” Seungcheol huffed, shrugging slightly. “That doesn’t mean anything. It could be her cousin. A friend.”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu shrugged, his expression still riddled with anxiety. “It didn’t look like he was a friend, you know?”

“Did you see his face?” Seungcheol asked.

“No,” Mingyu shook his head. “I couldn’t see. I just saw her and I—” he cut himself off with a sigh, running a hand down his face.

“Why are you so conflicted about this?” Seungcheol asked with genuine curiosity.

Mingyu lifted his face from his palm. “Hyung, if you’d broken up with your girl but wanted her back and then saw her with some new guy, how would you feel?”

Seungcheol’s gaze darkened for a split second. “Like hell,” he conceded. “But I’d know that she owes me nothing. If I had broken up with her, then I’d know she’s free to move on.”

Seungcheol spoke from a real experience, and this was part of why Mingyu had asked him for guidance. And Seungcheol’s words rang with truth and certainty, but they still didn’t make Mingyu see it. The thought of someone else knowing the sound of your laugh, your voice in the mornings—it made him feel sick.

“Look, you have the day off on Sunday,” Seungcheol said after a long minute. “But don’t be one of those weird guys who only chase one girl because she’s moved on with another guy. It isn’t a nice look.”

“No, I’m—I want to apologize,” Mingyu replied, but then he blinked for a long second. 

“Can’t you text her?” Seungcheol arched his eyebrow again. Then he huffed a laugh. “I mean, if you think she’s moved on, then your apology isn’t needed, right?”

Seungcheol had hit the bullseye. Mingyu flinched, his jealousy returning ten times stronger. But maybe she hasn’t moved on, a crazy voice in his head needed to refute. Maybe what he saw didn’t mean a thing.

“I fucked up,” Mingyu mumbled softly, looking down at his hands. “And I want her back, I can’t just text her that.”

Seungcheol sighed, blinking slowly. “Are you asking for my advice?”

Mingyu gnawed on his bottom lip, nodding shyly.

Seungcheol lowered his phone on the counter, placing his palms flat on it too. “If you want her back, fight for her, but do it right. Show her that you are ready for whatever it is you both need in a relationship. Ask yourself, why do you want her? Why do you think you’re good for her? Why is she good for you?”

There was a long moment between them that stretched for some seconds before Seungcheol nodded, happy with his assessment. “I’ll leave you that for homework,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Now get back to work.”

Seungcheol was right, you were free to do whatever you wanted. If you were starting to go out with another man, then he would have to accept it.

What remained a calm shift for Mingyu was the total opposite for Wonwoo.

The tight feeling coiling around his throat was making it hard for him to breathe.

Mingyu had seen him and you. It was over. He needed to come clean. He needed to tell Mingyu about the night that started it all—his affair with you, and eventually everything that led to this point.

For the remainder of the shift, Wonwoo said nothing, feeling like whatever he said right now could come back to make him look bad. Or worse—a hypocrite. He knew now that he was entering an even more dangerous territory than before, and he needed to play his cards right.

When it was time for closing up, Wonwoo finished his usual tasks quickly—keeping his thoughts to himself usually led him to work faster. So when he sat alone in his old Hyundai, waiting for Mingyu, he thought of what to say.

He hated this.

There was usually no contempt in his heart. He understood that it was his fault that put him in this position, between Mingyu and you.

But he hated that Mingyu figured out what he wanted after he walked away. And not even that, he had multiple opportunities to walk back into your life, but never took them.

And now that Mingyu saw you’d moved on, now he wants to reclaim you? Fight harder for you?

Wonwoo hated that he kissed you so soon after you and Mingyu stopped seeing each other. Timing mattered so much. If things had happened just a few weeks later, maybe none of this would feel so sticky.

Maybe he wouldn’t have started to hope. To fall for you.

But he had.

And now Mingyu was talking about wanting you back. About regrets.

But Mingyu wasn’t there to see you cry.

Wonwoo was the one who was there with you the night you felt like you weren’t enough. Like you were someone to discard after being used. Mingyu wasn’t there to see the aftermath of his choices.

And maybe it was Wonwoo’s fault for falling for you. When he started talking to you, he hadn’t meant for this to happen. But it had. He fell for you. That was something he couldn’t take back because that was the truth.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if it was guilt or rage crawling beneath his skin. Guilt for hiding the truth from Mingyu. Rage because Mingyu realized he wanted you again only after losing you.

Mingyu opened the door to the car, climbing into the passenger seat with a sigh. “Let’s go,” he said tiredly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Wonwoo said quietly.

Mingyu paused, setting his backpack on his lap. “Sure, what’s up?” 

“You had so many chances to walk back into her life,” he said. “Why now?”

Mingyu blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You told me so many times you wanted to call her, text her, but you never did,” he shrugged, keeping his tone calm. “So why now?”

Mingyu sat back on the seat. “I just didn’t feel ready, you know?” he replied, pouting slightly. “I felt like I would only mess up things more.”

“So you’re ready now?” Wonwoo asked softly, his heart beating rapidly, robbing him of the ability to breathe easily.

Mingyu chewed on his lip, giving it careful thought before nodding. “Like I said the last time we talked about this—I want her back.”

“And that last time you said you didn’t know what you were doing,” Wonwoo reminded him. He didn’t raise his tone, but struggled to keep it light. “So now, what is it? You saw her with someone else and changed your mind?”

Mingyu straightened. “No, it’s not like that. I know that’s how it looks like but it’s not like that.”

Wonwoo blinked, still trying to get Mingyu’s side of things.

But something was missing.

“Then explain it to me,” Wonwoo said. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fighting for her once you saw her with another guy. Something you weren’t ready for the first time. Remember? You told me you weren’t all in.”

Mingyu lowered his gaze. “It’s because of Gigi.”

Wonwoo frowned, something inside him stirring with rage again. But he kept it under control. “What does Gigi have to do with all of this?” 

But Mingyu’s gaze was lost, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his backpack anxiously. “I never told you. She cheated on me. With her boss. She did it for weeks while she was still with me.”

Wonwoo went rigid and cold with a powerful shudder. The rage simmering inside him fell quiet too. “What? How?”

Mingyu sighed, blinking slowly. “She would tell me she had these important meetings that extended until late. And I never thought too much about it because she was just promoted. I thought she was just excited and working hard. But… the things she used to say and do weren’t just making sense anymore—like staying up all night working, or going to work on weekends.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard, something deeper than guilt and regret boiling deep inside him as he watched his best friend’s lip quiver, his gaze turned to his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his apology heavy with significance.

“Yeah,” Mingyu whispered, shrugging slightly. “At least her mean attitude towards me made it easier to break up with her, you know?” he smiled bitterly. “But I never told anyone. I was ashamed.”

Wonwoo held his breath, suddenly remembering something. “But you told her.”

He remembered the day he saw you in that cafeteria. “I knew what I was getting myself into”, you had said. And Wonwoo always sat with the thought that you meant that you knew Mingyu was looking for fun. For something casual.

But now, it made sense.

Mingyu nodded. “I thought I was past it when I met her. I thought I could be with someone new and start fresh. But I couldn’t,” he muttered, his voice breaking at the last part of the sentence. “I kept waiting for something to go wrong. I kept thinking I was going to fuck things up. And I thought I was making the right choice—ending things before I hurt her.”

Wonwoo just stared at him. Completely stunned. Something in his chest shifted. “You left because you were scared.”

Mingyu nodded. “And I hated myself for it.”

The silence inside the car was heavy with reluctance. Wonwoo didn’t know what to do or what to say. His heart was even more conflicted than it was before.

“Seeing her with someone else made me go insane,” Mingyu confessed with a bitter laugh, looking out the window in utter shame. “I know that I lost her. I let her go. And I don’t know if I can get her back now.”

Wonwoo looked down at his lap, his hands fidgeting with the keys of his car. Now his decision to tell Mingyu was even more uncertain. Because the one thing he’d told himself to justify how close he’d gotten to you was that Mingyu had used you as a temporary fix.

And now he realized that wasn’t even true anymore.

“Hey,” Wonwoo whispered, waiting for Mingyu to lift his gaze back to him. “I’m sorry I doubted you. And I’m sorry about what happened with Gigi. You never deserved that.”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t know,” Mingyu shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. “This whole thing is a fucking mess.”

Wonwoo sighed. “You’re right about that,” he said, lifting a hand to palm Mingyu’s shoulder.

He turned the engine on, and the drive back home was quiet, dedicated to reflecting.

Inevitably, Wonwoo thought about you. Even though he got an insight into Mingyu’s story, he couldn’t help but think that you were hurt about this too. Knowing now that Mingyu got cheated on changed things for Wonwoo. It made him feel even more guilty.

But it still didn’t move his feelings for you.

He parked outside the building, and Mingyu geared up to climb out of the car.

“You go, I have to make a call,” Wonwoo explained softly.

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “Are you going to tell me about this… mysterious person you’re seeing?” he grinned.

Wonwoo’s heart twisted painfully. “Yeah, one day,” he replied, forcing a smile on his face.

“Right. See you, then,” Mingyu said, understanding that Wonwoo's “calling” someone meant something else.

He obviously didn’t suspect that it was you Wonwoo was calling.

Wonwoo turned the engine off, palming the steering wheel with a sigh.

The next movements were performed mechanically. As though everything in his body was refusing to get to your door, but he had to push himself to do it. He’d texted you beforehand, so you were already waiting for him at the door when he knocked two times.

You opened the door, stepping aside for him to come in. There was a subtle air surrounding you when he stepped into your apartment, as though you already knew what was going on. He’d tell you he was coming to yours to talk about something. Didn’t mention what. 

“Hi,” he said softly, now knowing what to do with his body.

He wanted to hug you, to feel your arms circle him as he walked in—to kiss you like real lovers did.

“Hey there,” you mumbled sweetly.

Wonwoo blinked slowly, letting out the words you already knew he’d say. “We need to talk.”

Your shoulders slacked a little. You had been hoping this moment wouldn’t arrive, but you nodded bravely. “Did something happen?” you asked first, your eyebrows knitting softly in worry.

Wonwoo nodded, carefully removing his shoes and leaving them by the entrance. You motioned silently to the couch, and he followed you there. You sat by one end, far apart from him, to look in his face.

He sighed softly, turning on his seat so he could also look at you. “Mingyu knows.”

You held your breath, your eyes outlining the features of his face cautiously. “How did he find out?” you asked, then a pause. “Did you tell him?”

Wonwoo shook his head, not finding it offensive that you’d think he would tell Mingyu before consulting with you first. “That’s the thing, he doesn’t know it’s me. He just saw us the other day.”

Perplexion hardened the features of your face, making it hard to muster up a reaction. “Okay,” you mumbled, feeling lost. “Do you think is a good idea to tell him?” you asked, looking at the features of his face.   

You understood that Mingyu was Wonwoo’s best friend. His roommate and coworker, things were complicated already. But there was something else tensing the air between you and Wonwoo.

He tilted his head to one side, licking his lips as though lost for words. “He was outside your building when he saw us,” he started explaining, and your heart jolted at the sound of those words. “He was here to talk to you.”

“Why?” The word fell quietly from your lips.

You could tell that he was trying to say the next words carefully, but there was no way he could hold their impact: “He was here to ask you for a second chance,” he mumbled gently, but even his eyes glinted with sadness.

“What?” You blurted, feeling like you were being played some kind of joke.

Wonwoo understood you well. But this was the first time he felt outright confused by your reaction. “I didn’t know his ex cheated on him,” he said, reading your reaction.

You blinked in surprise, breath catching in your throat. You knew Mingyu hadn’t revealed this part of the story to anyone out of shame. And your reaction told Wonwoo that you were already aware of this.

“And not knowing this gave me the wrong impression when he broke things with you,” he continued, blinking away from your face. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the icky feeling building up. “I thought he’d used you. Regretted it later.”

“Well, you’re technically not wrong there,” you said with a stiff, bitter laugh.

But then Wonwoo gave you a look. One that had a million words but just one sentiment, like saying, the truth will only break your heart. A pause—choosing to go forward with it or just holding it back.

“I don’t think he did,” he whispered, struggling to get the words out. “At least not on purpose.”

It was as though you were plunged back in time. Back to the basketball court. You were sitting on those damn bleachers, looking at Mingyu, his tortured face as he told you he needed to cut things off with you. You blinked hard, sighing out the pain constricting your chest.

He regretted cutting things off with you. He wanted a second chance.

You looked around, fingers shaking slightly when you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Have a glass of wine with me,” you said, feeling breathless.

Wonwoo stopped, but then he saw the look on your face. He allowed himself to really see it this time. You looked tense, and he could see in your eyes that you were ready to cry. “Sure,” he replied, keeping an eye on you.

You rose to your feet, getting the bottle of wine you had stashed in the kitchen cabinet. Mingyu knows, the thought echoed inside your head, creating a painful ripple in your heart. You sniffled, harder this time, as you searched for the bottle opener.

Wonwoo stood up the moment he heard you sob, concern taking over him as you tried to push yourself through opening the bottle. You stuck the corkscrew, twisting it as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, but you held them there.

He brought a hand to your shoulder, trying to call your attention back to him, to snap you out of the task you were so determined to get done without crying.

But you ignored his hand, pulling the corkscrew out successfully. “I need two glasses,” you mumbled, almost as if you were talking to yourself.

“Hey,” Wonwoo called softly, but you turned around, opening the other cabinet as you searched for a glass of wine.

“I only have one glass for wine,” you said, your voice already constipated due to all the tears you were trying to hold back. You set the glass down. “I’ll use a mug.”

Wonwoo sighed, grabbing the bottle and pushing it aside as you were turning around with a mug in your hand. “Stop,” he said, taking a step closer towards you.

“What?” you snapped, lifting your head to face him.

“Stop for a second,” he mumbled with a gentler tone this time. “Let’s talk about this.”

You blinked slowly, letting go of a pair of big tears. “I don’t have anything to say.”

Then you turned, grabbing the bottle of wine to pour half of it in the large mug you’d pulled out.

“You’re using alcohol as an outlet,” he blurted, trying to bring some sense to you.

“So what?” you replied heedlessly, taking a big gulp. You sniffled with a hint of annoyance, using your hands to brush your tears away. “I’m tired of crying,” you gasped, burying your face in your hands.

Wonwoo’s heart jolted painfully, his eyebrows knitting in worry. “There’s nothing wrong with crying. It’s completely normal,” he replied.

“No, it’s not!” You said, your voice breaking mid-sentence. “I’m tired of this. And it’s not getting better!” You lifted your face from your hands. “I’m not getting better.”

He blinked at you, feeling perplexed. There were no words to make you see that you’d been getting better, at least to him. There was a spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before, you were laughing more, and you were eager to do things again.

The fact was, you were trying to get better. Every day, you challenged yourself to push yourself forward. But, something or someone always ruined things for you. Your shitty ex, Mingyu’s indecisiveness, and now…

Wonwoo’s heart caved in. If he hadn’t given in to his feelings and kissed you that night, you wouldn’t be crying right now. This was his fault. He could’ve walked away after kissing you, but no—he slept with you, allowing you to become the subject of every waking thought he had.

He was in love with you. But caught now in a predicament. One that had no pretty outcome.

You lowered your head, sniffling quietly as you held onto the counter. Wonwoo blinked, the image before him becoming reminiscent of the night he kissed you for the first time.

You’d been getting better, yes. But it was the people around you who were stopping you at each step you made.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

You stilled, processing the words for a moment. “What? Why?” You asked, lifting your head to find his gaze.

“I’m making things worse for you,” he explained with a pained tone. “Listen, I can deal with Mingyu, tell him about us if you want me to. But I don’t want this to hurt you anymore.” 

You frowned, thrown back by his words. “You-you’re—” you stammered, then paused to take a breath. “What are you saying?”

“If I’m making things difficult for you, I should step back,” he told you stiffly, as though holding his true feelings just to do the right thing for you.

You let out a tiny gasp, understanding dawning on you. “No, I don’t want you to leave,” you told him, and then, with a fragile tone, “Please don’t leave.”

His heart rested easy at the sound of your pleas.

When you and Wonwoo started… whatever your relationship was, he knew that he was the rebound. There was no need for either of you to say it. You were hurting, alone, and he was there to pick up the pieces.

But your relationship had evolved into something more. And there was no way either of you could’ve stopped it. There was an inexplicable connection between you that wasn’t just based on sexual synergy. You trusted Wonwoo—to the extent that you had found more than comfort in him.

He didn’t move. If he stayed, then he would owe Mingyu a bigger explanation. Because one thing was to be with you because he thought that he was being your rebound. But it was different to be with you, knowing full well that Mingyu—his best friend—still loved you.

He hated to be between you and Mingyu.

Why did he have to lose one of you to have a resolve?

You saw the stiffness of his posture, the hesitation in him. You took one careful step towards him, your teary eyes searching his face. “I-if you want to go, I won’t stop you. But don’t go because you think you’re doing what’s best for me.”

His eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and confusion. He asked himself when was the moment he lost control. Would it have been the moment you kissed you for the first time? Because looking into your eyes, he was sure it was much earlier.

Silence stretched between you, and real fear began to show in your eyes. You held your breath, gearing up to hear him say that he couldn’t do this anymore. Gearing up to watch him walk away from you. Like everyone always did. 

It always happened. You should just be getting used to it by now.

“I don’t think I want to leave,” he finally said, his tone dejected in a way that only told you this decision was hard for him.

You met his gaze again. Wonwoo had made his choice. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his heart was racing, but you could see the quiet resolve on his face.

His features softened. “We need to come clean,” he told you. “We have to tell Mingyu. And I think the best way to do it is if I tell him.”

You nodded slowly, and the heavy weight in your chest became more unbearable. “And then what?”

He stilled, knowing what you meant. “Whatever you decide to do. When we come down to it.”

You took in a deep breath, lowering your gaze. Wonwoo’s hand was planted on the counter, a few inches from yours. You slid your hand across, sheepishly touching his fingers slowly at first.

Wonwoo turned his hand over, tangling his fingers with yours. He stared at your linked hands for a second, as you brushed the back of his hand with the pad of your thumb. “I don’t want you to feel pressured by this.”

You huffed with a hint of bitterness. “Too late for that,” you whispered.

Wonwoo showed you a sad smile. He felt your soft fingers playing with his, wishing he could get an opportunity to turn things around. “You know, when you asked me if I wished things happened differently between us, I said sometimes?” he whispered, looking at your hand locked in his.

“Yeah?” you raised your head, looking at his eyes, but he kept them lowered.

He licked his lips, pressing them into a line. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances,” he muttered, his tone quivering slightly.

You held your breath, your heart stammering wildly. “Why?” you asked softly.

He raised his gaze, locking it with yours. “So I would’ve been able to ask you out, get to know you without fear or prejudice about what might happen.”

And fall in love with you without feeling so guilty about it.

Wonwoo was wrong about one thing. He knew he wasn’t a romantic man. He was never one for theatrics or big displays of love. But one thing hit him. No, Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t a romantic man. He was a devoted one.

You lowered your face. “That would’ve been lovely,” you said.

He removed his hand from yours so he could cup your face with his hands, forcing your gaze to him. “But whatever happens, I want you to know that I don’t regret us.”

A sob tore through you. “I don’t regret it either,” you admitted.

It was complicated. To love two people at once. To sit with the fact that choosing one will break the other. But no matter how much you wished things had happened differently, you didn’t regret meeting Mingyu, nor Wonwoo.

Wonwoo leaned forward, and you met him halfway in a brief kiss. Feeling his lips on yours was liberating in a way. Despite everything that was happening, you felt alive in every kiss of his. At least for one more night.

He slipped his hands from your face to your neck, grabbing it gently as he continued making out with you. The kiss was growing more and more demanding, his tongue brushing yours, his lips making a smacking noise against yours every time either of you moved.

You back away slightly, and he understood you wanted to pause, leaning his forehead against yours. “Are you staying tonight?” you asked, your tone quivering slightly.

“Do you want me to?”

You cupped his cheek with your hand, brushing his skin with the pad of your thumb. “Yeah. Always,” you whispered.

“Then ask me to stay,” he replied in kind.

“Please stay the night,” you told him, breaking away from him to look him in the eyes.

Wonwoo smiled softly. “Okay,” he said, using his hands that were on your neck to bring you in for another kiss.

You hummed into the kiss, unable to do anything but give in to it. You loved it. His kiss was always captivating, he was gentle in his touch, but rough enough to make you feel how much he needed you.

And he did. Ever since he kissed you for the first time, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind.

But he liked it.

Your hand found his chest, getting a feel of the muscle definition between his pecs through his t-shirt. His breath hitched, the sound soft but noticeable as he kept kissing you. But your hand kept travelling further down, feeling the lines and dents between the muscles of his abdomen, and his breathing shifted.

Your fingers sneaked beneath his t-shirt, feeling his skin. You planted your hand on the lower part of his torso, the pads of your thumb brushing against the soft hairs of his happy trail.

Wonwoo broke away with a loud smacking noise of his lips and yours. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and so low.

“So what?” you replied, this time your voice was honeyed and low like a purr. “If I continue like this, I might get what I want.”

“What do you want?” he asked, shuddering slightly when your hand moved up his torso, making its way back to his chest, but now underneath his clothes.

“I want you, Wonwoo,” you whispered. Then something invaded you, and you knew what it was. The same reason why you resorted to drinking whenever you felt like reality was the bitterest thing you’ve ever had.

Wonwoo made things easier. He made you feel alive.

“Then take me,” he whispered back, tilting his head slightly, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. “Tell me how you want me, baby.”

Your entire body was shaking, brimming with so much need that you felt like combusting. Part of you felt alarmed, pathetic. Wanting him so much was becoming your addiction.

But you didn’t care.

You loved it when he fucked you, hard and deep. But this time… this time you wanted to please him.

“I want to make you feel good,” you told him, leaning your face to kiss him.

But he pulled back, making you chase his lips. “How?”

You stopped for a second, backing away to look at his face. You tilted your head to one side, aware of his hands on your neck. “Just relax while I make you feel good, hm?” you said with a sweet tone.

Wonwoo laughed softly, closing the space between his lips and yours with a sweet kiss. “Yes, ma’am,” he breathed.

You took his hand, removing it from your neck to pull him towards the couch, debating in your head as to how to start doing this. There were so many things you wanted to do, but reminiscing about the last time you both had sex, there was one thing you hadn’t gotten the chance to do.

You started to remove his clothes, one by one, without pausing to admire his body yet. That was something you’d do later. But first, you needed to get him naked.

And he didn’t question you, he just helped you as you struggled to get his jeans off, or when you removed his t-shirt and messed up his glasses, and he laughed, placing them back on the bridge of his nose. He noticed you were nervous, but didn’t say a word about it.

Because when you finally got every single item of clothes off, you could get to do what you were fantasizing about since the last night he fucked you.

But first, you explored his bare body, running your palms from his chest to his abdomen, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. And he reciprocated the kiss, touching your lips tenderly at first.

“Don’t I get to take your clothes off?” he whispered, but to you, it sounded like the sexiest thing he could say.

“If you want to,” you whispered back.

“Of course I do,” he said, his fingers fumbling with the hem of your t-shirt, which you wore to sleep. So he knew what he was going to find when he took it off. And that was that you wore no bra, and his hands could explore your skin freely.

He didn’t stop kissing you, his hands roving on your skin, feeling the deep line of your back before circling back to your chest. A moan was muffled in his lips when he started cupping your tits, his fingers playing with your nipples, teasing them and making your walls clench around nothing.

“Do you know how much I love these?” he said, his tone waning a little over the pleasure he felt just from touching you.

“You do?” you asked sultrily, looking at his face while his hands played with your tits.

He breathed in deeply, nodding as his hands squeezed them gently, the tips of his fingers dipping onto your soft skin.

You closed your eyes, shuddering slightly when his thumbs brushed over your pebbled nipples once more. He slipped his hands down, then to your lower back, to pull you closer, your chest pressed to his.

“Take these off,” he whispered, lifting the elastic band of your sweatpants and letting it slap back against your skin. You pushed the sweatpants, letting them drop to the floor and stepped out of them, kicking them aside.

You darted a look at his eyes, then his lips. “Can I suck you off?”

“You don’t have to ask,” he smirked slightly. “I’m all yours.”

A tiny gasp escaped your lips before you pressed them against his, kissing him swiftly once before pulling away from him. Then, you meekly turned around, grabbed a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the floor, just between your feet and his.

Wonwoo watched you, a ghost of a smile on his face as you sank to your knees, using the cushion as support. You looked back up, he was using his hand to put his glasses back in place, his thumb and index finger touching the black rim of his glasses carefully.

God, he’s so hot and unaware of how much that turns you on, you thought as you let your body rule you, taking his hard cock in your hand, fingers circling its shaft. You felt his eyes on you as you pulled your tongue out, giving him a long and generous stroke from the base to the tip of his cock. You glided the tip of your tongue around his cockhead, tracing a circle before wrapping your mouth around it and started to suck.

But you were just teasing him a little, before you got to suck him off. You pulled your mouth back, letting your lips smack loudly around the head, and then teased him again with broad strokes, letting your spit cover his shaft completely, messily.

Your lashes were lowered, so you didn’t see his reaction, but you heard it—he breathed in loudly, letting a deep groan resound in his chest. You could almost picture him, clenching his jaw, closing his eyes.

A hand came to the side of your head, his lithe fingers tangling in your hair just lightly. That’s when you dared to look up—your gaze locking with his immediately. Wonwoo caressed your cheek with his thumb, bringing his other hand to match the other, now grabbing your head.

You let your mouth relax, gliding it back and forth on his cock. Wonwoo parted his lips, blinking slowly at the image of his cock inside your mouth, your pretty lips around it.

“A-ah, fuck,” he whispered slowly, sighing through it. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You rolled your tongue around his cockhead, making him moan as you pushed him back in as far as you could.

But he was big, and you struggled every time he reached the back of your mouth. You pulled your mouth back, hollowing out your cheeks and making obscenely lewd sounds with your lips around him.

You got more and more aroused with the sounds he made, which he tried to keep quiet and in check. His throat bobbed every time he tried not to moan, but he shuddered, sighed, and bit his bottom lip, making you repeat everything that made him do those things.

“I’m close, baby,” he said with a hint of urgency, grabbing your head to pull back gently.

A string of drool hung between your mouth and the tip of his cock. He was completely covered with your spit, from the tip to the hilt, and it seemed insane to you for a second that the sight of it made you even more aroused. A shudder ran from your nape to your lower back.

“I want to keep going,” you said, glancing at his eyes.

“If we keep going, I’ll cum in your mouth,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. The tips of his ears were red, as though the act made him feel shy, embarrassed that he couldn’t last longer while he was in your mouth.

“What if I want that?” you asked slowly, also feeling shy as you said the words.

He debated it for a second. But you knew he would give in. The tip of his cock was swollen, and red, its shaft slick with your spit and the thick vein that trailed to his base was also flared.

You ran a finger from his happy trail to the lower part of his shaft and then looked into his eyes. “Do you want to fuck my mouth, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed hard, the features of his face shifting and hardening slightly. “Open your mouth,” he instructed, his hands tightening his grip around your hair without pulling it.

You opened your mouth for him, letting your tongue hang slightly as you locked eyes with him.

He rested the first couple of inches of his cock on your tongue, his thumb pressing on your temple just slightly. “Take a deep breath for me, baby,” he said with a low rasp. 

You blinked, but out of the euphoric feeling that rushed down your spine. You breathed through your nose deeply, and it was when you exhaled that he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, starting to fuck it with slow, tentative thrusts.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, watching you take him almost to the hilt. “You take me so well.”

You held onto his hips, feeling his muscles tense and shift as he pushed in and out of your mouth. His mouth went slack, his eyelids falling heavy as he let out a raw moan.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

His strokes were still slow, but each time you took him deeper, gagging softly when he started to reach the back of your mouth.

“Breathe, baby,” he reminded you. “You’re doing so good, just breathe. That’s it, that’s it,” he tilted his head back, pushing his cock deeper, and deeper.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, which he caught quickly with the pads of his thumbs. Keeping your head angled for him as he continued fucking your mouth slowly. The pleasure on his face was evident—his mouth was parted, his breaths were laboured, blinking slowly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered hurriedly, pulling his cock back from your throat but keeping it in your mouth. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, baby—” he sighed, deeply, his chest heaving as he started moaning repeatedly.

Spurts of cum landed on the back of your tongue, warm and abundant, almost making you cough and choke. But you swallowed every last drop of it, looking at him through your teary eyelashes.

He was panting, a complete mess of tired moans and half-babbles. “So good,” was one thing you could make out.

He pulled out of your mouth gently, letting you breathe and swallow back the taste of him. You raised your gaze, catching his as he lowered himself to his knees.

“Lie back, baby,” he said, motioning to the floor behind you.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“Let me repay in kind,” he mumbled, trapping your lips with his in a swift kiss. He hummed, kissing you again but deeper, his tongue rolling inside your mouth, and obviously tasting himself.

“I’m good,” you whispered. “You must be tired.”

“I said,” he pushed your shoulder with one hand. “Lie back.”

You giggled, following his words without anything else to say. You looked at him as he moved the cushion aside, his hands moving to grab the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs.

Then he crawled on top of you, pressing his body on yours, but without lowering his full weight on you. “You were so good, baby,” he praised, his tone low and gentle at the same time.

You slipped your hands on his nape, pulling him for a long kiss, feeling his tongue with yours, his lips fitting in yours so well. It was like you were meant for each other.

He paused, pulling away from your lips for a second. You watched him as he grabbed his glasses by one of the temples, pulling them on in one complete motion. “Hold these for me?”

You nodded, exchanging a quick look with him as you grabbed his glasses by the rim, folding them in your hand as he moved on your body. He made a trail of kisses, pressing his lips on your cheek, your jawline, the crook of your neck.

And when he reached your chest, his hands cupped your tits again, but now squeezing them a little harder as he kissed the swell of your chest, humming against your skin. You moaned, grabbing a fistful of hair, when the tip of his tongue swirled around one of your nipples.

The sensation of his wet tongue against your nipples made your pussy clench again, having you close your thighs instinctively. “Wonwoo,” you moaned with urgency.

He made no verbal reply, instead, he continued to descend with his trail of kisses. He kissed your tummy, his hands leaving your chest and caressing your torso, feeling the curve of your waist and pressing on your hips.

He planted open-mouthed kisses on your lower tummy, wetting his lips before he suckled on your skin.

You flinched. “Wonwoo!” You gasped, lifting your head to see him suck a new spot on your skin, marking you with hickeys.

But he paid no attention to the warning in your tone. He kissed your mound, your thighs, leaving angry red spots scattered all over your skin.

You moaned pathetically as he marked your inner thighs, leaving a tingling sensation all over your skin. You called his name one more time, his breath fanning on your sensitive skin, making you sigh a moan.

“Please…” you whispered, swallowing hard as he kissed the top of your mound.

And then he slipped his tongue between your pussy lips, bringing two fingers to part your folds, licking you thoroughly, covering your pussy with his kisses, licking and nipping just to tease you.

You felt like you were slowly going insane. He was practically making out with your pussy, tasting and drinking you in—but never quite doing what he knew made you cum.

“Wonwoo, please,” you mewled, closing your eyes and tightening your hand around his hair. “Just, make me cum.”

He hummed against your pussy, as though acknowledging your plea but not really caring about it.

So you begged.

“Please, please, please, Wonwoo,” you said, trying to buckle your hips against his mouth, but he pushed you back down onto the floor effortlessly.

You gasped, feeling his tongue circling your clit, but then sliding it back to your entrance, dipping it just slightly inside your pussy. “God, fuck, Wonwoo, please,” you gasped.

He let out a sound. And after some seconds, it dawned on you that it had been a laugh.

“Babe, please!” you cried. And to add to it, you raked your fingernails on his scalp, pulling his hair harshly.

That did it. Wonwoo moaned into your pussy, giving into your plea and giving you exactly what you wanted.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, pushing his tongue against it and gently jabbing it from side to side, teasing it expertly.

You arched your back on the floor, your fingers twisting around his hair as you moaned loudly. “Fuck, Wonwoo, yes!” you gasped as pure pleasure bloomed inside you, from the pit of your stomach to your face. “Just like that, baby,” you said, with a high-pitched tone that sounded nothing like yourself.

But he didn’t relent, pleasuring and teasing your clit like his life depended on it. He didn’t switch the motion of his tongue, nor the pace, his breathing becoming notoriously more ragged against your skin.

“I’m close, I’m close, babe…” You said, writhing on the floor, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. “Don’t stop, please.”

