#k vanity

“Where do you think you’re going, Little One?”

The deep, rumbling voice that fills the chamber seems to come from every direction. Your heart beats frantically, sweat beading on your brow as you look this way and that, attempting desperately to determine your next move. Already, your legs feel as if they’re about to give out beneath you, each step causing your whole body to tremble.

A loud boom echoes around you, the walls shaking as the creature chasing you takes another menacing step closer. You may not be able to see him, but his mere presence is omniscient. Everywhere you turn, you just know his eyes are on you.

“You cannot hide.”

The sound of rocks tumbling to the floor causes your breath to hitch in your throat, another thunderous step shaking the chamber around you. He’s getting closer, and it’s only a matter of time before he finally catches up. You swear you can already feel the heat of his body radiating against your skin, only causing tingles to shoot up your spine.

You’ve already wasted enough time. You need to move.

Dust kicks up with your every step, feet pounding against the stone pathway. Deeper and deeper you sink, dirt and grime clinging to the ends of your dress. The thin material of your skirt is already tattered and shredded, the fabric fluttering like wisps of smoke as you descend deeper into the madness surrounding you. All that you have to guide you are small torches, their flames seeming to burn into naught but embers when you turn back to glance the monster lurking over your shoulder.

You should have realized that he’s always been much closer than you think.

As if he’d ever let you get away…

When you first met Mingi, he appeared to you no different than an elf. He kept his hair short and his nails long. Both of which were quite unusual for his kind, in your opinion. Not that he seemed unkempt, he just didn’t blend in to the usual company that you surrounded yourself with. Plus, he lived on the outside of town near the mountains, mainly keeping to himself away from others. Much different than the dwellings you know elves prefer to have deep inside of forests.

Mingi hated trees. In fact, he hated almost all forms of plant life that grew around the area. The only type he seemed to tolerate was moss. Not the kind that grew in the forests surrounding the mountains, but the type that made its home on rocks. Something about the will to cling to life despite not being able to take root deep in the softness of soil.

The only thing Mingi hated more than trees was water. Any time it rained, you’d never see him dip his head out of his little cave that he called home. No matter how often you pried, or attempted to offer him a better home, he had always been perfectly content residing near the mouth of the mines. ‘Homely’, he called it. A place meant for only him and the one that was meant to return back to him after being so long apart.

You asked him about that once. About why he lingered in such a damp and dreary location if he hated it so much. Why would he force himself to stay if this one person he had been waiting for had yet to return to him in centuries?

Every time, without fail, he would reply with the same sad smile on his face: “They’ve just simply forgotten the way home.”

Now, glancing his imposing figure beneath the stone archway of the stairs, you realize the severity of your situation. Large wisps of wings stretch out behind his back, smoke emanating from his entire form. Two sharp horns, as black as night, rest on the top of his head, curving outwards before pointing straight up into the air. Bright embers burn within his towering figure, only causing his very silhouette to shine as if surrounded by a halo. Though, you know that he is no angel.

No. Mingi has made that fact explicitly clear.

Gone are the soft, yet callused hands you’ve come to love. Instead, each finger has been replaced by black talons, his palms larger than the length of your torso. Every exhale breathes more smoke into the area, black wisps billowing out from deep within his being. There’s something within his glowing eyes that lets you know that they’re fixated on you, his spine straightening as he lets out another earth shattering roar.

Slowly, Mingi begins to descend the stairs.

Each step is calculated, the weight of his true form causing the chamber to rumble around you. You nearly go tumbling forward as the shockwaves caress against your feet, breath hitching as you slip down the stone stairs.

Your eyes go wide, heart sinking in your chest as the world around you begins to move in slow motion. A feeling of absolute weightlessness surrounds you, and for a brief moment, you swear you see your life flash before your very eyes. The air is stolen from your lungs, bracing yourself for impact as you begin to tumble forward, and down the stone steps you had so desperately been using flee.

Only, the pain never comes.

Instead, you feel yourself being lifted into the air. The touch is surprisingly gentle, claws wrapping themselves around your body as if you might break at the slightest of pressure. Still, you can feel the very tips of a few pricking at your skin, tearing the fabric of your dress even more than it already has.

Amber burns brightly within his gaze as Mingi lifts you to his eye level. Your arms rest over the top of his hand, squirming beneath his heated stare as you struggle to free yourself. You still had more fight left in you, and you’re sad that a mere slip up on your end got you caught so quickly.

“No fair! You tripped me up!”

A semi-amused huff escapes the balrog holding onto you, more smoke billowing out from his nostrils. You can practically sense the glee radiating off of him at your mishap, more thunderous footsteps shaking the chamber as Mingi carries you deeper into his domain.

Reaching the bottom of the steps reveals a vast cavern, the ceiling stretching upwards and outwards for miles. Natural light pours in from small crevices in the side of the mountain, casting shadows over the pillars holding such a chamber steady. More torches light the walls, pictures carved into the stones depicting a very personal story.

The story of you and him.

Turning left, Mingi marches over to a separate room. It’s much smaller than the chamber you were just in, but just as detailed. Gold dances across the carved stone walls, veins of mithril shimmering within. More torches light the area, the only item of note held within such a space the intricate stone alter raised on a small platform in the centre of the room. A soft cushion resides on top of it, thin wisps of fabric lining every corner and acting as a transparent shield of protection for any that reside beneath.

With the gentlest of ease, Mingi settles you carefully atop of the alter. He’s spent a great deal of time preparing for this moment, and he wants to make sure everything is perfect. Which is exactly why he keeps you pinned beneath his hand as he stares down at you with those piercing eyes.

“The time has finally come to make you mine.”

Mingi’s voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The flickering flames only serve to make his large, imposing figure all the more menacing as he leans over you, staring you down as the tips of his claws dig into the soft cushion beneath you. All you can do is stare back at him with wide eyes, heart pounding erratically inside of your chest as you wait for his next move.

Slowly, the creature above you begins to shrink. Familiar features become apparent through the smoke, Mingi partially shifting back into his humanoid form. Black claws still adorn the tips of his fingers, those horns continuing to sit proudly upon his head. Large wings made of nothing but the darkest of shadows flare out above you, those embers still burning brightly within his eyes. Sharp features greet your sight. Features which you have come to both know and love, just as you did many years ago.

Finally, after all this time, you remember.

You remember him. You remember yourself. You remember the both of you. Together.

Lips press against your own, hands sliding up the sides of your thighs. Mingi’s touch is warm, and though you know he burns hotter than any sun, he would never burn you. Instead, your skin is greeted by a comfort you had long forgotten. A comfort which you are glad to finally be able to feel after going so long without it.

“I missed you,” Words get mumbled against your lips, Mingi parting from you only to begin dragging his own across your cheek and down your neck. Soft kisses get pressed against your skin, the tip of his fangs brushing along your pulse. The way you shudder beneath him has him smiling against your neck. “I knew you would return to me one day.”

The two of you made a promise. A promise which you both have every intention to keep.

“I told you I would find my way back home.” Your fingers come up to thread lightly through his hair. Ever since you got your full memories back, he’s begun to grow the dark locks out again. Those familiar streaks of amber shine throughout, only becoming more prominent the longer the strands get. “I kept you waiting long enough.”

“And I told you that a King waits as long as he has to in order for His Queen to return.”

Another shiver rushes down your spine, a soft gasp parting your lips.

“Fuck-“

“Still like it when I call you that, eh, Pretty Girl?” The tip of his nose nudges the underside of your jaw.

“Never stopped…”

“Just as I never stopped loving you,” He hums, trailing more open mouthed kisses up your neck. His lips find your pulse, suckling gently at your skin. Soft pants escape him, low rumbles beginning to emanate from deep within his chest. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this day…”

“You don’t have to wait any longer, My King,” Your fingers gently continue to thread through his hair, holding him lightly to you. “I’m here now to fulfill your every fantasy.”

Another low, rumbling growl fills the chamber around you. Those embers held within his eyes burn brighter, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“Then, what are we waiting for, Pretty Girl?” The tips of his fangs peek out from behind his lips. “It’s time to make you mine.”

The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears, and in the blink of an eye, Mingi has torn your dress right from your body. You can feel the tips of his claws trailing over your chest as he does so, sending another prominent shiver down your spine. The shredded fabric soon gets tossed to the side, Mingi’s hands settling on your waist as he kisses his way down your body, nuzzling his face tenderly between your breasts. Small nips get trailed over your skin, lips soothing over the scrapes left behind by his fangs. Even his tongue comes out to caress over your skin, tracing along the swell of your one breast until he comes to settle himself directly above your heart.

Loving hands trace up your sides, fingers caressing over your skin as he shifts to cup your breasts. His thumbs tease over your nipples, squeezing at such soft flesh as a deep moan reverberates from within his throat. More kisses get traced over the curve of your breast, tongue coming out to flick teasingly over your nipple as you arch into his touch. You can feel the way he smiles against you, suckling that pert bud lightly between his lips while giving such tender flesh another appreciative squeeze.

A gasp parts your lips, eyes fluttering as you feel his thumb and forefinger begin to pinch at your opposite nipple. Ever so carefully, he begins rolling that pert bud between his fingers, continuing to nip at your skin all the while.

“Mingi…” His name escapes you as no more than a blissful sigh, those strong hips of his slotting themselves against your own. The way he slowly begins to grind himself into you elicits another gasp from your throat.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl,” Mingi coos, pressing more heated kisses against the skin of your breast. “Just like that… Cry out for me…”

Those sinful lips of his wrap around your nipple once more, suckling lightly while the tip of his tongue teases against that sensitive nub. The fingers of his opposite hand continue to tease at your other breast, rolling the pert bud between them. You can even feel the tender scrape of his fangs drag along such sensitive skin, only causing a sharp gasp to part your lips.

You have just enough time to feel the way he smirks against your skin before he’s releasing your nipple with a wet pop. Another tender kiss gets placed upon the swell of your breast before Mingi sinks his fangs deeply into your flesh, directly above your heart.

The sharp sting, followed immediately by the soothing warmth of pleasure, causes your back to arch slightly from the alter. Your breath catches in your throat, hips jerking against his own as you feel him pull away from you, only to begin laving his tongue over the mark immediately afterwards.

“Mine.”

The deep, rumbling tone that echoes around you goes directly to your core, pleasure pooling within. Your heart flutters, fingers digging harshly into the skin of his shoulders to ground yourself. Already, your head is spinning, and he’s only just begun.

“Yours, Mingi,” You breathe out, peering down at him through hooded eyes. “I always have been, and I always will be.”

“Damn straight,” Each word is lined with a low growl, those embers within his eyes burning brightly as he peeks up at you. “You’re mine, My Queen. Just as I am yours.”

“Mine.”

This time, it’s his turn for his hips to jerk against yours, a low moan parting his lips. Mingi’s brow furrows, laving his tongue one more time over your new bite mark before kissing the rest of the way down your body.

Mingi takes his time to trail his lips over every inch of your skin, moaning against you with every kiss. His hands slide over your every curve, squeezing at your flesh appreciatively every chance he gets. More marks are bit into your skin, but none are as prominent as the one now shining over your chest. Still, you know him, and you know that each new nip is simply Mingi finally being able to claim his territory, just as he’s always longed to do.

You can’t wait to be able to do the same to him.

“Just relax, My Queen,” Mingi’s low voice rumbles out, shifting himself lower over your body. “Right now, it’s all about you.”

Tender hands settle onto the skin of your thighs, sliding upwards and hooking lightly beneath your knees. He takes his time to spread you apart, moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt now on full display for him. You swear you watch those embers within his eyes pulse as you clench hard around nothing, feeling the way a drop of your arousal leaks out over your ass.

“Fuck- What a pretty little pussy, just weeping for my touch…” Mingi groans, another deep rumble echoing from within his chest. “And she’s all fucking mine to devour…”

“All yours, Min,” You coo, bringing your hand down to gently brush a few strands of his hair off of his forehead. “Feast to your heart’s content.”

“With pleasure…”

The moment those words leave his lips, Mingi wastes no time finally leaning into you. The very tip of his tongue traces up the curve of your ass, following the exact path that small bead of arousal had not even seconds before.

Fingers sink into the backs of your thighs, the tips of his claws pricking against your flesh as Mingi laves his mouth over the entirety of your cunt. Lewd slurping sounds echo throughout the chamber, low groans getting breathed against you with every movement of his lips. His tongue slips out to part your folds, swirling that muscle so eagerly around your entrance before coming back up to flick teasingly over your clit.

“Fuck- Mingi!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, opposite hand coming up to wrap around his one horn. You tug him in closer, not that he really seems to mind. “Just like that-“

A pleased chuckle reverberates against your cunt, Mingi soon flattening his tongue and pressing it firmly against your clit. Slow, purposeful circles get drawn over that sensitive little bud, lips caressing over your cunt before wrapping around your clit and sucking like his very life depends on it..

Mingi’s eyes pulse as you keen into his touch, your thighs already beginning to tremble around his head.

He pulls you in closer.

Hot breaths and heavy pants hit your cunt with his every exhale, low growls escaping him. No drop is to go to waste, Mingi laving his mouth over your entire cunt before suckling your folds between his lips. Again, he soothes over your swollen clit, curling his tongue over such a sensitive bud before suckling at it so tenderly.

All the while, that familiar pressure builds within you. Each flick of his tongue over that swollen little nub pushes you closer and closer towards the edge. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him in impossibly closer as he suckles your clit between his lips, shaking his head from side to side in the next moment.

With one final flick of his tongue, you fall right over the edge.

“Oh fuck- Mingi! My King!” A loud, keening moan escapes you as your back arches from the bed, thighs trembling around his head. A rush of pure euphoria floods your veins, soft moans and low groans falling from your lips. “I love you! I love you!”

Another pleased growl builds in his throat, Mingi pressing himself further into you. Not once does he dare part from your cunt, your cries only serving to make him even more ravenous than he already is. Amber pulses within his gaze, those large wings of his flaring out above you, smoke billowing out over every inch of the room.

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, keeping you spread wide as Mingi pulls you in even closer. Lewd, wet slurping sounds continue to fill the air, lips caressing over every inch of your dripping cunt. Every drop is but the sweetest, most sacred of nectars that pours from the holiest of founts, and he cannot let any of it go to waste.

Mingi worships the very ground you walk on. The very air you breathe does not know the grace of being able to fill your lungs, nor does any moonlight know the true ecstasy of being able to touch your skin. There is but one person in this entire world worthy of his devotion, and with every waking moment he spends living on this planet, he will forevermore prove that it has always been you.

“My Queen,” Mingi groans, suckling your folds between his lips once more. His tongue easily teases at your entrance before coming back up to flick rapidly over your sensitive clit. Another pleased groan escapes him, “Fuck- I love you…”

Plush lips wrap around your clit, the tip of his tongue circling around such a sensitive nub. His hands squeeze at your sides before sliding up to cup your breasts, fingers beginning to pinch and tease at your nipples. More moans are breathed into your cunt, Mingi soon flattening his tongue and drawing firm circles over your clit.

Your first orgasm has barely receded when you can feel the second building right below the surface. That familiar pressure tightens within your abdomen, thighs tensing around his head as he keeps his full attention focussed on your clit. With each flick and curl of his tongue over that little bundle of nerves, pleasure pulses within your veins. Your head begins to spin, fingers tightening their holds around him as your hips begin grinding against his tongue in time with his movements over you.

Another pleased hum escapes him, Mingi’s eyes shining as he watches your every reaction. Not once does he dare part from you, tracing the tip of his tongue over your clit before flicking rapidly at that pert little bud.

His wings flutter above you both, smoke casting thick shadows across the room. With each breath, more smoke billows out from his form, bathing the chamber in a fluid darkness that is all too familiar to him. Those piercing eyes of his burn brightly, holding you captive as you stare down at the creature utterly devouring you between your legs.

With another firm suck given over your clit, you tumble right over the edge.

Nothing but high pitched moans and whines of his name escape your lips as you feel that pressure finally snap within you, squirting all over his face. The pleased snarl he lets out goes right to your core, the corners of your vision going white as he laves his mouth over the entirety of your cunt. Thighs tremble around his head, his muscles straining as he keeps you pinned beneath him, still not relenting for even one second.

“Oh, gods- Mingi!” A scream tears from your throat, tears of overstimulation pricking at the corners of your eyes. All you can offer him are high pitched whines of his name, choked breaths parting your lips as he continues to flick his tongue rapidly over your clit. “My King! Fuck! You’re gonna make me-“

Your voice breaks as you get thrown immediately into another orgasm, your release gushing out of you as you squirt once more over his face. Not that Mingi seems to mind… At all…

That eager mouth of his continues to lave over your dripping cunt, pleased snarls and low rumbles escaping his chest. The tips of his claws prick into the skin of your waist, holding you close as lewd slurping noises continue to fill the air. Deep groans are breathed onto your cunt, Mingi finally slowing his movements as he cleans you with his tongue. No drop is to go to waste. Not when he’s been waiting for this moment for centuries.

Tender kisses get traced over your weeping slit, more pleased hums falling from his lips. Large hands soothe over your sides, sliding down your body to caress over your hips. Carefully, he brings his touch around to settle on the inside of your thighs, spreading you open as you continue to shake beneath his fingertips.

“Shhh, that’s it, Pretty Girl,” He coos so lovingly up at you. Soft kisses soon begin getting trailed over your inner thighs, Mingi nuzzling so tenderly against your skin. “Such a good girl for me… Squirting all over my face and soaking the sheets…Fuck- Could you get anymore perfect, My Queen?”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards, finally releasing your death grip over his hair and his one horn. A soft, airy chuckle escapes you, bringing a hand up to rub at your face. All the while, you attempt to catch your breath, chest rising and falling steadily with every inhale. Still, you cannot help the way your heart positively flutters at his words.

Slow, meticulous kisses get trailed back up your body, Mingi taking his time to lave his tongue over every bite he’s left behind. His lips soon find your own once more, slotting himself comfortable between your thighs. You can feel the weight of his hard cock settle onto your hip, a small bead of precome dribbling onto your skin. It makes you shiver, anticipation clawing at your stomach for what has still yet to come.

“I love you,” Mingi pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes. “I’ve loved you since the very first breath of the universe, and I will continue to love you even after all of the stars fade from the night sky.”

Your expression softens, heart swelling with warmth inside of your chest as you stare up at the beautiful creature holding himself above you. A soft call of his name falls from your lips, hands sliding over his chest before shifting to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Gently, you card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, refusing to tear your gaze away from his for even a second.

“You are more precious to me than all of the gems in the earth,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but even you can tell you have his complete and utter attention. “Nothing, no one, will ever replace you in my heart. From now, for all eternity, you will always be my home.”

Mingi’s lips are suddenly on your own, a soft whimper escaping his throat. The sheer desperation in his kiss takes your breath away, feeling the way he brings a hand down to grab his cock in the next moment. He teases the head through your folds a few times, bumping lightly over your clot before he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing forwards slowly.

The bulbous head pushes through your folds, making way for every ridge that fills your cunt with every inch he pushes into you. Each time he pushes forwards slightly, he pulls back, only to sink deeper inside of you with the next roll of his hips. You knew he would be big, his cock much thicker than you expected him to be. With each inch, you can feel him stretching you out, the base flaring wider the deeper he sinks.

With one final thrust, Mingi bottoms out in you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips, a deep groan emanating from within his chest. You can practically feel the way his cock throbs inside of you, clenching hard around him and feeling every bump and ridge nestled snugly against your inner walls.

The moment he shifts his hips, your breath catches in your throat.

“Fuck- You’re even more perfect than anything I could have ever imagined,” He pants out, a few damp strands of hair falling over his face. Those embers burn brightly within his eyes, lips parted as another moan escapes him. “So fucking tight… and warm.”

“Mingi-“ You voice catches again as he shifts above you, feeling as if the very tip of his cock is inside of your stomach. “Dear gods- I’ve never felt so fucking full in my entire life…”

A pleased growl rumbles from deep within his chest, soon pressing his flush against your own. Sharp eyes stare intently at your face as he pulls halfway out of you before suddenly snapping his hips into yours quite sharply.

Another choked gasp escapes you, clenching tightly around his cock.

“I was made for you, My Queen,” The words are but a low, guttural rumble upon his lips. Slow hands slide up the sides of your body, tracing up your arms until he’s pinning your hands beside your head and intertwining your fingers without a second thought. Ever so carefully, Mingi leans into you, pressing his forehead against your own. “I think it’s time I finally proved it to you.”

The way Mingi squeezes your fingers so delicately with his own completely contrasts the brutal way he begins snapping his hips into your own. The wet sound of skin on skin echoes around the chamber, low grunts and feral snarls emanating from the beast above you. Not once does Mingi tear his eyes away from your own, those fiery embers burning brightly as they seem to pulse with every beat of your heart.

“Oh gods! Mingi!”Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the feeling of him filling you with his cock with his every thrust sending pleasure shooting through your veins. Tingles erupt over your skin, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep within your cunt each time he sinks into you. Every ridge caresses over your walls perfectly, causing your heart to race and your head to spin. “You feel so fucking good inside of me-“

“Yeah? Feel good, My Queen?” Despite your lashes fluttering, you can hear the grin in his voice. Those strong thighs of his keep yours spread wide, hands continuing to pin yours beside your head. The tip of his nose nudges against your own, soft growls escaping him with every exhale. “You feel like paradise around me. I could get lost in you, forevermore, Pretty Girl…”

Another shameless moan parts your lips, his hips grinding into your own so tenderly. The brief reprise is short lived, Mingi creating that same brutal pace over you once more. Each thrust seems more desperate than the last, as if he might die were he to be parted from you for too long.

Every time he sinks into you, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The very tip of his cock hits such a sensitive spot inside of you, feeling as if he sinks deeper and deeper into you with each thrust. Each ridge that lines his cock only adds to your pleasure, brushing against your walls and causing your entire body to come alive.

Those glorious wings of his flare above you, smoke casting shadows over the both your figures. His entire body begins to glow, cracks of embers coming alive across his skin and spreading like lightning all over. He even goes so far as to release his grip on your hands, bringing one of his down to slip between your bodies. His thumb finds your clit, and the moment he begins circling over that sensitive little nub, your eyes begin to roll into the back of your head.

“That’s it, My Queen,” The words are but a rasp on his lips as he sits back up onto his knees. He pulls you in closer with one hand on your hip, claws sinking into the skin of your flesh as he continues to snap his hips into your own. “Let yourself go. I’m right here. Give it to me.”

“Mingi-“ All you can offer him is more whines and high pitched cries of his name, your voice catching in your throat. You can barely keep your eyes cracked open for too long, the sheer euphoria flooding your veins threatening to tip you over the edge at any moment.

Though, from the looks of things, Mingi is faring no better.

Ember blazes in his eyes as he watches your body bounce with every thrust. Those black claws of his have long since sunk into your hip, tiny rivulets of blood soaking into the cushion beneath you. The tips of his fangs pierce his bottom lip, red coating his skin and beginning to drip down his chin.

“Fuck- Never have I seen a sight more beautiful, or more perfect, than you,” He snarls out, pressing his thumb firmer against your clit. The way your whole body shudders beneath his hold has his tongue darting out over his lips. Pure hunger rests in those glowing eyes as he leans himself back over you, cock twitching deep inside of you. “Come for me, My Queen. Fucking flood my cock and feed this insatiable beast who has always longed for you.”

With those words, Mingi sinks his fangs into the side of your neck.

A guttural scream tears from your throat, vision going white as an indescribable euphoria floods your very being. Your thighs trembles uncontrollably around his waist, back arching from the alter as his name falls like a mantra from your lips. Tears leak over your face, nails digging harshly into his skin as you claw at his back, tugging him in impossibly closer. You can feel the way you gush around him, even as his knot begins to swell inside of you.

Warm come bursts inside of you, an earth shattering roar rattling the chamber around you. Mingi’s entire body shakes as he presses himself flush against you, blood coating his lips and continuing to drip down his chin. A few more tender grinds of his hips are given into you as his knot swells, more come flooding your cunt as you squeeze so delicately around him.

Shadows begin to fade, those magnificent wings twitching as he keeps them held over the both of you. Less smoke fills the room, Mingi’s breaths mingling with your own as you both attempt to catch your breaths. He finally collapses on top of you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist and holding you close.

A tender kiss gets placed upon the fresh claim now residing on the side of your neck.

“You did so well for me, Pretty Girl,” His voice is a little strained, causing Mingi to clear his throat in the next second. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” You manage to pant out, hands splayed over his back and resting just beneath where his wings protrude. Still, your chest rises and falls in uneven pants, tingles of pleasure still shooting through every inch of your body. “Fuck-“

Mingi hums, a pleased rumble reverberating from deep within his chest. Another kiss gets placed upon your fresh claim, shifting his hips slightly to get more comfortable.

Your breath hitches, lashes fluttering as you feel him settle on top of you. Your arms tighten around him, taking a few slow breaths inwards in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

“Are you alright?”

The inquiry is so cautious… so tender, that you cannot prevent the way the corners of your lips turn upwards.

“Never better,” You hum, a pleasant shudder rushing through your entire body. Slowly, you blink your gaze back open to meet his own. “Are you alright, Min?”

“I don’t think I could be better, even if I wanted to,” A loving nuzzle is given into the side of your neck, his arms squeezing so tenderly around your waist. “My Queen has finally come home.”

“Good,” You coo, bringing a hand up to brush some hair off of his forehead. “I’m glad.”

The smile you wear begins to turn a bit more sultry, and in the blink of an eye, you’ve flipped your positions.

A low groan escapes Mingi, his hands finding purchase on your hips. The soft, inquisitive call of your name only causes the corner of your lips to tug further upwards as you stare down at the beautiful creature splayed out beneath you.

☾ 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: i was supposed to post guilty pleasures first. but then jeonghan decided to make an appearance at the 09.14 concert and wrecked my whole world. also, the sex scene is obscenely long. i'm sorry. you've been warned. ksksks

✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part ix

Your fingers twitched, hovered over your keyboard, and then settled.

The clock in the corner of your laptop screen read 3 AM on the dot. The room you had set up as a study was so quiet that you could almost hear the static coming from the monitor and laptop cables.

You had rejected the headphones some hours ago, convinced that there was nothing that could help you focus. The third cup of tea of the night sat on your desk, and you drank half-way through. Cold and abandoned.

And the staring contest had been going on for more than thirty minutes now. Words ceased to exist in your mind, coming at you in stale, meaningless sentences. You didn’t want to face it, you didn’t want to admit it. But then you sighed in resignation.

You had writer’s block. Again.

You pushed yourself back, using your hands on the desk to roll out your chair and got up. You left the light on, going down the hallway and into the living room.

The apartment was dark. And it was almost unsettling to walk through its deserted rooms in the middle of the night. The only sound was the one you made when you drew the tall curtains, blocking out the view of the vast, sleepless city.

You turned on the lamp in the living room, and the soft click the switch made was almost too loud. But you were the only one to hear it, and it still made you wince. And then you headed to the kitchen, grabbing the lonely glass of water you had abandoned hours prior and filling it again.

You drank deeply, each large gulp filling your tummy to feel something other than the tight knot of anxiousness trying to eat you alive.

The front door pushed open, the sound causing you to snap from your train of thought. Your first instinct was to run to the front door and receive whoever had just crossed it. But you remained glued to the floor, determined to wait.

Yoon Jeonghan looked like hell.

His face was slightly puffy, his eyes worn and darkened. His hair was messy, ruffled as he had just taken his black beanie off with a sigh, taking a hand to scratch his scalp.

But he came to a sudden stop.

“Hi, baby,” he said, his voice gruff, but he was still gentle when he greeted you. “Why are you still up?” he asked, his tone gentle, coated in worry as he took some steps toward you.

“Hey,” you said dispiritedly, turning to face him.

He wore a black shirt, paired with a black leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers. And when he approached, you noticed a faint smell of tobacco, which made you look for his eyes. He had been smoking lately. Since taking on the role of director of a web television series, he had been stressed and resorting to old habits.  

“Is something wrong?” he asked when he noticed you’d dismissed his previous question.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you muttered, eyeing him up and down swiftly. “You were out late,” you pointed, biting back the need to reproach that he’d been smoking again.

“Yeah, filming was delayed longer than I’d expected,” he said, waving a hand like it was nothing.

“You could’ve texted back,” you said flatly, tilting your glass in the kitchen sink and emptying it before exiting the kitchen.

Jeonghan stood there, watching you turn away from him with a perplexed look on his face. He blinked. “I told you I was coming home late,” you heard him say, falling into step behind you.

“No, you told me that yesterday,” you said with a pained tone, but to your advantage, he didn’t get to see that mirrored on your face. “Guess you forgot to tell me today too.”

There was a silence, and the shuffle of Jeonghan’s feet on the marble floor stuttered, but he kept walking behind you.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he started, his tone gentle, and you could hear the honesty in the crack of his voice. “I-I thought I had told you not to wait for me. It must’ve slipped from my head, I’m so—”

“It’s okay, Hannie,” you sighed as you reached the door to the study, turning around to face him. Once you saw his confused expression, you gave up. “Just… forget it,” you said flatly, turning on your heel to return to your desk.

You sat down on your chair, grabbing your mouse and clicking aimlessly. With a painful jab to your gut, you opened the document you were working on again, finding the empty gap that you couldn’t bring yourself to finish. Hesitant, you brought your fingers to the keyboard, trying to type words and string out sentences.

But the presence standing under the doorway made you incredibly aware of how you couldn’t even pretend to write.

“Are you going to stand there?” you asked quietly.

Jeonghan entered the study with a careful gait, and you didn’t want to turn to see him, but you still did. He stood right next to you, sending one fleeting look to the screen right in front of you, and then back to you. “Come to bed with me,” he said softly. And you were quick to catch the cautious demeanour around him.  

“I’m mad at you,” you replied to him, but your voice waned in deceit.

Jeonghan showed you a smirk, tilting his head to one side. “Take it out on me. Talk to me,” he told you, shrugging slightly as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Yell at me, I don’t know.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes as you averted your gaze back to your screen. “I have nothing to say.”

“Baby.”

The chiding way he uttered your name made you look back at him once more. “What?” you asked, letting the annoyance you felt ring in your tone.

“Are you truly going to give me this?” he asked, his mouth transforming into a pout. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

You took a deep breath. “You should’ve texted back,” you repeated slowly, feeling your pulse quicken under the sudden rush of anger.

Jeonghan blinked, confusion settling on the features of his face. “I’m sorry about it. I forgot.”

But you weren’t fast enough to hold a rein on your reaction. You winced, and a quiet voice in the back of your mind questioned whether this was a valid motive to have an argument with him. “Exactly. You and Joshua like to forget that I’m here.”

Jeonghan sighed, but you didn’t give yourself the opportunity to see his full reaction. You glued your eyes to your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your unfinished manuscript, finding nothing. The words written there were almost completely polished; you just needed to write one final scene.

Your heart deflated painfully when Jeonghan backed away from you, leaving the study without saying anything else. You were unsure as to what he could say to make it all better, but right now, everything sounded wrong to you.

Your gaze inevitably wandered to the portrait that sat beside your laptop. It was a photo that Jeonghan had taken one night you went out together for a karaoke date. That night you had solidified in your heart that you wanted nothing more but to spend the rest of your days with Jeonghan and Joshua. You missed that night.

After a long moment of staring at your laptop screen, you sighed, turning it off and pushing yourself away from the desk one final time for the night. You sneaked a look towards the bedroom as you passed it by, finding out that Jeonghan was in the walk-in closet, probably changing his clothes into something comfier. You continued walking until you reached the living room, opening the door to the balcony and stepping outside.

The balcony was long and narrow, but spacious enough to fit a couple of chairs and a small table. You ignored them, propping your elbows on the banister and looking down at the streets below.

It was a chilly night. The breeze hitting your face made your eyes water at first, but you brought your hands to your face, burying your nose in the sleeves of your sweater to warm up. You let your eyelids fall close for a moment, and in that, the weight of your exhaustion finally caught up with you.

Back at your old apartment, you would routinely find yourself standing on the rooftop of the building, staring at the city lights. Looking for inspiration. Your heart squeezed at the memory, wishing you had one more night in that place, wishing you could go back.

There was nothing particular about that place in itself. But things seemed simpler. The old apartment wasn’t big enough for three people, but it didn’t make you feel like you were all alone in a mansion.

And now, having moved to a bigger place, you truly felt a punch in the gut whenever Jeonghan and Joshua left. There was still so much of this apartment that didn’t feel lived in yet. Some spots needed furniture, the floors were cold, and the walls were too tall. Something was wrong about it, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

The door slid open behind you, and you didn’t feel like turning around to see who it was. You kept looking over the twinkling city lights, trying to reach back into your mind and tap into that inspiration you were missing out on lately.

As soon as the place beside you was occupied, your heart fluttered. You knew it was Joshua without even having to turn your head. He placed his elbows on the banister and leaned over, mimicking your position.

After some seconds, you gave up. Turning your head slowly, you found his calm face. Eyes directed towards the city, his lips slightly pressed in a shadow of a smile. When he sensed your gaze on him, he leaned sideways towards you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said sweetly, moving his gaze from the city to your face. “Is it one of those nights again?”

Confusion swept all over you, dismantling your role of indignation. You opened your mouth, stuttering over empty words, “I uh, c-can’t write,” you admitted, eyes shifting from his face for one second, realizing in your head that the main reason why you were angry in the first place was because of your block.

Joshua’s gaze softened. “Is that why you’re in a mood?” he asked, his tone ever so gentle.

You frowned. “I’m not in a mood,” you fought back, thinking that both Joshua and Jeonghan had come home late in the last few days. “You—”

He smiled softly, catching your small misstep. “You were supposed to hand in the final manuscript three days ago,” he said, his tone dropping even lower.

“But that’s not the reason why I’m angry,” you lied. But as soon as you finished blurting the sentence, you wanted to take it back. You bit your tongue, causing tears to brim in your eyes.

“So you are angry?” he asked slowly, raising his eyebrows.

You let out an exasperated sigh, tearing your gaze away from his face. “You haven’t been home,” you said reproachfully.

That brought the conversation to a full stop. Both of you pondered in silence, looking at the city that had fallen silent as the nightlife slowed down.

Joshua let out a heavy sigh. “Baby, we have talked about this before. Jeonghan and I have very demanding schedules. We can’t—”

“I know,” you cut in quietly, blinking in slight annoyance. “It’s not that—I don’t mind that your jobs are demanding, I truly don’t. I just want you two to try to make time for me.”

“And we agreed that we would, remember?” he said.

You shook your head, gnawing at your bottom lip to mask the slight quiver in it. “You still haven’t,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze on your fidgeting fingers.

Joshua paused. But then, he directed a long look at you, sighing softly in resignation. “Is this really the reason why you’re angry?” he asked, and the softness in his tone was still there, but it felt hollow.

“Yes,” you hissed, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision. It made your heart race to feel your tears flow almost instantly. A nasty, sticky feeling took over you, brimming inside you with a boiling sensation at the pit of your tummy.

A sigh tore through you, making you bury your face in your hands. “I don’t know,” you finally said, sniffling against the sleeves of your sweater.

“Come to bed, baby,” he pleaded, his tone waning. And even though you couldn’t see his face, you could picture his sparkling dark eyes perfectly. “You’re tired. You haven’t been sleeping well these past few nights. Please, you need to rest.”

Your mind was split between the present and the memory of you being so happy just a couple of weeks ago. You were happy that Jeonghan had finally moved in with you and Joshua. You were happy to be with them both.

And now…

You nodded, lifting your head from your hands. Joshua stood back from the banister, now facing you. He brought a hand to your nape and the other to your back, pulling you closer to him. Once your chest touched his, he wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Hey,” he mumbled softly when you sobbed against his chest. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Is something else bothering you?”

You could tell from his tone that Joshua was truly worried. And rightly so—having disagreements and arguments with Joshua and Jeonghan wasn’t always smooth sailing. But at least you had learned to navigate through them. But this time, you felt blind. You felt lost.

But before you could tell him just that, you shook your head, your next sob muffled by the soft fabric of Joshua’s light grey hoodie. The woody scent of his cologne filled your senses, giving you an odd sense of peace. You found the smell of his cologne to be strong, almost aggressive at first—it made your tummy twist. But at the same time, it calmed you down.

Joshua slid his hands to hold you by the shoulders, pulling back from you to look into your eyes. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” he asked, moving his hand to pinch your chin.

“Okay,” you replied in a mere whisper, motioning for the door.

His hands brought you to a clean stop, firmly pulling you from moving further away from him and towards the sliding door. You turned to him, reading his face, a question forming at the tip of your tongue.

His hands moved from your shoulders, cupping your face fully. A gasp spilled from lips when the question couldn’t get out, because Joshua was crushing his mouth against yours. But he kissed you passionately, almost as though trying to snap you out of your despair. You searched his hands, finding his wrists, which you circled with your fingers.

His warm hands against your cheeks were enough to bring you back to life. You had been feeling so lost, so lonely that it was truly incredible how fast you could be saved from your own thoughts with only a touch.

You moaned in his mouth when his lips moved with yours seamlessly. Almost like two lovers dancing with each other. And when your lips pulled apart, creating a soft smacking sound, you let out a gasp, chasing his lips for more.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Joshua asked. His tone rose, and this was more than worry now. It was as though he was saying, I know there’s something wrong, but I’ll give you time to figure it out.

It crushed your soul to know that not even you could understand the turmoil happening in your head, in your heart.

“Yeah,” you breathed, teeth clattering slightly because of the chills coursing through you. “I know, Josh.”

Joshua pulled away, but not too far, just enough so he could see your face, your eyes. He then brushed the hair from your temple, tucking it behind your ear. Something he saw in your face made his gaze soften, his dark eyes glimmering against the bright city lights. But he said nothing, even if you could read the love written on his face.

Sometimes Joshua didn’t understand you. Sometimes he did. This was one of those times in which he sensed what was wrong with you, but he allowed you the opportunity for you to catch up with him.

And something about it was so reminiscent of the time you were just beginning to fall in love with him.

A sudden rush of overwhelming love came over you—it pushed you into his arms, and you were kissing him again. He mumbled a half word just as your lips collided with his, but you couldn’t make out what he said.

As your lips moved with his, you felt a daze seep into your skin, melting into your bones. The warmth and affection pouring from him made the armour you had put up crumble to the ground. And now, you were reduced to nothing but true exhaustion.

Joshua smiled, making you feel his lips curving against yours. “I take it that you’re not angry anymore?” he asked, his tone sweet, but teasing.

“I’m still angry,” you whispered stubbornly, even though the feeling had already simmered into nothing but a mere tantrum. “But I’m giving you both a pass for tonight.”

“Mmmn, as much as I want to take the pass, we do need to talk about it,” he said.

“Can we talk about it in the morning? I’m getting cold out here,” you said meekly.

“Of course,” he replied, giving you a small but reassuring smile.

Then he took your hand in his, sliding the door open with his other hand and took you inside. He didn’t need to lead you down to the bedroom by the hand, but he still did it anyway. It felt as though he were victorious that he was able to fish you out of the dark turmoil happening inside your mind, and he was not letting you go.

Jeonghan was lying on his side of the bed, his gaze glued to the phone screen. But once he caught sight of you walking in with Joshua, he discarded his phone on the bedside table. He paid attention now, his eyes quickly scanning your face.

He patted the spot beside him on the bed. “Come here,” he said, noticing that the pointless fury had dissipated.