And he didn’t, his tongue kept the same pattern until you couldn’t hold it anymore. Your eyes squeezed shut, seeing stars as waves of sweet, sweet pleasure washed over you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” you sighed, over and over, cumming on his mouth like you’d never before. Your orgasm was so brutal, so merciless that it had you shaking, panting and moaning desperately.

You signalled him to stop, patting his head softly.

Wonwoo let out a deep breath, resting his head on your tummy as he caught his breath.

“God, that was amazing,” you sighed, still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That felt so good.”

“Yeah?” he smiled tiredly. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Yeah…” you replied, about to say thank you to him, the thought making you laugh lightly.

“What’s that?” he asked, squinting a little.

“Nothing,” you sighed, feeling breathless still. But that didn’t stop you. You were still on a mission. “Sit back,” you told him suddenly.

“What?”

“Sit with your back against the couch.” You ordered, moving your body underneath him.

That made him lift his head from your tummy, pushing his body up with a sigh. “Okay,” he said slowly, following your command. “Can I have my glasses back?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you said with a light giggle.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, putting his glasses back on, blinking at you as you quite literally crawled up to him.

You held onto the couch behind him for support, crossing one leg on top of him, his hands instantly grabbing you by the hips as you straddled him.

“Are you ready for me, babe?” you asked, your tone honeyed and raspy at the same time.  

He blinked, his eyes finding your face. There was a twinge of surprise on his face that was quickly overpowered by a smile, spreading on his features slowly. “I like it when you call me babe,” he rasped, using his hands to sit you down on him.

You could feel his hard cock beside your thigh. “Yeah?” you smiled sweetly at him.

He nodded. “Drives me crazy,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss your lips tenderly.

“Hhmm,” you let out a sigh against his lips. “You drive me a little crazy,” you told him.

“I know,” he replied, giggling softly as you continued planting soft pecks on his lips.

“Oh, yeah?” you challenged, “How do you know?”

He brought one hand to your nape, kissing you deeper. “You’re about to ride my cock, baby,” he said with a playfulness masking his tone.

“My cock,” you said, pressing your lips on his again.

That robbed him of words, making him tilt his head to one side ever so slightly. “Oh, is that how it is?” he raised his eyebrows. “Your cock?”

You nodded. “You said you were all mine, so,” you giggled, moving your hips back and grabbing his cock with one hand.

His gaze darkened as he followed your movements, biting his lower lip as you slid the tip of his cock between your folds. A moan escaped your mouth when you felt just how wet you were, his cockhead practically gliding down to your entrance.

But his hand clenched around your hip. “I wanna hear you say it,” he rasped.

You paused, holding his gaze intently. It took you some seconds to realize. “You’re mine,” you whispered.

He closed his mouth, grinding his teeth as he nodded. “I’m yours,” he replied, watching you sit down on his cock.

“Is this cock mine too?” You gasped softly, not hiding the stinging in your eyes as his cock stretched your walls deliciously.

He swallowed hard, tilting his head back as you bottomed out on him. “All yours,” he breathed, blinking slowly.

“Mine,” you mumbled almost absentmindedly, the feeling of being so full of him overpowered everything else, making your mind go blank.

“Uh-huh,” he mouthed, his voice almost gone as you started bouncing on him. He watched you work, his hand still on your hip while the other circled your neck, the palm of his hand resting on your jugular.

His gaze fell on your lips, then trailed back to your eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered when you caught his eye.

You leaned over, kissing him softly as you kept riding him, moving your hips slowly, feeling him fully.

But it was becoming uncomfortable for your knees, even if you had a good support and the floor was better than the bed. You pulled one knee out, planting the sole of your foot on the floor for better support, swaying your hips on him effortlessly now.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” he instructed with a gentle tone, noticing that you were still holding onto the couch behind him.

You followed his words, switching your hands to his broad and lean shoulders. You looked at his face, his messy hair, and full lips, chapped from kissing you so many times.

“You’re beautiful too,” you told him.

He showed you a small smile, but said nothing else as he watched you fuck him. “You feel so good,” he mumbled, his tone raw and raspy as he swallowed hard.

“Yeah?” you sighed, bringing your hips up and down more arduously, the sound of skin slapping against his was now becoming more obvious to the neighbors. If it wasn't already obvious enough.

His hand remained on your neck, pulling you gently to kiss you, his lips trapping yours fervently.

You sighed heavily, out of both exhaustion and the urgency to cum. Fucking him like this made you feel fuller, his cock slipping inside you deeper each time you slammed your hips down on him.

But Wonwoo noticed, from the sound of your lewd and whiny gasps to the exhaustion in your face. “Stroke yourself,” he said.

You removed your hand from one of his shoulders, but before taking it between your thighs, you paused right before his mouth. Wonwoo watched you as your fingertips hovered before his lips for just one second before he took your fingers inside your mouth.

You moaned at both the sight and the feeling of his warm mouth around your fingers. You pulled them out once they were coated with his spit, and took them to your pussy. You started rubbing fast swirls around your clit, nearly screaming from the pleasure building inside you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, switching his hand from your neck to your hips, now both of his hands circling back to your ass, clenching gently, and helping you move on him.

The features of his face were riddled with pleasure, and he swallowed back his moans, clenching his jaw without removing his gaze from you. You knew he was close, but holding himself back for you.

There it was again, as you both looked in each other’s eyes, that electric feeling hung in the air between you. You were both moaning each other’s names, unable to look away or to do anything else but get more and more pleasure from each other’s bodies.

You loved him. You were addicted to him.

“You’re mine, baby,” he whispered, blinking slowly at you. “You’re fucking mine.”

Your mouth parted, letting out a whiny and high-pitched moan. “Wonwoo—”

He felt your body tremble, and he nodded. “Cum for me, baby,” he said. “That’s it, that’s it. Let go for me.”

Your head lolled back. Once again, the pleasure inside you overwhelmed you to the point that your mind went blank. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a series of loud moans, crying out his name as you bounced on his cock, cumming hard around him.

And he followed, unable to hold his orgasm once your pussy started to tighten around him. “Oh, god,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

His hands helped you ride him until you couldn’t do it anymore, your body going completely limp on top of him.

You were panting, sweaty, and a complete mess. And Wonwoo was too. He let his head rest back on the couch behind him, his cock buried deep inside you still.

Breathing hard, you leaned your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as you both came down from your high.

None of you said a word. Just let the peace blanket over you.

His hands caressed your back, his breath becoming more even. “Baby,” he mumbled after some minutes had passed. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

“Mmn,” you hummed against the curve of his neck, pressing a sweet kiss on his skin.

He flinched, laughing as your breath fanned against his skin. “Come on, baby,” he said, his tone heavy with tiredness.

“Okay,” you replied, pushing your body back.

You looked down, lifting your body just slightly before you felt it.

You were dripping wet. Cum spilled out before you could even lift your hips off Wonwoo’s cock. A light laugh slipped past your lips as you felt the warm liquid run down your inner thigh.

His hand sneaked between your thighs, stopping the cum from travelling further down. “Look at the mess you’re making,” he chastised, clicking his tongue sternly. But there was a playful look on his face as he glanced at you.

“Me?” you asked in faux disbelief. “It’s your mess. I didn’t know you were going to cum this much,” you giggled, cringing at the sound of your words.

Wonwoo laughed darkly. “You have a filthy mouth, babygirl,” he said, sticking his fingers coated with his cum inside your mouth without a warning.

You licked his fingers clean, your lips making a small popping sound as he pulled them out. “I may have a filthy mouth, but you seemed to love it like two minutes ago,” you said, biting back a smile.

His mouth dropped open, letting out a dramatic gasp. “Get up before I spank you silly.”

“Sounds like a good time to me,” you said, giggling as you got up, hurrying to the bathroom.

He followed you inside, practically chasing you. He trapped you in his arms, making you squeal and giggle as his hands clenched around very sensitive parts of your waist.

“You’re very naughty,” he said, but there was a slight hint of cuteness aggression marking the features of his face.

“You like me anyway,” you snapped, trying to get to the shower tap, which you turned once it was within your reach.  

“I do,” he whispered, his gaze falling to your lips.

You stilled, the sound from the shower filling the silence. You looked into his eyes, feeling like there was more to his words.

You stood on your tiptoes, hands grabbing his face to kiss him deeply. “I like you too, Wonwoo.”

“I know,” he whispered, leaning his forehead on yours.

And he knew that there was something more to your words. Even if none of you dared to say it yet.

After you both cleaned up, you were lying on your bed, huddled comfortably beneath the bed covers, your head resting on top of his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

Wonwoo was deep in thought, not quite falling asleep yet. And you wondered what was keeping him up, but you suspected that it was the same thing that was keeping you up.  

“When you talk to him,” Wonwoo whispered into the silence. “Whatever your choice is, I want you to know that I’ll respect it.”

You frowned, blinking as understanding dawned on you. “Wonwoo, are you—”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he cut in, still using a gentle tone. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me something. Just choose according to what you feel is best for you, okay?”

You showed him a pained smile. “You must want something out of this,” you told him.

He shook his head lightly. “Just you,” he mumbled. “But if you choose him, I’ll understand.”

You stared at him, limbs rigid with pain and something more.

Wonwoo pinched your chin softly, like he wanted to give you some comfort, but his next words just did the opposite: “I know you still feel something for him,” he told you, the ghost of a smile stretching his lips, but failing to reach his eyes.

You blinked away briefly, lip trembling as you tried to push the tight feeling in your heart. “That’s true, I do feel something for him still.”

He stilled, his breath stopping for a second. But he remained looking at your face, as though memorizing your features.

“But I also feel something for you,” you whispered, tears brimming and quickly spilling from your eyes. But there it was, the truth. You’d said it, and there was no taking it back now.

It hurt. Knowing that you were between two things that your heart couldn’t pay attention to fully. You wanted Wonwoo. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss Mingyu every day.

But he smiled, a tender look reaching his eyes as he brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers. “I know,” he whispered.

“Then why are you telling me this?” you asked.

He already knew his answer, but there was a slight struggle to get it out. Like he’d been waiting to tell you this, but couldn’t find the moment to do it. “I want you to be happy,” he said, his voice barely a murmur. “You deserve to feel loved. And someone who makes you happy.”

You looked him straight in his eyes. Your heart had paused, but something in you had pushed you to say the next words, “And do you think you could be that person?”

His lips parted briefly, but he nodded, his gaze descending to your lips and then back to your eyes. “I think things are very complicated right now for me to tell you, but if the time comes, I will,” he whispered, pinching your chin one more time.

You pushed yourself to cup his cheek, meeting his lips with your own in a featherlight kiss. Wonwoo gasped softly, but returned the kiss, moving his hand to your cheek too.

A million thoughts reeled in your mind, like comets dancing in the sky, and you failed to catch every single one of them. But you knew one thing—Wonwoo cared about you. He had shown you nothing else but unwavering trust and affection. 

But there was something coiling in your heart, tugging you back. You wanted to meet him where he was—you did. You knew, deep down, that if things were different, you’d be reciprocating his love, loud and honestly.

It was your heart that was still on the way.

“Wonwoo…” you breathed on his lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, brushing your hair back with his hand. He let out a soft breath through his nose, touching your forehead with his. “I know, baby.”

He ran a fingertip from your temple to your jawline, looking at your features like it was the last time. There was no need to say it—neither of you had to. The words hung in the air as you and he shared a long look.

Wonwoo smiled, pressing his lips to the tip of your nose. “Are you ready to sleep yet?” he asked.

You shook your head lightly. You were tired, but you needed to stretch this moment while you still could. “I want to stay up just for a little longer,” you said, snuggling closer to him beneath the covers.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Is there anything you want to do?”

You nodded. “Can we make out?” you asked with a shy giggle.

Wonwoo smiled slowly, turning over on the bed so half of his body was now on top of you. He gave you a couple of taunting kisses, pressing his lips slowly on yours, creating wet sounds as he backed up. “You know what will end up happening, right?” He whispered.

You giggled softly. “Uh, no. What will happen?” You asked, playing dumb.

He pressed his lips against yours briefly. “We’ll continue kissing,” he said in between kisses. “And then one of us will want more,” he muttered, then with a smile that you felt on your lips, he added, “and then I’ll end up making love to you.”

“Then shut up and kiss me more,” you muttered with a sweet tone, hands circling his neck, linking your fingers to pull him in.

Wonwoo kissed you again, deeper this time. And just like he said, you both kissed, each kiss making both of you desperate for more. Tangled beneath the bed covers, he climbed on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs. He made love to you, slowly, looking into your eyes when he wasn’t kissing you.

And afterwards, you slept soundly in his arms, wishing for the night to never end.

Wonwoo woke up alone in your bed.

He stretched out his arms before he opened his eyes, finding out that you had left the spot beside him some time ago, since the bed was already cold.

He opened his eyes, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. The room came into clearer view as he sat up, looking for you.

You were sitting on your couch, cuddled up to the corner with your knees pressed to your chest. You were sipping on your coffee cup quietly, but there was something wrong.

“Morning,” Wonwoo said, climbing off your bed and looking for his clothes.

You turned, watching him get dressed. “Good morning,” you replied, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “There’s coffee in the pot,” you said.

The weakness in your tone made Wonwoo direct his gaze at you. But you were difficult to read from where he stood. So he moved to the kitchen, grabbing the cup of coffee you had left beside the pot, filling it in silence.

As he approached you, he noticed the quiet detachment in your posture. “Something wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head, taking in a deep breath. “Mingyu just texted me.”

“Oh. I see,” he muttered, sitting down on the spot next to you. “What did he say?”

You lifted your head, holding his gaze. “He wants to talk,” you replied.

He noticed the tiredness in your eyes, but there was something else. You were nervous, chewing on your bottom lip, your gaze shifty as you lowered it back to your phone screen.

“Did you reply to him?” he asked, keeping his tone quiet.

You nodded. “We’re meeting tomorrow around noon,” you informed him, locking your phone and tossing it on the coffee table. You hugged yourself again as a form of calming yourself down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at you.

You gave him a non-answer shrug. But then you released a heavy sigh, your shoulders going slack. “I’m nervous,” you admitted.

Wonwoo turned to you, resting his elbow on the headrest of the couch. “That’s normal,” he told you softly. There was a pause, one that both of you used for reflecting. Wonwoo observed your posture, the features of your face.

It was a lot. Seeing him again after almost two months of zero contact.

“This whole thing is a mess,” you said.

“Yeah,” he conceded. “But it’s okay if it is. As long as we keep talking through it.”

You weren’t sure what you were going to do once you saw Mingyu. And heard what he had to say, now that you were aware that he’d wanted to ask you for a second chance.

But you knew one thing—you were afraid of choosing. If the conversation with him came down to that.

The park where you had agreed to meet with Mingyu was down a quiet street, next to an elementary school. 

As you sat down on a bench, you could hear children singing, sometimes laughing, and playing. You hadn’t chosen this location randomly. At this time of the day, the only people you saw were elderly couples or women walking in pairs, sharing stories and laughs. It bustled with activity from people engaging in outdoor exercise, running, and cycling.

It was alive, and you needed to have that as a view right now.

You arrived half an hour early, psyching yourself up to see him again. But as you waited, you started playing in your head every possible scenario of this conversation, each scenario bringing only anguish and a tight feeling deep in your guts.

One thing became clearer to you as you waited in silence.

You still loved Mingyu. That was something you never stopped doing. Maybe you resented him sometimes, but you missed him. You wondered what would’ve happened if he’d never left.

But you were also falling for Wonwoo. He was there to pick up the pieces. He saw you. And you also wondered what things would look like if they had happened differently.

And if you had to choose…

You shook those thoughts away, glancing at the clock displayed on your phone screen. You raised your head, looking around for the nth time. It was this time that you saw him.

The first thing you noticed was that his beautiful long hair was cut short now, giving him a younger look. But the man you loved was still in the way the sun caught his beautiful skin, in his puppy eyes when he found you. He blinked, the soft features of his face shifting slightly, appearing like he could breathe easily when he saw you were there.

Every cell in your body screamed at you to run and hug him tightly. You burned with every single day that you missed him.

You didn’t know how to act. While you were happy to see him, you were still guarded. But you decided to smile at him, even if your face felt tight with anxiety.

“Hi there,” Mingyu said as he stood before you, his velvety voice soft and reminding you of the way he would call you baby.

You blinked, feeling a familiar nostalgic ache seep beneath your skin. “Hi there,” you said, scooting an inch on the bench for him.

He understood, sitting down next to you with an eager look in his eyes.

You wanted to know what he was thinking. You wanted to know if he would bring up the fact that he’d seen you with Wonwoo.

But in reality, Mingyu had chosen not to say that to you. He felt like he had no right to ask you if you were dating someone else. He just needed to tell you how he felt.

And the moment he laid eyes on you, he solidified that choice. He loved you, and he felt so dumb for realizing that so late. And if you had moved on to someone new, he would have to accept it. Because he let you go.

You folded your hands on your lap. “You wanted to talk?” You asked with a slightly strangled tone.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate, nodding as he looked at the features of your face. He absorbed every detail, from the way you looked at him to the way you looked as you talked. God, if he could hold you again.

He wanted to tell you he’d been staring at your photo, sick with nostalgia to hear your voice. He wanted to tell you that he regretted his choice the very moment he walked away from the basketball court.

But finally, he said, “I’ve been thinking about everything. About us.”

You stayed quiet, holding your breath.

He kept going, his words slow and full of caution. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could let you go. But I’ve been lying to myself about that.”

His voice cracked mid-sentence, and you noticed the slight quiver in his tone. But he didn’t break eye contact, he kept his gaze on you.

You listened, a part of your heart swelling with so much relief to hear him say those words—the words you needed to hear him say months ago. But the other part of your heart knew that it was too late to do anything about it now.

Things have changed.

And Mingyu knew it too.

He lowered his gaze briefly, drawing in a breath as though filling himself with courage to take the biggest step he’d done in a while. He didn’t know how you’d take it, but he needed to do it, for the sake of his aching heart.

“Nothing has changed. I still think about you all the time,” he said, enunciating each word with a bitterness that had built up over the past couple of months.

You exhaled, the stinging in your eyes making you blink.

“I love you,” he whispered, but there was a sad note in his tone as the words landed too quietly.

He knew this was a game lost. He was too late.

But your gaze lifted, sad disbelief brimming in your eyes. “You do?” You whispered. Part of you always knew that he was falling at the same time you were for him. But then he walked away, and those dreams went with him.

“I thought I was protecting you from myself when I walked away.” He said, his voice breaking as he said the next words, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You wondered what the correct choice in this situation would be. But you waited, seeing in his face that he still needed to say more.

“I’m not saying this because I expect anything,” he continued. “I’m not asking for a second chance. Not like this. I just needed to tell you.”

You gaped, unable to do anything else as tears rolled down your face. “Mingyu…” You paused for air, even though you had only uttered his name. It was getting hard to breathe properly, but you had to push yourself to do it.

“I love you too,” you said with an air of resignation. “But that doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on yours. “I know,” he replied gently.

You blinked away from his face, catching the sunlight that filtered through the trees. “I think you were being honest when you broke things up,” you said, your tone thickening. “You were right, we weren’t ready.”

Mingyu tilted his head to one side, his gaze falling from your face briefly. “Do you think we’ll ever be?”

You swallowed back your tears. “I think we both need to heal,” you said. “I need to heal. You did the right thing for yourself when you walked away, but I… I changed, Mingyu.”

His eyes sparked with understanding. “Yeah,” he whispered, lowering his face. “I get that.”

You gave him a tired smile. “I’m sorry,” you said as guilt and remorse washed over you.

“Me too,” he said.

An air of finality hung between you. Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, and your heart squeezed when you thought of telling him that you’ve done something terribly wrong. Something that he probably won’t be able to forgive you for.

But you were a coward.

You rose from the bench, limbs trembling with the heavy weight of the things you were leaving unsaid.

Mingyu followed you, getting up with hesitation. “Can I ask you one thing?” he said.

You paused, your features shifting with fear and worry. But you nodded, deciding that if he asked about you and Wonwoo, you would admit to everything. You balled your hands into fists.

But he asked, “Can I hug you?”

Your heart shuddered with an unbearable pain, shaking you to your core. “Of course,” you said before you could think it over.

Mingyu wrapped you in a bear hug, bringing you close to his chest like he didn’t want to let you go. You sobbed the moment you picked up the smell of his clothes, his skin. That sweet smell of citrus mixed with coconut. You allowed yourself to snuggle your face onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

He rested his cheek on your head, rocking your body every so slightly in his arms. He heard your quiet sobs, felt them in his chest as you clung onto him like he was your lifeline. Because he was—for a moment in your life, he was your sun, he was the warmth during the night. And you… Well, you had changed Mingyu’s life, in a way. You were the first person he loved after getting his heart broken.

After some minutes of just holding each other, you both stepped away. You brushed your tears away with your hand, catching your breath slowly.

“See you around, shorty?” Mingyu whispered with an air of hope.

Your heart froze. But you nodded at him. “See you around, Mingyu.”

Mingyu watched as you turned around and walked away.

You walked out of the park in the direction of your apartment.

The thought you had been trying to keep at bay returned, now stronger after seeing Mingyu.

Maybe you didn’t have to choose one or the other.

Maybe this was the lesson you hadn’t learned. And it was now torturing you to the point that it left you with no choice.

Maybe what you needed was to choose yourself.

The wind brushed against your cheeks, drying your tears. You felt unbelievably tired and ached to get home. You pull out your phone, thumb pressing on the first contact in the recent calls list, and bringing the phone to your ear.

Wonwoo’s phone rang only once.

“Hello?” he responded.

“Hi,” you sighed heavily, but it didn’t soothe the pressure in your chest.

“How are you?” he asked, his tone soft but weary.

“Not great,” you admitted with a bitter laugh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked slowly. “I could head to yours after work.”

There was a hint of acknowledgement in his tone. As though he knew what you were planning to do already.

“Yeah, I want to talk.”

“I’ll be there.”

Mingyu felt like a different person.

The following morning, he woke up feeling heavy. It wasn’t the kind of heaviness he’d get from working out or from his shift at the bar. No, he felt guilty. With a big sigh, he forced himself to remember the painful conversation he had with you.

You were right. He needed to heal. He had to put the pieces of his heart back together if he wanted to come back for you in the future. When the time came, he would give you the love you deserved. The kind of love he knew he could give you.

But he’d had some closure. At least for now.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet for Mingyu’s liking. He got up from his bed, tossing the covers. He opened the blinds, letting the sunlight pour into his room to start his day.

It was Mingyu’s turn to get the groceries. So it didn’t make a lot of sense for Wonwoo to be out this early in the morning. Mingyu clicked his tongue as he went to the living room and the kitchen, finding every corner empty.

“Wonwooya,” he called softly, the sound of his voice bouncing on the walls.

Maybe Wonwoo was in his room with his headphones on. Which was plausible, but Mingyu quickly ruled that option out as he approached the door to Wonwoo’s room. It was slightly parted, a sign that he had left the room.

Had he slept out again?

Mingyu sighed, deciding to go on about his regular house chores. He gathered his dirty clothes, starting with the whites. He bundled up the bunch of clothes in his arms and loaded the washing machine. Then, something told him that Wonwoo would probably thank him if he also washed his white tees.

So he opened the door to Wonwoo’s room again, picking up the white t-shirts that were in the hamper and returned the washing machine, loading it and pressing the button on.

He remembered seeing a dirty mug on Wonwoo’s desk, the black coffee had started to leave a yellow stain around the inside of the mug. “Gross,” Mingyu whispered as he lifted the mug. But as he did this, his hand bumped against the mouse next to it.

The monitor flashed awake, the fans of his computer whirring back to life. Mingyu froze, mug in hand, unsure of what to do.

The screen showed Wonwoo’s desktop, and right in the corner closest to Mingyu’s line of sight, there was a photo viewing window. As though Wonwoo had hovered the mouse on top of it right before leaving the computer asleep. A row of different thumbnails sat along the bottom, but the image on display made Mingyu’s heart drop.

It was a photo of you.

Mingyu set the mug back where he’d found it, grabbing the mouse to press the left click. The window expanded, showing the photo Wonwoo was looking at before leaving.

You were framed in a pale autumn light, standing by the river. A smile painted the soft features of your face, although it looked like it was caught mid-breath. Mingyu could almost picture you, speaking with a soft smile on your face, the moment the photo was snapped.

It was a beautiful photo. You were beautiful.

But it wasn’t just one photo either, as Mingyu would come to find out. There were more, stacked in one folder that had a very cryptic name on it. Rainy day. His eyes scanned over the images. There were dozens of photos. Different places and days.

You walking beside the river, a bag full of books hanging on your shoulder. A series of photos snapped mid-motion in quick succession as you approached the lens, handing the bag to the person holding the camera.

You in a museum, standing beneath a skylight, light pouring down your face like some kind of vision. You looked near-angelical.  

And Mingyu just stared.

It was you, through Wonwoo’s lens. You through his eyes.

This wasn’t just admiration. This wasn’t just some modelling you were doing for Wonwoo’s photography course. This was Wonwoo seeing you. Capturing you with an intention that Mingyu was too familiar with.

Understanding dawned on Mingyu. Wonwoo had taken the photo that you were now displaying on your profile. The photo Mingyu had been looking at for days.

You’d been with Wonwoo that day when Mingyu saw you with another guy.

And Wonwoo hadn’t come home that night.

Mingyu’s heart sank to his stomach, backing away from the desk like it had suddenly burned him. His heart pounded as the truth came together like a puzzle, each piece hurting more and more. He turned, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

And then something inside him snapped.

He’d been blaming himself for losing you. He’d accepted the idea that you’d moved on. But not with Wonwoo.

And finally, finally, Mingyu got angry. 

☾ author's note: helloooooo

i... i guess i am hitting a burn out. i have been posting back to back for weeks straight. and part of it is because i hyper fixated on this fic a lot. i really love writing it, i really do. and i'm really excited that a lot of you enjoy reading it!! your comments and asks truly keep me going 🥹

i started a patreon very recently! this is meant for my exclusive series the sundering. it would mean the world to me if you guys check my patreon page out 🥺 i appreciate your support anyway, as always!! 🩵

okay, that's it from me for now. i'm gonna go play the witcher trilogy now, byeeeeee

i love you all!!

toodles!

☆ READ PART VIII! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | SUPPORT ME ♡

☾ author's note: i'm sorry.

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

pick your poison

The basketball court was empty. The night was still, as though hurt by the echo of the conversation you kept replaying in your head.

Puddles of water glistened on the pavement, reflecting fragments of the moonlight as it shone on the dark sky.

You sat there alone, motionless. Waiting.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for. Or maybe you did.

You looked down at your hands. They were wet. Wet in tears of a dream that was lost.

The sky shifted, and light poured into the basketball court. The sun rose too quickly, too bright. It brought with it the cruel reality to your broken heart. Like a thread pulled from your chest.

But then you woke up.

Your breath caught before you could open your eyes. You were lying on your bed, too exhausted to move. Your throat was dry, and every beat of your heart ached like it had a thorn right in the centre of it.

You were at home. But in your heart, you were still sitting on the bleachers. At the basketball court. 

Waiting for him.

Time passed in a blur after that night.

Days and nights went on, time slipping through your fingers like water. But despite that, you felt like your life had been perpetually put on pause. Your mind, body and soul were on standby, waiting for his call, even though you knew that he was set on his choice.

Being on standby also meant that you didn’t feel a thing.

You made a promise to yourself—the moment you left the court, you would never cry for Kim Mingyu again. And you would never cry for another man ever again.

What used to be your routine melted into a continuous, numbing train of activities. Work, home, eat, sleep. One after another. Suddenly, you found yourself moving without thinking. Acting without really being there.

You kept yourself busy, believing that work might save you from the aching hole in your chest threatening to pull you in.

There is an undeniable negativity around setbacks, around change. 

But in this situation, you didn’t know whether you had stumbled upon a setback or a change. Mingyu had never been your actual partner, in the sense that you never solidified a real relationship with him. The thing that was making you feel incomplete was that he walked away without ever knowing how you truly felt about him.

So there was one thing you could do. Bury it. 

You would bury your feelings and bury yourself if need be. It felt like rewriting bits and pieces of yourself that you were once willing to put into a relationship with him. Only to find out that you were idealizing a relationship that was never going to happen.

A part of you felt resentful. You felt used. Like he just came into your life, wrapped you in and then left you hanging. Alone.

But the other part felt grateful that he reappeared in your life and graced you with the ability to love again. Even though he left you with a heart full and brimming with love that you will never be able to give him.

The truth was, you didn’t feel any wiser. Forever stuck repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

Autumn had you yearning for snow. Anything that would make the puddles of water along the sidewalks freeze over.  

Everywhere you turned, you saw him. Even the faintest smell of coconut made your chest ache. Even the sound of rain reminded you of him.

You opened the door to a coffee shop, walking inside with an umbrella in one hand and grabbing the straps of your tote bag in the other.

You didn’t have to go to the other side of the city to get coffee. But lately, sitting in the small office you rented was suffocating. And being in your apartment made you think too much about the same thing.

And when you weren’t working, you avoided sitting in your own apartment. You couldn’t stand the silence of your space. Not then, and not now.

So you wandered. Searching for places you hadn’t ruined yet with memories.

The coffee shop was small, cozy, and humming with soft R&B music. The scent of fresh ground coffee and pastries hit you immediately. Warm, bitter, and sweet all at once. You stepped inside, suddenly feeling like you had crossed into a different reality. While outside was bleak and it looked like it threatened to rain again, inside was a wave of color. Splashes of pastels, warm colors, and warm yellow lights overhead.

For a moment, it almost felt like you could breathe again. Like the gaping hole inside you was replaced by a different thing.

But this feeling was fleeting.

There were only a handful of people inside the coffee shop. But one of them turned slightly toward you, the movement drawing your gaze to him.

Jeon Wonwoo might’ve sensed you, because he turned over his shoulder, spotting you instantly. He stood near the menu, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose.

He moved awkwardly, bowing his head politely when he caught your gaze.  

His lips moved, but you couldn’t make out his words.

This was the closest you’d come to anything connected to Kim Mingyu since the night he broke up with you.

Wonwoo flicked his gaze over your face—a hint of confusion, of something almost unreadable.

“Excuse me,” you cleared your throat, stepping closer to the counter.

“I said, do you want to order first?” he asked using a polite tone, but there was a usual dryness to it. “I am still deciding for myself.”

“I uh,” you fumbled, feeling the nerves prickling down your spine. “I-I’ll have an iced americano, please. And a cookie. Please.”

You sent a glance at Wonwoo, trying to come off as unbothered as you could. But there was no way you could mask the trembling of your fingers when you extended your hand to pay.

Wonwoo stood behind you, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his dark hoodie. “I’ll have a strawberry yogurt smoothie, please,” he said, pulling out his wallet and taking out a card with his nimble fingers.

You held your reaction. It was obfuscating to you that he would order such a fun and non-plain beverage like that.

But you both stood at the end of the bar, waiting for your beverages. None of you made eye contact again. But you could feel his furtive glances every ten seconds, when he thought you were too distracted looking at your phone.

But you were just staring at your phone, pretending to move your thumb down the screen.

Deep inside, you wanted to run. You wanted to crawl into the nearest, safest place you could find. You wanted to conjure up a way to disappear into thin air. But at the same time, you wanted to stay. To admire the closest thing that reminded you of him. Of Mingyu.

Your heart thumped in your ears. You wanted to hold onto the space where Wonwoo stood. Even as your order came down the bar and you picked it up.

But without meeting his gaze again, you grabbed your cup and turned around, heading to the door.

Wonwoo was there, pushing the door open before you could do it yourself. In one hand, he held his pink smoothie cup, and in the other, he held the door open for you. “Thank you,” you mumbled politely, exiting the coffee shop and joining the slow influx of people walking down the street.

“Don’t mention it,” Wonwoo replied. He looked like he didn’t expect to see you today. And in such a random part of the city.

After a beat, you realized that Wonwoo had fallen into step with you, forced to walk close to you due to the heavily transited sidewalk. 

“Are you heading down to the station?” Wonwoo asked curiously, motioning down at the stairs that led to the underground subway.

“Yeah. You too?” you replied. Your tone sounded suffocated. Like you were struggling to breathe properly.

“Yeah,” he said casually. He raised his gaze, surveying his surroundings like he was looking for a quick exit to leave you on your own.

But you tried to ignore it. A part of you was glad to have someone so familiar, but at the same time, so different from Mingyu. You never felt like Wonwoo liked you, so it was weirdly comforting that you had stumbled upon him. It was having someone so close to Mingyu, but different enough not to expect any questions coming from him.