You climbed on the bed, letting out a tired sigh as you tucked yourself under the covers. “I owe you an apology for how I acted,” you mumbled, moving your head on your pillow to lock eyes with him.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Princess,” he said, blinking briefly at you. He lifted his gaze from you, finding Joshua. “How was work?”

“It was okay,” he said simply as he started to undress. “Was dying to come back,” he confessed with a shy giggle.

You placed your head on Jeonghan’s chest, using him as a pillow to get a better view of Joshua discarding his clothes one by one, placing them neatly on the armchair.

“Mn, I get that feeling,” Jeonghan mumbled, running his fingers through your hair. And by his tone, you knew that he was looking at Joshua with the same intent as you.

Joshua climbed on his side of the bed. And then came the best part of the day for you—Joshua hooked an arm around your waist and pulled, peeling you off Jeonghan’s chest. You giggled merrily as you were dragged from one side to the other like it was nothing, and as soon as your body collided with Joshua’s, he let out a blissful sigh.

He immediately cuddled up to you, sinking the tip of his nose in your hair, breathing in deeply. Jeonghan said nothing this time, just clicked his tongue and scooted closer to you, a curious look on his face. “You’re feeling better now?” he asked cautiously.

You felt Joshua move behind you, and you knew he was trying to get a better look at you. “Yeah,” you said, but your tone felt off.

None of them commented on how obvious your mediocre lie was.

Jeonghan outlined the features of your face with his gaze. “I’ll remember to text you next time,” he said, pouting softly. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you said, tearing your gaze away from him, and in that, you allow both of them to communicate silently through a fleeting glance. “I’m probably just exaggerating.”

Joshua placed a hand on your hip. “Don’t say that,” he said.

“No, I know you both have very hectic agendas,” you said, but your tone was still weak, your gaze shifty.

“But we still have to let you know when we’re coming home late,” Jeonghan countered. Then a half smile drew on his face as you looked at him again. “It’s my day off tomorrow, so you’ll have me all for yourself.”

You matched his smile. “I like the sound of that,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan asked, clearly enjoying seeing you regain your smile.

“Mmm-mmph,” you nodded primly.

“I have an early schedule, but I can come back early,” Joshua mumbled sleepily, going back to nuzzle your hair with his face. “So I’ll be all yours tomorrow night too.”

“Okay. Good,” you said with a pleased tone.

Jeonghan grabbed one of your hands to kiss your knuckles, watching you as you blinked slower and slower. Sleep took you in, and you were mildly surprised to have fallen asleep so easily after nights of being wired up in tension.

“Sleep tight, baby,” Jeonghan said.

You were falling.

The level of awareness you had at that moment was very little—blanketed by the tiredness you felt. You were dreaming, hands roving all over your skin, touching and feeling you in places only you would let them and only them touch. You tried to voice it out—ask them to take you, to touch freely.

Joshua and Jeonghan were having you all to themselves yet again, splayed on the table and wholly naked. You were theirs to have fun with, theirs to take. And you would give yourself to them willingly any day, any night.

Joshua’s mouth was making out with your pussy, hands grabbing your thighs and keeping them apart while Jeonghan played with your nipples—fingers pinching and teasing one while his tongue swirled around the other.

And then you blinked, they had switched positions. Joshua kissed your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples to tug at it lightly. Now Jeonghan was between your legs, tongue buried between your pussy lips, licking vigorously.

The dream took you there quickly—and then you were falling. Your body stretched and went taut beneath the sheets, and you felt yourself emit a sound through your mouth, snapping you awake.

“What’s happening?” you muttered, feeling disoriented. You blinked a few times, understanding that you were having a dream where both of your boyfriends were pleasuring you—taking your body however they pleased. And you cummed in real life.

You turned to your side, finding Jeonghan peacefully asleep, his arm resting across your tummy. His eyelids were trembling slightly, his breathing deep and slow. Then you directed another look to your other side, where you found Joshua, wide awake and looking at you.

The orgasm you just had still sizzled beneath your skin, but as Joshua looked at you, you felt it linger. Your body was now ready for more, eager.

Joshua brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Were you having a good dream, baby?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. It made you think that perhaps you had woken him up by accident.

It took you some seconds to resurface from dream to reality. “Yeah,” you sighed, your tone already honeyed, weighted in arousal.

“Mmn,” he hummed, his voice raspy enough that it came out like a purr. The back of his fingers trailed from your cheek to your hair, threading it gently. A knowing smile spread on his lips when you blinked repeatedly as his fingertips caressed your scalp. “Care to share?” he asked softly.

You let out a breath, stretching your limbs beneath the sheets, and the last aftershocks from your orgasm were already leaving your system. “Don’t remember much,” you mumbled quietly, careful not to disturb Jeonghan’s sleep.

But Joshua wasn’t convinced, his smile spreading wider as his fingers slipped down to hold your chin up. “Want me to help you remember?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

You moved your head in a tight nod. “Please,” you whispered. And then, something came over you, because you lost all your capacity to stay sane. Your mouth lost all filter. “You both had me on the table.”

Joshua giggled lightly as he kissed you again, more passionately. “What were we doing, baby?” he whispered.

Behind you, Jeonghan stirred beneath the bedsheets, eliminating the space between his body and yours by simply outstretching his arm and scooping you from Joshua’s embrace.

“Ah—” Joshua gasped, watching Jeonghan pull you into a hug.

“You two are loud, I’m trying to sleep,” Jeonghan muttered, sounding half-asleep still. But then he did the opposite of sleeping, sinking his nose in your hair to breathe in the sweet smell of your skin.

Joshua’s gaze trailed down as Jeonghan’s hand pinched the fabric of the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, and then with a flick of his wrist, he hiked it upward, parking his hand on your belly.

Your body jolted against Jeonghan. His hand was cold against your skin, but you always welcomed his touch, light and gentle.

Joshua smiled, knowing that Jeonghan was fully awake now, but refused to let you go. “Where were we?” he asked, keeping his tone low. He scooted some inches towards you, closing the space again between his body and yours.

You giggled quietly before Joshua pressed his lips on yours, giving you tender pecks at first. His hand came to cup your cheek, right before diving into a deeper kiss of locked lips and shy touching of his tongue against yours. It brought a low hum out of you, feeling his tongue swiping on your bottom lip before rolling into your mouth expertly.

“Mn?” he pressed. “Are you going to keep telling me, baby? What were Jeonghan and I doing?” Joshua asked, his soft voice waning softly as your hands searched for him, feeling his warm body beneath the bedsheets and covers.

You squeezed your eyelids. “I uh…” You started, but Jeonghan’s hand moved, leaving a trail of tingles with his cold fingertips on your tummy. “You were eating me out,” you said shakily.

“Yeah?” Joshua whispered. “What else?” he stuttered slightly as you caressed his bare chest with your hand, running it down his torso and feeling the hard muscles of his lats.

“I think you were taking turns,” you said, giggling softly. You were now making the dream up with parts of the things you still remembered.

“Yeah? You were cumming, baby,” Joshua mumbled right before capturing your lips with his. He kissed you swiftly, moving his hand from your cheek to your hip, his fingers outlining the band of your panties.

“How do you know?” you asked curiously.

And as Joshua’s hands toyed with the waistband of your boyshort panties, Jeonghan pressed his front against your ass, making you feel his hardening bulge. You let out a broken sigh, pushing your ass further, wedging it slightly so you could make him grow harder. Jeonghan grunted silently behind you, his hand traveling up from your belly to your chest.

“You were moaning,” Joshua replied, his tone waning as your hand also reached the waistband of his boxers.

Jeonghan cupped one of your tits in his hand, flicking your sensitive nipple with the pad of his thumb and drawing an airy moan from you.

“Just like that,” Jeonghan added quietly.

“You heard it too?”  you said, feeling your cheeks get warmer.

“You were moving around more than normal,” Jeonghan mumbled, and you turned over your shoulder, finding his gaze on you. There was a light smile on his face, but just barely. His eyes were still dreamy, shifting from your face to Joshua’s.

“Oh god. That’s embarrassing,” you sighed.

Joshua smirked, pressing a kiss on your temple before getting out of bed. “Not the first time it happens,” he said playfully.

You watched him walk out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. “Do you have to go?” you asked, not even trying to hide the disappointment in your tone.

“Got an early schedule, baby! I will be back at eight, I promise!” he replied from the bathroom as he started the shower.

“Mmph,” you huffed, though not audibly enough for Joshua to hear.

Jeonghan emitted a light laugh, noticing the beginning of your tantrum. “Big baby,” he teased, wrapping you in his arms before kissing your cheek.

“Shuddup, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, feeling hot in the face.

But Jeonghan continued kissing you, from your cheek to your jawline, humming softly when he finally reached your lips. And when he pressed his lips against yours, you were too slow to reciprocate.

Jeonghan started laughing into the kiss. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone rising in mockery. “Are you turned off, baby?”

“No,” you said, but your tone felt off. “I just—mmph,” you were cut off by another crushing kiss.

 “Grumpy,” he whispered in between kisses.

“Hannie,” you giggled lightly as he showered you with tender kisses, trailing down to your neck to make you moan. Your skin prickled under his lips, making him smile triumphantly.

He stopped kissing you briefly, propping his elbow on the pillow to have a better angle to look at your face. “Hey,” he said softly, waiting for you to lock eyes with him. “I have some errands to run at Cheol’s bar. But I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You noticed the look he gave you. He was studying your face, waiting for your reaction. He was testing to see how you would take his words. And you couldn’t hide the disappointment flitting across the features of your face.

“Oh, okay. I see,” you said, looking away. “That’s okay.”

“But then I’ll come back and we can do something. Just you and me. How does that sound?” he said, sneaking a hand back under your t-shirt, parking right on top of your belly button.

Your eyelids fluttered at his light touch, you nodded. “I like that,” you told him, turning your gaze back to him again. “I just feel sad that we aren’t spending much time together anymore, you know?” you confessed.

His gaze softened. “I know, baby,” he told you, softer now. “Right now our agendas might be tight, but we’ll make it up to you.”

You smiled at him. “Well, you better,” you said.

Jeonghan matched your smile. “We will, sweetheart,” he said, leaning to press his lips against yours. “We’re in this together.”

At that, you felt at peace.

You circled his neck with your arms, locking your wrists as you kissed him again, deeper this time. “Yeah. We are.” 

Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was your writer’s block telling you to stop looking at the same document forever.

You set your laptop aside, looking at it with scorn. You had gone down your list of things you always did to combat stress and writer’s block. You went to the gym, you went out, you read new books and watched new movies. The last time you went through something similar, Jeonghan was there for you.

A sharp pain pierced your heart, making you wince on the couch. The pain was so real that it left an echo inside you, lingering with each beating of your heart.

With a big sigh, you rose from the couch, now determined to get through this without the help of anyone. Last time you had Jeonghan to help you out with your writer’s block. And way before that, Joshua was also there to give you inspiration.

You opened the drawer you shared with both of your partners. It was neatly arranged, and you had organized it into different sections. There were toys for you, toys for Joshua and Jeonghan, and toys that could be used with someone else, remotely, and such. You had a wide variety of toys—dildos, vibrators, wands, rings, masturbators, you name it.

But there were the effective ones, which you kept always on sight. Clean, charged, and ready.

Throwing a glance back at the door, you smiled to yourself with a hint of mischief. For a moment there, you felt like you were about to be busted by either of your boyfriends, but you were obviously alone.

After setting down a towel on top of the duvet, you lie on the bed. Doing this with the thought of your boyfriends finding you like this was beyond exciting. It had your blood coursing through you with pure ecstasy, heating your body, your face, your fingers.

You got naked, so now you were lying on the very large bed with your knees spread open. It felt almost surreal to be living this experience—to have not only one but two boyfriends and still resort to using your toys for a little pleasure?

But you discarded the thought aside, determined not to let anything bring you down. You pumped a little bit of lube onto your fingers, letting it drip off your fingers and onto your pussy lips. You sucked in a breath through your lips when the cold, runny liquid slid down your folds, and then you acted fast.

You turned on the suction toy by pressing and holding a button. It started vibrating softly in your fist, and you quickly took it to the top of your mound, finding your clit effortlessly. Your body immediately responded to the feeling of the slow, rhythmic vibrations against the very sensitive bud.

Much to your demise, you amped up the mode sooner than you would’ve thought. The feeling was mechanical, steady. You tried to compare it to the feeling you got whenever either Jeonghan or Joshua ate you out. And you were very much deflated when you wished to have that instead.

But a flashing thought came over you. The memory of that dream you had of your boyfriends sharing you made your entire body respond with a shudder. And you let your mind go, imagining Jeonghan and Joshua eating you out at the same time, both of their tongues lapping on your lips. You closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly.

And you attempted to hold that fleeting scene in your imagination. You needed that to happen, so you started to feed into the fantasy of having both of your boyfriends with you. You tried to remember how their lips felt whenever they wrapped them around your clit as the vibrator suckled at your clit.

“God,” you choked out, pressing the toy against your engorged clit even harder.

But as the seconds went by, and the pressure built up, you realized that you couldn’t cum.

You lost control, pushing the pad of your thumb on the button, amping up the vibrations against your clit. The feeling now was all-consuming, burning into the bundle of nerves relentlessly, almost aggressively. You whined like a wounded animal, trying to relish the pleasure that was attacking your pussy, and even though you liked the feeling, it was still hard to reach your high like this.

Squeezing your eyelids hard, you tried to pretend that your boyfriends were there. You moved the vibrator around your clit, trying to get more of its incessant vibrations. And even though the pleasure was blooming inside you, it wasn’t an orgasm.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, shutting the vibrator off.

You didn’t think twice and got up, going to your drawer to pull a dildo. And then the same thing happened, you tried reaching your climax in different ways. Different positions. You imagined twenty scenarios in your head.

Nothing.

You opened your eyes slowly, pushing yourself to your elbows and thinking of getting another rabbit dildo instead.

Only to find Jeonghan standing in the doorway.

A gasp left your lips at the sight of him. You hadn’t even heard him come in, let alone, you hadn’t even sensed him watching you masturbate.

But that wasn’t the first of your worries.

Your tummy twisted. He looked glorious. He wore a simple pair of white jeans, a black t-shirt and a denim jacket. It was a simple outfit, but it was he who made it look extraordinary. Leaning sideways against the door frame, he stood there with his arms crossed on his chest.

He tilted his head to one side ever so softly. “Having fun, Princess?” he asked, a small smile playing on his pink lips.

You huffed, trying to calm your rapid heartbeat down. “Trying to,” you mumbled flatly. You put on a pout, trying not to let your shame show. “Help me?”

Jeonghan pushed himself off the frame, walking idly towards the foot of the bed. “You can’t cum, baby?” he asked.

You gnawed at your lower lip, shaking your head as you let your head fall onto the pillow.

You heard a soft laugh, and sneaking a look at him, you watched him get rid of the denim jacket. He placed his hands on his hips, assessing the mess you had made of yourself with a big sigh. “You used all of these toys?” he asked, and when you nodded meekly, he just raised his eyebrows. “And you didn’t cum once?”

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” you said with a flat tone, making him laugh out loud.

“I bet there is,” he said playfully, making you smile. And when the white jeans came off, he climbed on the bed with you. You opened your arms to him as he crawled on top of you. Feeling his body against yours brought a blissful shudder to your body, making you sigh as you welcomed in his warmth, his smell—his presence.

“Why can’t you cum?” he mumbled, his tone sweet. He kissed your mouth swiftly but heatedly, then he moved his lips to your cheek, then to your jawline.

“I don’t know, Jeonghan,” you whined reproachfully. “It’s your fault.”

The accusation made him chuckle. “My fault?” he said.

“Has to be somehow,” you said, closing your eyes as he got to work immediately, kissing your chest with open-mouthed kisses, making your skin prickle and your body shudder.

“Mmph,” he hummed in acknowledgement. “Sounds like me,” he smirked against your skin.

“Yeah, it does,” you replied, not really paying attention to where the conversation was headed.

It was quickly proven that your toys were indeed completely and utterly useless.

Jeonghan was giving loving kisses to your body, doing nothing out of the ordinary. But you were already deep in a puddle of pleasure, relishing the feeling of his lips against your breasts, the way he kissed your nipples slowly, thoroughly.

“Hannie,” you called with a honeyed tone, tangling your fingers in his dark mane of hair, following his movements until he reached your mound.

And when he licked you, your entire body came to life. Your back tensed on the mattress, and your legs twitched. He licked the lube along with your juices, humming at the taste of you mixed with blueberry. His tongue lapped against your pussy lips, giving you broad and generous strokes right before he dove into your entrance with the tip of his tongue, having you wail out in pleasure.

He continued eating you out eagerly, giving a couple of playful tugs to your clit to get you all riled up. Waves of pleasure washed over you, slowly building up to something more. Something you had been so raring to finally have.

Jeonghan stopped.

Your head snapped up, looking at him pull back from your legs, using the back of his hand to wipe your arousal off his chin. “Wh-why did you stop?” you asked.

He gave you a full smile that denoted his mischief. Leaning over you, he gave you a crushing but passionate kiss. “So you have something to blame me for now.” 

Your heart squeezed. “Hannie—” you mumbled chidingly. “Keep going,” you said, your tone whiny and soft.

He pretended not to hear you. “What was that?” he teased, kissing below your earlobe.

“Please, keep going?” you asked, subbier now.

“Mmn,” he pretended to ponder. He cupped your cheek with one hand, sliding it down to your chin. “Why don’t you earn it, sweetheart?”

You felt your eyebrows knit. “I thought you were going to help me,” you said with an accusatory tone.

Jeonghan gave you a tiny shrug. “I am, but only if you do what I ask.”

You blinked dumbly. “But—”

“I see you two forgot about me already,” Joshua’s voice came in with a mocking tone.

You gasped, but couldn’t move due to Jeonghan’s body pinning you down to the mattress.

“Behave,” Jeonghan warned you firmly, but still mischievously. He left one final kiss on your cheek before pulling back. “Shuji, you are late. You know what that means,” Jeonghan pointed, sitting back on his knees.

“Late by a few minutes!” Joshua replied with a light laugh.

“But you promised you’d be on time,” Jeonghan quipped back.

Joshua came into your view. Looking at the mess you were in with a mildly surprised look on his face. “What happened here? Did all of your toys run out of battery?” he teased.

“Bunny can’t cum,” Jeonghan smirked.

“Jeonghan—!” you wailed out in shame.

“What?” he laughed. “Isn’t that the truth?”

You gaped at him, but then just huffed. “It is,” you said, blinking bashfully. “I can’t cum.”

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Joshua said with a shockingly beautiful smile. He turned around, starting to take off the plaid shirt he wore over a black wife-pleaser. “If I had known you were in the middle of it, I wouldn’t have interrupted.”

“Actually—” Jeonghan started, winking at you playfully as he climbed off the bed and opened the drawer, “—I was just telling her that if she wants to cum, she has to earn it. And since you were late, you will have to pay for it.”

Joshua raised his eyebrows, halfway through undoing his grommet belt. “Oh,” he uttered, his eyes glinting with understanding. “I think I know where this is going.”

Jeonghan fished out something that wasn’t a toy—not exactly. It was a pair of boyshort panties, but these were specifically to hold a dildo. A harness.

Your mouth fell open.

But before you could even ask, Jeonghan simply went on, “Remember you said you would like to try it?” he asked Joshua, tilting his head to one side curiously. “Is that still on the table?”

Joshua averted his gaze to the floor, pretending to fold his plaid shirt. “Only if Bunny is still up for it,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

It became hard to read whether Joshua really wanted it or not. But as you studied his movements with your gaze, your heart fluttered. He was shy about it, but only because he really wanted it.

Jeonghan turned to you, a questioning look in his eyes.

There was nothing Jeonghan would dare to do without your consent or Joshua’s. He knew well that Joshua wanted this, so in reality, it was only your say he was waiting on.

But with one look, it became clear to him that you also wanted it. He blinked, and his gaze softened.

“Come here,” Jeonghan ordered, his demeanor instantly changing into one you adored. It was a commanding aura, gentle but firm.

You climbed down the bed, approaching him quietly until you stood in front of him.

“Put these on,” he said, handing you the black boyshort panties. And then he turned to Joshua, motioning with his head. “Get ready.”

Joshua had a playful smirk on his face, but the evident shyness was still painting his ears red. But he still followed Jeonghan’s instruction, heading to the bathroom to prep.

You finished putting on the boyshort panties, and Jeonghan wasted no time, grabbing you by the neck with one hand to crush his lips against yours, giving you a hot kiss. “Do you remember how to do this, baby?” he asked you, and just by the way he breathed, you could tell he was excited.

“I uh—” you looked down at your hips. The boyshort panties were designed to place a dildo right where your mound is, except that Jeonghan hadn’t chosen the dildo yet. “The toy we used was different from this one,” you pointed nervously.

Jeonghan giggled giddily. “Yes, it was,” he said, sliding his hand down from your neck to graze his fingers against the waistband of your panties. “I think this’ll be more comfortable.”

“Hopefully Josh likes it as much as you did that time,” you added meekly, sneaking a glance at his face.

Jeonghan grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer to the point you felt his black polo shirt against your chest, making your nipples harden. You raised your face to meet his sparkling eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. He will, I know it,” he told you confidently.

You flicked one eyebrow up. “Because you liked it?” you asked meaningfully.

He rolled his eyes, showing you a cheeky smile. “Yeah. But also because you were amazing,” he said with a light chuckle. “And because it feels amazing.”

You shuddered with the memory of it. When you pegged Jeonghan the first time, he was rendered a complete mess—moaning raunchily and babbling nonsense, cumming all over himself like he hadn’t ever before.

And then, he probably knew what you were thinking because he blinked slowly at you, throwing you an endearing look. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

At that, you felt yourself smile. “Okay,” you mumbled right before Jeonghan dipped his head to kiss you softly, almost ghostly.

“Just relax,” he told you in a mere whisper, his voice almost waning in desire.

The sound of Joshua returning to the bedroom made you turn, but not completely, so you still had a chance to look at Jeonghan’s face, the way his eyes seemed to widen slightly at the sight of Joshua.

Joshua was finishing taking his watch off, leaving it on his nightstand. He had kept his clothes on, probably to leave that part for you. Jeonghan immediately slipped into his role, motioning to the bed with one sharp nod of his head. “Take his clothes off,” he told you, patting your side lightly.

Your heart stuttered slightly with excitement at the commanding tone he used with you. But you fell into step behind Joshua, grabbing his hand and turning him towards you. As you met his gaze, the fluttering feeling inside your body intensified so hard that it had you shuddering.

“Hi, handsome,” you said, trying your best to sound sultry.

Joshua smirked softly, catching your act in a second. But he brought two fingers to your chin, pinching it softly. “Hi, beautiful,” he said, his big dark eyes reading you. “Are you ready?”

You laughed lightly. “Shouldn’t I be asking that question to you?” you said pointedly.

He gave you a half shrug. “Why can’t it go both ways?” he asked, raising his eyes to Jeonghan, who was standing right behind you. “Are you just going to watch?”

“I’ll tell Princess what to do,” you turned over your shoulder to see the smirk plastered on his stupidly handsome face. “I’m improvising.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Figured,” he mumbled.

“Enough talking,” Jeonghan said, patting your ass again with his hand.

“Okay,” you sighed nervously. Your hands found the hem of Joshua’s black wife-pleaser, slipping them beneath to feel the hard muscle of his abdomen, his warm skin. At the same time, you pushed yourself to your tiptoes, touching his lips with your own tauntingly.

Joshua’s eyelids fluttered closed at your touch, but he still responded to your light kiss, pressing his lips against yours slowly. A ghostly laugh escaped through his lips when you slid your palms up the sides of his torso, fingertips grazing his lats while hiking his wife-pleaser up.

“Relax,” you mumbled into his lips, surprised that your voice sounded like a purr. “I got you,” you told him, more confident now.

“I know, baby,” he responded, his voice also gruff, low. “I just like you very much.”

You could feel Jeonghan standing behind you, watching you undress Joshua slowly, enjoying every step of the process. You removed his wife-pleaser completely, revealing his hard chest, his strong shoulders.

“I like you very much too,” you said, tilting your head to one side to let your gaze wander down his body.

Joshua swallowed hard, his gaze flitting from you to Jeonghan. “All yours,” he whispered.

You showed him a tiny smirk. “I know, baby. All mine,” you said.

Jeonghan’s hand came down firmly on your glute now, and if it weren’t for the boyshort panties you wore, it would’ve stung more. “Get on with it,” he ordered you.

You yelped from both the surprise and the hard pain shooting across your skin. But it got you excited all the same. “Sorry,” you said with a playful giggle. “Got carried away.”

Both men smiled at the sound of your laugh. You heard Jeonghan’s sigh at the same time Joshua showed you an endearing smile.

You took his washed-down jeans off, heartbeat fluttering wildly as you revealed more of his body. He’d been working out more, and the results were crazy fast. His muscles flexed with every movement he made, even when he stepped out of his pants. You gnawed at your bottom lip, reaching out to graze your fingertips on the faint lines of his abdomen, stopping at the band of his boxers, waiting for instruction.

“Go on,” Jeonghan mumbled, his voice fading. He was clearly enjoying this too.

And by the look on Joshua’s face, he did too. He liked being watched. He had always liked it. He loved being admired, and to have the two people he loved the most looking at him like this made him grow hard. So when you pinched the waistband, pushing his boxers down, you weren’t surprised to see his hardened cock.

You sighed out when your hands finally touched him, but this was fleeting. As you reached out to grab him, you were beginning to pump him languidly, enjoying the way he looked at you with lust-lidded eyes.

And then another spank came.

“Get him on the bed, baby,” Jeonghan told you.

“Come on,” you told Joshua, pushing him with your hands on his chest. Joshua sat on the bed, crawling backwards until he could lie his head on the pillows, his dark eyes never leaving you.

You sneaked a look at Jeonghan, who was removing his own polo shirt with one efficient move. “Get him ready for you,” he said meaningfully. “Remember how?”

You nodded, licking your bottom lip before biting down on it.

That time you did this with Jeonghan, it started with playful banter and kisses that turned into sloppy make-out sessions. But you knew this time was different; you had the experience already, but this time you were doing it as a full-blown polycule.

Your gaze left Jeonghan just as he was sitting down on the bed right next to Joshua, his eyes on you while you straddled Joshua. Jeonghan had gotten rid of the rest of his clothes when you weren’t looking. And he’d brought with him a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs, a pink dildo, and the bottle of lube.

You swallowed hard, excitement making your heart flutter.

Joshua’s gaze wandered from your face to the fuzzy handcuffs, his mouth parting softly as a questioning look took over the features of his face.

You slipped a hand beneath his chin, moving his face towards you. “Eyes on me, baby,” you told him sulkily, but your tone was velvety and honeyed at the same time. Joshua gave you a very light smirk, clearly enjoying the soft, dominant side of you. His pierced eyebrow quirked up, but he obeyed you without any quippy remarks.

And it had your heart pumping hard and fast against your ribcage. More than the arousal, it was the eagerness to make him feel good. So you started attempting to achieve just that, bending over, and planting the tenderest kiss against his plump and wet lips.

“Are you going to behave?” you asked him, mirroring the things he told you whenever you sub for him. Your tone was low and soft. It sounded enticing. But it was the darkened look you threw at him quite effortlessly.

“Depends,” he said, his entire demeanour waning at the sight of your confidence.

You showed him a smirk. “Keep your focus on me,” you said, the words landing firmly despite them being coated with honey.

“Or what?” he breathed, eyelids fluttering wildly when you sat back, pressing your crotch against his growing erection.

You grabbed his hands, placing them on your thighs, indicating to him where you needed him to touch you. “Or I’ll get nasty,” you told him.

Joshua let out a low cackle, his body vibrating below yours. “Tempting,” he said, sneaking another look at Jeonghan. “Don’t you think?”

Jeonghan pressed his lips into the tiniest of smirks. He couldn’t hide his own enjoyment in his glinting eyes either, looking at you and then at Joshua. “Can’t say it isn’t,” he said, then nodded at you. “Keep going, princess.”

You suddenly became too conscious of your own body. The excitement pulsing in your veins, making your skin prickle and hot. The way your limbs moved, graceful but at the same time, you felt in a rush of emotions, making your fingertips twitch and tremble as you ran your hands on Joshua’s torso from his abdomen to his chest.

You bent over again, kissing his lips one more time. “Be good, yeah?” you breathed.

“I’ll be good,” Joshua replied in kind.

You left a kiss on the corner of his lips, feeling his hands explore your body while you kissed his neck, his collarbones. You adored his body, kissing every inch of his skin to show him how badly you wanted him to feel good. And when you reached his chest, he instantly tensed, his hands slipping to grab your thighs, clenching them softly.

Joshua sucked in a breath through his teeth, the hissing sound cutting through the air. “Fuck,” he whispered as you palmed his bulging pecs, brushing one of his nipples with the pad of your thumb while you grazed the other with your teeth, ever so lightly.

“Mmn,” you hummed softly, enjoying his reaction. Now, emboldened, you closed your thumb and pointer fingers around his nipple, pinching it softly as you licked the other.

The grip his hands had on your thighs tightened, but without hurting. You caught sight of the skin on his arms prickling at the sensation of your tongue on his nipple, so you repeated the same motion on the other.

“That feels good,” he sighed blissfully.

His eyes were closed, his red, plump lips were parted, the lower hanging almost in a silly-looking way. Then, as you bent over to run the tip of your wet tongue around his nipple, his eyebrows began knitting. And you wanted to get more of that look.

Slowly, you covered his skin with loving kisses, trailing down to his navel. The tips of your fingers outlined the soft hairs of his happy trail, from below his belly button until you reached his pubic hair, teasing him a little with the lightest of touches.

You sneaked a glance at his face. Joshua swallowed hard when your gaze met his, his hand finding your cheek to cup it with careful fingers. He watched as you grabbed his hard cock with one hand, angling it so you could kiss the tip without tearing your gaze away from his.

Then, testing him, you licked the bulbous head of his cock, which was flushed and oozing precum. Joshua was already tense, so he could only let out a quiet moan as he watched you swirling your tongue around his cockhead. “Fuck,” he gritted, closing his eyes. You were wrapping your lips around him, and then you started blowing him off.

“God, baby. You’re so good at this,” Jeonghan praised, watching you bob your head up and down on Joshua’s cock.

“Fuck, yes she is,” Joshua gasped, his tone strangled as you hollowed out your cheeks, making obscene noises with your mouth wrapped around his cock.

His fist closed around your hair, fingers coiling tightly around your strands of hair and making you whine in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Behave,” Jeonghan told Joshua, his tone stern and unquestionable.

You took his cock into your mouth again, gagging softly as his tip kissed your throat, but barely. He was so big that you couldn’t fit him into your mouth completely, so you began stroking him around the base.

“I’m trying,” Joshua gasped.

Jeonghan wasn’t pleased with that answer. A metallic and fuzzy material was slipped into the free hand, and you instantly knew what Jeonghan’s intention was. You grabbed the handcuffs, blindly finding the button that snapped them open, and waited.

One of Joshua’s hands was still firmly attached to your thigh. So it was easy to find his wrist and close one of the handcuffs around it, the metallic click bouncing off the walls.

You raised your head, taking his hand by the handcuff and placing it above his head. “Told you to be good,” you said, hovering on top of him.

Joshua blinked slowly at you, a faint smirk painting his face. “That was me being good,” he told you with a flick of his studded eyebrow. “And you know it.”

You nearly gasped at his words. “Give me your other hand,” you said, trying to exert control. But in reality, you were flustered. And dripping wet.

Joshua obediently offered you his other wrist as you hooked the chain of the handcuffs around the rails of the headboard. And when the other cuff closed around his wrist, you fell into a desperation.

You wanted to ditch the plans of just making him feel good. You wanted to feel good too.

But you pushed your own desires aside.

You positioned yourself between his legs, grabbing the bottle of lube that you had used beforehand. You lathered your fingers first, and then you started teasing him by grabbing his cockhead with your hand, pumping him languidly as your lubed fingers circled his hole.

Joshua sucked in a breath again, clenching his teeth tightly as he watched you play with his patience. “Babe,” he whispered shakily.

“Mmn?” you replied, almost primly.

“Hurry,” he whispered impatiently.

“Relax, let our Bunny do her thing,” Jeonghan said with a light giggle, outlining Joshua’s sharp jawline with two fingers, motioning Joshua’s face towards his. “You said you’d behave.”

You continued spreading lube around his hole before using one finger first, feeling his entire body react to it. “God, that feels good,” Joshua whispered, closing his eyes as you started working him open.

“Yeah, I know,” Jeonghan replied, giving him a slow, passionate kiss.

Joshua moaned into the kiss, his hands twitching uncontrollably in their cuffs as you pushed another finger inside him, scissoring him slowly. You knew Joshua was just as eager as you were because he pulled back from the kiss, giving you a look. “Please, baby, just do it,” he said with a high-pitched whine.

“You’re ready for me, Josh?” you asked slowly, still pushing your fingers inside him.

He nodded with sharp and rapid motions. And that was enough confirmation for Jeonghan, who sat up, grabbed the pink dildo from the bed and placed it in your boyshort panties. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, watching you stroke the dildo up and down, lubing it completely.

And then you scooted your hips closer to his ass, your thighs spread in position as you guided the pink tip of your dildo to his hole, notching it playfully at first. Joshua let out a sharp breath, but didn’t stop you. His eyes were locked on your face, blinking slowly as you started pushing in, and in…

“Fuck,” Jeonghan whispered at the sight.

“Oh, god,” Joshua gritted, sinking the back of his head on the pillow. He sighed deeply, screwing his eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck, baby,” he drawled as you pushed in your toy in and out of him shallowly, testing him.

“Slowly, Princess,” Jeonghan said beside you, his eyes trained on the pink dildo disappearing inside Joshua.

You felt clumsy at first, thrusting the dildo by moving your hips with slow, tiny motions. But as you rolled your hips on him, you caught a rhythm you could keep without tiring out quickly. And it had Joshua moaning out raunchily, clenching around the toy and forcing his wrists against the cuffs.

“Deeper,” Joshua sighed, blinking repeatedly. “Please go deeper, baby,” he pleaded with a raspy tone.

You looked at Jeonghan, asking for permission. He nodded at you, and then you pushed your hips flushed against Joshua’s, slipping your hand on the back of his thigh to angle him for your deep thrusts.

“Good girl,” Jeonghan said beside you.

Joshua gasped, his body arching off the mattress as he moaned. “Fuck, that feels good,” he said. “Don’t stop,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. “Please, please.”

“Make him cum, baby,” Jeonghan told you, his eyes shining with both awe and adoration for you and Joshua.

And you imagined what you would look like from Joshua’s point of view. Your cheeks were flushed, sweat covering your forehead, but just barely. Joshua couldn’t keep his eyes away from your face as you mirrored his expression of pleasure. His eyes dipped to your chest, to your tits every time they bounced as your thrusts turned faster.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he gritted, his mouth dropping open as he gasped desperately.

Jeonghan acted fast, lying on his side to kiss Joshua. He wrapped his hand around Joshua’s hard cock, and started stroking fast around its head, just as ropes of white cum started spurting, and just continued leaking, landing all over Joshua’s abdomen, chest and the back of Jeonghan’s hand.

Joshua was breathing hard as Jeonghan pulled back after leaving a soft kiss on Joshua’s bottom lip. “Baby, stop,” Jeonghan told you.

“No—keep going,” Joshua pleaded, his eyes teary in pleasure.

Your hips stuttered, but Jeonghan nodded at you, pushing you to continue thrusting. You planted your hands on Joshua’s hips—just like he does it when he fucks you, and just continued fucking him, deep and fast.

“You’re going to cum again?” Jeonghan asked, not hiding the awe in his tone.

Joshua’s hands balled into fists, a gasp leaving him as he just nodded, his gaze wandering back to you. You were beginning to grow tired, but you didn’t relent. Changing the position of your body, you leaned forward slightly, putting the work on your knees and thus bringing down your hips on Joshua slightly harder.

“Fuck!” Joshua gasped. “Right there, baby,” he whined raunchily.

And then something out of the ordinary for you happened. Because Joshua began letting out a series of lewd sounds, gasps and moans, his cock twitching in the same way it does every time he cums. Joshua was having an orgasm—one that was very evident by the way the air left him, in the way his body was taut and beginning to tremble. 

Joshua blinked slowly, opening his eyes as he went lax and looked around curiously. You slowed down, stopping only when Jeonghan gave you a tight nod with his head.

“What happened?” you asked, your tone rising in slight worry.

Jeonghan smirked just as Joshua lifted his head, looking down at his body. “Shuji had a dry orgasm.”

Joshua sighed, a lazy smile spreading on his lips right before he let his head fall back onto the pillow, giggling slowly. “I didn’t even notice,” he said.

“Was that a first?” you asked, tilting your head to one side.

He nodded, licking his lips. “Felt like a normal orgasm,” he shrugged.

“Are you good?” you continued.

“Yeah, baby,” he said, sighing once more. “Wonderful.”

You looked at Jeonghan again, looking for more instruction. “Take that off,” he told you, motioning to the boyshort panties as he grabbed one towel he had prepared beforehand and started cleaning Joshua’s abdomen. “You did well,” Jeonghan muttered, looking at Joshua’s face dreamily.

You climbed off the bed, discarding the panties and the dildo altogether.

“That was amazing,” Joshua said, following Jeonghan’s gaze as they locked eyes briefly.

But their moment was cut short. You crawled on top of Jeonghan, pushing him down with your hands planted firmly on his chest. He sat back against the headboard, gasping softly as you straddled him and, without any foreplay, any warning, you sank on his cock.

“God,” Jeonghan bit back a moan, both men looking at you now.

You let out a blissful sigh as you bottomed out on him, his hands grabbing your hips to guide you through it, knowing you were tired. But you rolled your hips on his cock as though your life depended on it. Sweet, sweet pleasure was building back inside your body, sizzling beneath your skin as both of your partners held witness to you being so horny that you couldn’t even speak.

Jeonghan’s hands clutched your hips tighter, swallowing a moan. “Fuck, baby,” he said in pure awe. “You’re so wet. Did you like fucking Joshua?” he said, a smirk spreading on his beautiful lips,

“Mmm-huh,” you nodded, letting out a whiny moan as you grinded your hips down on Jeonghan, feeling his cock reach in so deep that your eyes started to water.

Jeonghan moaned with you, blinking slowly as his own pleasure started to build up. He turned to Joshua, nodding at him meaningfully. And once again, you were too slow or too unaware of their silent communication that you didn’t know what was going on before it happened.

Joshua nodded back, pressing the button of the handcuffs with the pad of his thumb. The handcuffs sprang open, letting him free in an instant. And your dominance was gone with it, too, as you watched Joshua push himself on his knees and right behind you. With one effortless move, he snatched you up from Jeonghan’s body, bending you over for him and slipping his hard dick inside you, all in one go.

“Joshua—!” you gasped, instantly subdued to the merciless snapping of Joshua’s hips against your ass.

You placed your hands on the headboard, bent over Jeonghan as he watched your face, your body, your pretty tits bouncing against his face as Joshua fucked you hard and fast. Jeonghan cupped your tits, softly palming them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling obscenely loud.

“Fuck,” you gasped lewdly. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said.

“Let go,” Joshua husked in your ear, his arms still firmly wrapping your body as he pushed himself in and out of your cunt. “Cum for me,” he said.