The stairs were slick, wet with rain as you made your way into the station.

At the platform, the silence stretched. Wonwoo shifted his weight awkwardly, adjusting the strap of the bag slung across his body.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said after a minute, smiling shyly. “I promise I’m not following you or whatever.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down at his feet.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind the company,” you admitted with a little bit of struggle.

Wonwoo raised his eyes to you, studying you for a moment. “Okay,” he said, appearing to ground himself next to you. And for a moment, you thought that if you hadn’t said that, he would’ve stepped away.

The train arrived, and you both watched it as it slowly came to a stop. The doors hissed open, and you both went in after waiting patiently for it to clear out.

But it was still very packed with people, forcing you to remain on your feet and close to him. You hooked an arm around the pole, still holding on for dear life to the straps of your tote bag and sipping carefully from your iced coffee.

“Do you—okay,” Wonwoo blurted, opting to stay at your side. He raised an arm over his head to grab onto one of the handles.

The wagon hissed and beeped as the time to get in or exit ran out. The doors closed, and you were gently swayed in motion with the car. Your body was gently moved forward, awkwardly bumping into Wonwoo.

“Sorry,” you whispered nervously, trying not to disrupt the peace and quiet from inside the wagon.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, avoiding your eyes.

You tried to keep at least half an arm’s distance. Every time the train came to a stop, you tried to ground yourself as best as you could, clenching all of your muscles to the point it exhausted you.

And for a moment, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was in fact more normal than you had expected it to be.

“Where do you get off?” you asked after he didn’t exit for three stops. It was then that you started to feel that your plans were about to change. And collide with his. 

“In the next one.”

You nodded slowly, trying to hide your doomed smile.

“You?” he asked, pausing and then, “You too?”

“Yep,” you replied.

Wonwoo let out an amused breath through his nose. “Museum?”

You blinked. “Yes,” you chuckled awkwardly. But then, you looked at Wonwoo, like really looked at him. He was sporting a camera bag across his shoulder.  “Don’t tell me—”

“Sculpture showing?” he raised his eyebrows, huffing a tiny laugh when you nodded.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes.

The museum was half empty. A quiet, bustling series of sounds followed you inside as you moved towards the wide lobby. It was still beginning to rain again as you went inside, making you hope that it’d stop by the time you came out. 

You and Wonwoo moved without talking. As you went into the showing, you realized that it was organized so that you looked at each sculpture in a particular order, starting from the right side of the long room.

The showing was called A Human Connection. 

Wonwoo lingered a few steps away from you, his hands gripping his very expensive-looking camera, his head tilted like he was studying every bit of the sculptures, and looking for the perfect angle for a photo.

You wandered through the first few sculptures, pausing every so often to glance at him out of the corner of your eye. You realized he never strayed too far from you. But he didn’t speak, he didn’t voice the curiosity that showed behind his eyes every time his gaze flitted towards you.

The sculptures were beautiful, in a broken way. Bodies twisted in longing, hands that stretched to ghostly partners. Some figures leaned toward each other, sharing frozen and untouched kisses. A male figure knelt in front of a female figure, his arms clinging to her thighs, and he appeared to be hunched over her. Begging. 

You continued walking, trying not to think too much, otherwise it would begin to show on the features of your face. You were beginning to feel deeply affected. 

And then—you were forced to stop in front of one that caught your breath.

It was two human figures carved into smooth white stone, sitting back-to-back. The male figure had a hand stretching back, looking for the female figure who was leaving. In the stone where they both sat was a fracture, separating them definitively.

The woman was leaving. The man was trying to stop her. But beneath them, there was something broken.

You stared at it, feeling like life was playing a sick joke on you. Laughing at your pain.

Wonwoo joined you, standing beside you in utter silence.

You felt his eyes on you, but you pretended to be too enthralled by the sculpture to notice. For a while, neither of you spoke. And you tried your best to push all of your thoughts away.

“Do you think we’re all like that?” Wonwoo asked, his voice so quiet that you barely caught it.

You turned your head slowly. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “People who want to reach out. But only do it when it’s too late.”

You blinked at him, thrown off by the rare glimpse of vulnerability. “M-maybe.”

Wonwoo shifted, fixing his glasses awkwardly. He looked almost embarrassed, as though he, too, had been enthralled by the sculpture, and he didn’t realize who he was talking to. He appeared to be ready to move on to the next sculpture, but you opened your mouth, bringing him to a halt.

“I think that there are some people who still try,” you said. “People who reach out before it’s too late.”

Wonwoo looked at you. And you felt little under his scrutiny. You thought for a moment that he was going to take this as an opportunity to talk about what happened with Mingyu. To say something.

But he just stayed beside you. He had lowered his camera, deciding to absorb the beauty displayed in front of you. The warm light pouring from the skylight overhead created a shadow over the male figure, while the female figure glistened beautifully.

You slowly peeled off from the sculpture and moved onto the next. Wonwoo followed you silently, and you realized that his company was not at all what you had half-expected it to be. It was welcoming, something different and new. Like a silent truce that none of you were ready to acknowledge.

Wonwoo tipped his head toward the exit. “Are you heading back?” he asked when you had toured all the showing from start to finish.

You nodded quietly.

Outside, the sky had darkened. It had stopped raining, but it was considerably colder than before. The sidewalk was wet, and it glimmered under the streetlights, the pavement hissing loudly under the movement of the cars passing through.

You wrapped your arms around you, hugging your sweater tighter. You sucked in a breath, just as your teeth clattered quite dramatically, and loudly.

“Are you cold?” he asked, laughing lightly.

A small but meek smile tugged at your lips. “No, I’m not,” you lied through your teeth, laughing when the answer was obvious.

Wonwoo shrugged his leather jacket off, offering it to you without saying a word.

“I can’t” you said, blinking at him, alarmed.

“Take it,” he said simply. Like it was nothing to him and not something pregnant with meaning. He rolled his eyes, clearly getting why you were hesitant. “You’re shivering, come on.”

You hesitated, but took it anyway.

The fabric was warm, carrying the faintest trace of the laundry detergent that threatened to remind you of someone else. But as you let the jacket sit on your shoulders, another scent brushed against your senses. It was sweet, peachy, and warm. Oddly comforting.

You pulled it over your wrists, hiding your hands inside the sleeves.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything about it, but he looked at your sweater paws, now accompanied by his leather jacket. And the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

For a few blocks, you walked side by side, trading furtive glances when you thought that he might go away, or when you thought he wasn’t looking. He walked slowly, carefully taking each step to keep up with your slow pace. It was a quiet walk. Easy.

When you reached the station, he gave you one inquisitive look.

You knew he was dying to ask—because deep inside, you wanted to ask too. You wanted to know how Mingyu was faring, you wanted to know if he had been working on healing in all these weeks of no contact. A part of you wanted to know if he had tried to look for you.

But you couldn’t do it.

When you reached the station, you hesitated at first, but then you asked, “Are you heading home too?”

He nodded quietly.

“Same line?” you asked, though it was obvious. You knew where he lived and that he would have to use the same line to get there.

“Yeah.”

You both stepped inside the car, the floor wet with the dampness of all of the wet coats and umbrellas.

You quickly found a corner spot, standing close enough to Wonwoo that you could get that peachy scent coming from him too.

You both fell silent again. And it was okay.

As you both made your way out of the station, you realized that it had started raining again. You reached for your umbrella, preparing it as you climbed the stairs to the street.

Wonwoo paused, huffing a light laugh when he realized that it was raining harder than it was before.

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “We can share,” you said, raising the umbrella above your head.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

You found yourself rolling your eyes at him. “You gave me your jacket,” you shrugged. “Fair is fair?”

Wonwoo didn’t understand why the smile was wiped off your face. But your heart had stuttered after you uttered those last words, which echoed to some distant memory. To somewhere you didn’t want to go yet.

For half a second, he remained motionless. But then he stepped closer to you, standing under the umbrella. As you started walking, your shoulders brushed—and you were thankful to have accepted his jacket and couldn’t feel his skin properly.

You both moved down the street slowly. Rain pattered around you, creating a bubble of sound that felt almost too private, enclosing you both.

Wonwoo cleared his throat beside you, adjusting the strap of his camera bag so it wouldn’t bump against you. “Allow me,” he whispered, taking the umbrella from your hand and adjusting it to his height.

“Oh, sorry,” you laughed lightly, realizing that you were making him hunch to fit your size.

“It’s okay,” he replied, glancing your way. He was smiling too, and it was then that you realized that his glasses were starting to fog.

When you reached the next corner, Wonwoo hesitated. “Which way do you take?” he asked.

You realized that while you knew where he lived, he didn’t know where you lived.

“That way,” you pointed. Your shoes were getting soaked. The corners of the umbrella were dripping water all around you. Your shoulder was wet somehow.

“Maybe I could order a ride for you,” he offered, fumbling for his phone.

“No, my place is right down the street,” you said, bringing a hand to stop him, your fingers gently grazing his wrist.

You dropped your hand, as though his skin had burned you.

Wonwoo raised his gaze at you.

“Take it,” you motioned to the umbrella with one hand. “You’ll need it more than I.”

Wonwoo looked at your hand, then at you. Something flickered across his face, but you were too slow to read it.

“Then take my jacket,” he said.

You gaped at him. “Oh, no—”

“Fair is fair,” he cut in.

You couldn’t hide the way his words impacted you. It was as though your chest had turned into ice, making it impossible for you to breathe. You couldn’t stop it now. You thought of him. Of Mingyu, of the rains that had brought him to your life. The first kiss you shared. And your heart broke again.

You blinked repeatedly, expertly hiding your tears. “At least let me know how I could give it back to you,” you stuttered, raising your gaze to him.

Jeon Wonwoo was smart. He must’ve known what you meant. But his eyes read your expression, taking in your words. Returning his jacket was simple—you knew where he worked, where he lived.

“W-without having t-to see him.” You explained, and even though you didn’t utter his name, your heart churned.

Wonwoo took out his phone, handing it to you without a word. “Give me your phone number,” he said at once.

You sent him another alarmed expression. But he was not discussing it.

“Come on. Before we’re both soaked over,” he urged, almost as though it bothered him to know where your uncertainty was coming from.

Your heart twisted. But you took his phone, typing your number and swiftly calling your phone so you could register his number.

You handed his phone back, exchanging one lingering look that meant something. His eyes read your face, probably finding the vulnerable girl in your glinting eyes.

“Take care of yourself,” he muttered dryly, turning away once you nodded at him, too stunned to say something back.

You ran across the street, stopping under the awning before the entrance to your building. Looking over your shoulder, Wonwoo was walking down the street, your umbrella firmly in his grasp as he disappeared into the next corner of the street.

As soon as you came to your apartment, you peeled his jacket off. You saw Wonwoo’s face as the strong smell of peach and pachouli brushed against your senses.

The emptiness inside you started to ache at its edges.

Your apartment was dark, and dead silent. You closed the window to stop the rain from splashing inside and moved to the kitchen.

You had some leftovers from the night before. Curled up on one corner of the couch, watching something you have watched a thousand times already. There was a pause in the movie, and everything stilled in your apartment.

Maybe I should get a cat, you thought impulsively.

Your phone buzzed beside you, making your heart stop for a split-second.

It was past midnight. Nobody really texted you at this hour anymore.

You reached for it, expecting a dumb notification from some random app.

But it was Wonwoo.

“thanks for the umbrella.

you saved my camera. and me.”

You stared at the two text messages for a long second. A part of you wanted to acknowledge the strange, warm feeling you got from getting a text from someone. Even if it was Jeon Wonwoo.

You pulled your knees to your chest, gnawing on your lower lip as you pressed your thumbs on the screen. “You’re welcome. I’m glad.”

Almost immediately, the three little dots appeared. “did you get home alright?”

You didn’t take his text message as an invasion. But almost as a way for him to still be polite. A gentleman.

But you were still caught a little off-guard. It had been a while since you interacted with someone, so for him to be so… thoughtful made you take a pause.

You rested your chin on your knees. “Yeah, I did. Thank you.”

Wonwoo didn’t reply right away.

You stared at the screen for a while, half-expecting the conversation to die there.

But then another reply came, “have a good night.”

Something squeezed painfully in your chest. It was nothing. It’s nothing, you thought over and over. He’s being polite, nothing more.

A part of you felt ridiculed. Someone was being nice to you and your heart was already suffering, hurting as though you were running a marathon. Running away from something, more like.

“Thanks. You too,” you replied, acknowledging the way your heart faltered in stress with a big sigh.

It was nothing, yet you put your phone away as though it had suddenly burned your hands. The emptiness inside you warmed over such simple words. But just like that, the cocoon that you had wrapped to protect yourself was fractured.

Resurfacing meant that you had to give explanations to the people closest to you.

You pushed the door open to Casa Pump House, relieved to find it emptier than usual. Wednesday evenings were quieter. You’d been strictly coming to the gym around seven—avoiding Sundays at all costs. And so far, you’d successfully avoided Mingyu.

What you couldn’t avoid though, was Jungkook’s expert capacity for gossip. He’d known something was wrong after Mingyu broke up with you—your two-week disappearance and radio silence were louder than any verbal confirmation.

You only started coming to the gym sporadically, and you rarely caught Jungkook on shift. But the times you did, you avoided talking about it, about him. And Jungkook took the hint.

However, he could only keep it to himself for so long.

“Aaay,” Jungkook jogged over with a wide smile, softening the features of his face. “If it isn’t my favorite girl.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Is that what you tell every girl in here?”

He shrugged. “Just the ones that are evil to me,” he said with a light chuckle. But the grin slowly vanished, as his doe eyes studied you from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

Your heart faltered at the sound of his voice softening. He must’ve noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “I think you already know,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Jungkook pursed his lips slightly, giving you a short nod. “Yeah. He uh… he told me last night when I stopped by the bar,” he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. He chewed on the side of his lip that wasn’t adorned with piercings. “How are you handling it?”

You licked your lips and balled a hand into a fist, trying to hold yourself true to your promise. “I’m doing okay,” you said. But your voice came out thinner than you had wanted. You sounded brittle, and unsure. “As best as I can be.”

The features of his face shifted, and he took a tiny step towards you, having to tilt his head forward to look into your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, even though you were the only ones in the gym at that moment, and no one would listen to you.

You shook your head, tightening your lips into a straight line.

“That’s okay,” he said, his tone still gentle and quiet. “If you ever need to talk about it—about anything at all—you know you can call me, right?”

You raised your gaze to his big eyes. You never expected someone so lively and fun to bring you such calm to your heart. You nodded. “Thank you, JK,” you whispered, unable to bring your voice any higher. “I appreciate it.”

He nodded. “Don’t mention it,” he said. And then, stepping back, he brought his hands together in a thunderous clap. “Alright, let’s put you to work. Let’s go!” he roared vigorously.

You smiled despite yourself, wishing you could just flip a switch like that.

But for the first time in weeks, you felt better.

The Spot was quiet, as expected from a rainy Tuesday afternoon. But being it being a slow day didn’t mean that the regular tasks stopped there.

Seungcheol had taken the day off with his girlfriend. So that meant that it was just Mingyu and Wonwoo handling the bar. But that was fine, since the only customers there were the three Tuesday usuals.

Mingyu had been trying not to fixate on his phone, but he had been struggling to keep himself present and found that looking at mindless things on his phone allowed him to escape his reality.

Lately, life had been suffocating. Work was alright, nothing Mingyu couldn’t deal with. No, the suffocating feeling came from not being able to stop wishing he had something that occupied his time, his energy and his mind completely.

Because every time that silence stretched and he found himself alone, he would see you in the eye of his mind. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he did the right thing, he still felt that he had made a terrible mistake.

His fingers itched—he wanted to call you, to open your chat and tell you to meet up. He wanted to tell you that he missed you every single day and night. When it got dark and quiet, he ached to call you. Even if it was the middle of the night, just to hear your voice. To hear your tiny, and sweet giggles.

He blinked slowly, breathing in deeply to try and get rid of the pain in his chest. It was as though the feelings that were beginning to bloom for you had withered and had grown thorns around them, twisting around his heart.  

He was at that point in his heartbreak where memories were beginning to hurt, but he couldn’t keep himself away from them. Sometimes he wished he had taken photos of you so he could have your pretty face to look at when he missed you too much. But he resorted to just looking at your profile photo.

It was a photo that your best friend, Mona, had taken one night out. You were smiling at the camera, lifting your chin in a prim manner. Behind you was a colorful mural, painting two great wings behind you, spreading and merging with an array of wildflowers.

You were squeezing your eyes shut in the photo. And he could almost picture the moment—your friend convincing you to take the photo, and you standing there until something got a smile out of you.

His heart twisted painfully when the word Online appeared below your name. He exited the chat quickly, feeling ridiculous for a moment. He pocketed his phone, lifting his gaze to make sure that no one had seen him act so impulsively.

But as he resumed with his task behind the bar, he was consumed now with memories of you. A call wouldn’t hurt, a sneaky thought flashed across his mind. She would understand, she always does.

No, Mingyu told himself sternly. He has done enough damage to you. He came into your life just to make a mess of it. You were better off without him.

He was a mess. And he had to make himself better before he could seek you out again.

Because that was his plan, at least. Get better, heal his heart, and look for you when he were ready.   

Maybe that’s why he felt so out of place. Because, in his heart, he wanted you. He wanted more with you, but just didn’t feel like he was ready to fully love you yet. He knew what he was capable of when his heart was in it. When he wasn’t backing away at the first sign of commitment.

He knew that you deserved better. And he could give you better.

But it wasn’t the right time.

Still, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t think of you. Even though memories hurt, he was addicted to them. Like blissfully drowning in a violent river.

He thought of you, of your voice, of the smell of your hair. He liked to live in the memories where you looked at him lovingly. Those memories when he was inside your body, kissing you like you were his lifeline, because maybe you were.

In his mind, he hugged your body again, losing himself in you. Kissing you, telling you things he never got to in real life.

Something was beginning to rouse inside him when a hand came to his shoulder, patting him in a familiar, gentle way.

Mingyu turned around. Wonwoo was just coming back from his break, nodding to the kitchen door. “You have one hour,” he said promptly.

“What’s on the menu today?” Mingyu asked, not caring that he wasn’t even pretending enough to make his voice sound livelier.

“Sandwiches and fries,” Wonwoo replied, looking curiously at Mingyu, but didn’t ask any questions.

Wonwoo was a very patient friend. He would never intrude when he felt things were still stormy—so he hadn’t dared to pry since the night Mingyu broke up with you.

But Wonwoo was there to see the mess. Mingyu had come home that night and didn’t say a word. He locked himself in his room, and for two whole days, Wonwoo didn’t see or speak to him.

Ever since that night, Mingyu had seemed… hollow. Soulless. Like something in him was missing, and with each passing day, it only got worse—not better.

And ever since Wonwoo saw you at the museum, he’d wanted to ask Mingyu what really happened. But it still felt too soon.

“I’ll be back, then,” Mingyu said, patting Wonwoo’s back as he walked past.

Wonwoo nodded, his eyes following Mingyu until he disappeared through the kitchen door. He exhaled heavily, shaking his head before returning to the task he’d left off. He was in the middle of organizing the inventory, a routine so familiar, he could practically do it with his eyes closed.

The front door creaked open. Wonwoo would’ve normally glanced up to greet whoever entered, but he was too focused on counting boxes of beer.

“What are you serving tonight, sir?” a familiar voice called out.

Wonwoo smiled. Through the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure settling on the stool at the bar.

“Same as ever,” he said, raising his gaze to meet one of his oldest friends. Changkyun.

Wonwoo set his notebook aside and turned to the fridge, grabbing a beer. He placed the bottle on the counter just as Changkyun reached for the opener.

“It’s been a while,” Changkyun said with a tired groan.

“Well, since you started living your healthy life, I see you less,” Wonwoo quipped with a small smile.

“Healthy life?” Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “Getting up at five in the morning to host a radio show is not my definition of healthy.”

“Still, you get more sleep than I do,” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Shut up. You probably make more money in a week with those stupid girls’ nights you’re always advertising,” Changkyun said, narrowing his eyes and pointing at Wonwoo with the neck of the beer.

“That wasn’t my idea—it was Mingyu’s,” Wonwoo replied, raising both palms in mock innocence.

Right then, Mingyu came out of the kitchen. He didn’t acknowledge either of them. He walked straight past the bar and exited through the back door, a storm cloud in human form.

“What’s up with him?” Changkyun motioned toward the door Mingyu had just walked through.

Wonwoo kept his eyes on the door for a moment, ensuring it was shut, then turned back to Changkyun. “Same thing as last time.”

Changkyun raised his eyebrows. “Damn. That breakup hit him harder than I thought.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brow. “He and Gigi broke up months ago,” he said. “This is someone else.”

“Really?” Changkyun tilted his head. “Huh. One messy breakup can lead to an even messier one.”

Wonwoo remained quiet. His own experience with heartbreak was... limited, at best. If he could call it that. He had only ever had healthy, uneventful relationships. Nothing explosive. Nothing shattering. He even stayed friends with all of his exes.

“Please elaborate,” he muttered, resting his hands on the lacquered countertop.

Changkyun shrugged. “You know—when you're still hurting from one person and find someone else to patch you up?” he said. “One poison drives out another.”

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away.

But part of his mind replayed the memory of you—standing beneath the skylight at the museum. The distant look in your eyes. Like something wild and wounded, cautiously stepping into the world again.

He also remembered the night at the bar. When he’d warned you to be careful with Mingyu. Because at the time, he truly believed it was you who might hurt him. Now he realized you’d defended Mingyu so vehemently—only to be the one left behind. It wasn’t you who had been reckless. You weren’t the loose cannon. It was Mingyu.

“I don’t really like what you’re insinuating,” Wonwoo said, rolling his eyes. But deep down, he couldn’t deny that Changkyun might be right.

“Relax, I’m not saying he used her intentionally,” Changkyun replied, glancing at the back door. “But he could still care about her... and use her at the same time.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t make it easier. I’d hate myself too, if I were in his shoes.”

Wonwoo weighed this new idea in silence. He knew Mingyu—knew how deeply he could love. But ever since that breakup with Gigi, something in him had changed. He was more guarded, more distant. A little broken.

Still, to seek you out as comfort… only to discard you when things got too real? That was something Wonwoo never imagined his best friend capable of.

And now, he wondered. Had Mingyu ever really seen you for who you were? Or was he only ever looking for someone to fill the void?

Did he look for his ex in your eyes?

Wonwoo grabbed his phone, quickly finding your name in the list of chats he had ongoing. “there’s a bookstore right across the street from the museum” he wrote to you, his fingers quickly sending out the next words: “we could meet there if you’re free next monday”

You stared at the screen, your heart thudding nervously.

“Hello?” you typed back. “Not even a hi, good evening?”

The three little dots appeared on his end quickly. “hi” he replied.

“How very eloquent,” you mumbled to yourself, your thumbs hovering over the keypad, but you stopped yourself before you could think of what else to say.

“or maybe we could meet somewhere closer to yours, however you prefer” read his texts after some seconds went by.

Your breathing was uneasy. This wasn’t a date. Or something where you had to make yourself look pretty and presentable, you told yourself.

It was simple.

“I love bookstores” you wrote, and then: “And I’m free this Monday”

His reply came shortly after that. “good. see you then”

And that was it.

So Monday rolled around quicker than you probably would have wished for. The morning was wrapped in a chilly layer of mist from the rains overnight. The clouds hung low, dark, and almost threatening to rain again.

You wore a raincoat and packed an extra umbrella, just in case. Since the day was already cold, you made sure to dress appropriately, but as you made your way to the station, beads of sweat had started to gather on your forehead.

Inside the car, you could feel the warmth coming from the heaters below, making you wish you had worn lighter clothes. But with this treacherous weather, it was better to be safe than sorry.

You adjusted the strap of your bag nervously as you walked down the street. You were familiar with the bookstore where Wonwoo wanted to meet with you, but you had never gone inside. You were curious to know why he wanted to meet there—was it because it was so close to the museum?

You hesitated for a second before pushing the door open. You were immediately hit with a sense of wonder, and the questions in your head also piled up and doubled the size once you went inside.

The store wasn’t a typical one. It was just one floor, with rows of sandy brown bookshelves lined up and organized in a way that almost made it look like a maze. In the middle, there was a circular coffee bar. Low indie music played in the background, occasionally interrupted by the loud hiss of the coffee machines.

Wonwoo sat on one of the stools, his fingers wrapped around a small white coffee cup. He took a sip, then lowered the cup slowly. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose, and he pushed them up, raising his gaze.

He spotted you immediately, but his expression gave no indication of whether he was pleased to see you.

This was slightly perplexing as you approached the bar. Something stirred inside you at the scent of coffee—and the strong smell of peaches and pachouli.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Wonwoo said quietly, turning to glance at the light book he’d been reading. He closed it, resting his palm on top.

You flashed him an alarmed look, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Why, am I late?” you asked, checking your watch.

“No, just—” Wonwoo shook his head lightly. He motioned to the blackboard menu in front of you. “Coffee?”

You gaped at him a little. “Yeah,” you sighed, discontent creeping into your voice. “You’re really confusing to me.”

Wonwoo arched an eyebrow, watching as you ordered. Once the barista took your request, he cleared his throat. “Why confusing?” he asked, lifting his cup again. You noticed he was drinking a double espresso.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, lowering the straps of your bag and placing it on your lap.

You looked up at the ceiling. The soft, orange glow from the lights above made the space feel warmer—almost like an eternal sunset. The room was also adorned with hanging plants that reached into every corner.

You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze on you, and when you turned to him, your suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t look away or pretend not to be observing you.

But you were the one who turned away first. “I thought you hated me,” you confessed, lowering your voice as shyness crept up your neck, making your face hot.

His lips curved in a tiny, downturned smile. “Why?” he asked gently.

The barista placed your drink beside you. You thanked them, wrapping your hands around the cup, even though your fingers weren’t cold.

“I just got the feeling you didn’t like me. When I was dating Mingyu,” you said, your heart stammering at your own boldness.

Wonwoo blinked, taking the last sip of his coffee. “I never disliked you,” he said bluntly, offering a solemn look that made you realize how quickly you had judged him. “Nor did I have anything against you. I thought I was looking out for him.”

“Yeah. I got that,” you whispered, nervously rotating your cup on its saucer.

He leaned in slightly, his face still serious—but now tinged with a quiet kindness. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you smiled, unable to hide the hurt lingering behind your eyes.

He tapped his thumb against the cup and drew in a long breath through his teeth. “Are you doing okay?” he asked, his brows knitting slightly as he looked at you.

You met his gaze, surprised by both the question and the softness in his tone. You opened your mouth to lie—to say you were fine, better than ever.

But there was no escaping his expert scrutiny.

“I’m trying,” you finally admitted, your voice barely holding itself up.

Wonwoo nodded, gaze softening. But he didn’t push further. It was almost like he was waiting to confirm something he already suspected.

“Is he—” you swallowed hard, nearly choking on your spit as you turned your face. You sighed the nerves out of your chest.

“He’s doing okay,” Wonwoo said, understanding exactly what you meant to ask.

There was honesty in his eyes. But then he looked back down at his empty coffee cup.

“He’s kind of a mess, but he’ll be fine,” he added. Now his voice carried a raw edge to it. “Mingyu has a tendency to fall too fast. Gets hurt in the process. Always.”

The words rang with a heavy familiarity. You blinked, trying to recall where you’d heard them before.  It was in your kitchen. One morning, after Mingyu had stayed over. The ache in your heart returned. “I know,” you choked out. “He told me.”

“I’m sorry it ended like that,” Wonwoo said. “For both of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you blinked, confused.

The light glimmered off his glasses. You saw his dark eyes searching your face, his lips parting ever so slightly.

“I guess this is me offering you an olive branch,” he said with a polite smile. “I never meant to intimidate you—or make you feel like I didn’t like you.” He straightened up in his seat, bowing his head slightly. “I regret being an asshole to you.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re forgiven,” you said, warmth creeping into your chest. “But don’t think we’re friends now,” you teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a grin.

You smiled—and your eyes drifted to the camera bag on the stool beside him.

The shop was nearly deserted. Two girls browsed the graphic novel aisle, while a few others lingered near the coffee bar. It reminded you of The Spot—except with bookshelves and hanging plants, instead of bright neon signs and loud rock music.

“Do you come here often?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “It’s quiet. Coffee’s good. Cookies are even better,” he added, pointing to the pastry case behind the glass.

“Have you tried them all?” you asked, eyeing the double chocolate cookie.

“I haven’t tried the pumpkin one,” he shook his head lightly.

You ordered a chocolate cookie, thinking that you were probably in need of a sugar rush. But deep down, you were wary, trying to protect yourself from more questions that you were sure were about to start.

“Do you carry your camera everywhere?” you asked instead, motioning to the camera bag on the other seat next to him.

“Just when I have days off,” he shrugged. “Mingyu pushed me to do this photography course online, and they’re very strict about the homework so,” he clicked his tongue, patting the camera bag with one hand.

You wanted to huff, getting the familiarity of his words yet again. “You don’t say.”

You took a bite from your chocolate cookie, humming in delight as the chocolate chips melted on your tongue. Wonwoo glanced your way, smiling softly as he outlined the corner of the book cover with one fingertip.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and it was the gentleness in his tone that really grounded you in reality.

You shook your head, swallowing hard as you tried to keep yourself composed. “I’m not good at talking about things,” you pointed out.

But you didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the chocolate dimming your good senses. Maybe it was the coziness inside the book shop that made you feel wrapped up in warmth and the smell of fresh coffee.

Or maybe it was the sound of Wonwoo’s voice. Inviting, soft and comfortable like velvet.

“I knew what I was getting myself into,” you said, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “I knew Mingyu was still healing from his previous relationship. But I still decided to stay, to be there for him. And he was really reassuring, you know? Sometimes he made me forget about his situation.”

You risked sending a quick glance at Wonwoo, and he nodded to you. “Yeah, I know,” he said gently.

“But one day he would tell me he wanted to be with me, and then he would disappear for days,” you added, and your throat closed up, your voice sounding bitter at the end of your sentence.

The atmosphere stilled, like stopping to witness your heartache. Even though time had passed, and you hadn’t seen Mingyu or talked to him again—the wound was still fresh. Flashes from when you sat at those bleachers haunted you, threatening to swallow you whole.

“It’s crazy because we were never anything serious,” you shrugged as a defense mechanism, like trying to get rid of the burden around your shoulders. “It was casual. No strings, no expectations—” you huffed a bitter laugh, tears brimming in your eyes. “But it hurts even more than when I broke up with my ex.”

Wonwoo shifted beside you, turning slightly on his seat to look at you better. “Your ex?” he muttered, so quietly that you barely heard him.

You nodded slowly, chewing on your lower lip. “Before Mingyu, I was with someone for years,” you said, and somehow, it felt easier to tell Wonwoo. As though nothing could hurt you anymore. “We lived together. I had plans and dreams of building a life with him, but…” You looked away, sighing tiredly. “He told me he wasn’t looking for marriage, nor something more serious.”

There was a pause.  And you were sure that Wonwoo was waiting for you to say something else, but you just took another bite from your cookie.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must’ve been really difficult for you,” he said, shifting again on his seat as he sighed deeply.

But your words started to sink into his mind. What happened with Mingyu was even more hurtful than what your ex-boyfriend did to you. Breaking up with someone after an unreconcilable difference was something—and by the time you broke up with him, you were already emotionally resigned.

But the feeling of almost being something cut even deeper.

You laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry I’m dumping all of this on you,” you told him, holding in your tears. “And after telling you that I wasn’t good at talking about serious stuff.”

Wonwoo shrugged, giving you a light, easy smile. “It’s the curse of a bartender,” he told you. “But I’m glad that you opened up. It’s already hard to deal with things, but to keep them all to yourself makes it suffocating.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you mumbled.

You placed your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your fist. “So you took the photos that are hanging on your living room?” you asked promptly, making it obvious that you needed to change the subject.

And he caught it straight away. “A couple of them, yes,” he mumbled, looking down at his camera bag. “I’m actually thinking of taking a stroll near the river. I have this task I need to get done, and maybe I can snap some good photos there.”

Your tummy twisted. It was hard to read if it was an invitation or not, so you just nodded.

“If you wanna come and hang out, it’s fine by me,” he whispered, noticing the hesitation in your expression.

You saw the glint in his eyes, there was an easiness on the tiny smile he showed you.

You were almost about to decline. To tell him that you were busy and had a ton of things to do at home.