Your eyes searched Jeonghan’s face as he pulled back, giving you a tiny nod. “Cum on his cock, baby.”

The tight coil inside you finally snapped, making you wail out in pure pleasure. Your eyes rolled back right before your eyelids fluttered closed, letting go of the tears gathering in the corners. Your hands held onto Joshua’s forearms, your fingernails sinking deeply into his skin as you cummed like you haven’t in a while.

“Fuck, you’re making a mess, baby,” Jeonghan sighed, getting all the view of your cum dripping out of your pussy.

Joshua let out a deep moan that reverberated on his chest, vibrating against your back. He pressed his forehead against your nape, his deep thrusts slowing down and now using his arms to sink you back down on his cock, fucking his cum deep into you. “God,” he gritted against your skin, pressing a tiny kiss. “Feel so good.”

And then you thought he would let you go. But instead, he sat you back down on Jeonghan, making you gasp as his cock slipped inside, pushing Joshua’s cum and yours back inside your pussy.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan whispered, moving his hips sloppily at first, trying to fuck his cock into you.

You followed the motion of his hips, moaning at the sight of Jeonghan’s face riddled with pleasure. It gave you another rush of energy, making you plant your hands firmly on Jeonghan’s chest, angling yourself forward right before you started rolling your hips faster.

Jeonghan’s mouth fell open. “Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he drawled lazily, looking at you as you fucked him hard and fast. “That’s it,” he added in a mere whisper.

Joshua slumped down on the bed beside Jeonghan. And now you had them both looking at you, both men completely and utterly lost in you, in your face, in the way you were moving your body.

“Baby, keep going,” Jeonghan said, his tone rising but still gruff. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” he said, and then let out a deep moan. “Fuck, oh fuck—” he gasped, mouth parted as his eyes locked with yours.

A wave of pleasure washed all over you, making your skin prickle. And it pushed you to take your fingers to your mound, stroking your clit with fast swirls. Your entire body shook when Jeonghan’s hands clenched your hips tightly, fingernails digging into your skin. The sudden flash of pain had you tipping over the edge.

“Jeonghan—” you gasped, right before your second orgasm took over you, hot waves of pleasure consuming you quickly. The thought of having both of your partners sharing you like that—cumming inside you—it drove you crazy.

You stopped after a couple of seconds, breathing hard, languid with pleasure and exertion to the point that you felt ready to pass out.

Jeonghan read you well. He grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you towards him. You simply lay your head on his shoulder, facing Joshua, who was lying still, or equally as tired as you were.

“That was… intense,” you said.

Joshua smiled. “That’s one way to put it,” he said.

“That was amazing,” Jeonghan said with a big sigh, pressing his lips against your shoulder. “You were amazing, baby.”

“I agree,” Joshua said, grabbing your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“Yeah?” you asked, “Did you like it, Josh?”

“I loved it,” he said, blinking slower and slower.

Aftercare happened like it usually did. You showered, checked if your body needed water or food, and got ready for bed. You tidied the bedroom first, cleaning all of your toys from the bed, along with the evidence of the activity you had with your boyfriends.

You were the first one to lie on the bed. You waited patiently, looking at your boyfriends prepare their things for their next day at work respectively. Jeonghan joined you first, and Joshua was last.

“You’re okay, Bunny?” Joshua asked curiously as he lay on his side.

“Yeah, why?” you frowned.

Joshua’s gaze flitted to Jeonghan in a dash. It was a fleeting glance, but you noticed. “You’re quiet,” he said. “More than usual.”

“I’m tired,” you said. But once again, your tone landed weakly.

“Is there something you want to talk about, baby?” Jeonghan asked, his tone rising slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat. There was so much that you wanted to share. All your concerns, all of your anxieties, gone with one breath. You gaped at Jeonghan briefly, right before tearing your gaze away from his face, directing it to the ceiling.

“I want us to spend more time together.”

The room stilled at your confession. Joshua didn’t move, his gaze fixated on your face, as Jeonghan turned on the bed, now mirroring Joshua.

“What do you mean?” Joshua asked softly, slowly.

“Yeah, you’re barely here,” you said, still avoiding eye contact. You started to fidget with your fingers, twisting around the sheets. “I want us to do more things together—I don’t know. I miss us.”

Your tone fell at the last word uttered. And you felt your words reaching them, even if they said nothing at first.

“Well, what do you want to do, Princess?” Jeonghan asked.

At that, you dared to look up. Jeonghan was calm, but as you locked eyes with him, he immediately started to read the features of your face. But you still went on, determined to let your thoughts out. “I know that it’s… a bit complicated for us three to go out on dates in public.”

“But you’ve thought of something,” he caught on.

You nodded. “Remember that I told you I wanted to go camping?” you asked Jeonghan.

He blinked and then nodded.

“I found the perfect place,” you said, heartbeat going so fast inside your chest that it made your tone quiver. You reached for your phone under your pillow and then quickly pulled out the photos of a camping site you found online. “Maybe we could rent a cabin. Or get a tent, I don’t know. But I would like to go here.”

You showed them the pictures, Jeonghan took the phone from your hand, swiping a finger on the screen to read more about the place. Its location, the details, and prices. Your heart fluttered in excitement.

“It’s a nice place. Off the grid. Might work,” Jeonghan said, locking your phone and leaving it on the nightstand.

You turned to Joshua, and without him even uttering a word, you knew what his answer would be. And your heart deflated completely.

“Baby, I think it’s a nice idea. And I would love to do it someday soon but,” he breathed in deeply, bracing himself to see the disappointment in your face. “I can’t have breaks right now. Not when we’re getting ready for the second leg of the tour and recording music.”

You lowered your gaze, nodding dejectedly. “I get it,” you whispered, trying hard not to choke up.

Joshua pinched your chin, commanding your gaze back to his face. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have dates, you know?” he said, offering you a hopeful smile.

“Like what?” you replied, swallowing hard.

“Maybe we could do a movie night. Or we could play board games again. Or dinner with wine, I don’t know,” he said, shrugging lightly.

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffling softly. “Can we do all of that soon?” you asked. 

Joshua blinked, his brow furrowing. “Yeah. Of course, baby,” he said.

“Tomorrow?” you asked, your tone tiny.

Jeonghan chuckled. “I have a rehearsal. Let’s do it this Wednesday.”

“In three days?” you asked, looking down at the bedcovers. “Okay.”

There was an exchange of looks between Jeonghan and Joshua. You could sense it in the way the air emptied, in the way there was a tension tightening in the room, but there was nothing voiced out loud.

“Is there something else you want to tell us, baby?” Jeonghan asked in a tone that was low, but sweet. Cautious.

You shook your head on your pillow.

And something hung in the air, deflating your heart with remorse. Something telling you that if you didn’t speak up now, you’d pay for it later. You’d been through this before, and somehow, you just didn’t learn.

Because you never learn. Not until it was too late.

Days went by, and you became more and more convinced that something was wrong. Like maybe you had moved into the wrong place, maybe you had jumped into something too fast, too soon. Now, you were entirely alone in a place that felt like a palace—of shiny floors that almost showed your reflection, cold spaces that felt too empty that you could hear your own echo.

You were alone.

Joshua was out recording music for his next album.

Jeonghan was caught up in long hours of filming.

You balled your hands into fists, trying to swallow your incoming tears. You desperately craved for either one of them to get back to you, to notice that you were in dire need of attention. Oh, because you recognized that you were just mad because both Jeonghan and Joshua had forgotten about the movie night.

They forgot, you thought with a stabbing pain in your gut. They forgot about your plans to spend the night together. It was insulting, really. You had worked really hard to get this afternoon free to spend it with them… and they simply had different plans that would consume the rest of their day and would give no second thought to your efforts.

You stared at your phone screen. The chat you shared with them called Home sat vacant. You hesitated before typing,

Did you guys forget about tonight?

I thought we had agreed to have a date tonight. 

No answer.

I’m done.

With a frenzied feeling reeling inside you, you pushed yourself to your feet from the couch and made your way to your bedroom. There were big tears in the corners of your eyes as you pulled out your duffel bag and emptied it out on the walk-in closet floor. You grabbed your essentials, sleepwear, two changes of clothes and toiletries.

That sane part of you was begging to pull the brakes. Begging you to think this through before you do something really stupid. But that part was growing smaller as the seconds went by, and you felt freer from the shackles of that stupid pain stuck deep inside of you like a thorn.

You were convinced now that you were doing this for yourself. After changing your clothes, you went to your studio to pack your laptop—and then something stopped you.

The photo on your desk, showing both Jeonghan and Joshua smiling with you, caused you to rethink for a split second. With a short sigh, you grabbed a sheet of paper, splitting it in two and wrote two different messages, leaving each on its respective side of the bed.

Your heart thumped in your chest loudly as you made your way down to the elevator, duffel bag on one shoulder, laptop bag on the other. But you didn’t stop, and you didn’t look back.

And then, you left.

Jeonghan felt his pulse strumming on the base of his throat.

As soon as he got the chance to get a moment by himself, he pulled out his phone. It had been vibrating incessantly for a few minutes and then just stopped. He’d thought it would be just usual business in the group chat he shared with you and Joshua, maybe you’d sent something funny, or maybe not that funny and Joshua was teasing you for it.

But as Jeonghan scrolled through his messages, his heart dropped to his stomach.

At the top of his screen, Joshua’s name and phone number appeared. Jeonghan hurriedly pressed the green button, accepting the call.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jeonghan asked calmly, but his gut feeling was telling him to run.

“I was going to ask the same thing to you,” Joshua said, and by the sound of it, Jeonghan could tell that he was still busy in the recording studio.

“Did we miss the movie night?” Jeonghan raised his wrist in front of him, bringing his smart watch to life. It was Tuesday. He frowned.

“I thought that was happening tomorrow,” Joshua said, also responding to what would’ve been Jeonghan’s next question. “She’s not answering my texts, and she’s not picking up the phone.”

Jeonghan sighed heavily and started to walk towards the parking lot where he’d left his car. “I’m heading back home. You keep trying her phone, okay?”

“Yeah, I will…” Joshua replied, disheartened. “Maybe we just didn’t make sure when we agreed to do it.”

Jeonghan blinked, car keys ready in his hand as he stood in front of his car. “But we didn’t,” he frowned. “Or did we?”

“I don’t know. We could’ve,” Joshua replied, and just by the tone of his voice, Jeonghan could picture the expression on his boyfriend’s face perfectly. The worried look, the slightly knitted brows. “But that doesn’t matter now. Not when she thinks we haven’t really been present with her. And that we’re not making time for her, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m all too familiar with how that goes,” Jeonghan replied shortly, getting into his car and turning the engine on. “I’m heading back home. I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Sure. I’ll try to break free from here soon too. Bye,” Joshua said, hanging up right after.

At that moment, Jeonghan could hear the slight tinge of worry in Joshua’s voice. He knew then that the panic inside him was not misplaced, not entirely.

As he drove there, he kept dialling you through his car’s dashboard, getting more and more anxious each time you rejected his calls. He kept thinking of what to say now that might compensate for this big fuck up—even if it wasn’t truly a fuck up and you got the dates mixed up. There wouldn’t be an easy way to sort this one out, not at first.

“Come on, baby. Just pick up,” Jeonghan whispered to himself.

The elevator ride was excruciatingly slow. It had him tapping his fingertips against the rail outlining the metal box, sighing at each time he felt like his lungs were about to burst.

Jeonghan hated conflict. He hated facing someone he cared about and potentially saying hurtful things to each other, even if those things weren’t necessarily insulting.

He pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Joshua, texting: I just got home. Where are you?

The elevator doors parted as he pocketed his phone, making his way into the apartment. He felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his jeans, but Jeonghan didn’t have the headspace to pay attention to that—because when he opened the door, his heart instantly deflated.

“Baby?” he called tenderly as he pushed himself through the apartment, finding the living room decorated in a movie night theme.

There was a bowl with popcorn on the coffee table, three clean wine cups and a bottle of red wine were lined neatly around the bowl. You had set the coffee table with your favorite snacks and had also left your favorite board games at hand in case the movie wasn’t entertaining enough.

Jeonghan’s heart squeezed as he looked at the living room and everything you had done for the date. You had readied everything for the perfect date, but not only that—with so little, you showed just how much you had missed hanging out with Joshua and Jeonghan. The details, the preparations—you were excited.  

You missed the homeliness of it. You were eager to have that again with them.

“Bunny?” Jeonghan called your name, louder this time. He made for the bedroom with a hurried step now. “Baby, we’re sorry, we thought—”

He came to a stop.

Your clothes were scattered on the floor, trailing to the walk-in closet, where Jeonghan found more items that belonged to you. The side of the closet that was for your stuff was messy, as though picked apart in a hurry.

Jeonghan’s pulse began to race. His mind was split apart, but somehow he still had the lucidity to think sharply, even though part of it was beginning to reel anxiously. He ran to your studio, knowing now that he wouldn’t find you there—but he would find a definitive answer instead.

Your laptop was gone from the desk.

At that, Jeonghan stopped completely, knowing there was nothing else to be done here.

He returned to the bedroom, feeling lost. His heart was still beating frantically, vibrating through his whole body to the point he felt like he was on the verge of puking.  

However, this time he saw something that he had missed at first. There was a sheet of paper neatly placed beneath his pillow, and an identical one beneath Joshua’s as well. He went around the bed and grabbed his, opening it with trembling fingers.

I left to get some time and space for myself. I’ll be sitting by the lake, looking at the stars.     I love you.

Jeonghan read the brief note written in your handwriting over and over again, walking aimlessly until he stumbled upon the couch. There was so little information on the note, but with that, you were letting him know where you had gone. And Jeonghan knew perfectly well that you wanted to be left alone.  

This fuck up, as Jeonghan had called it, had struck a nerve for you.

But his attention was robbed at the sound of the front door clicking. He raised his head, trying to compose himself as best as he could as Joshua made his way to the living room, taking his jacket off.

“Hey,” Joshua sighed, his face still contorted in a frown. “How bad is it?” he asked, blissfully aloof to the graveness of the situation.

Jeonghan’s shoulders went slack as his entire body went heavy with anxiousness. He breathed in, preparing himself for it. “Joshua—”

“What?” Joshua asked, his face melting into worry.

“She’s not here,” Jeonghan said, folding your note with his fingers. Anxiety built up swiftly, coiling around his throat. He gulped hard. “She packed a bag. Left a note. There’s one for you too.”

Joshua’s mouth parted softly as acknowledgement sank within him. And then he shuddered hard. “She left?” he asked dejectedly, his eyes widening as he hurried to the bedroom.

Jeonghan made no move to follow him and waited, hands holding your note still as he looked around the living room.

The space was so large that even Jeonghan felt small in the white, tall walls of it. And his poor heart was crushed over the thought of you waiting for him and Joshua to come through that door—only to find out that once again, you had been ignored and work was more important.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan sighed, taking his hand to his face and rubbing it hard, trying to ease the pain in his chest.

Joshua came back to the living room, his entire demeanor darkened with misery all over. He was pressing the phone to his ear, but then locked it and threw it somewhere on the couch again. “She took her laptop too,” Joshua said, as though that were the damning evidence of your punishing departure.

A pause.

The room stilled in cold, dead silence. The emptiness permeated the walls of the living room, and somehow, this place felt strange to Jeonghan now that he had your absence to ponder over.

“What do we do now?”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly. “We do nothing,” he said, his tone flat.

Joshua paused, deadpanning to Jeonghan. “Nothing—what do you mean nothing?” he gasped.

Jeonghan made a motion to Joshua’s note that was still neatly folded in half. “What does yours say?”

Joshua unfolded the sheet of paper and handed it to Jeonghan without a word. This note was a bit lengthier, and Jeonghan suspected why.

I’ll come back as soon as I clear my head. I really need this for myself, so please don’t come find me. I’ll be at the camping site I told you about. Please try not to worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll be safe. I will come back. I love you.

“So what, we just sit and wait? Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Joshua asked with an anxious edge to his tone. He grabbed onto the end of the headrest of the sofa as he tried to bring himself to a calmer state.

Jeonghan raised both notes in his hands. “This is what she’s asking, Joshua,” he said. “We should at least give her that, don’t you think?”

“But she left because she feels lonely. I get that she doesn’t want us to worry about her, but I don’t want her to think that we’re okay with this—” Joshua gritted. Straightening back again, he started for the door and then turned back around immediately. “At least I’m not okay with this.”

“I’m not happy with this either, but if this is what she needs right now, then I think we should let her have it,” Jeonghan argued, trying to keep himself put together, but in reality, he was brimming with panic too.

Joshua let out a heavy sigh. And with great reluctance, he shook his head and started pacing back and forth in the living room.

“Besides, there is nothing we can do,” Jeonghan added, trying to make Joshua see reason. But part of him felt that he was saying these things for himself as well. “She’s not picking up the phone or replying to any of our texts. We could go to the camping site and look for her, but—”

“She asked us not to,” Joshua finished the sentence with slight disappointment. “Yeah, I know.”

“We messed up, Shuji.”

At that, Joshua turned around. His face was contorted in pain, anger and distress. “You don’t think I know that?” he asked, nostrils flaring angrily. The frown made his eyes look darker, and the corners of his mouth were slightly downturned. “I thought we were past this, I thought—”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly. “This is different,” he asserted, motioning to the notes with a light move of his hands. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua let out a big sigh that denoted his full frustration. He hated this, Jeonghan knew. “Of course it’s not right—she’s fucking gone,” Joshua hissed, turning away and walking towards the bedroom, hands cupping his nape, pulling his own hair.

Jeonghan stared at the two pieces of paper in his hands for a second before diverting his gaze out of the window. The sun had fallen, so now the city lights were at full view against the dark, moonless night. Jeonghan sat in the living room for a long while, contemplating the silence and letting your absence sink in.

This doesn’t feel right, Jeonghan thought, convinced that there was something more to the reason why you left. You tended to run away when things got hard, he knew that as well as Joshua. But you had reached your fill.

This was the result of days and nights feeling lonely and ignored, yes.

But something didn’t fit.

There had to be more to the reason why you left. And Jeonghan needed to find what it was.

In all your years of writing, you had made a little tradition for yourself. Whenever you turned in a final manuscript, you would book a trip somewhere. You would take your mind off things that pertained to work for a little while. Sometimes you would only go for an afternoon, sometimes you’d stay a night and then come back home.

However, this time was different.

You hadn’t turned in your final manuscript of your second book on time. And this was a first for you. And this being the first time, you felt awful. You wanted to blame all the external factors in your life for this—the stress, the writer’s block, the anonymity, your relationship…

But in truth, it was you the reason why the manuscript wasn’t ready. Your head was all over the place, and you recognized that. Your thoughts felt like a meteor shower, except that everything went in a different direction, crashing in the wildest ways imaginable.

You felt exhausted.

The trip had taken longer than you had anticipated. Getting out of the heart of the city at rush hour was the first mistake. You had to sit through hours of traffic dodging calls, planning what the next days would look like.

And your heart was not resting. Your mind was racing with the dozen things you needed to cover before you reached the cabins. Things like food, expenses, the trip back, and most importantly: what you were going to do when you got back.

You were leaving that last thing to the very end of your trip.

A big part of you knew that you had let your impulses win. You felt ignored, lonely.

You let out a sigh. The driver directed a look at you over the rear mirror, but didn’t make any inquisitive expression. And you didn’t make the effort to explain that you were exhaling out of the stress coiling around your heart, and not because of the long time it was taking you to get out of the city.

Your phone vibrated in your fist. And this time, you didn’t even check if it was Jeonghan or Joshua calling. You simply dodged the call by swiping your thumb over the screen.

One of the things that kept you from turning back was the fact that you knew what their apologies would sound like. And that fact also gave you a very odd sense of peace—as though knowing that you weren’t coming back home to a solution also prepared you to not feel disappointment.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, tears at the verge of spilling from your eyes. Your phone began vibrating again, and you swiped your thumb automatically; the name Josh kept appearing incessantly.

And you didn’t wonder more. You didn’t wonder whether they had arrived at the apartment yet, only to find that you weren’t there. You didn’t wonder if they had already found the notes you had written for each of them. And it wasn’t because you didn’t care, but because it even hurt to think.

When you arrived at the cabin you rented, you felt free. All the thoughts that were consuming you bit by bit seemed to ebb away once you lay down on the bed alone. Staring at the ceiling, you took in a big breath, trying to calm your weary heart.

You thought of telling them that you had arrived safely. But each blinking of your eyes took you further away from reality, and into a very deep sleep—the deepest and soundest sleep you had ever experienced in a long while.

Sleeping alone for the first time in what truly felt like ages led you to wake up feeling disoriented. Your heart constricted in your chest as you looked around your surroundings, finding nothing but the four wooden walls that were so different from your home. You breathed in the smell of dust and humidity, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

You searched on the bed, realizing at a slow step that you had slept in your regular clothes. And when you finally found your phone somewhere beneath the pillow, you turned it on, squeezing your eyes at the bright white light of the screen. You skimmed through an endless number of text messages from each of your boyfriends.

But you pressed the tip of your finger on the Home group chat. It sat empty from the last message you sent the night before. And it felt vexing that the next message after twelve hours read:

I arrived safely.

I’m fine.

It was the first time, maybe in months, that Jeonghan felt empty.

In these past few months, he’s been in a relationship with you, and he’s had ups and downs. In all fairness, it was a really complicated relationship from the start. From the moment he realized he was falling in love with you, he knew that his heart was destined to go through a lot of stress.

And what was to be expected, really? Falling in love with his best friend’s girlfriend was something damned to fail. But lucky for him, it worked out for him. And in that, he was now in the most complicated situation he’d ever been in. But also, the easiest.

Loving you was easy.

So much so that he didn’t find it in his heart to be mad that you left. In fact, he felt sad and disappointed in himself that he didn’t see this coming. Or maybe that he did and still didn’t make any attempts to stop you from leaving.

The first night you were gone broke his heart.

Joshua was lying on his side, hugging your pillow. He had done this instinctively, almost, as though he needed to feel something closer to him to fall asleep. There was no playing around as usual, no fighting to see who would get to cuddle you for the night.

He woke up alone. It made him feel empty.

Jeonghan turned over, reaching for his phone in the nightstand. And as he read his screen, his pulse quickened—you’d texted. It didn’t matter to him that you had done so in the group chat. It was something.

So he took a chance, pressing the call button. His eyes fixated on the ceiling as your phone rang once, twice…

You picked up the phone at the fifth ring.

“Baby?” Jeonghan called softly, heartbeat racing unbearably fast.

“Hi,” you replied quietly, shyly.

Jeonghan sighed, closing his eyes slowly. “How are you?” he asked and then waited for your answer.

You took some seconds to reply, which Jeonghan thought you were just thinking of your answer. “I’m fine,” you said, your voice creaking slightly.

He sat up on the bed. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, feeling his heart squeeze.

There was a pause. And Jeonghan hated that he couldn’t see your face, so that way he would know what you were truly thinking. Because he knew you weren’t fine, he could tell by your tone alone.

“Listen, I don’t have a lot of reception here. I just wanted to tell you both that I’m going to come back home in a few days,” you informed him, your voice quivering, but you kept yourself firm.

Jeonghan felt the air leave his lungs. “A few days?” he repeated dumbly. He shook his head slightly. “Baby, please come home. We can talk about this—”

“There’s a small café and convenience store near the camping site where I can charge my phone and get reception. I will visit twice a day, once in the morning, once before sunset,” you continued.

Jeonghan lifted his gaze to the doorway, where Joshua was appearing with a worried look on his face. Jeonghan closed his eyes slowly, bringing two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Baby, please just listen to me—”

“So if you really want to talk to me, be sure to clear out your agendas every day at eleven in the morning and six in the afternoon,” you said, sighing out in a sign of finality.

Jeonghan breathed out, knowing that he didn’t have any upper hand in this. He had no control over the situation. “Fine,” he gritted.

“Okay,” you whispered, surprised that he had conceded to your plan that easily. “Okay. I’ll go now.”

“Wait,” Jeonghan said, and when the line didn’t go dead, he continued. “I know you’re not really looking for apologies right now. But we’re truly sorry,” he said, opening his eyes to find Joshua’s face.

Joshua sat on the foot of the bed, as though his knees had given out. His eyebrows were knitting in worry, his big brown eyes boring into Jeonghan’s.

You said nothing.

“Please—” Jeonghan mumbled, his voice breaking when he couldn’t keep his nerves down. “—just come home, baby. You don’t need to do this. Please, just talk to us.”

“Maybe I do need to do this, Hannie,” you said, softer this time. “I’ll call again in a few hours, okay?”

“Fuck,” Joshua breathed in defeat.

“Okay,” Jeonghan replied to you, also knowing that it was futile to keep pleading. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”

“I love you,” you mumbled. And as though shy, you added in a lower tone: “I love you both.”

At that, Jeonghan understood that you knew Joshua was also listening to the conversation. He nodded. “We love you too,” he said.

And then you hung up.

Jeonghan sighed, throwing his phone aside with little care as to where it landed. “She’s coming back in a few days,” he informed Joshua. “Didn’t tell me when.”

Joshua shook his head slowly, his gaze lost somewhere on the floor. “You were right,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Jeonghan breathed in deeply in an attempt to get rid of the ugly feeling gnawing at his heart. “Yeah,” he whispered, bringing a hand to Joshua’s shoulder. He squeezed softly, thinking that if he couldn’t ease his pain, he’d try to give some peace to Joshua. “But she’ll come back.”

“I know,” Joshua said, nodding. He lifted his head, locking his gaze with Jeonghan. “I know,” he repeated, more reassuring this time.

The next morning was peaceful.

You woke up feeling released from an invisible weight. Like all of your worries were put on hold, and you were able to finally breathe.

You walked out of the cabin, the wet and cold air receiving you and making you hiss.

The camping site was beautiful, even more so than the pictures you had shown Jeonghan. Your heart squeezed. You had planned to come here with them both, and you would be enjoying this place with them. But now, with the sudden turn of events, you had to do it alone.

Your stomach was empty, but somehow your appetite was nonexistent. The thought of not being with your partners made your stomach feel uneasy, but you knew that you had to get something to eat soon.

The camp was beginning to take life. As you breathed in deeply and then exhaled, you started to feel weightless. You were really here. Alone. You had gone a long way from home.

You palmed your pockets, pulling out your phone. You had three hours to eat, drink coffee and perhaps take a look around.

You arrived at the small café right as a group of old ladies was coming out. They were all embroidered in heavy gossip, each carrying a paper bag and a cup of coffee. You knew that they were staying in the cabin right next to yours; you remember vaguely listening to their voices right as you were falling asleep.

They eyed you curiously as you crossed paths with them, probably wondering what you’d be doing all alone and so far away from anything at all. But you didn’t mind, you kept walking towards the small café, where you got a donut and a coffee. You plugged in your phone and laptop and got to work.

Being freed from all of the anxieties gripping you back in the city was truly the greatest medicine. As you opened your final draft, you found out that the words you were looking for were sitting at the tips of your fingers all along.

And you wrote, and wrote until the clock marked ten minutes to eleven in the morning. You were almost reluctant to stop, but you did, turning your computer off and putting it back in your knitted satchel. You were happy with your progress; you were one step closer to the finish line.

The air outside was still crisp, despite the sun blazing against the very green surroundings. Your teeth clattered slightly, but you pulled out your phone, gnawing at your bottom lip as you debated who to call. But you pressed your thumb against the call button and waited.

“Hi Bunny,” Joshua sighed, almost as though he’d been holding his breath, waiting for your call.

“Hi Josh,” you replied, closing your eyes as the feeling blooming inside you took over your senses with a powerful shudder. It was the sound of his voice, wrapping you like a warm blanket.

“You’re on speaker,” he informed you, and by his tone, you could tell that he wasn’t happy at all. “How are you?”

You knew that you were in deep trouble now. But you didn’t care. You didn’t find it in yourself to care. “I’m okay,” you replied nonchalantly, opening your eyes to fixate on a nicely shaped cloud in the sky.

There was a silence that stretched between you and the other end of the line. You could almost picture them, your boyfriends sitting around the phone, debating what to do, what to say now that you were gone.

“Bunny, we need to talk,” Joshua said.

You breathed in, trying to bring back that weightless feeling you had earlier. “Okay,” you said.

“Do you know when you’re coming back?” Joshua asked, enunciating each word slowly, cautiously.

“No,” you replied, lowering your gaze to your feet, where you kicked a rock with the tip of your boot. “I’m thinking that maybe I’ll come back after I finish my draft.”

You heard a sigh, and you initially imagined that it was Joshua who had done it. But then—

“So if it takes you a week to finish it…” Jeonghan said, his tone tight. And it was then that you knew that by leaving, you had probably caused some tension between Joshua and Jeonghan.

Your heart fell to your stomach.

“Then I’ll be back in a week,” you replied, remorse eating at you.

“Don’t you think that this is too much?” Joshua asked, and you heard Jeonghan mumble something under his breath. You weren’t able to make out what he said, but you knew he was trying to contain Joshua. “Baby, we get it—you’re mad at us, we fucked up. But nothing will get solved if you stay away—”

“Joshua,” Jeonghan cut in sternly.

Your heart deflated painfully. “And you think you’re solving things like this?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your feelings in check, something you were failing miserably at.

He stuttered for a beat. “No—I don’t know,” he confessed, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. “Please just come back. We can’t fix things if you’re away.”

You breathed out, building some courage to get yourself through this. “You made time for me just because I left, Josh. So we can say that leaving did fix something,” you said gently, almost in a motherly tone.

“Right—and we learned our lesson. Happy?” Joshua bit back resentfully.

“No, I’m not happy,” you said. “That’s the whole point!”

“All the more reason to come back and talk with us!” Joshua said, his tone ringing now with exasperation.

“You’re not talking, you’re just yelling!” you replied, your pulse quickening to the point it made you feel nauseous. “If you’re not really going to talk, then I’m hanging up the phone.”

“See? You’re doing this again. You’re running away!”

“Joshua—!” Jeonghan’s voice shot through your ear like a bullet.

Tears brimmed in your eyes before you could even process what you were feeling. Anger, pain, remorse. You sniffled loudly, squeezing your eyes harshly to try to stop the tears from flowing anymore. “I’ll call you later tonight, yes?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Joshua started.

“Wait—” Jeonghan cut in.

But you didn’t give them a chance to say anything else. You cut the line right as they were speaking, without even caring about how childish you were coming across. You hated this. The sticky feeling you always got whenever you had a confrontation.

Joshua was right. You were running away.

You made for the way back to the cabin, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel, the other your phone. The air in your lungs felt tight, and your stomach felt uneasy with anxiety. And as you fought with your feelings, your body started to lose the battle first.

Your steps stuttered, causing you to stumble against a tree, where you held up a hand to steady yourself. Your vision weakened, eyes tearing up, but now from something different. And it was then that anxiety won, pushing your body to a lamentable demise.

“Is something wrong, petal?” a voice called.

You barely had time to look up before you came face to face with one of the women you had seen earlier in the café. You shook your head slowly, your vision blurring just before you vomited your guts out at the roots of the tree that was propping you up.

In seconds, the group of ladies were coming to your aid. And you immediately felt bad, because you were sick due to a condition of your heart, and your own thoughts had betrayed you.

But there you were, vomiting all because you were once again too weak to face hardship.

Jeonghan threw his phone on the table quite heedlessly. “What the fuck, Joshua?”

Joshua was sitting down at the round table, head between his hands, bouncing a knee frenetically. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting back with a sigh.

“You didn’t need to say that,” Jeonghan said, rising from his seat and pacing around the dining table. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Joshua said, his gaze piercing a hole into the ceiling. “I lost it. I’m sorry.”

“You have to apologize to her next time. We need her back, Joshua,” Jeonghan said, trying to keep his anger in check.

“But she doesn’t want to come back, she doesn’t want us to go looking for her. What can we do?” Joshua said desperately. “Our hands are tied! We can’t do shit until she decides to come back—”

“She will come back,” Jeonghan repeated for the nth time, tiredly. “And we won’t get her back until she feels that it’s safe to do so. And you’re not helping by pointing out her wrongs.”

“I know,” Joshua said, shaking his head. “I just can’t be okay with this.”

“I get it, but right now we need to think clearly,” Jeonghan said, tension flitting across his face, but he forced himself back to composure. “Right now, we need to concede to her plan.”

The next days were more of the same. If anything, change only came with a decline of things.

The next days felt like living in a haunted house. You were gone, and it was as though everything that was holding them up was lost. While Joshua’s mood had gone off like a bomb from the moment you left, Jeonghan’s slowly withered.

And the longer they were stuck in this standstill, the more erratic they became.

The promise of your return was beginning to look more and more uncertain. Your calls were even shorter. You only called to check in, to tell them that you were alright.

Until one day, you didn’t call.

Joshua pushed the button of the lift, and then, with more desperation, he pressed it again and then sighed shakily. It was the fifth day you were gone, and Jeonghan didn’t want to see it, but he was beginning to lose his mind.

“Come on,” Joshua gritted, pressing the button one final time before the doors of the lift closed up.

Jeonghan pulled out his phone, his stomach twisting in anxiousness. “Maybe she forgot,” he mumbled.

“She couldn’t have,” Joshua replied at once, leaning back against the wall of the lift, placing his hands on the banister and gripping tightly. His gaze was lost on the floor, and Jeonghan knew his boyfriend’s mind was beginning to reel.

“Maybe she didn’t charge her phone,” Jeonghan said now, but he knew the words were empty. His heart deflated, stress coursing with each pump. “Or maybe she finally decided she’s better off like this.”

“She wouldn’t,” Joshua said, annoyance ringing in his tone. “She was happy, she told us just that—” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “If you’re not going to say something helpful, then shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up,” Jeonghan bit back, giving Joshua a scornful look. “We need to prepare for the worst. She’s been gone for five days, and not once has she expressed even wanting to come back. We left her alone, we dismissed every single complaint she had, and then we stood her up.”

“We didn’t stand her up!” Joshua gasped, his eyes widening in pure fear. “If you don’t want to go looking for her, then fine, but if she doesn’t call today, I’m going to the camping site.”

The doors parted, letting Joshua out before Jeonghan could reply with anything. But Jeonghan fell into step anyway, heart heavy as they both made their way to the apartment door. Joshua pushed himself in the direction of the kitchen, where they would wait for your phone call.

But Joshua came to a clean stop, noticing something new. Jeonghan sucked in a sharp gasp.

It was a lonely coffee cup, filled with water to the brim. A forgotten and unused tea bag was sitting on the counter. The water looked as though it had been boiled previously, but time went on, and it chilled, leaving specks of water where it once steamed. It was something so simple, and yet, it told both of them everything they needed to know.

Joshua reacted first. “Bunny?” he called out, his voice carried by a hint of hope. “Baby, are you here?” 

They both made it to the living room, where you were lying asleep on the obnoxiously large couch, hugging a blanket.

Jeonghan felt a wave of relief washing over him as he saw your pretty face. And in one second, he knew that every single resentful thought and comment he made all stemmed from fear of losing you. He looked at you and in one second, he forgot about the disappointment he felt when you left.

Jeonghan sighed, casting a look at Joshua, who took two steps towards you. “Let her sleep, Shua,” he mumbled softly.

But it was too late. You jerked awake, opening your eyes before you raised your head.

“Hey there,” Joshua said ever so gently. He was being cautious. “Don’t you want to sleep on the bed?” he asked at first, as though all of the other questions sitting at the tip of his tongue were meaningless.

Jeonghan understood that. But he couldn’t hold his curiosity back with that much efficacy. “When did you get here, princess?” he asked. And then, with slightly more urgency, he added. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were back?”

You pushed yourself up, sitting up slowly. Exhaustion was written all over you, but there was something else, something that was difficult to even hold witness to. With a painful jab to his gut, Jeonghan knew that you had been crying yourself to sleep—he’d seen it before, he was familiar with that look on your face.

And it seemed that Joshua noticed this at the same time, sending a furtive but meaningful glance at Jeonghan.

“Please sit. Both of you,” you croaked, motioning to them over. Your voice was low, but even then, it was still sweet.

Jeonghan moved first, sitting next to you without moving his gaze away from you. Then Joshua followed, sitting to your other side.

“I got here like two hours ago,” you replied to Jeonghan’s question. “I thought you’d be back soon. But I was too tired, and I fell asleep waiting for you.”

“Why did you leave for so long?” Joshua asked, his face showing the worry he had been trying to hold back for days.

You shook your head, gnawing at your lower lip to stop it from quivering. “Please, I’ll answer to everything in a moment,” you told him, your voice lowering to a broken whisper. “Just let me get this out and I’ll tell you everything.”

You stood up from the couch, slowly moving to the armchair where you had left your bag. “I didn’t know why I was feeling so drained, and it scared me that my emotions were so out of control, so I started thinking and then—” your voice got cut off by a sob. But you didn’t stop, reaching inside the bag to pull out a bunch of Ziploc bags. “—I started feeling ill.”

Jeonghan watched the moment happen in front of him as though his mind had left his body. With a deep blow to his chest, he instantly knew what was inside each plastic bag. They were pregnancy tests. Each bag was labelled with the time and date you did each test, the symptoms you were having, and the results. Some were marked as negative, but the majority were positive.

“I’m pregnant,” you said, voice trembling. And your entire demeanor had an explanation for its renounced nature now. You were suffocating in nervousness and panic.

All the things Jeonghan felt in that moment.

“What?” Jeonghan blurted, turning his head to look beside him.

Joshua was equally, or if not, more shocked. His eyes had widened, his mouth hanging slightly. His whole body had gone rigid, to the point that Jeonghan was sure his boyfriend had stopped breathing.

Huge tears spilled from your eyes as you sighed in both exhaustion and something that resembled despair. “I t-took all of these tests. Only two came out negative,” you said, choking back a sob. “I’m pregnant,” you repeated, still quivering.

Jeonghan took the bunch of bags from your hand. “But how is this possible?” he asked despite his shock. Jeonghan didn’t have the headspace to count or to read the things you had scribbled in the notes on each bag. But he could swiftly calculate at least ten of them. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled shakily.

“Did you stop taking your birth control pills?” Jeonghan asked, the words still spilling out of him before he could think twice about them.

You shook your head, using the back of your hand to wipe your tears. “I’ve been taking them accordingly until I found out about this,” you said, your voice coming out a little congested.

With trembling fingers, Jeonghan skirted through the plastic bags as though he needed to see the eight out of ten positive test results to convince himself. You did all of these tests all on your own, and held to this information for days before mustering the strength and valor to tell Joshua and Jeonghan.

Foolishly, Jeonghan felt his mouth drop open. His eyes skimmed through the notes you had scribbled with Sharpie on the plastic bags. He read through the symptoms you were documenting in each bag. You were sick for days, experiencing nausea, breast tenderness, and headaches.

And he remembered you constantly feeling tired. The lashing out, the crying… And he’d brushed it all off. His heart crushed even harder. “What do you want to do?” Jeonghan asked, slipping into a problem-solving mode.

You shrugged, lower lip trembling slightly. “I’ve already talked to my doctor and scheduled an appointment,” you replied, but the answer felt empty. Like you were hanging on for either Joshua or Jeonghan’s opinion on the matter.

Jeonghan’s gut twisted, realizing that his mind was completely blank.