But you felt lonely. And there was nothing serious about his invitation. It was just hanging out. 

“I’d like that,” you replied. But then you paused, “But before we go, I want to get some books.”

You stepped outside the shop and waited.

The pavement was slick with water from the light rain that had ceased moments before. The sky was still gray, blanketing the street with a quiet, gloomy heaviness.

Wonwoo followed soon after, now wearing the jacket he’d lent you. He glanced up at the sky and made a face. “This is not very ideal,” he muttered.

You nodded, adjusting the strap of your tote bag, which now hung heavy with books. “We could wait it out,” you offered with a shrug.

He looked around, scanning for shelter.

“Or,” you added, “we could just make our way to the river—take the opportunity while it’s not raining.”

Before he could respond, you were already heading down the street. Wonwoo fell into step beside you, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

“What did you get?” he asked, nodding toward your tote bag.

“A couple of graphic novels,” you said, peeking into the bag. “I’m also doing a course—learning tips and tricks about graphic design.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You also got convinced to take a course?”

You nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Wonwoo patted his camera bag. “I see,” he murmured, voice low.

A silence fell between you. But it wasn’t awkward—not this time. It reminded you of that quiet day at the museum. Stillness, but not distance.

“This is nice,” you said.

He turned his head toward you. “What is?”

“Not trying to run off,” you answered. “Not pretending I’m okay.”

He blinked, visibly unsure how to respond. But he didn’t look away. Something about speaking plainly with him felt good. For the first time in months, you weren’t hiding. You didn’t have to pretend you weren’t hurting.

After a moment, Wonwoo pushed his glasses up. “It is nice,” he said softly.

Both of you walked in silence, the city slightly slowed and hushed by the cold rain. The river glinted ahead, catching what little light managed to break through the clouds.

Wonwoo paused, slipping his bag off his shoulder and unzipping it. “Wait,” he said.

You tilted your head. “You don’t want to get closer to the river?”

“This is okay,” he murmured, already adjusting his camera.

A twist tightened in your tummy when you realized the lens was pointing toward you. “Should I step away?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked through the viewfinder with quiet concentration. “Don’t move,” he murmured.

You obeyed, though your nerves got the better of you—you shifted slightly, turning your head to the side to avoid meeting the camera’s eye.

Through the lens, Wonwoo saw you standing alone on the path that led down to the river. The pavement was scattered with the last of autumn’s leaves, but it was your face that caught him—the distant, thoughtful look in your eyes. The way you refused to look at him, even though he was really seeing you. All of you.

When he lowered the camera, you exhaled. “You could’ve told me you needed a model.”

The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe. But you would’ve said no.”

“True,” you admitted. “I’m not a model. I don’t know how to pose.”

“So you say,” he replied, brushing past you with a grin. “Stand over there.”

He pointed to a spot closer to the river, and you laughed under your breath.

“Fine. But you’re holding this.”

You shoved your tote bag full of books into his hands. He caught it with ease, the grin on his face widening.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest ached a little less. There was something in his boyish smile, in the gentle playfulness behind his glasses. And without thinking, you moved to where he asked, standing without questioning his order.

But the moment you stopped, you became overly aware of your body—your arms, your shoulders, your mouth.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo said softly.

You did. And in that moment, you forgot what it meant to pose. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t guarded. You just looked at him. And he looked at you, the shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The camera clicked. And you waited for him to take another shot, or to move.

“That’s it?” you asked, blinking away from him.

“I got it,” he nodded, his voice slightly hoarse.

He lowered the camera, and his eyes lingered on you for a second longer than they should’ve. His gaze softened. He looked thoughtful for a moment, until he gave you a sheepish smile.

“You’re surprisingly good at this.”

You snorted. “Surprisingly?” you said with a laugh, stepping toward him. “I probably look like those Renaissance paintings where they were still figuring out how to paint cats.”

He laughed out loud. “You’d make a very cute ugly cat,” he teased.

Your cheeks flushed, and you almost hated that you were smiling at him. But then his eyes met yours again, and you felt that same shift in your chest. That stupid pull, that traitorous flutter of your heart.

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, motioning at his camera. “Would you like to see the picture?”

You hesitated for a second—unsure why it suddenly felt like it was a big deal to step in closer to him—but nodded. He stepped closer, holding out his camera. And you leaned in, your shoulder brushing his.

You tried to focus on the photo, but the proximity was almost dizzying, and the strong smell of peaches filled your head. Your breath hitched.

The photo wasn’t perfect. You instantly saw all of the little imperfections surrounding you. Your hair was windblown, your expression flat. But your eyes… there was a softness in your eyes. A realness in them.

“You see?” he said. “Surprisingly photogenic.”

“I look caught off guard,” you murmured sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t look good,” he corrected gently.

Your heart thumped so hard that you were sure it was almost audible. But he didn’t look away.

You breathed in, trying to push the fluttering feeling out of you as you exhaled. “I should get going,” you said.

Wonwoo nodded, noticing the look in your eyes. “Your bag,” he said and unhooked the umbrella that you had lent him the other night. “Thank you for the umbrella and now the photos. I owe you one.”

You gave him a small smile. “You owe me nothing,” you told him. “It’s what friends do, right?”

Wonwoo paused, and for the first time, you wanted to get an in on what he was thinking. “Right,” he nodded.

Friends.

The apartment was dark when Wonwoo walked in, and only the faint light coming from the TV illuminated the way. Slipping off his shoes, he took his jacket off and hung it on the coat rack by the entrance.

Mingyu was on the couch, looking at his phone, not really watching anything. He was just sitting there, elbows planted on his knees, head bowed like he had been stuck in that position for a while before Wonwoo came home.

Wonwoo opened the fridge, took out a banana milk and punched the hole with the little straw. He sipped quietly, afraid to break the silence.

But it was Mingyu who spoke first. “You were out late.”

Wonwoo leaned against the counter, pressing his elbows against it. “Yeah. I went to the bookstore. Took some photos near the river.”

Mingyu nodded slowly, still not looking at him.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked slowly, starting to feel worried.

Mingyu shook his head. “I ruined everything.”

Wonwoo didn’t say anything right away. The rawness in Mingyu’s voice made Wonwoo’s heart falter.

“I keep thinking about her. About what I did,” Mingyu said, putting his phone away.

Wonwoo caught a glimpse of your profile photo on the display. His heart dropped to his stomach. “So call her.”

Mingyu gave a small, empty smile. “It’s not that simple,” he said, rolling his eyes with an annoyance that Wonwoo was sure was directed towards something else, not him.

“No, I know it’s not simple,” he said. “But it’s a start.”

Mingyu finally looked up, his tired eyes finding Wonwoo’s. “Would you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “If you had broken her heart, would you do it?”

Wonwoo shrugged, like the answer was clear as day. “If I cared about her, yeah. I would.”

Wonwoo remembered your sad smile. He remembered the brittle sound of your voice when you talked about your past heartbreak.

Mingyu looked away, shaking his head. “She deserved better than the way I left things.”

Wonwoo’s throat tightened, it was hard to swallow. He thought about the photos in his camera. About you. Your eyes. The way you were finally starting to laugh again.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo said softly. “Yeah, she does.”

But Mingyu didn’t catch the shift in his tone. He locked his phone, deciding to not call you, nor text you. Not yet.

“I’m not ready,” Mingyu said, rising from the couch.

Wonwoo watched him walk to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.

After a moment, Wonwoo decided to head to his bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.

He leaned against the door for a long second, letting his head rest back, closing his eyes. The silence inside the apartment felt heavier—a hundred times worse than before.

He pressed the Enter button on his keyboard, bringing his computer to life. The hum coming from the fans of his computer started to fill the room. Wonwoo used the faint light coming from his double monitors to look for a change of clothes, something comfortable, before he sat down to work.

After he found a pair of black shorts and an oversized white t-shirt, he sat down on his chair, getting his camera out of its bag.

He scrolled through the different photos he got from the day at the museum. And then the photos he got from today. Photos of the wet pavement, the river, and the leaves scattered on the floor.

And you.

Wonwoo’s breath caught when he saw a photo he didn’t realize he had caught. In this photo, you weren’t looking at the camera. There was a softness in your features, a sad look in your eyes. The way you stood in the light, the shadows pooling at your feet.

Wonwoo stared at the photo, his finger hovering on the right click for a second before he moved the photo to another folder. One that wasn’t destined for the task.

He leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his long, dark hair. He didn’t want to feel guilty. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew this. But the weight in his heart begged to differ.

Wonwoo reached for his phone as he chewed on his bottom lip.

Then, with a laboured sigh, he opened your chat.

The last message between you and him was a simple thank you after he asked if you had arrived home alright. It was simple, friendly. 

Wonwoo hesitated, flexing his fingers over the keyboard before typing: “it was good seeing you today”

And that was it. He put the phone away, face down on his desk and dropped his head back against the chair. His heart was doing that stutter that it hadn’t done in a while. 

In years, even.

Things happen randomly sometimes. You weren’t looking for your life to be derailed one Sunday night. Not on purpose, at least.

You were curled up on your bed, scrolling numbly through your phone, a thing that would eventually lead to falling asleep, but you weren’t having any luck yet.

Your phone started vibrating in your hands, and the picture of your best friend from college, Mona appeared on the screen.

You had been dodging her calls lately, feeling like your recent actions might bring her judgment. But something about her calling late at night spiked your intrigue.

You swiped your thumb across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey there,” Mona replied, and something about her tone was off.

“Is everything okay?” you asked curiously.

“I need you to sit down,” Mona instructed bluntly.

You sat up on your bed, reclining on the headboard. “What’s happening?”

“Listen, I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to find out by other means.”

“Please, Mona, just tell me,” you sighed tiredly, already feeling the weight of anxiousness seeping in.

“Jay is getting married.”

You stopped cold. It was as though you were abruptly submerged into a pool of ice-cold water. Your body was too slow and too heavy to muster a reaction.

“W-what?” you blurted. A part of you felt like your friend was playing a really bad prank on you.

“Jay just announced his engagement,” she repeated, and you could hear the raw rage in her tone.

“H-how do you know?” you stammered, trying to compose yourself with slow and deep breaths.

Mona didn’t get along with your ex-boyfriend. Or with anyone who was still related to him. You knew this.

“Someone sent me screenshots. Look—I don’t mean to put you in a bad spot, but,” she paused, and you could tell from the deep sigh coming out of her that she was debating to tell you more. “But you deserve to know. Before someone else tells you and makes it worse.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your breath catching painfully against your ribs. “Thank you, Mona,” you told her.

“I got you,” she said right before hanging up.

It was about two seconds later that she sent you two pictures. There he was. Your ex. Smiling in a way you hadn’t seen in years, his arm slung around someone else’s shoulders. It was a girl you didn’t recognize. But she was cute. Glowing with a radiant smile on her face, showing off her brand new engagement ring.

The caption under the photo made your stomach lurch.

To a future together- Mr. and Ms. Bang 💞

You stared at the photo. Read the caption. Then stared at the photo again.

The screen blurred, and you realized that your hands were shaking.

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

You left the phone aside, burying your face in your hands as though you could fix the stabbing pain in your chest.

You weren’t supposed to care anymore. You stopped caring about your ex long ago. But the pain was raw, eating at your heart quickly. It hurt so deep you couldn’t breathe.

It was like you were sitting at that basketball court again. With nothing but your aching heart in your hands.

The room was spinning, and everything felt wrong. You got out of bed, grabbed your hoodie, keys, and shoved your phone in your pocket. And without thinking, you scrambled to the door.

You needed to get out of there. You needed to move, to do something.

It rained again on the walk to the nearest convenience store. But you didn’t bother with an umbrella this time. You let the drizzle soak into your hair, your hoodie, your sneakers.

Maybe the rain could help wash this pain out of you. Maybe the rain could fix whatever was broken inside you.

You grabbed a couple of bottles of alcohol, not caring what you took with you and paid.

You were walking out of the convenience store when you bumped into him. A tall, hard frame that almost had you stumbling back onto the floor, weren’t for those hands holding you steady.

You looked up, your heart stopping at once when you saw the man who had helped you catch your step.

“Careful there,” Jeon Wonwoo said, helping you catch your step.

His gaze swept over you—taking in your soaked hoodie, your damped hair, your hurt, glassy eyes.

“Sorry,” you said awkwardly, looking down at your feet.

Rain continued to fall, slowly, trickling down the back of your head and soaking through your clothes. You were sure that Wonwoo had already spotted the state you were in, and the bag with bottles of alcohol inside.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, studied you.

And saying nothing was somehow worse. Because it meant that he saw all of you. He saw the way you could barely hold yourself together. Your lip quivered. You hated yourself. You hated the power that you had given to other people to make you feel this way.

You blinked rapidly, trying to fight the sting in your eyes. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was heading back home but—” Wonwoo took a cautious step towards you, like approaching something wounded and dangerous.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, his voice barely audible. “You’re okay?”

The stupid kindness in his voice snapped something inside you.

The first sob ripped from your throat without any warning. It was sharp, humiliating. It told of the many days and nights you contained yourself. You clamped a hand over your mouth, but it was far too late.

Wonwoo swayed towards you, closing the distance. He didn’t touch you, not right away. He just stood there, as though figuring out what to do. Figuring out what he wanted to do.

Something broke loose in you. Without thinking, you stumbled forward, crashing into his chest. Your hand clutched the front of his jacket, twisting the fabric.

Wonwoo caught you with not even a second of hesitation, wrapping you in a big hug. Like he was holding you to keep you from falling onto the ground. 

You didn’t question it, and neither did he. It was a simple gesture. A human connection. 

You cried against his chest, broken, shuddering gasps tearing out from your chest as the flood you had been containing finally broke loose. A part of you wanted to explain to him why you were crying. But you couldn’t make out the words—the pain was so great, greater than you.

You had broken your promise. 

“I’m sorry,” you said disjointedly, backing away from him while wiping your tears.

“It’s okay,” he said, sending a look around. “Where are you going with that?” he asked, motioning to the paper bag you were holding in one arm.

“To my home,” you sniffled, pointing down the street.

“Do you need company?” he said politely, but you realized he wasn’t taking a no for an answer. “Let me walk you there.”

You wondered how messed up you really looked like that, he felt compelled to walk you home. “Okay,” you agreed, and started walking towards your apartment building.

The walk was quiet. Your head was so filled with different thoughts that you couldn’t bring yourself to say something.

You didn’t remember the walk to your building. But you remember standing beneath the awning, turning around, and sending a flitting glance up to his face.

“Do you need to talk?” he asked slowly. It was a simple question.

Your throat tightened, and burned. Gnawing on your lower lip, you nodded.

A worried expression flashed across the features of his face. It was for a second, fleeting.

“Come upstairs?” you asked, and the sorrow and desperation rose in your tone, showing in your eyes. “Please.”

His mouth parted ever so slightly. He surely must’ve realized the implications of him coming to your apartment. But what exactly was to be expected?

“Of course.”

Stepping inside your apartment with Wonwoo following you closely felt surreal. But everything else going on in your life made it shrink in comparison.

“Come in,” you whispered, leaving your sneakers at the front door, closing it once Wonwoo followed you inside, watching you closely.

You hadn’t even turned the lights off when you walked out of your apartment. You left the bag on the counter before grabbing a bottle, cracking it open and gulping down three large mouthfuls of straight alcohol.

Wonwoo blinked in shock. “Oh, God,” he stammered, watching you as though he needed to do something soon. “Calm down.”

You exhaled heavily, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. You motioned the bottle to him, raising your eyebrows.

But he shook his head. “I don’t drink,” he said politely.

“Okay, then,” you shrugged, drinking down another three large gulps.

Wonwoo watched you intently, crossing his arms as the muscles of his jaw tightened. “You’re scaring me,” he said finally.

You laughed—a raw and broken sound. It tore from your chest. “Good,” you said, putting the bottle down.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low. He tilted his head forward, his eyes zeroing in on you.

You shook your head, commanding your gaze to look anywhere else but his face. But sadness started to seep in, like icy venom running through your veins. Anger and humiliation took over so fast that you couldn’t stop the muscles of your face from contracting.

“My ex,” you choked out. “Remember him? The one I spent years with, the one who swore he would never be ready for commitment?”  

Wonwoo’s posture shifted slightly, his mouth parted with realization before you could even speak out the following words:

“He’s just got engaged,” you said, your tone breaking in the middle of your sentence. “He’s getting married to someone else. Someone good enough.”

The words were heavy, bitter on your tongue. And even if they weren’t true to some extent, they hurt to say.

Wonwoo’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He blinked slowly once, breathing in through his nose. And when he opened his eyes again, you saw anger flashing in his eyes. But you also saw pity in them.

You laughed again, the sound dry and almost miserable. “It’s not like I care about him,” you spat. “It’s not about him.” You looked down at your hands, trembling around the bottle of alcohol. “It’s about me.”

You finally raised your gaze, making eye contact with him. You hated the broken worry you saw in his eyes. The way his eyebrows twitched, and his dark eyes searched your face. You wondered what he was seeing in your face that made him react that way.

“It’s gotta be me, right? I have to be the common denominator,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s always me. I’m not good enough to stay for.”

You let out a sigh that sounded more like a sob. A broken moan of loneliness, heaviness. A storm that was brewing deep inside you, and it wasn’t just because of this recent turn of events.

“But that’s not it,” you said, hot tears brimming in your eyes as your voice rose: “It’s everyone. No matter what I do. I’m always someone’s almost.”

Your voice cracked in the last word, and you had to bit down on your lip to stop it from trembling.

Through the corner of your eye, you saw Wonwoo approaching, closing the space in your tiny kitchen. It was a cautious move, but steady. Determined.

“You’re not the problem,” he said firmly. “You’re better off without him. He’s an idiot.”

You laughed bitterly this time. “Right. Because Mingyu wasn’t another idiot who decided that I wasn’t enough either.”

Wonwoo flinched.

But you didn’t care if your words were harsh. You tipped the bottle between your lips again, downing the last bit of alcohol in it. You would feel its effects soon, and you were beginning to wonder if getting drunk was the right thing to do.

It would take the pain away. And you needed that.

“You really think I don’t know he fucked up?” Wonwoo said, his voice hard.

You blinked, your eyes snapping to his face.

But he continued, taking another step towards you. “You think I don’t see it? You didn’t deserve any of it,” he said, his voice raw, and there was an edge to it that you couldn’t understand. “Not from him. Not from anyone.”

You swallowed your tears, your heart thumping so hard that it was starting to hurt in your chest. “You don’t know me,” you whispered.

Wonwoo didn’t skip a beat. “I know enough.”

Perplexion hit you, and part of you wanted to pause and listen to what he was saying. The look of pity painting the features of his face made you think that you were probably looking more broken apart than you had initially imagined.

But before you could stop yourself, you huffed a laugh, letting your tears go. “And what happens when you get to know me more?” you snapped. “You’ll leave like the rest of them.”

The features of his face contracted slightly, your words hitting somewhere he wasn’t letting show. “You don’t know that—”

“Save it,” you cut in, but the sharpness in your voice had lost its edge. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like—” your voice broke, and you blinked away from his gaze. “—to never be enough. To love someone and then watch them walk away to someone new.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t turn this on me,” he said, his voice sounding rough. “Don’t tell me I don’t get it.”

“Then why do you have that look on your face?!” you shot back, wiping the tears with the back of your hand.

He ran a hand over his mouth, as though trying to smooth out the quiet rage that you had sparked. “You really think I don’t care,” he spat, the snappiness of his words making you flinch. He took another step, so close to you now that you could sense the storm shaking inside him. “You still think that I'm an asshole.”

Your breath hitched, making your brain swim inside your head. You were sure that it was the alcohol starting to take effect.

But you were also not equipped to hear this. You didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want to feel this. Not now.

But it was too late. You had fractured the only thing that held Wonwoo’s composure. It was then that you saw him. His hair was ruffled, wet with the few droplets of rain he had caught on the way here. His glasses had slipped down the perfect bridge of his nose. He looked messy, angry, and out of control.

He pointed at his chest. “You think I like sitting on the sidelines?” he said darkly. He never raised his voice at you, but he was breathing hard. “You think I like to watch you like this over the people who hurt you?”

You froze, your heart stammering painfully against your chest. His words had hit you like a slap. “W-what?” you breathed, so shocked that you had stopped crying.

His breathing turned ragged, he looked torn. Like he was trying with everything in him to stop himself. Every inch of him trembled with the force of what he wasn’t supposed to say to you.

“You’re not a second choice.” He rasped, letting out a short sigh through his nose. It was done now. Too late to take it back.

His words stunned you. You should’ve reacted quicker, were it not for the feeling making your heart flutter. “Wonwoo—” you pleaded, but you didn’t realize that your body was moving. Moving towards him.

His hands grabbed your face, his fingers burying themselves in your wet hair, just as your hands found the front of his jacket.

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was messy. Desperate. The kind of kiss that neither you nor he wanted, you could feel it in him. His lips captured yours with a vehemence that overpowered you completely. But your hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling him down into you like you needed him to breathe.

And Wonwoo kissed you back. He kissed you like he waited for so long to do that, his tongue brushed against your lip as he rolled it inside your mouth, tasting the alcohol in your tongue. He breathed out softly when he heard the broken moan he got out of you, and stopped.

You broke apart, panting. Wonwoo pressed his forehead against yours, and you realized as he dropped his hands from your face that he was shaking.

“I.. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raspy, low. He sounded lost. “I didn’t mean to, but...”

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice breaking.

But neither of you pulled away.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes. You wanted to cry. The very feeling that had made your heart flutter went wild, beating against your chest. You wanted to get rid of it—you wanted to rip your own heart out.

Slowly, Wonwoo peeled off your body, lifting his forehead from yours. You stepped back, your hands falling at your sides.

And with one deep breath, you raised your gaze to his face.

You had to put a hand on the counter for support. Your head started to swim with a remorseful pain. You knew this was wrong, but didn’t exactly know why. “Wonwoo—” you said, unable to raise your voice any higher.

“I should go,” he cut in, as though the weight of what he had done just caught up with him. “This was wrong. I shouldn’t have come here.”

But Wonwoo looked torn. His face was painted in sick worry, his eyebrows were drawn, his mouth slightly twisted. Somehow, his words cut you deeper. You nodded, agreeing with him, but it cost you to breathe normally.

However, he did not attempt to move. His eyes read your face, and his gaze softened when he saw your eyes brim with tears again.

“I understand,” you whispered, bringing your fingers to cover your mouth to hold in your sobs.

Except that you couldn’t understand. Not really. You couldn’t understand why kissing you was such a bad thing. Mingyu left you.

And you were always the one who made it easier for everyone to go.

You could feel Wonwoo’s scrutiny on you. The way he silently absorbed every emotion showing on your face. Your face tickled with shame, the sensation spreading and lingering all over you. You shrank under his gaze.

The rain pattered lightly on the windows, the quiet, distant lightning illuminated the room for a second. But the space between you was heavy with everything neither of you wanted to say, despite it being obvious.

You had crossed a line you wouldn’t be able to come back from.  

“I-I’ll walk you to the door,” you said, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence.

Then, you motioned to the door, walking past him in your tiny kitchen. Your shoulder brushed against his arm, feeling the way he moved towards you, his hand catching yours in one second.

You snapped your gaze to him, having no time to move or to stop him.

There was something in his eyes when you exchanged a short glance with him. He paused, but only to make sure that you wouldn’t back away.

Wonwoo kissed you again—this time more certain. There was no fumbling, no scrambling to get the kiss done in a rush. You closed your eyes, your hand searching for his wrist as he held your face, kissing you deeper.

His other hand found your waist, grabbing you to pull you into him. You could feel the warmth coming from his body, the way it seemed that he was still shaking, but it felt different this time. Like the quick beating of his heart wasn’t out of anxiousness of kissing you, but from finally doing it because he wanted to.

When you broke apart, both of you were panting, but Wonwoo didn’t stop kissing you. His lips brushed against your lower lip, giving you tiny, but feathery kisses that trailed to the corner of your mouth and to your cheek.

You could feel his quick breathing brushing against your skin, making it prickle. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your wet hair.

“This is wrong,” he repeated with a whisper, but now there was an air of finality in his tone. “But I want it.”

Your eyes fluttered closed again. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your spine. “W-what—I don’t understand, you said—”

“I wish I had answers right now,” he said, pulling back softly from you. He gave you a solemn look, his glinting eyes searching yours, searching for reasons to pull away from you, from this. “But I don’t think I can pretend any longer.”

“What?” you breathed warily, your heart skipping a beat.

He shook his head softly. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, taking a tiny step towards you. “I know that this is a lot for you right now. And I don’t have issues with stepping back, if that’s what you want.”

Everything inside you raged. It was a split-second of realizing that everything was upside down, everything was wrong. No matter what you felt, no matter how hard you tried, there was always something in the way.

And this time, your broken heart was the thing in the way.

“You deserve better,” you whispered. It slipped out before you could even stop yourself. You sounded raw and vulnerable.

His face shifted, his eyebrows knitted softly, his eyes reading your expression. “But I want you,” he said.

His words were like a thousand bricks falling on you. Everything that he told you came crashing down—about him being tired of being sidelined, of watching you torn apart for other people.

“I’m broken,” you whispered, and you wished to sound less angry about it, but there was an undeniable venom coating your words.

His fingers clenched your waist, resting his forehead against yours. “And I still want you all the same.”

You went still while your mind reeled with all the possible consequences that this might bring to your life. You were a mess.

“This is not a good idea,” you finally whispered. You were giving him all the reasons to walk away, to choose for himself before he let himself get involved with you.

His breath hitched slightly. “I know.”

You stepped back, but not far. You just wanted to look into his eyes, to get a read on what he so jealously protected with his mask. “Please…” you started, trying to select your words carefully, but your mind was swimming. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

One poison draws out another. Wonwoo remembered his friend’s words carefully.

His brows narrowed. “Don’t worry about me,” he whispered. And you realized that his hands had stopped shaking, but you knew he was still nervous about holding you this close.

You wanted to say something. You wanted to list out all of the reasons why you were not good for him.

But, God, you were lonely. And angry.

Wonwoo saw the quiet determination settling on the features of your face, making him step closer to hold you tightly to his body. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, one last confirmation before crossing that line, permanently.

Your head was swimming, but the determination weighed heavily in your heart. “I am,” you nodded. Then you slipped a hand on his nape, pulling him into a kiss just as he leaned towards you.

He circled your neck with one hand, holding you to kiss you fully, deeply. His lips fit with yours perfectly, moving seamlessly in a passionate way. This kiss was different, it was burdened with a heat that made you suspect he wanted to kiss you for a long time, but couldn’t.

This was wrong, but it felt so good.

And now, neither of you could stop. 

It soon dawned on you that Wonwoo wasn’t stopping either. A wave of need and arousal rose within you, wrapped with a bitterness that you should’ve stopped to pay attention to.

Your hands skirted over the pads of his jacket, starting to peel it off. He helped you, shrugging off his jacket and letting it drop to the floor. Wonwoo didn’t stop kissing you, and he did this with such force that you thought you could break.

Because that’s what you wanted. You wanted to be bad, to give in to the sticky feeling spreading inside your chest.

Neither of you stopped to talk, it was clear where the moment was leading down to.

Your movements were rushed, as though if you paused for longer than a second, you might start to regret this. You took his t-shirt off, messing up his glasses in the process.

Wonwoo smiled sheepishly, fixing his glasses back up. As he looked at you, there was an undeniable feeling that made your heart stutter.

You took his hand, staggering towards your bed, but Wonwoo pulled your body in before you could make it, quickly grabbing your hoodie to strip it off your body.

The hesitation, prudence, and any morsel of sanity that was holding you back evaporated. You fully gave in to the craving inside you once your clothes started to drop on the floor.

Wonwoo grabbed you by your bare waist, pulling you closer to his body to kiss you again. His hands roved all over your back, finding the clasp of your bra to undo it.

It happened fast, one by one, both of your clothes were discarded in between rushed kisses. None of you spoke a word, and you were thankful for that.

“Sit on the bed,” Wonwoo said with a rasp, his hands leaving your waist.

You obeyed without a second thought, sitting on the foot of your bed. Wonwoo pressed a knee on the edge of the bed, leaning over you and pushing you to lie back. His arms towered next to your shoulders, serving for support as he pressed his bare chest against yours.

He watched you for one long second, his gaze dark and lascivious. His hand returned to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip softly. “Stop me if you don’t want any of it,” he said.

“Wonwoo.” You called, feeling like you might just pass out from the wanton need brimming inside you.

“Mmn?” he raised his brows, his eyes studying your face.

You grabbed his face, holding his gaze. “Fuck me,” you whispered.

His eyes widened slightly. “How?” he replied.

“Just do it,” you said. But then, swallowing hard, you reconsidered. “Fuck me hard.”

 He showed you a grin. It looked wicked, almost feline. But before he could explain where the smile was coming from, he was leaning again, brushing his lips against yours slowly, lightly. “Dirty girl,” he whispered into your mouth, kissing it softly.

A low, breathy moan escaped you at the sound of those words. “Please,” you begged, your lips still brushing against his.

You didn’t have to ask twice. Wonwoo kissed you deeply, removing his hand from your chin to find your waist. He sank down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck, then down to your chest.

His wet lips on your skin awoke something within you. It had been so long since you felt something at all that your skin was already prickling at the slightest touch. He kissed your chest, his hands cupping your tits, pushing them to make them bulge. He planted soft, slow kisses around your nipples, pulling out his tongue to glide it on your areolas.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hands cupping the back of his head.

His lips wrapped around one of your perked nipples, tugging at it lightly as his thumb teased your other nipple, brushing his pad against it. He hummed lightly, giving your breasts a couple of open-mouthed kisses before he continued exploring your body further down.

Your head was spinning, and you had to force yourself to close your eyes. The sight of him getting down on his knees before the bed was so arousing to you that you shuddered from it.

He gently nudged your thighs apart, propping them on his shoulders as he leaned against your body to press his lips on your inner thighs. He taunted you with kisses, bringing out sweet moans from you as he came closer and closer to your dripping wet pussy.

“Please,” you whispered, feeling his breath fanning against your skin, the tip of his tongue brushing before he pressed another kiss on your inner thigh.

That was all he needed. His mouth was on you, licking you, tasting you. You arched your back off the mattress, your hands balling into fists around the covers. The first brush of his tongue against your folds made your whole body come to life.

You moaned loudly, closing your eyes so hard you saw stars. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” you cried out, already panting for air, making yourself dizzier.

He forced your thighs open, burying his mouth on your pussy like he had something to prove. He didn’t do the bare minimum, no. He licked every single inch of your cunt, exploring it with his tongue, and repeating the things that brought the loudest moans from you.

So he quickly realized that teasing your clit was the way to go. He wrapped his lips around your clit, pressing his tongue on it before starting to flick it from side to side.

You didn’t know what to do, between grabbing his hair or holding onto the covers, you felt like you were about to pass out from pleasure. Your head was spinning, your whole body tingling with your orgasm.

His fingers slid between your folds, finding your pooling entrance. The first slide of his fingers into you tipped you over the edge, tearing a loud, raspy moan from your chest. You went rigid, letting the fiery waves of your orgasm consume you wholly, making you whine and moan pathetically.

His fingers massaged into you, bringing out lewd, wet sounds from out of your cunt. He was now giving slow, thorough kisses, drinking in your arousal, moaning with you.

“Wonwoo…” you called weakly, brushing his hair back with tired fingers.

You were more than ready for him now.

So you sat up, trying to push him back so you could finish undressing him.

Wonwoo understood what you wanted without having to speak up. He rose to his feet, and your tummy twisted when you caught sight of his dishevelled form. His hair was ruffled, and his glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. There was a glistening wetness on his chin.

Your thumbs fumbled to take his boxers off, tugging at the waistband clumsily. You raised your gaze, finding his eyes before you pushed the last piece of clothing he wore down.

A sudden rush invaded you. There was no going back now. And you wanted this, you needed this.

You swallowed hard, revelling at the sight of his naked body. Wonwoo was lean, the muscles of his abdomen were well-defined, dipping between his bulging pectorals. His shoulders were wide, and his biceps were toned.

There was a soft, dark trail of hair from his belly button, which you followed down with your gaze. Your breath hitched. He was huge—not that girthy—but the length of it almost made you doubt whether it would fit inside you.

“You’re very sexy,” you stammered, looking away in shyness.

But he used a hand to cup your chin, tipping your head back so he could meet your gaze. “You’re very sexy too,” he said.

You gave him a small smile, grabbing his hand as you lay back on the bed. Wonwoo followed you, his body towering over yours.

He pushed one of your thighs with his knee, crawling on top of you and framing your head with his arms. His lips trapped yours in a feathery kiss, smearing your arousal on your chin.

He tensed, his breath hitching when you wrapped your fingers around his hard cock. “Do you have condoms?” he whispered.

“Mm-mmn,” you shook your head, rolling your hand all over him.

You lifted your knees to your chest, gliding the tip of his cock between your folds.

“Raw?” he breathed, still giving you sweet kisses.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded.

“Words, baby,” he said with a rasp, pulling away to look at your face. “Use them.”

You blinked at him slowly, not hiding the lust that was threatening to consume you whole. “Fuck me raw,” you pleaded.

Your words had an effect on him; his gaze darkened. He grabbed your wrists with one hand, driving them above your head and pinning them there. He notched his cock on your entrance, and that was the only warning he gave you before sinking inside you.

Your mouth dropped open, a silent gasp coming out of him as Wonwoo pushed his cock inside you, looking into your eyes, grabbing every detail, every reaction showing on your face.

Wonwoo blinked slowly, letting out a breath through his nose once he sheathed himself completely in your walls. “Fuck,” he whispered. And that might’ve been the first time you heard him cuss like that.

You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe. He released your hands, and you found his shoulders, your fingers shaking slightly against his skin.

Wonwoo trapped your lips with his, kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing against the roof of your mouth. Slowly, you felt your body relaxing, your walls fluttering and easing around him. You moaned into the kiss, just as he pulled his hips back slowly, making you feel every raw inch of his long dick.

You whimpered slightly as he pushed into you, still slow but deeper this time, his hips meeting yours with every thrust.

He slipped a hand beneath your head, his fingers curling around your hair. “You okay?” Wonwoo whispered, his lips lingering on yours slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, breathing fitfully. 

It was the only confirmation he needed before he drove into you, picking up a pace. Panting, he gave you a quick kiss on your lips before he started plowing on you.

He started fucking you hard, fast. As though the anger from the argument he had with you returned and he wanted to fuck the steam out of his system. His thrusts became rougher, calculated, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck, Wonwoo,” you whimpered, your mind going blank. “Please, please, don’t stop,” you were begging again, losing control. Pleasure started to build inside you again, and you were afraid that the alcohol you had consumed before was also pushing you closer to your second orgasm.

Wonwoo was panting, his breath brushing against your cheek before he kissed it. “Cum for me, baby,” he muttered darkly.

It was maddening to think that the shy, quiet and reserved guy could talk to you like that. Let alone, fuck you like that. And he was not slowing down, his thrusts were brutal, pushing his cock deeper each time.

You didn’t have the space to breathe, nor to give him any warning. You could only give him a couple of sharp gasps right before you orgasmed again. You cried out, the sound whiny, raspy, while your orgasm rippled through you.

Wonwoo groaned, feeling your pussy clamp tightly around his cock. Burying his face on the crook of your neck, you felt his laboured breaths, right before his lips latched onto your skin, sucking a lovebite into it.

“Fuck—Wonwoo,” you gasped. Unable to do anything else but give in to the sweet rapture.

Wonwoo heard you, peeling off your neck to kiss your lips swiftly. “Where do you want me?” he asked with a strangled tone.

You could feel your walls flutter around him at the sound of his words. You considered it for half a second, but then— “Inside,” you whispered. “Cum inside me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He grunted, leaning to press his forehead against yours. His fist tightened around your hair, just as his strokes became harder, and deeper, fucking his cum into you.

Wonwoo was panting tiredly as he dropped his face on the crook of your neck again.

You stared into the void, wrapping your arms around him, realizing that you body was shaking.

Slowly, as though coming to his senses, Wonwoo peeled off your body, but just barely. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. His glasses were slightly fogged, which he fixed with one hand. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head on your pillow.

Wonwoo’s brows knitted softly.

“I’m okay,” you replied, realizing your voice was hoarse, you swallowed. “I promise.”

He was still breathing hard, so he just smiled tiredly at you. He sat back on his haunches, gently pulling out of you. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You blinked at him dumbly.

He pointed with his finger to one side of his neck. “I did that,” he put in meekly.

You instantly brought a hand to your neck, right on the spot that was tingling and hot. “It’s okay,” you sighed.

Wonwoo paused, making sure that you were indeed alright. “Want me to bring you something to clean up?”

“No, I’ll just take care of it in the bathroom,” you said, rolling over on your bed. Once you stood on your feet, the whole room spun around you, making you giggle.

“Careful,” he said, springing into action. He rose from the bed, stretching an arm toward you to keep you from stumbling to the ground.

“I’m okay,” you said. Staggering to the bathroom, you got to see the red spot right on the curve of your neck.

But you couldn’t care less.

After weeks, you could finally feel something again. Something other than the fucking misery that seemed to follow you everywhere you went.

Part of you wondered when the moment would be to start feeling bad about this. But you realized that you were too tired to feel remorseful about fucking Mingyu’s best friend.

You’d feel dirty tomorrow.

Wonwoo’s phone buzzed somewhere on the floor. It was buried in the scattered clothes, beneath his jeans. He picked it up, his heart jolting nervously when he read Mingyu’s name on the screen.

“crashing late?” read Mingyu’s text.

Wonwoo chewed on his lower lip. “yeah, sorry, something came up” he replied.

You were back in the room, rummaging in your drawers, looking for a t-shirt to cover your bare body.

You didn’t notice the worry flashing across Wonwoo’s face. “Hey,” you called softly.

Wonwoo was already looking at you, thinking of what to do. “Hey,” he mumbled, giving you a tiny but sweet smile.

“Do you want to stay the night?” you asked meekly, realizing that your request might be too much, you added. “I don’t want to be alone,” you added with a note of sincerity.

The tight feeling trapping his heart eased. “Of course,” Wonwoo replied, locking his phone before climbing onto the spot next to you on the bed.

As you lay back, you sent him a fleeting glance, biting your bottom lip.

Wonwoo smiled when he saw the hesitation in your demeanor. “Come here,” he whispered, motioning you closer to him.

You gave him a light smile. “Okay,” you whispered, deciding to scoot closer to his body.

“We can cuddle, if that’s what you want,” he said with a knowing smile, despite the shyness he was exuding.

You let out a guilty giggle, realizing that you were subconsciously expecting aftercare with him. And Wonwoo was more than willing to give you just that.

“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled shyly.

“We just had sex, and you think I’ll consider cuddling weird?” he laughed.

“Just… shut up,” you sighed.

He didn’t reply, just watched you as you moved towards him beneath the covers. You rested your head on his chest, just as he wrapped an arm around you, hugging you comfortably to his frame.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice like velvet against your senses.

You tilted your head back, glancing at his face. “Yes,” you replied. “This is nice,” you told him, turning your head again to nuzzle against his warmth.

Wonwoo wrapped a hand around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Rest up,” he whispered gently, kissing your brow.

But you were already dozing off, only being able to reply with a sweet hum before you were completely gone.

Wonwoo waited until the rhythm of your breathing deepened to raise his phone, unlocking it to read Mingyu’s last messages.

“I regret everything,” the first message read.

And then the last two read,

“I want to fix it.

But I don’t know how.”

☾ author's note: alexa, play bittersweet

this author's note is to once again, thank you for your support! the feedback i got from the previous chapter. i was amazed by the amount of comments and asks that i got! 🥺 i still can't believe the amount of people who commented, reblogged and came to my inbox to say something! i love you all!

this post has been in my drafts since january 2024 🫥 and since i posted the previous part of this series, a lot, and i do mean a lot of you guys came to me with questions about whether or not i had something planned for our wonwoo. i didn't want to give too much away because it would've ruined what i had planned.

well, this is how wonwoo is going to debut in his own series; in the wicked games series.

fun, right? 🙂

same as always, y'all know the drill. if you have something to say, comment it down below, share your opinions anonymously, reblog, like this post, share it with your grandma 🙂

yell at me, if that's what you want but keep it civil :D

i love you, thank you for reading!

toodles

☆ READ PART VI! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

☾ author's note: it's finally here! sorry for the absence, i'll explain more in my second author's note at the end of the chapter.

this chapter has another long sex scene. it's 3k words long i'm sowwy. i'm sorrrrrry, i'm ovulating and i live vicariously through my yns lolololol tmi tmi aaahh.

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

fault lines

Jeon Wonwoo knocked on your door, knowing that it would be the end.

Because when you opened it, he could see it in your eyes. You had been crying, your skin was blotchy, and your eyelashes were clumped with tears. You lifted your gaze to meet him, and your lips parted, forming a word that never made it out.

Wonwoo couldn’t resist himself. Taking one step towards you, he wrapped you in a big, tight hug, hiding his face on the curve of your neck.

You gasped as you were completely embraced in his warmth and his scent. But you reciprocated the hug, wrapping your arms around him too.

“How are you?” he asked softly, lifting his head from your neck and stepping back.

“I’m… okay,” you said without making eye contact with him.

You closed the door just as he was removing his backpack from his shoulders and kicking his slip Vans off. You could see from the corner of your eye that he was trying to search your face, so you turned to the couch, dragging your feet towards it.

He followed you, sighing as the suspense hanging in the air threatened to strip him of his sanity. He knew that you had seen Mingyu earlier in the day, and he didn’t see Mingyu after your conversation, so he essentially knew nothing about what happened. Only the tremble in your voice told him that things hadn’t come out well for you.

And now that he could see the state you were in, he suspected the worst.

He swallowed hard, waiting for you to finish gathering your words. You pushed your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly in what Wonwoo had now categorized as a way to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Talk to me, please,” Wonwoo asked after a moment of silence.

You stopped looking into the void, your teary eyes finding him. “I’m pulling the brakes,” you muttered with a shaky tone.

Wonwoo understood immediately. But his already heavy heart sank, leaving his chest with a hollow sensation that he could only try to push down by clearing his throat. “I understand,” he nodded, looking down at his lap, where his finger fidgeted with the pocket of his cargo pants.

Silence fell in the room, made heavy by the tight feeling in his chest.

He told you he would accept your choice.

This was what you were choosing.

You hadn’t chosen him.

“Did you decide to give Mingyu a second chance?” Wonwoo asked. His tone was low, weakened with the anxiousness he was trying to swallow down.

You didn’t answer at first, making him raise his head to search your face. Something inside him eased when you shook your head. “We talked, but he didn’t ask for a second chance,” you mumbled, shifting your arms around you. “I think I need time. I need to think about what I really want… about what I need.”

He nodded, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. He experienced something that he hadn’t in a long time. One thing that he knew he would feel when he decided to kiss you for the first time. He felt the centre of his chest ache, the feeling spreading through his veins like some kind of poison.

It was heartbreak. 

“What do you want to do?” Wonwoo asked, realizing that his tone had thickened. But it didn’t matter, he still looked you in the eye. “Do you want me to go now?”

You bit your lower lip, shaking your head slowly. “Would it be selfish of me to ask you to keep me company tonight?” you whispered fearfully, lowering your gaze from him. “I understand if you want to leave. I just don’t want to be alone.”

It was then that Wonwoo understood one painful thing.

Initially, he had convinced himself that his role in this situation was to be your rebound. He had accepted being with you, fully aware that you were still hurting over Mingyu. But as time went on, he no longer felt like that was the case for you.

And he finally understood Mingyu. 

“Do you really want to pull the brakes?” he asked.

That made you look at him again. The question had touched something inside you, because you looked into his eyes and a spark of fear appeared in yours. “No, I don’t want to,” you muttered, your tone quivering with the same tinge of that spark.

He understood why Mingyu couldn’t leave before it got too late. Love came easily to you. You loved so easily and with such eagerness that it became addictive. Mingyu needed that when he met you. And Wonwoo… he was convinced he didn’t need love, he didn’t need anyone.

But that was before he met you.

“Why are you doing it, then?”

You shrugged, still wrapping your arms around your knees. “I’m confused,” you said, your tone waning and turning whispery. “And scared that I’ll hurt Mingyu,” you lowered your gaze again. “Or you.”

He nodded, also lowering his gaze. He knew that, like you, he would have to make a decision. One that was difficult for him, but in the end, he always knew it would come down to this.

He locked eyes with you. “I’ll stay tonight.”

Your features hardened slightly. “What are your conditions?”

“I’ll tell Mingyu about us,” he said, his tone becoming raw with emotion when he saw your eyes widen and brim with tears again. “I’m sorry, but I have to tell him.”

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding with small motions. You had thought for a split second to protect Mingyu’s emotions. But you knew that it was futile. “I agree. He has to know.”

He leaned toward you, wanting to get closer to you, grab your hand or something. “I’ll leave you alone. You won’t hear from me unless you want to,” he said, becoming impossible for him to speak, his throat was closing up. “I’ll let you have your space.”

You were sobbing more, tears kept rolling down your cheeks as you stared at your own hands. You nodded, unable to speak up.

Wonwoo licked his lips in a feeble attempt to keep his feelings at bay. But he leaned closer to you, now within reach to cup your face, commanding your gaze to him. “I believe that the first step toward healing is to stop punishing yourself for everything.”

Your gaze softened. “I am responsible for all of this,” you countered, your eyebrows knitting as anguish rose in your chest. “I’ve been selfish, and now look at what has happened.” Your eyes glistened, lip quivering. “Mingyu’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t hate you,” he asserted at once, his tone gentle. He threaded a piece of your hair with his fingers, tucking it behind your ear. “I’ll explain everything to him, he’ll understand. But don’t believe that he’ll hate you because that’s just not who he is.”

Your gaze changed. You wanted to believe the certainty in his words, but the burden in your heart made it impossible to do so.

A pause followed, tense and heavy with the silence that distanced you from Wonwoo. Your heart ached to take back your own words, you wished to be in a scenario in which it didn’t have to hurt so much to love him and Mingyu at the same time.

But you saw it now. The breach between the person you were now and the person you were with Mingyu. You almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were so eager to love Mingyu, so willing to give him your heart and accept the broken pieces of his. And now, you were on the other side, loving Wonwoo but with a broken heart.

You hated what you had become. You hated that your desire for love and to be loved had pushed you to do something you’d never imagined you would do.

“Can you forgive me?” you asked, your tone tiny and weary with tears.

Wonwoo’s gaze softened. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he immediately responded, even though his chest was constricted with an awful feeling.

Your shoulders eased, as though a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Wonwoo saw it too, and he outstretched an arm to you, grazing your elbow with the tips of his fingers.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your attention to him. “Come here,” he told you gently, holding his arms out for you.

You simply couldn’t resist. You crawled next to him, his arms wrapping around you in a hug. He immediately brought his lips to your head, kissing your hair.

“I think you’re doing what’s right,” he muttered, his mouth still close to your head, so he simply pressed his lips against yours again and again.

You giggled softly. His soft pecks trailed down until his lips met your ear, making you shudder in his arms, trying to recoil from the tickling sensation of his breath against the shell of your ear.

You turned over, now able to see his face.

Wonwoo was tired. That much you knew from just one look. He had dark circles around his eyes, and his lips were slightly dry. “What?” he whispered, studying your face as he waited for your answer.

He flashed you a smile that, though genuine, looked tired. You ran a hand under his chin, noting the slight stubble. “You could use a shave,” you whispered tenderly.

He smiled at you, raising his eyebrows a little. “Yeah? You don’t like it?”

“Oh no, I like it,” you asserted, your tone falling, inevitably turning honeyed. “I like it very much.”

“Do you want me to shave it?” he said, looking at your face as you rubbed the back of your fingers against his stubble.

“Only if you want to,” you shrugged ever so slightly. “I just think it’s out of character for you.”

He clicked his tongue. “Is it itchy when I kiss you?” he asked, the genuine curiosity in his tone was unmistakable.

“You haven’t really kissed me today,” you pointed out gently, your tummy tightening with anxiousness.

The corner of his lip curved lightly. “Is that an invitation to kiss you?”

You blinked slowly, a smile creeping on your face. “Maybe.”

“I don’t do maybe. It’s either yes or no,” he said softly, tracing the features of your face with his gaze, lingering on your lips and then returning to your eyes.

“Wonwoo.”

“Mm?” he hummed, slightly raising his eyebrows.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

A fluttering sensation went wild inside you at the sight of his smile, but this was fleeting as he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own. The first kiss was tender, marked by a sweetness that you almost compared to love. The moment stretched, and his lips lingered on your own, not kissing you anymore but not stepping back either.

Kissing you was like meeting the petals of a rose with his lips. Your lips were always soft, always welcoming. He loved kissing you like he loved listening to the sound of your laughter.

He swallowed hard, a shaky sigh coming out of him before he kissed you again. This time, the kiss was harder, more eager to feel your lips between his own. You instantly let out a short moan in his mouth, feeling the wetness of his full lips against your own.

Wonwoo tensed slightly against your body. He loved hearing the sounds he brought out of you. A thing stirred in his mind whenever he thought that it was he who made you feel this way. He dove into your lips again, kissing you fervently, showing you the need that was brimming inside him.

Wonwoo loved you. And this was the last time he would have a chance to prove it.

Something came over him. A feeling so desperate that he felt it shift beneath his skin, pushing him to kiss you harder, to lock his lips with yours with more fervency.

“I need you,” he whispered, his heart beating frantically in fear of rejection.

“Wonwoo—” you started, but cut yourself off with a short sigh. “Are you sure? I mean, what about tomorrow?”

“I can leave first thing in the morning,” he said, hating how desperate he sounded, but he had no choice but to give in to his heart’s desires. He closed his eyes, pushing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

You slid your hands on his neck, locking your fingers to pull him into another kiss. Wonwoo hummed into the kiss, sliding his hands down to find your waist, tugging you to him.

You followed his silent command, crawling on top of his body and sitting down on his lap. “Is that what you want? To leave like nothing happened?” you asked right before diving on his lips again.

Wonwoo pulled back for a moment, his lips creating a soft smacking noise. “It wouldn’t be like nothing happened,” he said. His eyes studied your face for one long second. “It’ll give you the opportunity to start fresh. Without me.”

You knew what he meant. But that only drove the breach further, deepening your confusion. You wanted space to think, but you didn’t want to stop feeling this: his body next to yours, the comfort his words gave you. Maybe it was stupid to ask for space when you knew you didn’t want to be alone.

You needed to regain your sense of self.

Wonwoo felt your hesitation. You felt him pause, the slight shift when he took a shaky breath. “Please… just one more night,” he whispered carefully.

You could sense the desire in his words alone. But your heart was riddled with anxiety and sadness over this whole thing. “What if I can’t let you go afterwards?” you asked shakily.

“Then I’ll stay,” he replied firmly. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Hesitation came over you, tangled with questions and fears of what might happen if you had sex with him again. Your relationship with him was already twisted—and you knew that sleeping with him again would only complicate things more.

You had asked him to stay the night, but you hadn’t meant it that way. And you knew he knew this.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he whispered.

Your heart faltered. It was crazy to you that he could sense what you were feeling with just a second of pure silence.

“Wait, I—” you started, bringing a hand to his chest over his clothes to push yourself back.

The first thing he did was study your face, as though he needed to gather every detail, every emotion you let show.

Something rewired in your brain—this was the last night you would get with him. This was a choice made purely by your inability to face your own guilt for hurting Mingyu. But if you had known back then that he was going to break up with you the day after spending the night in your bed, you would’ve done things differently.

You closed the tiny space between you and Wonwoo, touching his forehead with your own. “I do want it,” you whispered, a hint of fear making your tone quiver. “I just don’t want to hurt you more.”

His hand slipped beneath your chin. “Don’t worry about me,” he replied, his voice barely audible. He pressed his lips to your own for a long second, backing away slightly with a satisfying smacking sound. “I need you,” he whispered, making you feel the soft brushing of his lips against yours.

And that did it for you. You gave in, kissing him fully, locking your lips with his. He let out a strangled sound into the kiss when he felt you concede, when he felt your limbs starting to move, crawling on his lap.

His hands found the curve of your waist, pulling you in as you sat on top of him, lowering your crotch against his. You moaned slightly when you felt the tip of his tongue brush your lower lip, rolling inside your mouth with expert ease.

You grabbed his head, fingers slipping through his dark and messy hair. A raspy sound reverberated in his chest when you let your fingernails run on his scalp. He reacted impulsively, using his hands to press you harder against his body.

Hearing that sound and receiving that kind of reaction only fueled you more. Your fingers curled around his hair, and then you pulled, yanking his head back. He gasped softly when your lips separated, his eyes fluttering open to see your face.

“Fuck,” he whispered, swallowing nervously.

You arched an eyebrow. “I knew you liked having your hair pulled, but I didn’t know it was this bad,” you teased.

He blinked slowly, recovering. “Don’t get too excited,” he said, his voice low and raspy. But he smiled softly at you, his hands shifting from your waist to your thighs, pushing his fingertips onto your bare skin.

“Mmm,” you hummed, leaning to plant a taunting kiss on his wet lips. “You just gave me an idea,” you said playfully. Cradling the back of his head with your hands, you just grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling it firmly and slowly.

He let out a short, breathy laugh, his hands sliding down your legs, feeling your skin freely. “You keep giving me reasons to spank you,” he whispered, moving a hand to meet your cheek.

Your fingers relaxed around the strands of his hair. “That sounds like fun,” you smirked.

He brought you closer so he could press his lips against yours. “But I don’t want that right now,” he countered.

You trapped his lower lip between your teeth, making him gasp softly. “What do you want, then? Mm?” you asked sultrily, keeping your voice low.

His hand left your cheek, and a second later, you felt it playing with the hem of your tank top, lifting it so he could sneak his hand underneath. You flinched when his hand pressed in the small of your back, pressing gently.

“I want to make love to you,” he said, enunciating each word with a waning tone. “I want…” he sighed, and you understood that sound to be from wanton need. “I want to feel you. God, I need you.”

You smiled against his lips before kissing him again. “How?” you whispered. “How do you want me?”

He didn’t skip a beat. “Naked,” he said huskily. “I want to see you first.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, making you hide your face against the curve of his neck. He instantly flinched at the sensation of your breath fanning against his skin. You didn’t think you could have enough grace to give him a show, so you initially hid.

You heard a soft laugh from him, his hand snaking underneath your shorts, feeling your thigh. You responded by pressing your lips against his neck, kissing him tenderly, tauntingly.

A strangled sound landed against your ear. “Baby,” he drawled. But he tilted his head back, letting you shower him with kisses on his neck.

You slipped a hand down his chest, feeling him sigh and relax with your kisses while his hand travelled up your back. Your skin prickled at the caress of his fingers, making your nipples pert and harden.

You pressed your chest against his, lifting your head to kiss his lips. “Okay, I’m going,” you replied impishly, climbing off his lap clumsily.

Now standing before him, you were unable to hide from his gaze. You had to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from hyperventilating as you pinched your tank top with your fingertips, pulling it up your torso slowly.

He had to tilt his head back slightly to follow the travel of your tank top, revealing more and more skin as you got it off your body. You saw him part his lips, taking in a deep breath as his gaze roved all over your skin.

Something made you think that there was more in his eyes than just lust. Wonwoo just looked at you so slowly, so tenderly that for a second, you forgot that the moment was supposed to be sexy.

But his gaze darkened when you unclasped your bra, letting it fall on the floor. Your clothes were beginning to pile at your feet, but you didn’t care. You were now strangely allured by the way Wonwoo kept looking at you, as though he wanted to memorize everything.

You were his for tonight. And he wanted to enjoy it.

Your heart was pounding frantically when you slid your shorts down, stepping out of them. You were becoming increasingly more aroused as the seconds went by, and the unique sensation danced beneath your warm skin. You were sure the shyness was showing on the features of your face.

But he never blinked away. He swallowed hard when you discarded your panties, too, now fully naked in front of him.

He reached out to grab your hand, pulling you towards him. His other hand came to your hip as he leaned forward to press a kiss on your belly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

Your hands found the back of his head, cradling it as he littered your lower tummy with sweet kisses. His lips continued trailing down, meeting your mound. You flinched, pulling his hair as an automatic reaction.

He paused, sending you a dark look.

“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly. “I need you.”

“Lie down on the couch,” he motioned to the space next to him.

Nervously, you followed his instruction as he rose to his feet, taking his jacket off and white t-shirt altogether. Your eyes followed him as he knelt on the floor, grabbing one of your legs and resting it on his shoulder.

He made no pause, wasted no time. He just leaned over, pressing his lips on your mound again before he started kissing your pussy. The feeling gave you whiplash, disconnecting you from reality for a moment. You let your head drop back, enjoying the feeling of his mouth against your folds, just teasing and kissing.

He licked a fat stripe of your arousal, humming softly as you tensed on the couch, letting him eat your pussy out. You cradled his head once again, dropping your mouth to let a long breath out.

There was a moment of silence. You were completely unable to voice out the pleasure you were subdued to, and Wonwoo was busy kissing your pussy. The only sounds you could hear were the smacking wet of his lips and tongue pleasuring you.

But he didn’t go far. He just kissed you, teased you—never deciding to take you higher.

“Wonwoo,” you called softly, lifting your head to see him.

You saw his lips wrapping around your clit, almost like making out with it. You understood that he wasn’t even trying to edge you, he just wanted to kiss your pussy, delight on the taste of it.

“Please… more,” you asked softly.

But he wasn’t stopping, nor giving you signs that he’d do what you were asking of him.

“Wonwoo, more,” you repeated more salaciously. But then, you bucked your hips, bumping his face with your cunt.

He groaned, pulling back from you. “Brat,” he reproached, lifting a hand and bringing it down on your thigh quite harshly.

You yelped pathetically. “Wonwoo—!”

“You wanted that, didn’t you?” he taunted, his eyes glinting with some kind of fascination.

You couldn’t reply vocally, just gaped at him before giving him a slow nod.

A smirk crept on his lips. “Is it too much to ask that you be a good girl for me?”

“I’m being good,” you replied with a playful tone.

“Yeah,” he sighed, raising his eyebrows. “Right.”

You closed your eyes as he lifted his hand again, slapping your thigh again. Your limbs tensed, but you couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching around nothing.

“Fuck,” you gritted, your skin getting hot and tingling from the fleeting pain.

Wonwoo rose to his feet, tucking his thumbs under the elastic band of his black sweatpants, pushing them down along with his boxers. And despite him not really giving you a show, you enjoyed the way his cock slapped his lower abdomen, standing fully hard.

“Get on the bed,” he snapped, motioning to your bed.

You were barely registering your limbs. But you stood up, walking to your bed with him following you. You were about to lie down on your bed when you felt his hand patting your ass gently.

“Hands and knees. Facing the headboard,” he said.

You crawled on your bed on your hands and knees, facing the wall. You itched to see him, to feel him again.

His hand cupped your pussy, his fingers sliding between your wet folds, smearing your arousal all over your cunt. His middle finger slipped inside your wet pussy, pushing inside your walls once, twice and then he pulled it out.

“Wonwoo,” you mewled, pushing your cunt against his hand.

“Hold onto the headboard, baby,” he said softly, and as you did, you felt his hands gripping your hips.

And then he pushed his dick in, not giving you warning, nor time to adjust. Wonwoo started thrusting his cock into your pussy in a near-feral pace. You moaned loudly, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you saw stars.

You realized that he was giving you what you wanted—to be fucked, hard and passionately. It was the only way he knew you felt alive, felt something.

The way he started moaning almost drove you to the edge. It wasn’t his cock, hitting that glorious spot repeatedly, it was the reactions he got form fucking your pussy hard and fast. Wonwoo was moaning, grunting almost. His hands gripping your waist started to squeeze your skin, barely holding himself back.

“God, fuck,” he sighed in pleasure. “I love how you squeeze around me, baby,” he said breathlessly. And you could almost picture his face riddled in pleasure, him tilting his head back, leaving his neck open, his throat bobbing.

“Wonwoo,” you cried out, holding onto the headboard that kept bumping against the wall. His hips snapping against yours were creating a very obvious sound, and you could no longer contain your moans.

So the room was quickly filled with the sound of hard sex. The slapping of skin, Wonwoo’s quiet but raspy moans and your cries of pleasure. You tried suppressing your sounds by biting your bottom lip, but the sounds instead sounded even more pathetic. You sounded almost like a whimpering animal.  

“Fuck, babe,” you sighed, unable to do something other than angling your hips for his ruthless thrusts. “Wonwoo—please, don’t stop,” you drawled languidly, verging closer to your release.

A moan came out of him, raspy and urgent, as though the sounds you were making for him were only inciting him further. “Fuck, you’re being so good for me, baby,” he praised.

The pleasure was nearly suffocating. You felt it everywhere, and you knew he wasn’t going to stop soon, so you just let your mind go blank, leaving your body at the mercy of his feral thrusts.

You sank to your elbows, pressing your face against your pillows. The change in position only made the pleasure higher, consuming you quickly. You moaned loudly, not caring about anything and just let your orgasm wash over you.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me,” he gasped, feeling your walls clenching around his cock and listening to the sounds you were muffling against your pillow.

Your hands balled into fists on your bed covers, trying to hold onto something as your orgasm tore through you. But it was quick, letting you come down from it as Wonwoo kept ramming his cock into you. “I’m close, baby, g-god—” he groaned.

He leaned his body over, chest pressing against your back, quite literally trapping you with his body. You felt his mouth against your nape, heard the strangled sounds he made. “You’re my fucking girl,” he whispered hoarsely while rutting into you desperately. “All fucking mine,” and then his thrusts became deeper, slowing down as he fucked his cum deep into you.

He kissed your hair and shoulder, breathing erratically against your skin. “Turn over,” he rasped, pulling away from you.

You were in no position to question him. You turned over, eyeing him curiously as he stood before you on his knees. He was still hard, his length completely covered in your arousal, his cum leaking from the tip.

He pressed his elbows on your pillow, framing your head.

You watched him intently, his gaze was still darkened, heavy with lust. And you could tell he wasn’t done with you by the way he captured your lips in a swift kiss. “Wonwoo,” you called softly.

“Mm?” he replied shortly.

Your hands were roving up and down his naked back, feeling his skin as he kissed your lips. Your breath caught when he pressed his hips against yours, making you feel his hard cock, his soft pubic hair—you gulped.

“Nothing,” you finally replied with a light giggle.

“Tell me,” he immediately mumbled, kissing your face slowly.

Your hands stopped caressing his body, stopping at his shoulders to push him off slightly. Wonwoo understood well, pulling back to lock eyes with you.

You didn’t need to speak—you just gave him that look, trying to convey without words what you weren’t quite ready to tell him yet. You wanted him. You wished for things to be different, to live in a scenario where you loved both men freely.

Wonwoo parted his lips, something waiting at the tip of his tongue. But he bit it back too, resorting to just nodding at you, and he didn’t need to say anything either.

You reached between your bodies, finding his cock to stroke it languidly. “You okay?” you whispered, guiding his cock to your wet pussy.

He nodded, leaning over to meet your lips with his own, at the same time he slipped inside you. And like the first time, he didn’t waste time and started pushing in and out of your walls. But the rhythm of his thrusts was completely different. It was gentle now, deep and slow.

You slid a hand on your pillow, trying to slip it under his once you found it. Wonwoo grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours and switching his weight on his elbows.

He wanted this—to make love to you while looking at your face.

You cupped his face with your free hand, holding his gaze as he pushed into you languidly. You thought of saying something, of telling him how he made you feel. But your heart faltered as you looked into his dark eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in between short breaths.

His thrusts were picking up the pace, and you knew that he was close from the short gasps that spilled from his pretty lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, needing more of his touch, more of the pleasure he could give you.

He closed the space between his mouth and yours, moaning deeply when your tongues touched. You kissed him, kissed him until you ran out of breath, until you felt your pleasure blooming under your skin, spreading relentlessly. You wanted to cum, you needed to feel him deeper.

You pushed your knees up, angling your pussy for his cock. Blindly, you felt Wonwoo’s hand on your thigh, finding the back of your knee and pulling it over his shoulder, pushing deeper into your pussy. You cried out into the kiss, moaning pathetically.

He broke the kiss quickly, breathing fitfully against your mouth. “You close?”

You nodded quickly. “Please,” you gasped, circling your arm on his back, holding onto him as he kept moving on you.

“I’m close too,” he whispered, pushing his forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes, feeling like you could sob. “Together?” you whispered.

Wonwoo nodded, the grip around your hand becoming tighter. And you just let yourself go, holding his hand, moaning his name repeatedly. You squeezed his hand back, and his thrusts became deeper. This orgasm was different, as fleeting as the first but somehow lingering in your body, sizzling beneath your skin.

“Wonwoo,” you sobbed.