You watched them both for a long minute, anguish contorting the features of your face as neither of them mustered the reaction you were looking for. You had expected something else, what? You were not sure. But you were disheartened by their impassiveness, by their shock. You had half-expected Jeonghan to be shocked, yes. But you also had expected Joshua to appear at least a bit happier.

Your eyebrows knitted in a bit of despair. “Joshua?” you called softly, taking a tiny step towards him. “Babe, are you listening?”

Joshua snapped to reality. In one movement, he rose from the couch, picking you up from the floor with a big hug, spinning you around in the living room. He was completely silent, his eyes glistening with tears, sobbing loudly as he hid his face in your neck.

You let out a light giggle, wrapping your arms around him. Relief washed over you; it was visible by the way you closed your eyes, sighing through your nose. Joshua put you back on the floor, cupping your face to kiss it repeatedly to hear your laughter again.

You touched his forehead with your own, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m pregnant, Josh,” you repeated. Your voice was now sweeter and so full of love.

And Jeonghan just watched. Aghast, heart beating a mile per second.

You were pregnant.

✮ author’s note: helloooooo!!

this has been sitting in my drafts since july 2024. and it truly is so amazing that we're here now! so uh, ta-da? lmao

thank you guys for reading this far! i has been a while since i had posted such a long chapter and it has been really exciting. this was a roller coaster of emotions. and i loved every minute of it!

i am so excited hehehe

toodles!

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

“Dude, hurry up!” Wonwoo groans, glancing back at his teammate with an eye roll, who’s taking his sweet time. “I’m not trying to get blinded by paparazzi tonight.”

Vernon barely registers his annoyance, still riding the high of his podium win earlier that day. He trails behind Wonwoo while his mind replays the champagne sprays, trophy lifts, and the roar of the crowd celebrating with him. Nothing beats it.

Well, almost nothing.

His gaze lands on a perfect pair of perky tits spilling out of what some might generously call a top. Or what used to be one, he thinks, as his eyes wander across the knotted strings that do nothing to hide the woman’s hardened nipples. Okay, maybe strip clubs are also high up on the feel-good scale, because suddenly he feels fucking fantastic all over again.

Further inside, he’s introduced to a blur of faces; other celebrities who are here to party with him, starstruck fans, and of course other influential patrons whose names he’ll forget by morning. A dancer brushes past him in a rush, and something about her flickers in the back of his mind.

Why does she look familiar?

Before he can place it, the group is ushered deeper into the club, and he’s distracted all over again by the number of women fawning over him. Not that he’s complaining.

“Right this way, gentlemen,” the club promoter says smoothly, leading them into the private VIP section where bottle girls and expensive liquor are already waiting. “We’re honored to have the face of Virex Racing celebrating with us tonight. In fact, we’ve arranged a special performance just for you.”

Vernon barely has time to process the words before he’s surrounded by a sea of perfect tits, each pair attached to another gorgeous woman giving him all of her attention.

“We did our homework,” the promoter adds with a knowing grin, eyebrows wiggling as he references Vernon’s infamous interviews, ones where he’s shamelessly declared himself a boob guy over ass and anything else.

The lights shift as the music shifts into a new song, and each dancer moves to her own rhythm, yet somehow they remain perfectly in sync. They’re fluid, sensual, magnetic. Vernon watches completely enthralled as they twist and sway, turning the stage into a fantasy built just for him.

They part, dividing into two groups on either side of the stage, making way for what he assumes is the main event.

Then she steps into view. The redhead he clocked earlier. Her vibrant curls bounce with every step, and she’s wearing a sultry, skin-tight version of his racing suit. Much smaller, of course. Hugging every curve like it’s glued to her.

And he can’t look away.

She has him mesmerized, under a spell of sorts, as she climbs onto his lap. She tips her head back as the two dancers behind her (whom he didn’t even notice at first) spill champagne onto her chest, and she uses the moment to run her hands through her hair, down her neck, to her (temporarily) covered breasts, before tearing open the shirt, letting herself be completely exposed to him.

With every swirl of her hips against Vernon’s lap, his length awakens, growing harder by each passing second. She guides his hands to either side of her waist, his thumbs resting below the swell of her breasts, before leaning into his touch to finish the performance.

It’s quite the grand finale; he has no complaints, and neither does his aching cock. If anything, he’s sad it’s over.

As the patrons all clap, the other dancers return to their normal duties, one pretty brunette finding her way into Wonwoo’s lap, who is more than pleased to have her there.

“So Mr. Big Winner,” the redhead whispers in Vernon’s ear, pressing her bare breasts against his chest, the heat radiating through the fabric of his shirt. “How does it feel to be number one?”

His brain short-circuits as that voice sends chills–and not the good kind–down his spine.

He knows that voice.

The realization hits him faster than an F1 car can hit the Armco barrier. You’re the younger sister of his childhood friend, turned popular actor whom Vernon irregularly stays in touch with. He remembers the day Youngmin called to tell him about your disappearance, how you had vanished. Secretly moving overseas and going no contact with your family. It was a touchy subject for his friend, so he never asked the details behind what happened.

He never expected to see you here, in Monaco of all places, and this much of you at that.

His eyes drop before he can stop it, taking in your barely-there outfit, drinking in one last glance before his guilty conscience steps up to gently pull the fabric of your top back together.

“Y/N…” he says, pained from the discovery, frustrated that his fun is over.

You freeze in the man’s lap the moment you hear your name. Your real name. You hadn’t even told him your stage alias, so how the hell does he know your legal one?

Your gaze snaps up to meet his, meet his dark brown orbs that stare you down, the recognizable golden glint in them instantly reminding you of your past.

Vernon.

Your brother’s friend.

You didn’t recognize him at first. He’s changed a lot. The quiet, lanky guy you used to know is long gone. Now he’s all muscle and sharp edges, with broad shoulders and thick biceps that make your mouth water.

And the tattoos…

They twist from his fingers up each arm, a snake-like figure that turns into more inky lines that curl along his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. You can only imagine what’s hidden beneath the fabric, what intricate details cover his chest, his abs…maybe they dip even lower, past his waistband…

Your eyes flick downward as your mind wanders.

“Y/N,” Vernon says again, voice low and rough. It sends a flame straight through you, which is quickly extinguished when he suddenly lifts you off his lap.

Before you can protest, he’s already dragging you off the floor, taking you somewhere more private, away from all the prying eyes. Of course, it just so happens to be the dressing room where all the dancers get ready before their stage sets.

Once inside the brightly lit room, his eyes sweep over you again. “So it is you,” he says, voice low but sure.

Dahlia, one of the other dancers, is at her vanity adding final touches before her next pole performance. She catches your eye in the reflection and gives you a knowing look. A silent warning. You're never supposed to be alone with a client.

Even if it’s someone you know. Or used to know. You're still working out the details on that.

“Long time, no see,” you say, letting your gaze drift over his face. Despite his new rough and tough look, there’s still something familiar about him. Something that feels surprisingly safe.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snaps, though his eyes betray him, flicking to your cleavage before narrowing again. “Zip your jacket back up.”

“I’m working, or I was,” you say while your eyes are glancing down, trying to find the zipper just below your chest. “Until you dragged me in here.”

Vernon groans under his breath. It’s pure torture watching you fumble with your jacket. Your frustrated little huffs, the way each failed attempt pushes your tits higher. Every passing second drives him crazier but he can’t look away.

Jesus. Get it together.

He steps in before he can talk himself out of it, grabs the edges of your cropped jacket from your hands, and zips it up in one swift motion. All while pretending like he doesn’t feel your body under his fingers.

Even though he absolutely does.

“You don’t work here. Not anymore.”

You blink. “I’m sorry?” A laugh slips out after hearing his ridiculous statement. “Did I miss the part where you became the boss of me?”

“You heard me,” he growls, jaw tight and eyes burning into yours. “Grab your shit. We’re leaving.”

He’s furious, more than you’ve ever seen him. And fuck, it’s hot. Like, really hot.

“I can’t just walk out,” you say, your voice lowering as your gaze flicks around the empty room. You’re watching for Bossman. His real name is something boring like Clyde, but no one calls him that. Just Boss or Bossman. Simple. To the point. He’s the one who found you, gave you a place and a purpose when no one else would.

You signed the contract willingly. You knew the price.

And now Vernon’s here, trying to tear down your world with three angry words.

“Yes, you can.”

Walking away means giving all of it up.

The contract was clear: as long as you hit your goals, the money flows. A luxury apartment, fancy car, designer clothes. Everything you ever dreamed of.

The downsides: you can’t sleep with anyone, which also means no dating, no exclusive relationships, or anything else like that. You have to seem available–but never actually be. That untouchable aura is what keeps the girls in demand. Everyone wants you, but no one can have you. And when a customer thinks they’ve caught your attention? They spend more on drinks, dances, and gifts. All for the illusion of being special.

So, being cornered by Vernon right now, all alone? A very bad look. Just like running off with him would be.

Breaking the rules doesn’t always get you fired. Not right away, of course. But it does mean fewer performances, fewer gifts–no purses, no designer jewelry, no weekend getaways. And if the money stops flowing, if the regulars start losing interest because you're no longer rare, no longer untouchable, then you’re dropped.

No pretty penthouse. No fantasy life. Just the street.

Bossman is respectful, but he doesn’t tolerate any bullshit. You've seen what happens when girls repeatedly break the rules and end their contract. If you walk out with Vernon, your life here ends tonight.

“I think we should head back,” you say smoothly, putting on a smile. “Your friends are probably wondering where you went.”

It’s a convenient excuse to leave the locker room, of course, but it gets you back into Boss’s line of sight. Back into character.

“I’m not leaving you here,” Vernon says, following you out. He’s hot on your heels, his words catching the attention of others. “Not when every guy in this place is looking at you like you’re a meal. Absolutely not. Either you walk out on your own, or I’m dragging you out of here.”

“If I leave, I lose everything.” Your voice cracks despite your best effort to sound steady. “Everything I’ve worked so hard for will disappear.”

“Then it was never really yours to begin with,” he sighs, making a good point. “This life isn’t meant to last, Y/N. I’m giving you an out, offering you my help. I know how places like this work. Would you rather wait until he decides you’re expired? Then what?”

Exactly. Then what?

What will you do when that day comes? When the fresh faces begin stealing the attention of your regulars, when the spotlight slowly shifts further and further away from you. You’re only twenty-seven, but in this world, that clock ticks louder every night.

Your eyes flick toward Bossman, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He sees what’s happening. He knows. With a subtle nod, he gives you what little power this place allows: the illusion of choice.

And right now, the choice is yours.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Let’s go.”

Vernon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding now that he’s finally convinced you to leave.

You quickly mention that you need to change before heading back to the dressing room to slip back into your previous outfit. Which Vernon soon learns is a tight, little red dress and a pair of the strappiest heels he’s ever seen.

His eyes darken as you make your way back over to him. “Ready?” he asks.

You nod.

“Let’s go,” he says, taking the small bag of what he assumes are your minimal belongings from your locker, tossing it over his shoulder.

He notices as you wave goodbye to some of the girls, your friends, likely. Not the ones who are already whispering about tonight’s events. Girls who, undoubtedly, are talking about both of you leaving together.

Vernon doesn’t waste another second before he practically hauls you out of the busy club and drags you down the crowded street. He barely gives you time to catch your breath, something he’ll probably have to apologize for later.

Still, considering the circumstances, he thinks he deserves a little credit for not completely losing it in there. Because truthfully? He came very close. Every time someone looked at you like a shiny little plaything, his fists tightened. Beating the shit out of half the men in that room crossed his mind more than once.

He flags down the first cab he sees, ushering you into the backseat before climbing in next to you. He gives the driver the name of his hotel and sits back, thinking about the crazy turn of events that tonight dropped on him.

It’s not until the club lights blurred into the rearview mirror that the white-hot anger in his chest begins to simmer down, allowing him to try and make sense of things. He still has a million questions running through his head, but he knows better than to ask them now. They’re not quite appropriate to discuss in a taxi, so he resorts to sitting in silence.

The drive is short, thankfully, and he slips the driver some cash with a quick thanks before stepping out. He rounds the car and offers you his hand as you step onto the curb.

As you both walk toward the hotel entrance, his palm finds the small of your back. He doesn’t move it as the elevator doors close behind you. Instead, he lets it linger, as the lift begins its slow ascent to his floor.

“Let me grab you something to change into,” he says after letting you into his suite, walking over to his wardrobe to find something–anything–more comfortable than what you have on currently.

“Do you mind if I wash up?” you ask, accepting the pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he offers to you. “I’d prefer to scrub off all the hands that touched me tonight.”

His jaw flexes, but he forces it to relax before answering. “Of course. There are clean towels folded on the top shelf, and you’re more than welcome to use any of my toiletries.” Though his items are probably not up to your standards. “Tomorrow we’ll pick up some things for you.”

“Um, thank you. I’ll just, uh–” you murmur awkwardly, gesturing toward the bathroom before disappearing inside.

Vernon watches you go, listening to the soft click of the door locking behind you. For a moment, he stands there in the quiet, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air. It’s only when the shower kicks on that he finally lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

His shoulders relax as he sinks into the sofa, rubbing a hand down his face. What the hell is he getting himself into?

He sighs as his phone chimes in his pocket. Fishing it out, he scrolls through a handful of notifications, one in particular catching his eye–a text from Wonwoo.

‘Enjoy the redhead’

He doesn’t reply. Nor to the others from his buddies asking if he’s still out, suggesting drinks and a social appearance at another club.

Vernon’s had more than enough fun for the night, but a drink actually sounds good right about now. But more than that, he could really go for some comforting breakfast food–fluffy scrambled eggs, warm buttered croissants, maybe even a stack of fruit compote crêpes drizzled with honey. It’s nearly three in the morning at this point, which to him is close enough to breakfast time.

Assuming you’ll both be up while talking things through, he figures having something to eat wouldn’t hurt. He places a room service order, probably requesting far more than necessary, but at this rate, there has to be at least one thing you’ll like. Maybe he should have asked about your food preferences, or more importantly, if you have any dietary restrictions, before you disappeared into the shower.

Oh well. Too late now.

About thirty minutes later, there’s a gentle knock at the door. Vernon tips the hotel attendant generously as the man wheels in a cart loaded with hot plates and silver-domed dishes.

“Please enjoy your breakfast, and do let us know if you require anything further, Monsieur,” the attendant says with a courteous smile before leaving the suite.

The bathroom door cracks open moments later, and a trail of steam leaks through the doorway as you step out.

“Perfect timing,” Vernon says, glancing over at you as the bathroom door cracks open. Your wet hair is twisted up into a towel, and his clothes hang loose on your frame, but they still manage to cling in all the right places. That image will likely haunt him tonight more than he’d like to admit.

He gestures toward the sitting area. “Come eat.”

You sit down next to him and pass the dishes back and forth. Vernon is pleased as he watches you pile a little of everything onto your plate–proof that ordering half the menu wasn’t a mistake.

You bite into a cinnamon roll, letting out a soft hum of approval before moving on to try something else. For a few moments, the only sound is the quiet clinking of your silverware. He steals a glance at you while sipping some of the freshly pressed juice, debating how to dive back into the conversation from earlier.

You beat him to it. “So…how much do we have to eat before we talk about what happened at the club?” you ask, spearing a forkful of eggs.

Vernon exhales, setting his fork down with a faint scrape against porcelain. “I guess now’s as good a time as any.”

“I hope you meant what you said about helping me,” you say, the nerves slipping through your voice. “Because if you go back on your word, I won’t have anywhere to go.”

He frowns. Backing out hadn’t crossed his mind, but he doesn’t buy that last part. “You’d have options,” he says carefully. “You can always go home. I don’t know what exactly happened with your family, but I’m sure they’d take you back.”

Your eyes drop to your plate, voice trembling slightly. “Well, you’d be wrong. I don’t want anything to do with them–and they want even less to do with me.”

The tone of your voice is enough to stop him from pushing further, even as his curiosity craves for more details. He wants to ask, but the fragility of your words tells him now isn’t the time. You’ll share when you’re ready.

“In that case, I think it’s best if you stick with me for now,” Vernon firmly states. “I meant what I said. I’ll help you get back on your feet, and you’ll be safe with me. I’ve got a big security team, and there are always private areas at the tracks if your boss shows up and tries to cause trouble.”

“That won’t happen. My club wasn’t like that.”

He doesn’t argue, but he’s sure his skepticism is written across his face. Because he knows better. Places like that don’t just let a top moneymaker walk out the door like that before they’re done with her.

“Traveling with me does come with risk,” he continues. “The media will quickly take notice, and if you’re seen with me frequently, the tabloids will assume you’re sleeping with me. They’ll dig into your past, and I’d rather get ahead of it before it spirals.” He pauses, weighing the thought, “Which means you’ll need some kind of title. Something that explains why you’re with me. A role that shuts down the rumors and speculation before it starts.”

Your brows furrow, “So what am I supposed to do? I can’t just follow you around for months without people asking questions. And what happens when the season ends?”

Vernon rubs his jaw as different scenarios race through his mind.

Then, it clicks.

“That’s perfect, actually.” He nods, already running it over, calculating the risks.

“Um…feel like sharing your perfect idea out loud? Or am I supposed to read your mind?”

The corner of his mouth is tugged into a smirk. That attitude is familiar. Beneath the borrowed clothes and glamorous facade you’ve built to survive up to this point, you’re still the same sharp-tongued girl he remembered from years ago.

“You’ll work for me as my personal assistant,” Vernon starts. “You’ll earn money that’s actually yours to keep, and have the chance to make connections with people in all kinds of industries if you want a fresh start somewhere else once the season ends. You’ll work closely with my PR manager, and the rest…” he exhales, “We’ll figure it out as we go. Okay?”

You nod slowly. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll figure it out…together?”

His lips twitch at the word, and something tightens in his chest. “Together.”

Vernon finishes off the last of his food, pushing his plate away before standing up. “I’m gonna get cleaned up for the night.”

“Not heading back out for any lingering late-night party appearances?”

“Nah,” he sighs. “I’m exhausted. Honestly, I’m looking forward to being asleep before daylight on a race night for once. You can take the bed–”

“Oh, don’t even do the whole ‘I’ll take the couch’ thing, Vern,” you cut in. “I’m too grown to care about that. We’re both adults. We can share a bed and survive one night. Plus, I’d feel worse if you woke up with a kink in your neck because of me.”

He studies you for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll probably be passed out before you even climb in anyway.”

Later, as he washes his face, he can’t get the earlier image of you out of his head. Your bare skin under sparkling under the club lights, the bounce of your breasts mid dance performance, that sultry smile that had everyone–himself included–wanting more.

He shakes his head. Those are some dangerous thoughts to be having when he’s about to crawl into bed beside you. He takes a couple of deep breaths before stepping out. And just like you said you’d be, you’re already fast asleep by the time he emerges from the bathroom.

For a second, he debates taking the couch anyway. It would be safer. Certainly smarter. But he has practice tomorrow, and he needs real, restful sleep.

Vernon slips beneath the covers, careful not to wake you in the process. He’s still adjusting when you roll over in your sleep and press against him, warm and soft. He freezes, but he doesn’t push you away. Because damn…it’s nice.

Too nice.

But he can’t go there. Not with you. Not when you’re about to be an official Virex Racing team member. Which reminds him, he’s going to have so fun explaining this to the rest of his crew in the morning…

“Everyone, this is Y/N,” Vernon introduces, addressing the room of curious eyes that immediately land on you. “She’s the newest addition to Virex, working directly under me as my personal assistant. Y/N comes with years of experience managing exclusive VIP clientele in the hospitality industry. She knows how to navigate fast-paced environments, read people quickly, and balance charm with professionalism. Her specialty includes anticipating needs, handling demanding personalities, and keeping things running smoothly behind the scenes. Meaning she’s going to be an incredible asset to our team. So, please, welcome her in and help her get the hang of things.”