He quickly brought his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as his thrusts slowed down and then stopped completely. But you kept making out with him, as though neither of you could speak and resorted to kissing each other fervently.

But both of you needed to breathe eventually. While both of you recovered and came down from your high, Wonwoo nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, pulling out of you gently.

The quiet settled in.

Misery crept over you before he could even move. You didn’t want to see it. But it was becoming more and more obvious as the time for him to go drew nearer. You knew that once you were alone, it would be unescapable.

Wonwoo rested his head on your chest, his arms sneaking underneath your back, hugging you. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to relish the moment, to try and memorize the smell from your skin, your clothes.

Your hand found the back of his head, slowly starting to thread his hair through your fingers.

He knew there was nothing left to say. He knew what he was getting himself into.

For a moment, he wondered what his life would look like if this were just a normal night and he was just staying over at his girl’s house. He squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the thought.

“Are you sleeping any time soon, babe?” Your tiny voice broke the silence. You were still caressing his head, trying to soothe him to sleep.

But he resisted.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t want to.”

“But you have to,” you whispered, your voice waning, and that was how he knew you had started to tear up again.

He lifted his head, his glasses falling back in place as he found your face. Your eyes were teary, eyelashes clamped together in their wetness. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, rolling over and lying next to you.

You turned to him, following him instinctively. “You have work tomorrow,” you said.

Wonwoo paused, looking at the features of your face, softened by the pain and anguish you were feeling. “But I won’t see you tomorrow,” he whispered.

The impact of his words showed on your face. You blinked several times, your mouth parting slightly as your lip quivered. You looked away, down to his chest, and more tears sprang from your eyes.

“Hey,” Wonwoo called softly, bringing two fingers under your chin to make you look back at him. Once your eyes were on him, he thought of what to say. But no words came, nothing he could say to soothe the pain you were feeling, nothing he could say to make it better.

It this was the last time he would be close to you, he had to make it count. And he did. He kissed you, he showed you how much he loved your body, your face. How much you’ve made him happy just by being with you.

But he wanted to allow himself to be just a little more selfish.

You were starting to wonder about the reason behind his silence, his hesitation. Your eyes searched his face, your eyebrows quirking a little.

Wonwoo was overwhelmed by a sudden rush of nervousness, not knowing how you’d take this, unsure if he was making things better or slightly worse. But he had to say it. At least once before the morning came. “I love you.”

You blinked. You stopped breathing. Part of you knew, hoped that this was going to happen.

It didn’t make you change your choice. But still, it made your heart fuller.

He was brimming with uncertainty. It was the first time he uttered those words in years. And he only did it under the most traditional circumstances. He hated himself for being so nervous of rejection, of adding to the weight of his guilt for falling in love with you.

“I love you too,” you said, cupping his cheek to kiss him tenderly.

Wonwoo reciprocated the kiss, feeling his heart fuller, like he was allowed to breathe again. He broke the kiss, but only for a moment. He thought of what you’d feel like when the time came for him to leave, and felt like dying a little. Even though he respected your choice, he didn’t want to leave.

One thing he’d learn about you is that you were strong. All you’ve shown him this time he’s met you is that your heart is strong, and so full of love. He wished—desired more than anything—to see you put all that love into yourself.

“Can I ask one thing?” he whispered, and then smiled a little. “Well, another thing.”

“Anything,” you replied in kind, looking into his eyes.

“Please don’t blame yourself for this,” he said, carefully selecting his words. “Whatever happens with Mingyu, please don’t believe this is your fault.”

You gave him a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re asking too much from me,” you said. “I knew what I was doing, Wonwoo. I could’ve pulled the brakes long before this got too complicated.”

“Still,” he whispered, his eyelids falling heavily. “I don’t want you to carry this burden like it’s only yours. If anything, the burden is more mine than yours.”

The features of your face contorted slightly in a pout, which broke with the sob that tore through you. But you were quick, smashing your lips against his in a hard kiss, one that told him that you didn’t want to break this off.

But you had to.

“I love you, Wonwoo,” you whispered.

And your words brought an inexplicable feeling to him. It gave him one very optimistic certainty—it gave him hope. A kind of hope that was twisted.

“I love you,” he replied with a lazy drawl, his eyelids falling close now.

Once he was completely asleep, you could also rest. But sleep didn’t come as easily for you, and part of you refused it as a petty form of punishment. You resorted to observing him in the dark, outlining the features of his face while he was peacefully asleep. There was no worry deepening his brow, or any fondness curving his lips.

He had tucked one of his arms beneath the pillow, while the other was perched lazily on the curve of your waist. His head was slightly leaned forward, so close to yours that you only had to push yourself a little to touch his forehead with your own.

You breathed slowly to not disturb his peace, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, anchoring yourself to it, letting it lull you to sleep too. You closed your eyes, not thinking that this was the last time you’d see him in your bed, so close to you.

You didn’t want to think of it—about the finality of your love life. About how fleeting your story with Wonwoo was. But you realized the end had started the moment you both kissed.

But you had the certainty that it was ending, at least.

With your eyes closed, you tried memorizing the feeling of having him near, the weight of his body making the mattress dip, the way the bedsheets wrapped around your body and his.

You were terrified of being alone. You had thought that you were breaking things with Wonwoo because of the guilt you felt for loving Mingyu and hurting him. But the reality was, you were terrified of what you were turning into.

The thought persisted in your mind, but thankfully it allowed you to sleep. You tried to keep yourself light, so you could feel him while you slept. But somewhere in the night, your sleep became heavier, making you forget about your worries.

Because as soon as you woke up, you knew Wonwoo had left. His warmth was long gone when you turned under the bedsheets, and every single one of his belongings was nowhere to be seen.

He was gone.

And maybe he’d left before you woke up to make the last thing he said to you one sincere I love you. Maybe he left before you woke up, so he didn’t drag the torture out longer. But it didn’t soften the blow for you.

You sat up, looking around even though you knew that you were alone. Looking down, you sighed, bringing your hands to your face, too tired to cry, too tired to do anything at all.

You were a mess.

Never learned a thing.

Back to square one.

The Spot was still closed.

Wonwoo arrived before anyone else. Being the only other person who owned the key besides Seungcheol, he just started his shift earlier. He didn’t mind being in silence; in fact, he enjoyed it. It gave him peace of mind, and it soothed his heart.

He was tired, there was no doubt about that.

When he woke up it was already ten in the morning, and he needed to go. His heart twisted upon remembering the way you were still asleep, huddled in your bedcovers. But he forced himself to leave before you woke up, or else, he never would.

So there he was, feeling like shit. He went into the bathroom with his backpack still hanging on his shoulder. But he had everything he needed to help himself put together, more human.

He brushed his teeth with mechanical movements, not really paying attention to it, but just performing everything from muscle memory. He washed his face. He wet his hair and tried to comb it with his fingers, remembering the way you threaded his hair to help him sleep. 

It was going to be one tough way to get you out of his system.

He’s had breakups before, of course. But he didn’t think he could even call this a breakup—you were never his girlfriend to begin with.

But god, it sure hurt like it.

He walked out of the bathroom after putting on some deodorant and lotion, feeling more refreshed.

Then, from the corner of one fridge, he got a Monster and opened the can. The loud hiss was paired with the sound from the door to the backroom opening.

“Nice breakfast,” Seungcheol pointed out, leaving his laptop on the countertop and moving to remove the locks from the front door. “You looking rough, my friend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wonwoo said, keeping his head down. “But I’m okay.”

“Sure thing,” Seungcheol said with a huff.

“Well, I’m here. I can work just fine,” he said.

Seungcheol paused, placing his hands on his hips as he took one long look at Wonwoo. “You’ve always intrigued me with one thing.”

Wonwoo set the drink aside, crossing his arms. “And what’s that?”

“You’re always here,” he shrugged. “The others come and go, they don’t get too hooked with this place, but you?  You’ve never missed a day.”

“I’m sure I have missed one day,” Wonwoo said with a light smile, one that felt unsure.

“Not to my knowledge,” Seungcheol replied. “And don’t get me wrong, I love having you here. You could run the bar with your eyes closed, it’s something even I can’t do.”

“Come on, boss,” he sighed. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I mean it,” Seungcheol pouted slightly. “I don’t know what happened to you. But this is the worst I’ve ever seen you,” he lifted one hand, as though demonstrating the state Wonwoo was in. “And look at you. You’re still here, not calling out.”

Wonwoo emitted a short laugh. “Do you want me to call out?”

Seungcheol looked at a loss of words. “I mean, I would grant it to you.”

“That bad I look, huh?”

The door opened once again, but now resounding across the bar with a powerful crack, revealing Mingyu. Wonwoo watched as Mingyu approached with a determined step, fear gripping him wholly when he saw the dark and dangerous look in his best friend’s eyes, dead set on him.

“It was you,” Mingyu said, his voice low, so low. “You knew I saw you with her and you didn’t say a fucking word.”

Wonwoo held his breath, his heart beating so hard against his chest that it made his voice uneven, but he remained determined: “I couldn’t tell you before.”

“What so you let me walk in there like a fucking idiot?” Mingyu said, stepping closer. “You let me sit for fucking days thinking she hated me while you—what? Were seeing her?”

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened, every nerve inside him firing with anxiety. But he did not move. “That’s not how it was.”

But Mingyu wasn’t listening. “Since when?” He asked, breathing fitfully. “Since when did you two start seeing each other?”

Wonwoo knew this was not helping the situation at all. But he had to be honest. It was everything he had now. “A month after you walked away,” he answered.

Mingyu gave him a humourless laugh. “Yeah? Very convenient timing.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. Not at first,” Wonwoo said, the words escaping him before he could think twice about them. “She was hurting. And I was there.”

Mingyu’s gaze snapped to Wonwoo’s face. “Don’t. Don’t make it sound like some noble thing! You told me that the right thing was to end things with her,” he said, his tone sharpening in anger and disgust. “Admit it—you were waiting for your fucking turn.”

All caution flew out the window. Wonwoo’s gaze darkened. “I waited because I thought that maybe you’d get your shit together. I told you to talk to her. Call her. I told you to show up. But you never did.”

“You have no idea what I was dealing with!” Mingyu fired back.

“Because you shut everyone out!” Wonwoo replied. “You shut her out. Me.”

Rage flickered in Mingyu’s eyes. “You knew I love her. All this time, you knew.”

Wonwoo’s mouth parted, not holding himself back now. “Well, you didn’t act like it.”

“Hey, both of you. Calm down,” Seungcheol called, his voice stern and unquestionable.

But Mingyu was blinded, and his ears were buzzing. “You knew I was trying to protect her from my mess,” Mingyu breathed. He pointed a finger at Wonwoo’s face. “All while you were pretending to be the savior.”

Wonwoo stared him down, rage rising inside him in dangerous waves. “I didn’t pretend shit. And you didn’t protect her—”

“You wanted me to let her go. Admit it!” Mingyu spat.

“You left her hanging when shit got too real for you.”

Mingyu looked like he was struggling to breathe, his shoulders were tense, his hands flexing at his sides. “So what, that gave you the right to step in?” he huffed, his eyes wild with anger, and something more.

“No,” Wonwoo replied. “But you made it clear that you weren’t going to.”

It happened quickly—Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the shirt and slammed him back into the shelves. Bottles clattered above, Seungcheol coming to grab Mingyu from behind, hooking an arm around his torso, reeling him back.

But Mingyu wrestled against it, rage fueling his whole body. “She was mine—”

“No, she wasn’t!” Wonwoo cut in, finally raising his voice. His eyes widened in exasperation after being pushed back. But he didn’t relent. “Not anymore. You walked away. I was there to see her fall apart. Not you.”

“And then what?” Mingyu spat, his voice rising, gaining a raspy edge: “You—you thought you’d be the better man?”

“No. I thought she deserved someone who actually stayed.”

That did it.

Mingyu stood there, his body completely rigid to the exception of his face. He was breathing hard, grinding his teeth as though biting his words back. There was a glint in his eyes, the words had stung.

Unblinking, his fist flew before he could exert any kind of control over himself. His knuckles found the centre of Wonwoo’s mouth, making his head snap back, and sending his body back against the shelves.

The bottles behind him rattled, one of them tipping over and falling beside Wonwoo’s feet.

It was fast and sharp—pain tickled instantly inside his mouth, spreading all over the soft tissue inside his lip. Instinctively, Wonwoo staggered back, bringing a hand to his mouth as blood trickled down his open lip. He caught himself, dazed, shocked and worst of all—hurt.

Mingyu froze.

Wonwoo raised his eyes at Mingyu, waiting for the next blow but it never came. Mingyu dropped his fist at his side like it had suddenly gotten burned. Like it had betrayed him.

“Wonwoo—” he started, his voice shaky and strangely hollow. “I didn’t mean—”

“Enough.”

Seungcheol’s voice cracked between them like lightning. He brought a hand to the centre of Mingyu’s chest, easily pushing him back. “The fuck’s wrong with you two?”

And Mingyu didn’t fight him this time. He staggered back too, looking pale and shaken, his eyes set on Wonwoo’s face—but there was no trace of that fiery anger. Mingyu was worried.

“You want to throw punches?” Seungcheol told him, his voice low and menacing like someone who was ready to subdue any class of trouble. “Wanna settle this like fucking kids, then do it outside. Not in my bar.”

Wonwoo used the back of his hand to wipe the blood trickling down and mixing with his saliva. His jaw clenched, his front teeth hurting slightly. He didn’t speak. The smell of alcohol from the smashed bottle filled his senses, anchoring him to reality.

Mingyu had punched him. And he’d fully deserved it. In fact, part of him wanted it to hurt more.

Seungcheol looked between them. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you two?” he reproached, his voice stern like a disappointed parent. “You. Outside. Now,” he ordered, pointing his finger at Mingyu.

Mingyu’s shoulders went slack, but he didn’t resist. Turning around, Wonwoo caught a glimpse of Mingyu’s face before he walked out, letting the door close softly behind him, and all rage simmered down.

Seungcheol turned, kicking a large piece of broken glass. Wonwoo motioned to get the broom, but Seungcheol raised a palm to him. “Leave it,” he said, studying Wonwoo’s face. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Wonwoo felt ashamed. Of himself, of what he’d brought to Seungcheol’s bar.

“Why did you do that?” Seungcheol asked, his tone laced with curiosity but something else, a quiet judgement.

Wonwoo dared to raise his gaze to the man who had been his business partner for years now. Despite of years of knowing each other, Wonwoo had never let something so personal show. He always kept everything concealed. So he wasn’t surprised to see the concern and real disappointment behind Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo finally replied.

But that was a lie. Weeks of being with you had taught him that there’s no such thing as a straight answer. Not when it came to love and all the complications that his heart has put him through.

He betrayed Mingyu, yes. But he never intended to. Just as he never intended to fall in love with you.

“Grab a plastic bag and ice before that lip swells more,” Seungcheol instructed, the muscles of his face had relaxed.

“Sure,” Wonwoo muttered, lowering his gaze again.

Seungcheol sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re dismissed for today.”

Wonwoo’s heart dropped, raising his head to meet Seungcheol’s eye. “I can still work—”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “I need you to take the day off,” he stated, his tone stern, but there was worry in his eyes. “For your sake. You look like hell, not only that, but you’d have to be crazy if you didn’t feel like hell. And I need you two to stay away from each other for a day, okay?”

Wonwoo almost tried to persuade him to tell Seungcheol to let him work tonight instead of Mingyu. He needed this job, not for the money, or to be somewhere other than at home. He just needed to fill his head with noise, drown the voice in his head telling him he’d made a terrible mistake.

But he nodded curtly. “Okay, boss,” he muttered.

And that might’ve been the first time he’d taken a break from The Spot.

The air was cold outside. The light rain pattered softly on the windshields of the two cars parked behind the bar.

Mingyu leaned back against the wall, looking skyward. It was painted a pale grey, spotted with slightly darker clouds. He blinked as tiny droplets of water landed on his forehead and cheeks.

His hand was trembling.

Between all the things happening inside his head, Mingyu was concerned with one in particular—why?

The door opened, and the loud metallic creaking made his ears ring a little.

Mingyu didn’t look at Wonwoo. Shame heated from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, making them red. He knew he’d made a terrible mistake. It was his first time throwing a punch with the full intention to start a fight. And he regretted it immediately.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Mingyu muttered, closing his eyes before swallowing the knot in his throat.

Wonwoo didn’t answer.

Mingyu lowered his face after a moment of silence. His eyes brimmed with shameful tears when he saw Wonwoo pressing a pack of ice to his mouth.

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo said, lifting the pack to show him a clean cut to his lip, already swollen and flaring red. “It’s nothing.”

Mingyu dropped his gaze to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—I didn’t—what you said—” he cut himself off, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry too,” Wonwoo finally said, his voice breaking a little.

Mingyu nodded slowly. “I trusted you.”

Wonwoo flinched, the words hitting worse than any punch could. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

And that did it.

The shame, the guilt. Everything that Mingyu had been bottling up from the moment he saw your photos on Wonwoo’s computer came crashing down on him like a thousand bricks.

Why, why, why?

Mingyu sniffled quietly, his gaze lowered but Wonwoo could get a glimpse of the glistening below his eyes, the lonely tears that trickled down his cheeks. “I saw the photos on your computer.”

Wonwoo’s heart stammered. Of all of the possible ways Mingyu could’ve put the pieces together, this was one of the worst. Because when he took those photos, they didn’t mean anything to him yet. You were just a thought in Wonwoo’s mind. A friend. Someone he wanted to get to know more because you were hurting.

Wonwoo lowered the ice pack to his side, the shift and the chill air made the cut sting. But he didn’t pay attention to it. “She asked me for space.”

Mingyu blinked, raising his face. “What?”

“She said she needed time for herself,” he said. “She didn’t want this to happen, you know?”

Mingyu exhaled. The statement had hurt him, like something had rung with familiarity. “She told me the same thing. That she needed to heal,” he said, his tone weak. “So you two are not…”

Wonwoo shook his head gently. “No. I’m not seeing her anymore.”

Mingyu didn’t respond, the words had shaken him. He was breathing hard again, and Wonwoo could guess that it was just as painful to Mingyu as it was to him.

“I think she’s trying to find herself again outside of all of this mess—me, you, her ex. Everything.”

Mingyu frowned. “Her ex?” he asked, his gaze softening in acknowledgement. “Did he come back?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “He’s getting married. Told her it should’ve been her instead of his actual partner.”

Mingyu blinked, realization hitting him as he sighed heavily. “Fuck,” he ran a hand down his face. He laughed bitterly, his eyes still wet with tears. “And there I was, thinking that if I told her I loved her, I would fix everything.”

Wonwoo didn’t say a thing.

Mingyu tilted his head back again, looking at the sky for a long second. His breathing was even now, but the hurt in his face was still there, hardening his features. He turned slightly, looking now at Wonwoo.

“Do you love her?” Mingyu asked.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth parting. But he gave a single nod. “Yes. I do.”

Mingyu blinked away slowly, swallowing hard again. “What now?”

Wonwoo was expecting this question. In the midst of everything, this was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that remained. He and Mingyu.

“I don’t know. She’s not with you. She’s not with me. I think that we should let her breathe. In the meantime, we should try and figure out how to clean up this mess.”

Mingyu stood there, looking at the sky as silence stretched on.

This wasn’t really about you anymore. It was about trying to figure out who both Mingyu and Wonwoo were after this irreversible step.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” Wonwoo asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Mingyu replied, his tone thickening. “You should’ve told me before.”

“I was going to tell you. I was looking for the right time to do it.”

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” Mingyu said, his chest deflating with a sigh. “Help me understand why you did it.”

Wonwoo looked away for the first time. Going back to the memory was even more painful than he thought. “I thought you had used her to forget Gigi,” he confessed.

“What?!” Mingyu exclaimed, his tone rising. “You think I’d do that?”

Wonwoo blinked, getting a glimpse of Mingyu’s hurt expression. “Even then I thought it was strange you’d do that. But you need to understand—you changed, Mingyu. After Gigi, you shut me out and didn’t talk to me… I thought that all of this was the aftermath of your breakup with her.”

Mingyu gaped in shock and utter disappointment. “I told you how I felt about her. Many times.”

Wonwoo tilted his head to one side, his brows knitting softly. “But you also told me how you weren’t all in, remember? You told me that you couldn’t stomach the thought of commitment, but then you would go back to her,” he said.

“I still don’t understand why you would do this,” Mingyu pointed out.

Wonwoo stilled. “I never meant to get close to her, believe me. We became friends, we got closer… and things got blurry after that.”

Mingyu exhaled, his face twisting in pain. “So all this time I’ve been wallowing like an idiot, you were—”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo called his tone stern and low. “You slept with her and the next day you dumped her. I’m not saying you should’ve done things differently, but you weren’t being honest with yourself, and that complicated things when you finally decided to let her go.”

Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut. He remembered it well—the night you told him about your ex, about how badly you were hurt. And he told you multiple times he wouldn’t leave you. He remembered how scared he was at the thought of breaking your heart, of being the same person Gigi was to him.

And he did it anyway.

“I fucked up,” Mingyu said bitterly, sniffling quietly.

“But she still loves you.”

Mingyu raised his teary eyes, blinking slowly. “S-she told me something similar,” he said.

Wonwoo nodded. “She never intended to hurt you—while she was with me,” he lowered his gaze. “But she was convinced that you didn’t want her anymore.”

“And you let her believe that,” Mingyu replied pointedly.

“Mingyu, you didn’t know what you wanted,” Wonwoo said, trying to put his best friend into his perspective. But no matter how hard he tried to flip things into his view, he knew he also did wrong. “But yeah, I also wanted her. It didn’t matter to me that she was using me.”

“That’s fucked up,” Mingyu exhaled, his gut twisting in resentment. “Did you seriously think I would not be mad at you for that?”

“I never believed you’d sit right with it,” he countered. “But I also… I also never thought it would go that far and when it did, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Mingyu mumbled, looking skyward again.

A moment went on in silence. Mingyu stared at the clouds, feeling like a complete idiot. He let you go and in your pain you sought comfort with his best friend. There was no room in his head to explain why you would do this. Was it revenge on him for leaving you so abruptly?

You said you loved him. The day he saw you for the last time. He remembered the brittle look on your face, the tears that formed in your eyes when you told him you had changed.

No, you wouldn’t do this as a form of revenge. Mingyu has known you since you and he were teenagers. Sure, you were never this close back then, but he knew your true nature. Kind, honest, and so loving. And the last time he saw you, he felt that part of you just wasn’t there anymore. Even when you confessed that you loved him too, there was something fractured.

“I broke her,” Mingyu said, the words slipping out of him in a quiet sigh.

You had opened up to him, shown you the vulnerable side of you and he left you afterwards.

“You did what was right for you,” Wonwoo said. “And she… she just needs to do what is right for her now.”

Mingyu nodded, but his gaze had fell out of focus. “Yeah…” he trailed off. “I’ll leave her be.”

One truth was that when his fist collided with Wonwoo’s face, his rage dissipated. It didn’t mean that he’d let go of the resentment he felt, but he was less angry about it. He still needed to understand why everything had happened the way it did, but for that, he needed your side of the story.

“Not everything’s forgiven,” Mingyu said, his voice barely a croak. “But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I don’t fully comprehend why you did that the way you did. You could’ve told me before, even if you knew I was going to be mad.”

Wonwoo listened, looking at Mingyu intently. “You’re right. You deserved to know sooner. And I’m sorry for hurting you. That wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Is there anything else I need to know?” Mingyu asked.

“I’ve told you everything,” Wonwoo confirmed, giving him a tight nod.

Mingyu blinked slowly, letting out a labored sigh. “I need some time to think about this whole mess,” he said.

“I’ll give you time,” Wonwoo replied almost immediately. “And if you need to talk, I’ll be ready.”

Before the moment stretched too long, Mingyu turned to the door, opening it so Wonwoo could come back inside with him.

“You go,” Wonwoo muttered, his lip having swollen slightly.

Mingyu paused, still holding the door handle.

“I’ve been dismissed for today,” Wonwoo explained shortly. And after seeing Mingyu’s face contort slightly in worry, he added: “Seungcheol thought it’s better for us to stay apart for the rest of the day.”

Mingyu huffed dryly, sending a look upwards. “It’s not like I’m going to hit you again,” he joked. “See you back home,” he said humourlessly now, disappearing after the door and shutting it behind him.

Wonwoo’s mouth pressed into a tight line despite the cut still pulsing on his lip. All alone, he could face the silence bravely, with a steady heart. The silence told him everything he needed to know—he’d done a terrible mistake.

All his life he had made decisions carefully. If he had to think three or five times about something, he did it. But when he met you, he felt he had never been in control. He got to know you and never realized how you broke down all his walls.

The night he kissed you for the first time was the most impulsive he’s ever been in his life. And he made that decision only because his heart truly desired it. But now he knew the consequences of his actions. He acted out of love and affection and in the process hurt his best friend and lost you.

Everything that remained was a painful lesson—Wonwoo would never act on his heart again.

Mingyu ran a hand down his face.

The soft piano music coming from the speakers of the café was almost unsettling him. It was too quiet, too calm, while his head was banging and thrashing with horrible thoughts.

He wasn’t ready for this.

It had been an impulsive decision.

If this went badly, at least he could blame it on acting without considering the possible consequences.

He wasn’t ready for this, yes. But he also felt in his heart like he needed it.

Coming to this café wasn’t his idea. It was his first time there, so he limited himself to buying a cold brew americano. That way, he could have an excuse to sit down at one of the tiny tables that were cramped with several others.

He bounced his knee obsessively, frantically as he eyed the time displayed on his lockscreen.

This time, there was no need to prepare a stupid speech. He knew what he wanted to say because those were things he hadn’t been able to let go of. Now that he saw things from a different perspective, he wished he had done this long before he let you go.

But it was too late to turn back time.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw the chair opposite to his move.

Gigi sat down, fixing her hair nervously.

The first thing Mingyu noticed was that she avoided eye contact. Her face was lowered, but left to Mingyu’s expert eye. She looked exactly how he remembered, prim, composed. Her caramel-brown hair was loose in fluffy waves that splayed over her shoulders. Her milky white skin had an unnatural glow to it, the blush near her cheekbones pink and glittery. There was a beauty mark on her cheek, the same one Mingyu used to kiss lovingly.

His stomach tightened.

Gigi raised her face, smiling at him softly, but the joy never reached her brown eyes. “Hi, Mingyu,” she cooed like this encounter was meant to be sweet.

He nodded once, trying to remain polite. But the truth was, he was beginning to regret this. “Gigi.”

“You look good,” she said, eyeing him from the waist up. “Stronger.”

He didn’t reply, feeling like he couldn’t return any kind of compliment.

And his silence unsettled her. She neatly folded her hands on the table, pursing her lips. “I’m so glad you reached out. I’ve been meaning to talk for a while now.”

“I know you have,” Mingyu replied dryly, his voice gruff. “But I didn’t come here to talk. I just wanted to say something.”

She gaped for a second. “O-okay.”

A pause followed, which Mingyu used to arrange his words as best as he possibly could. But there was no better way to say this. “You broke something in me.”

She blinked, the muscles of her face contracting slightly.

But he didn’t let her speak. “After you cheated, I couldn’t look at myself the same. I kept thinking that it was just me. That I was paranoid. That if I had done something else you wouldn’t have cheated.”

She stiffened completely on her seat, hiding her face as she inclined her head forward. “It wasn’t about you,” she said softly.

Mingyu couldn’t believe her, but he breathed in, letting her say her piece.

“I was a mess back then,” she said quietly. “I was upset with myself, and I never believed I deserved you, so I guess I just acted that out by doing what I did to you.”

Mingyu blinked slowly, feeling more surprised than hurt at hearing Gigi’s words. He hated for a fraction of a second that Gigi wasn’t saying explicitly what she did to him. But he couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I know that now,” he said. “But back then, I didn’t. And someone tried to love me after you, and I hurt her because I didn’t trust love anymore. I kept thinking that something had to go wrong. And maybe that’s on me. But I never told you that.”

She raised her face again, her eyes widened and glazed over. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked, her tone rising in disbelief.

“No,” he said, not caring about the falsity in her voice. “Not mad. Just done.”

Gigi’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard. “Is this about her?” she blurted, losing composure. “About that girl you’re seeing?”

Mingyu remained expressionless, but it took everything he got to do so. He didn’t want to question how Gigi knew about you, or comment about the way she referred to you. But he took another deep breath, letting his heart bleed at the memory of you.

“It is,” he conceded stiffly. “I found someone who made me feel good after what happened with you,” now it was his turn to lower his face, but just briefly. “I pushed her away because I didn’t trust myself.”

Her lips pursed again, and there was a certain way she blinked. A fleeting roll of her eyes. “Do you want me to apologize?”

He shook his head, hearing the dismissal in her tone.

But she did it anyway. “I didn’t mean to ruin you.”

Mingyu tried to ignore it, the venom in her words but still masked in a sweet way. “You didn’t ruin me,” he said, not hiding his annoyance. “But you cheated on me and made me feel crazy for not trying to salvage our relationship. You left with him, and I stayed fucked.”

“And I hated myself after. I still do,” she said, her voice dropping.

Mingyu softened, his heart faltering. But he commanded himself to stand his ground. “Then this isn’t just for me. Maybe you needed to hear it too.”

She made no comment, she remained crestfallen and playing with the golden rings around her fingers.

Mingyu remained studying her, wondering why he felt absolutely nothing. Not even pity. Somewhere in his mind, he compared his story with Gigi to his story with you. He realized that Gigi’s betrayal was something she had built for weeks, she lied and hid while sharing his bed. Meanwhile, he felt like he was in no position to judge you. He hurt you first, played with your time and then walked away when you needed him the most.

His heart hurt when the memory of you sitting on the bleachers flashed behind his eyelids. The way you hugged yourself tightly as you crumbled, sobbing as he walked away.

If you had found love with Wonwoo, then Mingyu felt like he couldn’t really blame you.

“I still think about us,” she admitted with a sad tone. “About what he had. What we could’ve—”

Mingyu cut her off. “What we had was dishonest. I loved you. And you lied to me,” he said.

She blinked fast. “Do you love her?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Gigi took in a breath as though she’d been slapped. But she said nothing, she gulped hard, swallowing her words.

“I’m not here to talk about second chances,” Mingyu added, sighing through his nose. “I’m here because I don’t want you to look for me anymore. And I just want to have closure on what happened between us.”

Mingyu noticed her gaze disconnecting somewhere in the middle of what he was saying. She didn’t get what she wanted. And it was then that he realized that he wouldn’t either.

She lowered her face, sniffling quietly but no tears came. “I’m sorry, Mingyu.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Me too.”

And when he stood up, she didn’t stop him.

As he approached the door, he didn’t cast a look over his shoulder to see her one more time. All the love and resentment he had for her had been buried the moment he stepped outside of the café. 

He pulled in a big breath, feeling freer despite still having a weight in his chest.

But for the first time in months, he felt that he’d made the right decision.

☾ author's note ii: hey, everyone

sorry for being absent for the past few days. life has been a bit hard for me and i was in no condition to write. i wanted to, but couldn't. between job hunting, saving money to move and so on, i had to take a break for my sake.

but what made things better for me were you guys, who kept sending me loving messages and asking about me, which kept me grounded. thank you all for looking out for me, y'all make me feel special 🥹🩵

this chapter was... difficult to write in some parts. it felt like i was speaking to myself. and honestly, this entire fic is so deeply personal that it took me so long to update it. i posted the first chapter on september 2024... and then left it to collect dust until april 2025.

i really need to stop self-inserting in my fics. kdfjgh but i know that i won't. it's just impossible to me.

anyway, if you liked this chapter, feel free to tell me in the comments? i try to reply to all of your feedback, and if i don't reply, trust me i'm always smiling when i see your comments and your reblogs. you guys don't know how happy you make me with your comments, asks and reblogs!

that's it from me for now, i love you all

toodles!

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☆ READ PART IX! ☆

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE ♡

☾ author's note: helloooooo!! we're back with another chapter and oh my god!! last chapter you guys were amazing with the feedback. y'all really know how to make a girl feel special 🥺 anyways, enjoy this chapter!! love yous

☾ author's note pt2: the sex scene for this chapter is looooooooooooong. like wonu's c—[GUNSHOTS]

no but fr the sex scene is like 5k words 🧍🏻‍♀️ enjoy! ksksks

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

kiss and tell

Jeon Wonwoo woke up with a start.

He opened his eyes to an apartment that for one second he didn’t recognize. Everything looked different now that the sunlight was pouring from the windows.

He rolled over to reach out for his glasses on your nightstand, letting out a small sigh as the first movements of the morning got him feeling a little bit more awake.

A small jolt of his heart gave him the impulse to sit up. You were nowhere to be seen. But as he focused his senses, he heard the faint noise coming from the shower.

Wonwoo sighed, leaning back on the headboard of your bed. Then, everything came crashing down on him—the memories from last night, what he did. What you and he did together.

If last night had been a random booty call, then now it would be a perfect opportunity for him to grab his shit and walk out of your apartment.

But no, last night was different. No matter how he’d slice it, it was something he couldn’t walk away from. And he didn’t want to.

He looked at the ceiling, thinking of how to approach this situation as though he were organizing the pieces of a very complex puzzle. First, he’d have to talk to you, and then, he’d have to tell Mingyu what happened.

His heart deflated upon that last thought.

Wonwoo would’ve never imagined he’d be in this situation. Sure, he made the very conscious decision to kiss you, and then sleep with you. But everything that happened before that was something he never planned for.

And last night… he got to know how far his impulses could go if he lets his guard down. If he allows to act on his feelings.

He blinked slowly, releasing a long sigh through his nose.

The noise coming from the bathroom ceased. Wonwoo rose from your bed and slowly started gathering his clothes, putting them on one by one almost robotically. He stood before your bed, fully dressed now, thinking.

The bathroom door clicked softly, and then the steam and the smell of your shampoo quickly filled the air of your studio apartment.

The smell made his guts twist. Sweet, citrusy, and addictive. It instantly flashed a memory in his mind of him sinking his nose in your hair while he was buried deep inside your body.

Fuck. This isn’t good, he thought.

Some seconds later, you emerged from the bathroom wrapped up in a bathrobe, your humid hair resting on your shoulder as you dried the ends with a towel.

Wonwoo watched your expression intently, looking for any signs of regret. He took a deep breath, mustering some courage in case you decided to ask him to leave.

But you smiled softly at him. Your eyes were devoid of any emotion, making him think that you probably didn’t rest well.

“Hi,” you sighed, the corners of your eyes lifting slightly.

“Morning,” he replied, then realized how gruff his voice sounded and cleared it awkwardly before adding, “Did you sleep well?”

You were padding slowly towards him until you stood a few steps away. Your heart was racing, and your entire body was rigid with the fear of the unexpected. “I uh, yeah. I slept alright,” you replied, your tone sounding off. “You?”

Wonwoo nodded dryly.

You exchanged a long look. One that was guarded by both the inability to start having the talk and the urge to just keep going. To push it down.

You motioned to the kitchen. “Do-do you—” you stammered, pausing to take a breath. “Do you want some coffee?”

Wonwoo picked up every detail that you tried to hide—how your fingers twisted and twirled your wet hair, but they still trembled in doing so, or the nervous way you swallowed, trying to slow down your breathing.

He knew what you were feeling—and it wasn’t hard to guess because he was also feeling it too. The nervous fluttering inside, one that spread all over your body and tingled beneath your skin.

“Sure,” he muttered, giving you a tiny nod.

You turned to the kitchen before you let the moment linger for too long. You felt like the more you stood around, the more he got to notice just how nervous you actually were.

You vaguely remembered how it was when Mingyu stayed the night for the first time. How it had felt too natural to have him in your space.

You chewed on your lower lip as you poured water into the coffee machine and turned the button on. Discarding those memories, concluding that it would probably feel natural for Wonwoo to be there if he weren’t Mingyu’s best friend.

You liked Wonwoo. And given the turn of events of last night, you wanted him more than you had originally imagined.

But it still felt wrong.

The air between you had permanently changed. It made your chest ache, the feeling so tight you couldn’t get rid of it as you sighed deeply.

Wonwoo watched you from where he stood at the foot of the kitchen. He wanted to get closer to you, to drive your gaze towards his. But your focus was zeroed on the coffee dripping slowly into the pot, trying to hide your face from his scrutiny.

But he had to break the silence. With a rapid heartbeat, he asked: “Are we going to talk about it?”

His voice was gruff, heavy with emotion. The sound of his nervousness made your senses awake, as though your own nervousness had been trying to bury you by force.

You turned around, finding him leaning against the kitchen counter. God, he was glorious, in all his dishevelled form. His hair was messy from the night before, and despite being well-rested, he looked slightly tired. Sleepy.

You didn’t pretend not to know what he meant. There was no going around the subject. You met his eyes, finding the seriousness there that made your stomach flip.

“Yeah. I think we should,” you replied, your tone low. “I’m sorry. About last night.”

Wonwoo’s gaze snapped to yours, reading your face swiftly. Like your words had hit him somewhere tender. “Don’t,” he mumbled. “Don’t apologize.”

Part of you wondered why you always resorted to apologizing—or why you felt like Wonwoo needed you to say sorry. You didn’t want to give him the feeling that you regretted what happened. Because you didn’t.

“Listen. Last night wasn’t planned,” he said gently. “And I don’t expect you to know what to do with it. I don’t even know what to do with it.”

You exhaled, feeling that ache return to your chest. “It wasn’t just what happened last night. It’s everything leading up to it,” you said, wishing you could muster some strength to hold his gaze. But eventually you dropped it to the floor. “I’m still figuring out the things that hurt me.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I know,” he said softly. “And I won’t push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You looked up, finding his gaze. “I don’t know if I’m ready… for you,” you whispered.

Wonwoo took a step towards you, but he didn’t reach out to touch you. Not yet. “You don’t have to be,” he replied in kind.

Your heart twisted, as though it knew you were making a mistake and just kept digging your grave. “But last night…”

“I know,” he nodded softly. His eyes outlined the features of your face, taking in every detail. “I don’t regret it.”

The way that he was looking at you made your heart ease. There was no pressure, no desperation for you to give in. Only patience.

“What if I mess it up?” you whispered.

Wonwoo shrugged lightly. “Then we mess it up,” he replied, smiling faintly. “But at least we can say that we tried.”

You tried to pay attention to what your heart felt, beating fast, painfully loud. “I don’t want to hurt you, Wonwoo,” you whispered. You bit your lower lip, trying to stop it from quivering.

“Then don’t,” he said gently. “Pull the breaks when you need it,” he smiled, shrugging. “But don’t hold yourself back either.”

Silence fell again, and then you knew why your heart was so stressed. “What about Mingyu?”

His lips parted slightly. There was an answer ready because he didn’t skip a second. “Don’t worry about him,” he said. “Let me worry about him for now.”

You dropped your gaze again, eyes brimming with tears. You missed Mingyu. That was a fact that was still real as everything you felt last night. All the despair, the raw emotion. You were angry at him for breaking your heart, but at the same time, you didn’t know how he’d take this.

But he used you. He broke you and walked away, a dark part of you raged.  

“Hey,” Wonwoo whispered, his hand finally finding yours. His fingers slipped onto your palm, pressing it gently.

You raised your eyes, releasing your tears. You sniffled, the sound making you laugh embarrassedly.

Wonwoo showed you a smile, one that made the nose of his bridge wrinkle. He took another step towards you, his knee brushing against yours. “We don’t have to be anything yet. We can go as slow as you need,” he muttered softly, while his thumb brushed the back of your hand. “I’m not in a rush.”

The words rung with a strange familiarity. As they sank in your mind, they rhymed with a distant memory, one that you weren’t ready to revisit yet.

You turned your hand over slightly, finding his fingers to lace them with yours. The gesture was so tiny, yet so gentle that it had your heart melting.

You found his gaze again, giving him a cautious smile. The way his hair looked made your tummy twist, and you subconsciously reached out with your free hand to brush the messy strands of hair back into order.

“Do I look bad?” he asked softly, reading your face.

“Just like you fell out of bed,” you joked, letting out a short giggle.

Wonwoo smiled sheepishly. “Can I…” he motioned to the bathroom door.

“Of course,” you whispered, stepping back to let him go fix his form.

You turned to take out two cups from the cabinet. The coffee machine had stopped brewing, and it was now softly hissing when you took the jar and poured two cups of coffee, leaving out space for cream in case Wonwoo took his coffee with cream.

You don’t know anything about him, the thought invaded you. You don’t know how he takes his coffee. Or what he likes having for breakfast. The overwhelming need to know more about him came about you when you heard the door click softly.

Wonwoo came back, looking more like he did last night. His hair looked more put together and you realized that he had also cleaned his glasses.

“How do you take yours?” you asked, handing him his cup.

“Black is perfect,” he sighed softly, taking a sip. “Thanks,” he muttered with a pleased look.

You sipped slowly from your cup, watching him intently.

It wasn’t a requirement to know everything about a person to harbor feelings for them. You knew this. But why did you feel a responsibility to know more about him?

Wonwoo read your expression, finding the curiosity in it. There was something more, something that made your eyes look sweet, tender.

He lowered his cup to the counter reaching out to grab you by the waist. The feeling of his hand on top of your clothes awoke your entire body, creating a tingling sensation on your skin.

You lowered your cup too, straightening up as he came closer to you. “Come here,” he said, bringing you to a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body to his frame.

He was tall enough to rest his cheek on your head, using his arms around you to rock you gently.

Being in his arms soothed your heart instantly. You didn’t need to know everything about Wonwoo, but you knew why the urge was created. You liked him. You liked being around him. It felt like the pieces of your heart weren’t struggling to mend themselves back together. It felt easier to breathe.

You pressed the side of your face on his chest, sighing out the soreness in your chest. You wanted to cry—but it felt different from last night. It felt as though you had been trying to keep your emotions in a box, but have been fighting against the lid to keep it closed. And now, being safe in Wonwoo’s embrace, you were finally free to feel those emotions.

You sniffled softly against his chest, turning your face to snuggle against his warmth.

Wonwoo heard you. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Cry it out. I’m here for you.”

Hot tears started to spill from your eyes, making you squeeze them shut. The words, I’m sorry formed in your lips, but you were unable to bring them out.

But Wonwoo repeated, “It’s okay,” without knowing that you were about to apologize from crying. It was like he knew.

He didn’t know how you liked your coffee either. But somehow, he knew you.

You let out a sad laugh. “I’m a mess,” you said, your tone made weak by the tears that kept on coming.

Wonwoo pulled back, his hands finding your face, cupping your cheeks. He leaned his head to look into your eyes. “We’re a mess,” he corrected. “But I’m not running away. And I’m not going to push you into anything,” he held your gaze, his softening by the sight of your teary eyes. Then slowly, he uttered the next words: “I want you.”

You raised one hand, pressing your palm to the back of one of his hands and leaning your face against it. You closed your eyes, letting more tears go.

You wanted him too. Deep down, you knew it. But the fears and the heartache made it impossible for you to admit it aloud, even if you gave yourself to him the night before. It was obvious, and you wondered if Wonwoo’s ability to study you had already found that out.

Something told you that he already knew you wanted him too.

A warm feeling settled in your chest. “I’ll try not to freak out,” you whispered, opening your eyes to find him.

He pursed his lips cutely. “I’ll try not to give you reasons to.”

Then he bent over, lips pressing against your forehead. He kissed it slowly, then moved his face to yours.

You held your breath when the tip of his nose bumped onto yours. Then he hesitated, pausing so close to you that you felt the gentle caress of his breath.

You gave in.

Joining your lips with his felt too natural. The pull you felt towards him was so great that you forgot about the worries that clouded your mind. So you kissed him. You kissed him deeply, like you had nothing to fear.

A tiny gasp broke from your chest as you moved your lips with his seamlessly. His hands still cupped your face, only moving you to tilt your head back for him, angling you perfectly for more of his kisses.

He broke the kiss, only to move his lips to one of your cheeks. You let out a short giggle, feeling his lips on your other cheek, realizing that he was kissing your tears.

He pressed his forehead against yours, sighing out in something that felt to you like relief. You tasted the coffee on his lips, mixed with the saltiness from your tears when he pressed his lips against yours one more time.

Wonwoo felt something unexplainable for you. He saw the girl that had been hurt ten times over and still had love to give. He saw the softness in you, the loving nature in you that you were now trying to protect. And he wanted to protect it too.

“I have to go,” he whispered, but he didn’t back away.

“Okay,” you whispered back, afraid to let go and open your eyes.

“If you need me, I’ll be a call away,” he promised.

You nodded shortly, not trusting yourself to speak up.

Wonwoo stopped cupping your face, taking a step back. Reluctantly, he grabbed his jacket, and his phone, turning to the door. As he turned the handle, he looked back at you.

You took two steps to him, grabbing his face to press a goodbye kiss on his lips. He kissed you back instantly, sighing out a smile.

“Text me when you get home?” you mumbled meekly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, kissing you one more time before he stepped out of your apartment.

And as you went back to your silence, you didn’t feel the need to guard yourself against it. It wasn’t the kind of silence that made you sink into it. You were for once, staying afloat.

Mingyu leaned his forearms against the sink, staring into the empty tub of ice. The emptiness inside it, paired with the bustling noise from the kitchen pulled him into his thoughts, making him drift away and somewhere else.

He remembered the echoes of your laughs back in your apartment. The way your eyes brimmed up with years and your voice cracked when you confessed something close to you. And how he said he wouldn’t walk away from you.

He remembered the moment he left you back at the basketball court. The way you sat at the bleachers, crying in heartache.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, sighing into his palm.

“What’s up Mings? You okay?” Wonwoo asked, appearing beside him with a crate full of beers, which he settled on the floor gently.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. “Yeah,” he croaked, resuming to clear out the bar off the clean glasses, putting them where they belonged.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t press. He then turned away, disappearing into the hall to get another crate of beers.

Mingyu gnawed on his bottom lip, losing himself to another memory, torturing himself. This memory was a sweet one. One where he made love to you, holding your hand, telling you to breathe with him. He remembered the look on your eyes, his heart stammering painfully now.

Wonwoo came back, kicking the door open. The look on Mingyu’s face must’ve been telling what he was feeling inside, because Wonwoo just sighed, exasperated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Mingyu finally broke, shaking his head swiftly. “It’s been over a month,” he said, raising his eyebrows a little.

Wonwoo panned to him. “Since?”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened. “Since I last saw her.”

Wonwoo’s gaze sharpened slightly, parting his mouth to say something.

But Mingyu continued, finally raising his gaze to meet Wonwoo. “Do you think she hates me?”

Wonwoo pressed his lips together in an awkward expression. “Why are you asking me?”

Mingyu let out a short laugh. “Right, what am I even saying?” he sighed, setting down the last piece of glassware on the rack.

Wonwoo kept quiet, bending down to put one of the crates on the counter and keeping an eye on Mingyu.

“I’ve been thinking about texting her, calling her,” Mingyu confessed, starting to get the beers out of the crate one by one. He pressed his lips into a tight line for a second before adding. “I almost did a dozen times.”

“Why haven’t you?” the question came out of Wonwoo with a flat tone.

Mingyu sighed. “Because I don’t know if I even deserve to,” he muttered. “I panicked, I really did. And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Wonwoo set the second crate down on the counter with more force than necessary. “Then why did you do it? Why did you leave?”

Mingyu turned his head, confused by the shift in tone.

“I mean, really,” Wonwoo continued, directing Mingyu a hard gaze. “You said you weren’t all in. You told me that you felt like you were going to mess it up. So what is it now?”

“Well, you said it—I messed up,” Mingyu said bitterly. “I was scared that I would end up hurting her because I’m not fully healed but, I realize now that I could’ve worked through it. I could’ve done more.”

“Done more?” Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean done more?”

Mingyu nodded slowly. “Maybe if I had made the effort to be with her, maybe I could’ve told her to give me a chance while I fix my shitty life—instead of breaking up with her,” he lowered his gaze, adding with a softer tone: “And hurting her.”

Wonwoo remained impassive, letting the silence stretch between him and Mingyu. Waiting.

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair. “Now I don’t even know if she’d talk to me. Or if she should.”

“Maybe it’s not about what you want anymore,” Wonwoo said, quieter this time, his tone coated with something Mingyu couldn’t place.

Mingyu stilled, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You broke up with her,” Wonwoo added. “And whatever reason you had, whatever reason you gave her for walking away, it better still hold up if you’re thinking about looking for her again.”

Mingyu didn’t reply, but he couldn’t hide the hurt showing on his face.

Wonwoo watched him for a second longer, letting the message sink. Then he turned, opening the fridge to start restocking it methodically. He didn’t offer Mingyu advice, nor nudge him toward texting you. And he wouldn’t.

Mingyu didn’t dwell on his best friend’s blunt reply. He picked up a glass, staring at the reflection in it.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

Wonwoo sighed softly, letting the remorse twist inside him. “I’m aware.”

Mingyu was used to Wonwoo’s expressionless manner. But this was different, guarded.

“What happened?” he pressed, not looking at him.

“Something came up,” Wonwoo said, realizing that it was the same thing he texted Mingyu the night before. He added, “A friend had some issues. Needed a hand with something, so I helped.”

“A friend?” Mingyu’s brow furrowed, now turning over his shoulder to look at Wonwoo.

But he remained impassive, putting one bottle after another inside the fridge. “Yeah.”

“You have other friends?” Mingyu joked, laughing lightly. But then his ears perked, his eyelids fluttering dumbly. “Oh,” he uttered, then another joyful giggle bubbled up. “Oh—is this…? Are you—are you seeing someone?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Mingyu said, dragging his words in a tone that Wonwoo found jarring.

“A gentleman doesn’t share his secrets,” he said, letting himself smile a little.

“A gentleman? You?” Mingyu snickered, letting out a high-pitched wail that resonated across the empty bar. “So that means it is a woman you went off to see! Ah, you have to tell me everything.”

Wonwoo peeked from the door of the fridge, shaking his head. “I won’t tell you anything. Not until you finished setting up.”

Mingyu groaned loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty bar. “You’re all work no fun, hyung.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wonwoo muttered dismissively.

Wonwoo closed the door of the fridge, walking away to get another crate while Mingyu remained behind the bar. He stared at the shelves of liquor, thinking that he’d have to get up there soon and clean them.

Something felt off about Wonwoo. To Mingyu, there was something more than a casual display of seriousness. Wonwoo was usually livelier than his observant manner. Something was off, his gut instinct said. Not that Wonwoo was coming off as cold, nor aggressive. Just careful, and quiet.

Mingyu picked up a rag, wiping down the counter with slow, methodical motions. His thoughts kept circling back to you, just like always. How your voice used to soften when he called you in the middle of the night. How you would wait for him to clock off so you could walk home together, even if it was way past midnight.

He didn’t deserve to miss that. But he did.

Mingyu exhaled softly, checking his phone again. Mechanically, he opened your chat, his fingertip tapping on your profile photo. His gut twisted.

You had changed your profile photo.

It now displayed a very different photo. From the photo where you were standing with a cute smile, a colorful mural behind you, now you showed one with a bleak background of the river. The features of your face looked soft still, but there was a coldness in your eyes.

Your smile was gone. And now all Mingyu saw was the raw, cold emotion in your eyes.

You were beautiful, you always were.

But Mingyu couldn’t help but feel that the image where you were smiling was stolen from him. For days and nights, all he had was your pretty smile to look at.  

Now that was over too.

Wonwoo returned to the bar, slipping behind the counter and putting down the crate of beers. He pulled open a drawer, busying himself with receipts and notes. Wonwoo darted a glance back at Mingyu from the corner of his eye.

“So you think it’s a good idea that I leave her alone?” Mingyu asked anxiously.

Wonwoo didn’t look up. “I think that’s not my call.”

“But if it was?” Mingyu chewed on his bottom lip.

That made Wonwoo pause. He put the receipts back on the drawer and turned to meet Mingyu’s gaze. “I think that if you’re going to reach out, be sure that it’s not because you’re hurting—” he said, then cut himself off, shaking his head like he was dismissing a painful remark. “I think that with all you’ve done already, she deserves a real apology.”

“I am going to apologize,” Mingyu said, taken aback. His shoulders slacked. “Hyung, you don’t understand—” he swallowed hard, composing himself. “I want her back.”

Wonwoo’s lips parted, his eyes widening slightly.

But Mingyu didn’t see the change in his best friend’s expression. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t want to hurt her ever again,” he mumbled, looking down at the lacquered counter.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to one side. “Then don’t.”

It sounded simple.

But that was the thing. Mingyu was hurting. But he wanted you and missed you for you—not just because of the comfort you gave. He missed the way he felt when he was around you, simply existing. Mingyu missed the way you looked at him like he was worth sticking around for.

Even if he couldn’t see that in himself back then.

Sometimes, he thought of his ex—Gigi. Of how even months after breaking up, she still tried to contact him. His guts twisted one more time. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve already healed in all this time he hasn’t contacted you. Maybe he’s just messing things up more.

And that wasn’t fair for you.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Mingyu sighed, reconsidering again. “What am I even doing?” he muttered, more to himself than to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo sighed heavily. “Look, do what you have to do,” he said, his tone hardening slightly with annoyance. “But please, can you get to work? I’m drowning here and we only have twenty minutes till we open up.”  

Mingyu straightened, laughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head to keep you away from his thoughts.

For now.

“You didn’t have to fuck him though,” Mona said, looking at you with a concerned look on her face.

You laughed out loud, letting the red wine fuel your whole body. Your cheeks were flushed with the effects of your third glass of wine.

“I mean—” Mona started, but got caught off. She laughed, finally infected with the sound of your giggles. “—what is it with you and toxic guys? Do you have a magnet for them? Where do I get one?”

You continued laughing, head tilted back. It had been a while since you’ve had a night like this.

You were sitting in a half-empty bar, tucked between two other very loud bars. The place was cozy—totally the opposite to what The Spot was. This was bright, colorful, full of earthy tones and fairy lights that coiled around the warm lights overhead.

Mona watched your smile, and you swore you saw a tint of warmth there. “I’m glad you’re better,” she said, then blinked a couple of times. “Well, not better-better, but like—” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m glad you’re not with that asshole anymore. He was truly sucking the life out of you.”

You sighed “I’m trying,” you said softly. “There are some bad days, and some good ones.”

“And today?” she asked, giving you an exaggerated inquisitive look.

You took a sip of wine, feeling pensive. “Today I’m good. Not perfect. But okay.”

Mona reached across the small table to squeeze your hand. “I’m really proud of you.”

You talked about everything and nothing for another hour. About work. Her new co-worker she thought was cute. About the graphic design course you were taking. About the new guy at the gym she was pretending not to notice. Everything and nothing.

And when it was time to step out of the bar, the air had cooled, but your laughter was still warm in your chest. The taste of wine lingering on your tongue.

“God,” Mona exhaled, fixing her jacket. “I’ve missed this.”

You smiled at her. “I’m sorry about dodging your calls.”

She clicked her tongue, using a hand to push your shoulder. “The next time I’ll just come get you out of your apartment. Bust you out of any prison you’ve made for yourself if that’s what’s needed.”

You snickered at the exaggerated roll of her eyes she gave you. “Okay, mom.”

She continued. “I should probably start charging you a therapist fee.” 

“Fair,” you said, the smile not wiping off your face.

“No but seriously. You look better. A little tired, but better.”

“I’ve been okay,” you reassured her for the tenth time. You shrugged. “Some days I wake up feeling okay. Other days it’s like I’m drowning.”

Mona nodded quietly. “Yeah. That’s grief for you. And yes, you’re allowed to grieve what you had with Jay—it wasn’t just a simple relationship. You guys were together for ages.”

You pressed your lips into a tight line. “It’s not just him, you know?” you murmured. “It’s everything I thought I was done with. Jay, the breakup, moving to a different part of the city. And then with Mingyu… it’s like he brought it all back.”

Mona bumped her shoulder against yours. “And do you feel safer with the new guy?” she paused. “With Wonwoo?”

You blinked and dropped your gaze to the ground.

It had been three nights since you slept with Jeon Wonwoo. And so far, you had only exchanged a few texts—nothing too personal, nor too serious. But you felt at ease whenever he texted goodnight, or whenever he told you he was doing okay.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, the knot in your throat tightening more. “I’m afraid to let myself care again. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“And if you do, you’ll fix it,” she shrugged, crossing her arms as she walked beside you. “You always do.”

Eventually, you both stopped when you knew your paths diverted into different routes. “Okay,” Mona sighed. “Are you taking the bus?”

“I could use the walk,” you said, tightening your fist around the strap of your bag.

The streets were damp, but the night sky gave no evident warning that it would start to rain again soon.

Mona nodded. “I’ll see you then,” she said, turning around and motioning a hand goodbye. “You better be with the same guy by the next time I see you!”

You laughed out loud, but couldn’t think of anything to reply to her.

You turned around, deciding to take the long way home.

Something about walking helped you think. You were still warm from the red wine and the laughter shared with your best friend. But walking through the park—seeing young couples walking hand in hand, groups of girls laughing gave you perspective.

The cold air stung your cheeks, making your eyes water. You hugged yourself tightly, closing your denim jacket around you.

You were passing by the park when you heard your name, loud and clear. At first, you thought it wasn’t meant for you, so you kept walking. But how many people could have your name in this city?

Then again, this time louder.

You turned around, following the sound of the voice.

Your stomach immediately dropped. It was Jay.

He looked the same. Despite the buzz cut hair he sported and the change in fashion style, he was still your Jay. The same big dark eyes, the same smile that made his eyes turn into half-moons. He was dressed too well for someone who didn’t like to go out at night.

You stopped walking, feeling glad that you were already hugging your body because you felt like fainting.

Jay slowed to a stop in front of you, catching his breath with a crooked smile. “Wow,” he said, breathlessly. “It’s really you.”

You nodded, managing a polite smile. “Hi.”

There was a pause, one where you just stood in front of him while he practically gawked at you.

“I’ve been meaning to reach out,” he said, scratching a fake itch on his nape. “But you know, life,” he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Right,” you replied, nodding stiffly.

He blinked, like he suddenly remembered something. “I’m getting married,” he blurted.

Your smile didn’t falter—and you were thankful for Mona again, and her wonderful way of predicting things. “I heard,” you said. “Congrats.”

He nodded, his gaze flitting across your face like he was searching for something. Sadness? Regret? “Her name is Lana,” he added. “She’s—she’s different. But she’s great.”

You nodded again, about to tell him that you didn’t want to know. “That’s good. I’m glad for you.”

But he didn’t skip a beat.

“It should’ve been you, though,” he said.

The words punched the air out of your lungs. You almost wanted to register if he’d said another thing and you mistook it for being tipsy.

“What?” you breathed, unable to muster a reaction.

Jay stepped closer, and you almost stepped back, but couldn't trust your body. “I mean, come on. We were great. You know we were. We just—we just weren’t ready.”

You stared at him, blinking and gaping at him like you’d misheard.

“Sometimes I wonder if we gave up too soon. Or if I did.”

Anger flared, quiet but sharp. It made you finally step back. “Listen to yourself—” you gasped. “You’re getting married, Jay.”

“I know,” he laughed nervously. “What a stupid thing to say, right?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were starting to see red. Your chest felt hollow, and you almost wanted to yell at him for not letting you have a moment of peace.

But then he reached for your arm. “I’m sorry,” he said, and you could see the honesty in his eyes. “I just… Seeing you again brought so many memories back.”

You pulled your arm back. “Don’t.”

He blinked, almost confused at your reaction. “What?”

“Don’t tell me it should’ve been me when you already chose someone else,” you said, your voice shaking. “You’re forgetting that it was you who wasn’t ready. Not me.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You turned and walked with a quick pace. Running away from Jay aimlessly. You almost forgot your way back home, but you had to get distance from him.

You made it three blocks away from the park when your chest finally caved in. You reached into your bag, pulling out your phone. And before you could think, you pressed the call button.

You weren’t considering that he might be busy at work. You weren’t thinking at all.

It should’ve been you. The words kept echoing. Each time was more painful than the last.

And each echo also fueled your anger more.

His phone only rang once.

“Hello?”

You closed your eyes. Your voice was barely there. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” his voice cut through.

The world spun around you, blurs of streetlights and passing strangers, when you opened your eyes again. You staggered towards the nearest bench, sitting down on it.

You bit your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut. “I saw him,” you blurted out.

“Who?” he asked, and then a second later he said: “Your ex?” Wonwoo asked quietly.

Mingyu sent him an inquisitive look, which Wonwoo dismissed by shaking his head.

Then it was the broken way you uttered the next words that made his whole world stop. “He told me it should’ve been me he’s marrying.”

“Shit,” he hissed, lowering his face so it wouldn’t raise more questions.

“I thought it was over, I really did,” you said, your voice shaking and cracking mid-sentence: “I was having such a good night. But then… god I just feel so stupid right now.”

“Don’t,” he replied, sounding firm and gentle at the same time. “You’re not.”

You remembered the look on Jay’s face, the way he practically ogled at you.

“Where are you right now?” Wonwoo asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You lifted your head, looking at your surroundings. You told him exactly where you were. But then it dawned on you—Wonwoo was working, and you had pretty much just called him on impulse.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed shakily. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

Wonwoo lowered his face more, hiding completely from Mingyu’s furtive glances. “I’m glad you called me,” he said. In the distance, he could hear a regular calling for him. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll call you later, alright?”

“I didn’t mean to pull you away from work,” you sniffled lightly. “I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo was three hours from closing his shift. He couldn’t get away even if he had the means to. He was in charge of the bar tonight. And the bar was bustling with the usual Ladies’ Night activity, there was no way he could just abort the ship.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll get off in three hours. Do you… do you want to meet?”

You sniffled again. “Yeah,” you said, your voice sounding tiny. “Please.”

“I’ll text you when I’m out. Just—” he cut himself off, trying to think of what to say. But he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. “—get home safe, okay?”

You couldn’t ignore the warmth and the gentleness lacing his tone. It made your heart swell. “I will.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I’ll text you as soon as I’m off.”

“Okay,” you replied, ending the call.

And like a remedy, your heart was a little less frantic.

Three hours.

That’s all you had to wait.

But as you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t find what to do. You couldn’t even find the tears to cry anymore.

Time passed and you didn’t find the strength to move.

It should’ve been you.

You didn’t know why the words stung, but in a way that it just filled you with an unknown rage. You didn’t care about Jay. What he did or didn’t do with his life wasn’t your problem anymore.

Dodged that bullet, you could hear Mona’s words in your head, like a distant echo guiding you through.

The lights were off, the only thing illuminating your studio apartment was the TV, which was playing music videos at low volume. You were ignoring it, incapable of paying attention to anything else.

Your mind was cluttered with heavy, and dark thoughts. They pulled you away and deeper into the jaws of the monster that was your inner voice at that moment. You felt bad, but not at what happened, but at the thing you were turning into.

You weren’t enough for one man.

Then you were the temporary fix of another.

And now, you were using another man to get by.

No, that isn’t what you were doing, the lighter voice inside you tried to reason.

But no matter how you saw it, you couldn’t get rid of the thing eating at your heart, taking full bites, and chewing on it, leaving you bare and vulnerable.

You felt dirty. Hollow.

You wondered when it would stop. You wondered if there would be a day when you felt like you weren’t scared of the silence and the dark of the night. You wondered if the empty space in your bed wouldn’t matter anymore.

Part of you wanted to rage, to feel angry at Jay for ruining such a good night. Maybe you deserved this, maybe you needed a reminder.

You closed your eyes, trying to come back to the surface, trying to distance yourself from that voice that was luring you into parts you thought you had escaped from.

The fuzzy caress from the effects the red wine gave you had long run off. The impulse to get up and search for the bottles you had forgotten in the kitchen cabinet came about your fingers, like an itch you wanted to scratch.

Eyes completely closed, you felt the gentle ebb and flow of the last minutes of your drunken dizziness leaving your body. You sighed.

You ached to feel something.

In the darkness, you saw him. You didn’t want to, not at first.

You stretched out your arms on your bed, relishing in the gentle caress of your covers against your skin. Turning your face against your pillow, you remembered his hands as he cupped your cheeks, kissing you softly, then deeply.

The night Wonwoo spent in your bed had left an echo in you. You didn’t sport the mark he had left on your neck anymore, but you remembered seeing it every day, wishing he had left more, and all over you.

Then you remembered the little sounds he made when he was inside you—the grunts and gasps he emitted through his soft lips. How he delivered each thrust hard and deep, like he wanted to leave a mark.

You bit your bottom lip, sensing something rousing deep inside you. It was too late to stop now, you were falling. You wondered if he had thought of you again after that night.

A tingling feeling rushed beneath your skin, travelling from your face to the apex between your thighs. In your mind, you were seeing him, feeling him. Feeling his mouth on you, licking your inner thighs, kissing, and giving you soft bites.

You exhaled the nervousness inside you, to no avail. You knew it was too late to stop the feeling from blooming at the pit of your tummy.

Your self-control slipped from your hands at the same time that you pulled your knees up, your hand sneaking beneath the band of your sweatpants.

The first caress of your fingertip against your folds made your whole blood surge. You were so wet that you had already pooled in your panties, making you want to feel embarrassed, but the feeling never came.

You dipped two fingers in your entrance, your mouth parting as you tried to remember the feeling of Wonwoo’s dick slipping inside you. You wondered if the dildo you never used would be up to match the length of his cock.

You opened your eyes, slightly startled by the idea.

You turned over your bed, opening the drawer of your nightstand.

There, beneath the faint glow of the TV screen, you saw the bag where you stored your toys—which you remembered were too embarrassed when you initially got them. You opened it, grabbing the dildo that you have perhaps only used just once. You chewed on your bottom lip, looking at it while debating whether to use it or not.

A part of you felt ridiculous—you were just feeling sorry about yourself and now… you’re going to do this?

You pushed the thoughts away when you pressed the button down, bringing it to life with a loud buzzing noise. You didn’t even bother taking your clothes off—just lowered your sweatpants and panties down enough for you to have the space to slide the toy between your pussy lips.

You were dripping wet, smeared all over as the tip of the dildo slid perfectly inside you. Your mouth dropped open, gasping as you pushed the entire thing inside you, feeling its incessant vibrations ripple inside you.

“God,” you sighed, dropping your head back onto your pillow.

You bit your lower lip again, grabbing the toy to pull it back out slowly. The toy wasn’t as big as Wonwoo, but your imagination was running wild now. You remembered how hard and deep he went when he fucked you, how the tip of his cock reached places you didn’t even know existed.

You ached your back, pushing the toy back inside you, searching for that spot in your walls that Wonwoo had found almost effortlessly.

Sometimes when you were alone and just using your fingers, you would get nothing out of the dildo. So you just resorted to teasing your clit and calling it a night.

But now, you let yourself feel it. You allowed your mind to throw memories from the nights when the pleasure was so much that it overwhelmed you. So you saw him, you saw Mingyu—how he used to fuck you with a light grin on his face, knowing that your orgasm would be his.

You lifted your knees, pushing the toy in and out of you, moaning repeatedly. You desperately pushed the button, speeding up the vibrations. The pleasure brimmed instantly, barreling down your spine—but it wasn’t enough.

Then, your mind spun. You were overcome with memories of Wonwoo—the way he breathed against your neck, fitfully, muffling raw moans against your skin. The way he marked you like you were his, the way he pushed inside you, slowly, deeply.

You slowed down, filling your lungs with air as you slipped the toy inside you, enjoying the vibrations massaging your walls. You pushed it back in, slowly, bottoming out on it. In your mind, you saw Wonwoo, you felt him.

You let out a high-pitched cry—it being instantly cut off by a gasp when the orgasm tore through you, rippling down your body. You arched your back, letting the toy pleasure that spot deep inside you, prolong your orgasm.

You were rendered languid, breathless, and taut on your bed. That was until you felt the urge to pull the toy out of you, which you did, turning it off.

Opening your eyes, you stared at the ceiling, contending now with what you saw in your mind’s eye.

You had pleasured yourself thinking about Wonwoo—and Mingyu.  

You sat up slowly, pulling your pants up with shaky hands.

Somewhere on your bed covers your phone buzzed. You reached out for it, unlocking the screen to have your heart jolt at the words, “I’m outside” from Wonwoo.

You rubbed a hand against your face. Shame and guilt spread through your face and neck.

Pushing yourself up, you decided to discard the used vibrator inside your drawers and rushed to grant him access to your building.

You tried fixing your hair, still shaking with the aftermath of what you had done.

And when Wonwoo knocked on your door softly, you knew there was something wrong with you. Because the shame vanished, and was replaced by a joyful excitement to see his face again.

“Hey,” Wonwoo breathed, his eyes outlining your face, your body. “How are you?” he asked.

You were reminded why he asked that, why worry was all over the features of his face. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, swiftly bringing a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

Wonwoo gasped nervously, but his hands quickly found your waist. “Wait,” he whispered, but was quickly shut up by another kiss from you.

You pulled him closer, your other hand closing the door behind him. “I was thinking about you,” you confessed abruptly, not caring about how you were coming off.

“You were?” he asked, his tone laced with surprise and amusement. He let out a giggle in your mouth, one that sounded almost boyish. “Hold on—please,” he sighed, his body tensing as you ran your hands down his chest.

You stepped back, reality hitting you hard. “I’m sorry,” you blurted, bringing a hand to cover your mouth.

“No, don’t be,” he mumbled.

Then he paused, assessing you with a quick glance and lowering his backpack on the floor.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, putting two fingers beneath your chin to lift your face to him. “You don’t want to talk first?”

The light touch of his fingers against your face made your skin tingle. You blinked at him slowly, a short sigh leaving your body involuntarily.

“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head.

Wonwoo lifted his eyebrows. “We’ll talk later?” he asked, his voice was soft and gentle with you.

You had no other choice but to nod. “Yes,” you said, realizing that you indeed wanted to confide in him again—but your body was like a storm that needed to be sated by his touch.

Wonwoo directed a look at you for one second, content with what he found in your eyes. He dipped his head, meeting your lips with his in a swift kiss that had your lips creating a smacking noise. You smiled softly on his lips before kissing him again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What were you thinking?” he asked with a rasp, pressing soft kisses on your lips.

His hand switched from your chin to your waist, gently nudging you back. You understood what he wanted, and you staggered backwards, using your hands around him to bring him with you.

You stumbled upon the round table, gasping softly into his mouth when he broke away from your lips. His hand returned to your nape, his fingers tangling around the strands of your hair, and pulling it to tilt your head back.

“Mmn?” he pressed, his voice a mere murmur in your ear as he kissed your earlobe. “You said you were thinking about me.”

You had to bite your lip down to stop the moan from escaping your mouth. His lips were descending on the curve of your neck, kissing down the spot he had marked three nights ago.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, unable to move or to think. His wet lips were reaching your shoulder, caressing your bare skin with his breath as he breathed in your perfume.

A finger hooked around the strap of your tank top, nudging it aside to press his lips on your skin. He kissed each spot so softly that it left tingles on your skin, making it prickle.

“Baby.” He whispered, his voice barely making out a rasp.

“Yeah,” you swallowed, trying to ignore the effect that word coming from his lips had on you. “I was thinking about the other night, what we did…”

“What we did?” he repeated, sounding amused. He pulled back from your shoulder, letting you see the tiny smile playing on his lips.

You pushed his shoulder playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“We did a lot of things the other night,” he said jokingly, the smile not wiping off his face. “Do you mean how you yelled at me, and berated me for being an asshole to you?”

You clicked your tongue, playing his game. “I didn’t berate you,” you rolled your eyes.

Wonwoo was quick, leaning towards you and capturing your lips in a feathery kiss. “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he said with a raspy tone, pushing your body against the table with his hands on your waist.

You leaned back, unable to push against his kisses which turned from feathery to demanding. His hand snaked from your waist to your neck, his long fingers circling it gently, without pressing any important parts yet.

He pulled you into a long kiss, one that told you that he’d missed you over the course of days and nights of just sticking to chatting on the phone. He moaned softly as his tongue brushed against yours, the sound driving you a little more insane.

Your hands found his hard chest again, feeling his tight muscles, the light outline of his lean abdomen when you slid your palms down, your fingers reaching the hem of his t-shirt.

Wonwoo pulled back, his hand still circling your neck. His dark eyes found yours, looking at you intently. “Were you thinking of doing this?”

You nodded, biting your lower lip. It was hot and wet from his spit. “Yeah,” you sighed, sounding pathetically sweet.

The corner of his lips twitched. “Were you playing with yourself, baby?” he asked.

A shallow breath left through your nose almost involuntarily. The way he used his words made you inch closer to losing what little self-control you had.

“Yeah,” you parroted, your fingers inching closer to the sliver of skin between his belt and the shirt you were trying to hike up.

He gave you a smirk now, but it was sweet, like he found you cute. Using the hand that was on your neck, he pulled you closer to kiss your lips. “Filthy,” he purred softly, brushing your lips with his.

“Wonwoo,” you yelped when his other hand clutched your waist. It was insane to you that he was making you feel so much with so little.

“Please,” you whispered, swallowing hard. “Take me—stop playing, just…” You let out a whiny sound as he started giggling with amusement, as though he still found you cute in your desperation.

“Just what?” he asked, not quite kissing you, but his lips were still so close to yours.

“Fuck me,” you blurted. “Fuck me hard, I don’t care what you do, just do it,” you pleaded, not caring how pathetic you sounded.

Wonwoo gave you a hard kiss, not pulling away from you as he said: “You have a dirty mouth on you,” he said.

You were finding out just how much you liked hearing him talk to you that way. You practically melted against his touch, kissing him again. His hand was still around your neck, while the other searched for the hem of your tank top.

With a strange boldness, you pulled back, grabbing your tank top and hiking it up your torso. You felt his gaze on you as you stripped the tank top off, revealing your bare chest for him.

His gaze darkened, outlining your body like he’d missed it. He bowed his head, giving you a sweet kiss before his hand clutched your waist, pressing his chest against yours.

You gasped in his mouth, feeling his cold fingers dipping onto your soft skin. “Wonwoo, please,” you whispered, breathing hard against him.

He let out an amused sigh. “If I slip my hand in your panties will I find your pussy wet?” he asked, shocking you with the language he used.

“Yes,” you gasped, nearly angling yourself for him.

Wonwoo laughed, wrinkling his nose. “Dirty girl,” he whispered, leaning to touch your forehead with his. “I was also thinking about you,” he confessed.

Your cheeks grew hot. “What were you thinking about?” you asked, your tone whiny and sweet.

His hand circled from your waist, parking on your tummy. “I want to fuck you in front of a mirror one day,” he drawled softly, nearly purring. The tips of his fingers inched closer to the band of your panties. “I want you to see how pretty you look when I’m inside you.”

You nearly moaned, but he quickly shushed you by pressing his lips against yours. His fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties, brushing against your mound. His lips smacked against yours with each kiss he gave you, sighing softly when you moaned.

He pushed his hand further, finding the mess you made while thinking about him. A raw, deep moan vibrated on his chest. “God, baby, you’re dripping,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you moaned, parting your legs more for him, trying to tell him you wanted his fingers inside you.

But he took his time, gently brushing your entrance with the pads of his middle and ring finger. “I was thinking of how good you felt the other night,” he said, his voice barely audible, a gentle purr. “You don’t even know how good you taste, do you?”

You parted your mouth, choking on your own words. You wanted to say yes, you’ve tasted yourself. But every single word you knew slipped from your mind.

Because Wonwoo decided to push his fingers inside you. No warning, no more teasing. He pushed his fingers until you could feel the palm of his hand against your pussy lips.

You squeezed your eyes shut, twisting your fingers around the fabric of his t-shirt. “Fuck,” you breathed. 

“Were you doing it like this?” he asked, barely pulling his fingers out of you to then push them back in.

“No,” you mumbled.

“No?” he pulled his fingers out, sliding them on your clit as you parted your legs more for him.

You leaned back against the table, pressing your palms on it to support yourself. You shook your head, unable to talk.

“Words,” he reminded you pointedly.

“I used a toy,” you blurted, shame tingling beneath your skin.

His fingers swirled around your clit. “Did it make you cum?”

“Yes,” you breathed, loving the sound of those words coming out of him.

“You think a toy can do it better than me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, heart beating fast at your own boldness.

You were clearly challenging him. You omitted the fact that you had to pretend it was him fucking you instead of a toy. And also, how you were comparing sizes, and that your toy wasn’t enough.

But Wonwoo took the bait.

He grabbed you by the arm, effortlessly moving you to your bed. He pushed you with near carelessness, your back hitting the mattress.

You gasped in surprise, looking at him with an alarming need now. You needed him. You were more than ready for him.

“Take your clothes off,” you said.

Wonwoo tilted his head to one side, arching one eyebrow. “Take them off me,” he bit back.

You sat up, hurriedly taking each item of his clothing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt, distracted by the huge bulge beneath his jeans. And when he was finally undressed, you dared to explore his bare skin with your hands.

He was ready for you. Completely hard and leaking precum for you. You raised your gaze to his face. “I—” you gulped.

He smiled knowingly, pinching your chin.

He moved to the bed, hooking his fingers around the band of your sweats and panties, pulling them down. “Lean back, baby,” he muttered, grabbing you by the hips and helping you part your legs for him.

He wasted no time, pushing his tongue between your pussy lips, giving you a generous stroke with his tongue.

“God, Wonwoo, yes,” you sighed, raking your fingers through his messy hair.

He moaned against your pussy, pushing his fingers inside you again, curving them against your walls.

“Fuck,” you groaned, looking at his face as he pushed it against your cunt.

Wonwoo teased your clit with thorough, open-mouthed kisses. His fingers massaging your walls, dragging his knuckles slowly in and out.

“More,” you blurted with a lewd tone.

He dragged his tongue flat on your clit right before wrapping his lips around it, sucking it lightly. He started plunging his fingers in and out of you, curving them against your walls, against that spot you were itching to find.

“God, Wonwoo,” you gasped, bringing a hand to the back of his head as he ate you out just like the other night.

But he was on a mission now. He was thrusting his fingers in and out of you like he was trying to make you reach your high quickly. And that was easy, you were already shaking, your breathing ragged as you inched closer and closer.

“Oh, fuck, Wonwoo—” you gasped, aware of the lewd sounds coming out from the rapid thrusting of his fingers. But there was another issue—and you knew you were closer to your orgasm, but it felt different. Urgent, and so wet. “Fuck, fuck, stop.”

He detached his mouth from your pussy, pulling out his fingers and looking up at you.

“Wait,” you said, panting embarrassingly loudly. You smiled despite yourself.

Wonwoo sighed amusedly. “Too much?”

You nodded, still breathless. “Please, fuck me,” you sobbed, not caring how pathetic you sounded. “I need you.”

Before he gave you what you wanted, he took his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean off your arousal. You followed him with your gaze as he hovered on top of your body, arms on each side of your head to give you a kiss. You muffled a moan in his mouth, feeling his tongue brushing yours, making you taste yourself. 

The act was so lewd that you felt a rush tingling down your spine. 

Then got to his knees, positioning his hips between your legs in an upright position. “Where is it?” he asked.

You blinked at him dumbly, but understood after a second. “In my drawer,” you replied, and then you added: “Why?”

He shrugged slightly, reaching to open your drawer. “You said this thing can fuck you better than I can,” he said with ease, examining the dildo you had used, still slick with your mess.

But he pulled out another toy—one you used more frequently because you deemed it to be more effective than the dildo. It was a rose toy. He glanced your way, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You were about to take the toy from his grasp, but he was faster—trapping your wrists with one of his, pinning them above your head.

“Keep them there,” he mumbled, leaning back on his upright position.

Then something happened inside you. You forgot about misbehaving, about taunting him. The darkened look on his face was all you needed to know that you were about to get what you wanted.

He grabbed his cock with one hand, rolling it a few times to smear the precum all over its head. Then, his gaze fell on your body, on your pussy all dripping with your arousal and pink with overstimulation.

He bit down his bottom lip, guiding the tip of his cock down your folds, playing with you. “Wonwoo,” you called with an annoyingly sweet tone. “Stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

“Grab the railings,” he motioned with the tip of his nose at your headboard. You did what he asked, just as you felt his bulbous cockhead notching at your entrance.

And with no more teasing, no warning at all, he pushed inside you. All in one go, he bottomed out with a pleased sigh.

You let out a mewling sound, closing your eyes tightly to enjoy the sting his cock gave you as it stretched your walls. “Fuck, Wonwoo,” you gasped, trying to urge him to start moving.

But then, he turned the toy on, guiding the centre of it to your swollen clit. The relentless vibrations overwhelmed you instantly. You cried out, feeling another orgasm surge inside you, consuming you quicker than all the other orgasms you’ve had.

Wonwoo started moving his cock inside you with slow, deep thrusts. Still biting his lip, his hair dishevelled, looking at you like he still had something to prove. Maybe because he did—and it was entirely your fault that he’d taken on this challenge.

You moved one hand to take the toy from his grasp, but he slapped it away. “Hands where I left them,” he said.

“It’s too much,” you whined, attempting to reach for his hand once more. “Wonwoo, I just need you.”

“Mmn?” he raised his gaze to your face. “What was that, baby?” he asked with a gentler tone.

“I just need you,” you repeated breathlessly, squeezing your eyes shut to let your tears go. “No toys. Just your cock, just—just…”

You arched your back, writhing on your bed as another orgasm rippled through you, taking over your ability to think and speak. You came so hard that you weren’t able to contain yourself, crying and panting pathetically.

“Oh, baby, look at yourself,” Wonwoo sighed, sounding amused. “You’re wetting the bed.”

“Please, please, please,” you gasped, ignoring the shame boiling in your blood. You pressed the side of your face on your pillow, realizing that it was wet with tears.

“Please, what?”

“Just you,” you mumbled dazedly, blinking at him. “I just need you.”

Wonwoo turned the vibrator off, tossing it aside and grabbing your hips with his hands. He plunged into you, hard and deep, like he was holding himself back earlier. His thrusts were so full, so calculated that they made you forget about the overstimulation you got from the toy.

“God, fuck,” you writhed, grabbing onto the railings again, holding onto them as pleasure brimmed inside you.

“Good girl,” Wonwoo drawled lazily, moving inside you with the same deep and thorough thrusts you tried to emulate with your toy.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having him buried inside you—massaging your walls, reaching so deep you felt like cumming again soon. “God, that feels good,” you mewled.

Wonwoo sighed, and you opened your eyes to see his light smile. It did something to you—to see him smiling as he fucked you hard and deep. He looked so hot, his hair was dishevelled, and his glasses were slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah? Better than that toy?” he sighed with a mocking smile, pushing his cock inside your tight cunt.

You nodded dumbly. “So much better,” you admitted. And it was true—nothing could compare to the feeling of having him inside you. Raw, hard, and deep.

Wonwoo gave you a lazy smile, moving his hand to grip your neck lightly. He didn’t press hard, just circled his fingers around your bare neck, as though he just wanted to see how you looked with his hand around you.

And you wondered what you would look like. Wholly naked, legs spread for him, his cock disappearing inside you, tits bouncing gently each time he pushed his hips against you.

He slipped his hand from your neck slightly, brushing his thumb against your lips. “Open up,” he whispered.

You obeyed, parting your lips to suck on his thumb. You rolled your tongue around his thumb, simulating what you wanted to do to his cock, looking straight into his eyes.

“Fuck,” he blinked, swallowing back a moan. He pulled his thumb from your mouth, guiding it between your legs, where he started rubbing slow circles against your swollen and very sensitive clit.

You flinched, overstimulated. “Wonwoo,” you mewled, closing your eyes. “Yes, please, please. Don’t stop.”

And he complied, like his pleasure was not important. He kept his thrusts deep, steady, flicking your clit expertly. You moaned lewdly, enjoying the sweet waves building inside you—readying for another orgasm.

“Fuck, Wonwoo,” you whined.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbled with a raspy tone. “Cum for me. Give me one more.”

“Wonwoo, fuck,” you sighed, your body tightened, your sanity slipping away. “Please, babe, don’t stop… don’t stop.”

Your jaw went slack, breath catching on your throat with a high-pitch cry as sweet pleasure bloomed inside your body, stretching to every limb, dancing beneath your skin.

Wonwoo moaned, the sound raw and raspy coming from his chest. But you found that he had liked the sound of your voice calling him babe, his light smile told you that much.

He tilted his head back, sighing out in pleasure. “Baby, I’m close,” he purred, swallowing hard.

You nodded to him. “Cum inside me,” you told him. 

Wonwoo didn’t remove his gaze from yours, his eyes peering into your soul as he moved his body against yours. A deep moan came out of him, his chapped lips parting softly as he spilled himself inside you. 

You were both panting, looking at each other like there was something left unsaid. It was obvious, though, and neither of you needed to speak out. 

There was something flowing in the air between you. Electrifying, alluring. You knew Wonwoo knew it too. 

You liked Wonwoo. More than you were allowing yourself to admit. 

“Hey,” he sighed, his chest still rising and falling steadily. 

“Hey,” you replied softly. 

“Okay?” He arched his eyebrows.

You nodded. “Amazing,” you replied with a lazy smile.

He returned the smile. “You were so good, babygirl,” he hummed, squeezing your hip gently.

“Hmm,” you hummed sweetly, palming his hand on your hip. “Take a shower with me, yeah?” 

He nodded, looking at your hand on top of his. “Yeah,” he said. “And then we talk?” 

“We talk,” you agreed.

“What do you usually do to feel better?” Wonwoo asked after stepping out of the shower, using the towel you’d lent him to dry his hair, messily rubbing it against his head.

He was wearing only his boxers, his messy hair dripping wet. He looked like a dream, making it hard for you to concentrate.

You took a long moment to think. “I don’t know,” you admitted with a shrug. “I could say a bunch of different things, but right now I just want to relax. Maybe talking about it will help.”

You opened your drawer, aware that Wonwoo was watching you intently as you spoke.

You pulled out a couple of face masks and two bandanas—one with cat ears, the other with bear ears—and handed him one without a word.

Wonwoo smiled softly, taking the bandana. He looked at it for a long moment before putting it on.

You laughed, reaching out to adjust the cat ears on his head. “There,” you whispered, your eyes drifting back to his face.

“So this is what we’re doing?” he asked, picking up one of the face masks. “Skincare and talking?”

“Yep,” you replied, nodding primly. “And maybe we’ll cuddle later, if I start crying.” You laughed at yourself.

“That sounds like a good plan,” he said.

“Crying sounds good to you?”

Wonwoo opened the package with his long fingers, unfolding the mask carefully. “I mean, it releases toxins, cleans and lubricates the eyes—at least it does for me. Plus, you get a kick of endorphins afterward. Overall, it’s good. Regulates—”

“Wonwoo.” You deadpanned.

“What?” he asked, lifting his face. “Am I talking too much?”

You smiled, your stomach flipping. “You’re cute,” you sighed.

Wonwoo smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you giggled.

“But seriously, I think it’s better to cry it out.”

“It makes my face puffy,” you said, unfolding your mask.

“So what? You’re still pretty,” he murmured, still struggling with his.

Something fluttered in your chest. “Here, let me,” you said, taking the mask from him and unfolding it, then placing it gently over his face.

His eyes stayed on you. He rested a hand on your hip—almost unconsciously, like he couldn’t keep from touching you. As though he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“What?” you asked, sensing his gaze.

“I can’t see,” he laughed. “I need my glasses.”

“Oh,” you chuckled. “You could wear them over the mask.”

He pushed his glasses into place, grinning faintly. 

You turned to your bed, stopping before it. “Oh,” you uttered, seeing the wet spot on the side of the bed you always used.

“We’ll have to lay on the other side,” Wonwoo said with an ease that made you think this was almost inconsequential to him. 

“I could change the covers,” you said, shrugging lightly. 

Wonwoo palmed your butt lightly over your clothes. “Or we could rest, baby,” he said gently. 

“Yeah…” you sighed, realizing that you were too tired to change the covers. 

You lay back against the pillows, reaching for him as he followed you onto the bed.

Wonwoo sighed, wrapping an arm around you. “You okay?” he asked.

You blinked. “I feel like a mess,” you whispered. “Like I’m free-falling.”

“You’re allowed to feel like that,” he said, calm and steady. “You’re someone who got hurt. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

You turned your head to look at him. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He shrugged. “Because you deserve it.”

You didn’t doubt the sincerity in his voice, but part of you couldn’t fully believe it.

“I know I said I was okay earlier,” you murmured. “But I wasn’t. I’m still not.”

“You don’t have to be,” he said softly, reaching for the hand resting on his stomach.

You watched as his fingers played with yours, slow and careful. “I really thought I was doing okay,” you said, voice cracking. “But I realize now that I’m not.”

“You’re still healing,” he murmured. Then, after a beat: “And your ex was an asshole. No one could’ve predicted he’d say something like that.”

You closed your eyes. “He is an asshole,” you agreed. “It’s a good thing I broke up with him. Dodged a bullet.”

Wonwoo hummed, amusement blooming in his chest.

You lay in the peaceful moment for a while, listening to the faint sounds coming from the streets outside. His hand was still holding yours, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

“Can I ask you something?” you whispered.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“Do you wish things had happened differently? Between us.”

You felt him turn slightly so he could look at you. And when you moved your head on his chest, you found his gaze on you. Steady, thoughtful. “Sometimes,” he conceded. “But I don’t know if we would’ve ended up here if they hadn’t happened this way.”

You nodded, your gaze falling to his chest. “I just keep thinking… how things started, everything leading up to here…” you said faintly. “I don’t want to mess this up more because of how we started this.”

His thumb brushed gently against your knuckles. “You’re overthinking it, baby,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

The gentleness in his voice made your throat tighten. He was giving you the assurance that your soul craved to hear.

You wanted to say something, anything to match the certainty in his voice. But you couldn’t find the words.

You rested your head on his chest again, letting the quiet pulses of his heartbeat reach your ears, filling the silence.

For a while, neither of you spoke. And you continued to search for words to say.

From the beginning, Wonwoo had shown you that he wanted this. That he was choosing you for you. Not because of the things you had to offer, not for your body, or your pain.

You felt seen.

“You make things sound easy,” you mumbled finally, your voice sounding tiny.

Wonwoo let out a soft breath, and you could picture the smile that came with the sound. “I know it’s not easy. I’m just trying to meet you where you are.”  

“And where is that, exactly?”

“Somewhere between healing and trying to feel something again,” he answered with a softer tone.

That made you smile. “Sounds about right,” you replied.

Wonwoo shifted slightly, lifting his phone to glance at the screen. “How long are we supposed to have this?” he asked.

Your mind was so clouded that you'd forgotten about the mask completely. “Fifteen minutes.”

“It’s been twenty minutes already,” he said with a light laugh.

“I guess we should take them off,” you replied in kind.

You both sat up slowly, facing him as you peeled the mask from your faces. Wonwoo did the same, his fingers removing his glasses first.

You looked at him, your heart squeezing so hard it tore a giggle from you. “Hold on. You have a little piece stuck to your chin.”

He blinked. “Where?” he asked, lifting his fingers to his face.

“Here,” you whispered, reaching out. Your fingers brushed his skin as you carefully plucked the piece of paper off.

You didn’t pull your hand away, letting it linger. Your eyes met his, and the feeling consuming your heart just intensified, making it beat louder.

You blinked dumbly, moving away from him. In the bathroom again, you threw the facemasks in the bin, ignoring the mirror. You knew what you’d find in your reflection, because you could feel it—the tingling heat on your cheeks, the breathless, dreamy feeling.

When you came back to your bed, Wonwoo was still sitting there, now wearing his glasses. He raised his face, pressing his lips into a smile.

“Wanna cuddle?” you asked, the words flying out of your mouth.

He blinked slowly, the smile stretching on his full lips. “Sure,” he mumbled, laying back on the pillows. You leaned back into him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. Wonwoo wrapped an arm around you again.

The silence came again. But this time you weren’t scared of it, you didn’t feel like running away. You closed your eyes, snuggling closer to his chest.

Wonwoo brought a hand to your head, his fingers going through the strands of your hair with gentle motions. It felt as though he were putting your concerns to rest, calming the thoughts running in circles in your mind.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you did this soundly, nestling in Wonwoo’s safe embrace.

The sound of rain tapping lightly against your windows woke you up. You realized after a beat that you had woken up before your alarm went off.

The soft weight of Wonwoo’s arm around your waist made you keep still. He was still snuggled close to you, his chest pressed to your back. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the bleak light filling the room.

You must’ve woken him up, because he stirred behind you. He let out a soft hum, his nose brushing against your hair. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Good morning,” you hummed.

You turned over in his embrace, facing his chest now. You snuggled against his bare skin, using a hand to feel the warmth coming from him.

“Why are you awake?” you whispered.

“I’m hungry,” he mumbled. “Was thinking about where to go to grab breakfast,” he mumbled happily.

You giggled against his chest, circling an arm to hug him too. “What are your options?”

“I don’t have many,” he admitted with a lazy tone, as though he were falling back asleep. “But I know a place I think you’ll like.”

You lifted your head slightly, finding his face. He had his eyes closed, half of his face buried on the pillow. He peeled one open, a smile stretching on his lips when he saw you.

“You drooled in your sleep,” he said as though he’d just remembered it, smiling softly at the memory.

“Stop. No I didn’t,” you sighed, bringing a hand to search your face.

“Yes, you did,” he teased. “Gross,” he said.

“Shut up, Jeon Wonwoo,” you pushed his chest.

But he didn’t even budge. He let out a louder laugh at your feeble attempt. “Make me,” he said.

You planted a hard kiss on his lips. “That’ll do it,” you sighed.

Wonwoo paused, processing what you’d done. He clicked his tongue, grabbing your head. “Come here, you,” he muttered, pressing his lips against yours again, giving you a fuller kiss.

You giggled into his mouth, melting into him completely. He slipped his hand from your cheek to your neck, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. “Let’s go grab breakfast?” he whispered.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Wonwoo?” you teased, your eyes fluttering close as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Yes. I am,” he replied without letting another second pass.

Your heart fluttered, robbing your ability to speak. “Okay,” you breathed. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he replied in kind, and you realized then, he’d gotten nervous.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was the second time you’d woken up with Wonwoo in your bed. And yet, he was nervous about asking you out.

“You’re too cute,” you whispered.

He smiled, notching the tip of his nose against yours. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” you said.

And Wonwoo was more than happy to oblige.

Mingyu parked a block away from your apartment, letting out a big sigh as he turned the engine off. The entire ride over, he had rehearsed in his mind everything he wanted to tell you. He did this, while knowing that by the time he got to look at your face, he would forget his words.

He remembered the last night he spent at your apartment. His guts twisted when he remembered that look on your face when you opened the door for him. You looked so happy to see him.  

Will you look at him the same way?

The nerves were truly eating him alive. But beneath all that, there was something else brewing—something pulling him back. Heavier than guilt and more painful than pride. It was regret, telling him to turn back around.

But he couldn’t live a day longer missing you.

He leaned back in the driver’s seat, exhaling as his fingers raked his long hair back.

“Just do it, Mingyu,” he told himself aloud, sitting alone in Wonwoo’s car. “All you gotta do is ring the buzzer. Talk to her.”

And with that, he climbed out of the car, crossing the street with a pounding heart that could be heard throughout the whole block.

The sky had cleared for once. The rain had stopped about an hour ago, leaving a cold air that felt crisp on his face. He hissed, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he approached your building.

But then he stopped.

You were there. Just outside your apartment building, standing under the awning of the entrance.

But you weren’t alone.

There was a man beside you—taller than you, leaning too close for Mingyu’s liking. His hand brushed your back as you laughed at something he said, your face tilting upward.

Mingyu’s stomach dropped.

Everything happened too fast.

The proximity wasn’t enough for him to discern who the guy was. He was covered, wearing the cap of his hoodie over his head. But that didn’t matter. All he could see was how you looked at the guy.

Mingyu subconsciously took a couple of steps forward, staggering almost. But then he stopped cold, watching the scene happening before him like an outsider.

It was your smile, the distant sound of your laughter, that had stunned him, causing a deep blow to his chest. You didn’t look like the last time he saw you, crying at the bleachers. You looked like someone who had already moved on.

Mingyu couldn’t move. He couldn’t call your name. Just watched as you and the other guy walked slowly down the sidewalk, disappearing down the next corner. Together.

His chest felt hollow.

The words he had memorized were rendered useless, forgotten in the back of his mind. Without thinking, he turned around and walked back to the car.

He was too late.

But despite that, something gnawed at his soul. Something sticky, ugly. It took over him quickly, like fire burning down an entire forest. She’s mine, no one else’s. He thought, aware how crazy his inner voice sounded. But he didn’t care. He was beginning to see red.

She’s mine.

Mine. 

☾ author's note: hello, hello! ᨐฅ

this fic journey has ben craaaaaazy!! i was astounded by the amount of you guys that left comments and came to my ask box to share your opinions!! it really warmed up my heart 🥺🩵

it is the first time that one of my series is received like this, i mean that it has a lot of you sharing their opinions and theorizing in the comments section. some of you even had theories that are very close to where the story is going in the future and i was like 👁️👄👁️ truly amazing. wow. thank you!!

you know the drill, if you have something to say, comment it, reblog, give it a like, and my ask box is always open!! 🩵🩵🩵

toodles

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