Well, that’s certainly one way to word your skill set.

It’s only been an hour since you landed in Barcelona, and Vernon wasted no time putting things in motion. This morning, he had a personal shopper escort you through boutiques to build a full wardrobe of sharp business wear, comfortable clothes for travel days, even pajamas and undergarments. A new cellphone was hand-delivered to you, already set up, paired with a laptop and a sleek work bag to match.

On the short flight over, Vernon gave you a crash course on Virex’s history and the basics of Formula One. To be honest, most of it went over your head, but you’ll do more research on your own tonight so you don’t sound like a total idiot in any potential conversations.

And now, here you are, standing in front of the very people you’ll be working alongside. People you hope will eventually become friends.

“Ash!” Vernon calls out.

A woman around your age steps forward from the group. Vernon gestures between you. “This is Ash, my PR manager. Typically, this would be under your realm of duties to handle with new hires, but since you’re the new hire in this scenario, she’ll help you get all the required paperwork sorted, along with your passes for field and track access. I’ll have someone come grab you once practice ends so you can meet the other Virex drivers. Your phone already has my number saved, along with the crew’s, so if you need anything, just reach out. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you reply.

“Of course. I’ll see you tonight.” He gives a small nod before heading toward the door, a few team members trailing after him. Just before stepping out, he glances back at you once more, then disappears down the hall.

“That’s…strange,” Ash murmurs, eyebrows pinching together.

Your heart rate picks up. Shit. Did they already catch on? You haven’t even said that much yet. “Oh, nothing’s strange,” you say quickly. “Vernon’s friends with my brother. He offered me an opportunity, and I couldn’t really pass–”

“No, not that,” Ash cuts in. “You being here makes sense. He trusts you already. It’s just strange to see him being…”

“Friendly? Patient? The opposite of a dickhead?” someone chimes in from behind you. You turn to find a tall man with sharp features and long blonde hair holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Rui, Vernon’s stylist. Love your hair, by the way.”

“Yeah, any of those words fit,” Ash says with a shrug. “Vernon’s…well, how do I put it? He’s notorious for being difficult. Usually with the press, but also with anyone who screws up. He’s a perfectionist, on and off the track, and expects everyone around him to be the same.”

“That’s why his last assistant lasted, what, a month?” Rui adds. “Being in charge of a racer’s day-to-day chaos is hard enough, but with Vernon Chwe?” He gives you a wry smile. “Buckle up, newbie.”

“So, he’s got quite a reputation.” Interesting. He wasn’t like that in the past.

“And then some,” Rui chuckles. “It was nice meeting you. I’m sure I’ll see you later, but I’ve got to run–big meeting with some brand reps.”

“Don’t crash and burn!” Ash calls after him as Rui practically sprints out the door. Then she glances back at you with a small smile. “Well, guess we should start our day too.”

Ash leads you deeper into Virex’s headquarters on this track, pointing things out as she gives you a brisk tour on the way to the temporary office space you’ll both be working out of for the next few days before this weekend’s race.

The paperwork doesn’t take long, and before you know it, your name is on every official list. Several lanyards hang heavy around your neck, each pass granting access to something you’ll probably need at some point.

“Honestly,” Ash sighs in relief, leaning back in her chair, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been juggling both PR and assistant duties the last few weeks, and it’s been a nightmare.”

“That definitely sounds like one. If there’s anything you want me to take off your plate today, I’d be happy to.”

“I appreciate it. Most of the urgent things for this week are already handled, but you’ll need to finalize a few details for the upcoming races. It’s all outlined in this,” she says, pulling up a neatly organized digital document on her screen, color-coded and broken down by date. She shares with you, and the quiet ding coming from your laptop confirms you’ve received it.

“Honestly, being a personal assistant isn’t all that different from other service-industry jobs. I think you’ll transition into the role easily. A lot of it is checking in, confirming meetings and appointments, and keeping track of the little things. Some of it’s less glamorous, like making sure to have flowers before his dates–because he’ll never remember–or grabbing coffees on early mornings. But then there are the bigger responsibilities like making sure he fulfills sponsorship obligations, keeping his schedule balanced between work and personal life, making sure he shows up for any previously arranged appearances, and travel itineraries.

“As for me, I handle the media contracts, brand endorsements, press conferences, his public image–sponsorship deals, social media reputation, that kind of thing. Sometimes our jobs overlap, so it’s a matter of whoever gets to it first. The most important part is being able to anticipate needs before they’re spoken. Being quick, adaptable, and making chaos look effortless, that’s what this job demands.”

“Well, you’re clearly nailing it. Especially in those,” you say, letting your eyes flick down to the designer heels you clocked earlier. You used to have a pair just like that…

Maybe after a few pay days, you’ll be able to buy a new pair–a set that will mean so much more to you.

“Would you mind explaining the meaning behind Virex?” You ask, diverting your thoughts back to something work-related. “Vernon gave me a brief rundown of the team’s history on the flight here, but I don’t think he mentioned that part.” And it’s been at the back of your mind ever since. It’s such an interesting name and concept, you’re sure there’s more to it than you are aware of.

“Of course,” Ash says, smiling as if she’s been waiting for you to ask. “Since it’s still a relatively new name in the racing world, the founders wanted something sharp and memorable, something that carried weight. At first, they were running under a different name; it was forgettable, too corporate-sounding. Then Vernon came into the picture. After one test drive in their prototype, the owners said it was like watching a predator stalking its prey on the track. The way he cornered, his dominance, the precision–it sealed their decision. Virex was (re)born. The name itself is a hybrid: viper for speed and danger, and apex for the top, the climax. It’s sleek, aggressive, and it embodies exactly how they wanted the brand to be seen.”

“Hmm. Fitting,” you murmur, unable to stop the image of Vernon’s serpent tattoo curling across his left arm from flashing in your mind.

Ash nods. “Right? The whole rebrand happened almost overnight. They signed Vernon immediately, and he’s been here ever since, along with our other driver. Both of them built this team’s reputation from the ground up. Honestly, it’s rare for drivers to stay this loyal. Usually, they get lured away by bigger contracts from more prestigious teams. But these two decided to stick it out, and it’s paying off. For all of us.”

As Ash guides you through the paddock, you pass clusters of Virex crew members chatting in tight circles, some faces clearly veterans, others fresh and wide-eyed just like yours. The air holds the mechanical scent of oil and rubber, and the faint roar of the engines still cooling down after practice laps.

You follow her to the garage, where mechanics stream in from the track side, their coveralls streaked with grease and sweat as they haul gear around, sharing half-shouted updates.

“Y/N, this is Wonwoo,” Ash says as a tall, dark-haired man approaches. His eyes catch yours with a flash of recognition, before his expression smooths into a polite smile. He was at the club last night, too.

You freeze.

He notices.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, offering his hand like a confidential vow to keep your secret. You slowly extend yours, grasping his and giving a gentle shake.

His smile grows, “My personal crew’s tied up in a meeting right now, otherwise I’d introduce you.”

“I’m sure we’ll run into them later this week,” Ash adds. “It’s hard to miss people when you work out of the same space.”

Wonwoo is about to respond when he’s pulled aside by one of the mechanics. They fall into a conversation about logistics; Ash is intently listening in as they go back and forth about cylinder pressure.

But your attention drifts to the far side of the garage, where the other heavy door slides open. Sunlight spills in, chased by the low echo of racecars in the distance.

And then he strides in.

His helmet is still on, and the tight, black racing suit clings to his toned frame. Vernon doesn’t need to announce himself when everyone around him does it for him. The subtle shift in the air, the way bodies move instinctively out of his path, the unspoken gravity that pulls everyone’s attention toward him.

When he takes off his helmet, hair damp with sweat tumbles downward, and his eyes lock onto yours through the stingy strands. His gaze is sharp, yet impossible to look away from.

Your pulse races. Heat rushes through your core as you pretend to be unaffected. This is dangerous territory; the kind you shouldn’t want to step into.

And yet, not a single cell in your body is telling you to run away.

Vernon’s eyes twinkle with a challenge, as if to say I dare you.

By the time the weekend arrives, you’ve settled into the rhythm of your new role. Every morning at 6 a.m. sharp, you’re standing outside Vernon the n’s hotel room with two coffees in hand. One for him, and one for the woman who sheepishly escapes in last night’s party dress after several minutes of knocking.

“So…call me?” she asks. He ignores her and yawns, snatching his coffee before shutting the door in both of your faces.

Today it’s a blonde. Yesterday, a brunette.

You offer the woman a polite smile as you escort her through the hotel and outside, where you flag down a cab. By the time you re-enter the snazzy lobby, the early-bird businessmen are slowly filling the available chairs as they wait for their car services to arrive. You snag one of the last open seats and look over your to-do list for the day while also waiting.

Nearly an hour later, Vernon emerges freshly showered and dressed, his typical scowl softened just the slightest by the caffeine. He nods to you as he strides toward the door, and you scramble out of your chair, catching up to him. It’s all become a part of your new routine, as has the silent car ride in the sleek company car on the way to the track.

Once at the Virex paddock, you’ll split apart. He’ll head for the garage, and you toward your makeshift office. Your day will then begin with a steady flow of emails, phone calls, sponsor obligations, and social media updates.

After tackling the above, it’s typically time for lunch–often catered for the entire team. The afternoon will then blur into meetings at Vernon’s side, or errands you run on his behalf.

Today is different.

It’s race day, and that means a new routine. During the drive to Virex’s private city complex, you scan through his schedule; it’s a long one.

His morning begins with some light training and physiotherapy, followed by the team breakfast. Then comes a data review with the engineers where they finalize his strategy, fuel loads, tire choices, and any impending weather contingencies.

Later in the afternoon, you head to the circuit together. While you’re escorted to the paddock, Vernon will make the rounds to say hello to his sponsors, his racing teammate, maybe even family if they spontaneously arrive. The mandatory driver parade takes place two hours before the race, after which you help Ash chase him down for the media and PR commitments he’s confirmed.

From there, your paths split for the next several hours.

Before lights out, Vernon is locked into his final briefing, reviewing tires again, pit stop windows, and the last-minute procedures that could decide the race results. Before suiting up, he always makes sure to hydrate and do a quick stretch. He then slips into his fireproof gear and checks his radios once his helmet is secure.

No matter how many times he’s done this, his nerves always tingle after his helmet is on his head. His mind and his body are temporarily disconnected until he’s strapped into his seat. He allows it because this is the only time he can be anxious.

By now, his car has been pushed onto the grid.

He joins the mechanics for final checks before being pulled aside for a quick interview with a reporter.

“Vernon, any thoughts on how today’s race might shape the rest of the season? Trying anything new out there?” she asks, clearly hoping for an inside scoop.

“It’s too early in the season to know how things will play out. Everyone here is hungry, everyone’s at the top of their game. I’m just excited to get out there, get down to business, and hopefully bring home another trophy,” he replies. Beside you, Ash nods, pleased he remembered his media training for once.

“Well, thanks for chatting, and good luck out there today!” the reporter says, satisfied with the quote.

You’ve done your research, and with Ash’s help, you learned that Vernon’s pre-race ritual includes blasting a very specific hype playlist through his helmet while he gets into the zone. He also does this little arm-and-shoulder wiggle-like dance, which you secretly find endearing.

You watch him do just that from your seat at the back of Virex’s garage–the last place you expected to be today, but apparently you’re needed here on standby. Ash is here too, ready to handle any sudden PR situations during the race.

She explained that depending on the circuit, you might be stationed in the team’s motorhome in the paddock, upstairs in the hospitality suites entertaining sponsors and VIPs, or bouncing between all three. But always following the broadcast, always on call.

The announcer’s voice welcomes everyone to the Spanish Grand Prix, but you tune it out. Your eyes are glued to the screen showing Vernon sliding into his car. Another screen flashes Wonwoo doing the same. All strapped in, helmets checked, engines humming, they’re ready.

Your hands grip the edge of your seat as the lights above the track count down, one by one. Holding your hold your breath, you wait for them to drop all at once.

And then they do.

Engines roar, tires screech, and the cars surge forward, a blur of speed and power. The cluster of cars slowly spreads out with each lap around the track.

The screen in front of Vernon’s engineers displays a close-up of his head. His helmet covers most of his face, but the translucent visor shows his focused eyes. He’s probably speaking to his his engineers and strategists, but nothing is broadcast aloud, for obvious reasons. Only those wearing the team headsets have access to the conversation.

A remark from somewhere over the radio must have him chuckle, as his eyes squint and his signature cockiness radiates through the camera’s view.

Twenty minutes later, laps continue spinning by, and the initial adrenaline of the race has faded.

“Well, want to head upstairs and meet more people?” Ash asks.

“Um…sure,” you say, eyes still jumping back and forth from the TV broadcast and the private Virex team screens.

“Don’t worry, we won’t miss much. The first stages of the race have the most chaos; now the engines are warm and the field’s spread out. The real action doesn’t start until the second half. That’s when strategy kicks in, and teams set up their moves.”

It makes sense, though a knot of anxiety tightens in your stomach. What if you look away and something happens to Vernon?

“Are there screens up there?” you ask, sliding out of your tall chair and following her up a flight of stairs.

“Even better,” she says, sweeping her arms toward the perfect view. “You can see the entire track from up here.”

You take it all in, eyes scanning the horizon until they settle on the sleek black car. It’s not flashy like competitor cars. Just subtle enough; it doesn’t draw everyone’s attention, but to you, it stands out immediately.

“Oh, perfect!” Ash exclaims, pulling your focus from the track. “One of the execs you haven’t met yet is up here, too. C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

“Hey, Y/N. Happy to see you’ve lasted this long,” he teases with a warm smile. “It’s a great day for a race, yeah?”

Along with everything else you’ve learned this week, what stood out to you the most is how genuinely caring the Virex execs and company are. Beneath their hunger and ambition, beneath the trophy-driven intensity, they look out for everyone–drivers and personal staff alike.

“It sure is, sir,” you reply, returning his smile.

“This is Dave, the Virex Team Principal,” Ash introduces.

“Pleasure to meet you, officially,” he says kindly. “We’re happy to have you in the family. Vernon’s a tough fella, but if anyone is going to make him mind, I bet it’s you.”

Dave has the kind of presence that reminds you of a grandfather figure. There’s a gentle twinkle in his eyes that immediately puts you at ease.

He guides you and Ash through the area, introducing you to his partner, Kwon, along with a handful of influential sponsors, some superfans, and other key members of the Virex team who help keep the organization running.

Before you know it, only ten laps remain. As you and Ash make your way back down to the garage, the hum of engines grows louder upon your approach. The scent of burning rubber and engine oil hangs thick in the air. Mechanics are hunched over monitors, eyes scanning every move on the track, radios crackling with updates.

Ash leans close, whispering, “This is it, this is the real race. Everyone’s positioning now matters. One mistake and it could cost everything.”

The cars weave around one another, fighting for better positions, maneuvering into tighter spots. Their tires squealing on the asphalt has your fingernails digging into your palms. Your heart pounds in your chest as Vernon inches past a Mercedes car, slotting himself into a prime position. But can he keep it?

Cheering erupts from the team behind you every time he gains ground, the intensity in the room increasing with each passing second. Ash’s eyes dart between the screens and the pit monitors, shouting numbers and strategies under her breath. The shared energy in the room surges through you like a potent drug. It’s intoxicating, dangerous, and highly addictive.

From your spot just behind the team barriers, you can see the cars approaching the finish line, where the checkered flag waves. Vernon maintains his pace. Every turn is precise, every shift well calculated, and he crosses in third place, snatching the remaining podium placement. Not far behind, Wonwoo finishes in fifth, both drivers breathing heavily but satisfied with their results.

The entire garage buzzes with relief and excitement, radios chatter with congratulations, and you can’t help but grin, having witnessed something great.

Vernon’s car slowly makes its way down the pit lane, giving him a clear path to the garage for the post-race inspection.

Dave strides over once the men take their helmets off, grinning ear to ear. He claps them each on the shoulder, “That was some fine racing out there, gentlemen. Let’s go celebrate!”

Vernon’s eyes lock with yours, and his smile hits you in a way that makes your chest flutter. The same funny, familiar feeling that had disappeared after the night he dragged you out of the club, suppressed under the week’s chaos and his nightly conquests. You know you shouldn’t think of him this way–especially now that he’s your boss–but you can’t help it. Not when he’s smiling like that.

You follow Ash as she rushes toward the podium ceremony, set up on the main straight. Big cameras pan over the growing crowd, and sponsor banners ripple in the breeze above cheering people. Vernon steps onto the podium with other top finishers, his helmet still tucked underneath his arm. The national anthems play over the speakers as photographers get footage of the 3 winners.

Feeling a little out of place, you hang back slightly while sponsors and VIPS brush past for the perfect view. More cameras flash, the sound of multiple shutters almost overwhelming as you try to stay out of their way, not necessarily wanting to be in any of their shots.

You’re not camera-shy by any means, but this high-profile scene isn’t easy to adjust to with your background. You know it’s something you’ll need to get used to.

There’s a small pang of sadness thinking about the life you left behind. You miss your friends and your old routines, but you remind yourself why you came here. This is where you can actually build something for yourself, create a future instead of just living for the moment.

You don’t regret your past as a stripper. It shaped you and taught you skills that are impossible to fake. Being able to command an entire room’s attention, reading people through subtle gestures, and knowing exactly how to use your presence to your advantage. Skills that, right now, are more useful than ever.

Cowering along the edges of the crowd is the last thing you should be doing. Forcing yourself out of this feeling, you straighten your spine, take a deep breath, and flash that million-dollar smile that makes men's knees weak. Moving closer to the front, you clap along with the crowd as Vernon is handed the third-place trophy.

Like he knows you’re somewhere out there, his eyes wander across the crowd until his gaze locks onto you. For a brief, breath-stealing moment, you realize he’s not focused on the trophy, the applause, or even the race.

He’s looking at you like you’re the real prize.

It’s another race weekend. Singapore, this time, your first night race. The city glitters around the circuit, skyscrapers glowing alongside the stars in the dark sky. It’s also the first street track you’ve experienced since working for Vernon. The energy is something else tonight; despite the humidity, the fans are everywhere.

The engine’s roar echoes off the concrete barriers, sounding like trapped thunder as the teams fly by. Up until the 50th lap, things had been steady. But now, with only 11 to go, the tension is growing rapidly.

Every driver seems to be dancing with disaster, lunging at every opening and braking way later than they should. It’s a fight tonight, and they’ve come prepared with all they’ve got.

It feels reckless to you, dangerous in a way that has your stomach twisting and turning sour. Your gaze flickers between the massive screens showing the live feed of Vernon and Wonwoo threading through the streets, and the actual stretch of track in front of you where more cars blast by.

Vernon is driving like a man possessed; all sparks and speed, no human hesitation. You watch him turn late into a corner, cutting across a rival, just inches from colliding with the car. A few minutes later, he takes his car wide, squeezing an Alpine driver so close to the wall that he barely escapes.

He’s being aggressive. Ruthless. More so than usual, gambling everything. The crowd erupts with every daring move; fans cheer, rivals grumble. All while your heart is in your throat.

Then it happens.

Out of nowhere, a Haas swerves across the racing line, clipping an Aston Martin. Metal crushes with a sickening sound. The Aston snaps sideways, screeching as it cartwheels down the straight. Once, twice, three times, before slamming onto its roof. For a moment, everyone is silent until horrified screams erupt as sparks land on the spilled fuel along the track, exploding into fire.

Vernon somehow manages to escape the chaos before him. He swerves sharply, skimming past the debris, avoiding disaster by mere inches.

Knowing Vernon is temporarily safe, your eyes shift back to the wreckage just in time to see the driver crawl free, clutching his shoulder as he puts space between himself and the fire.

Relief crashes over you, but the feeling doesn’t last. The flames roar higher, swallowing the overturned car in its entirety. Sirens wail onto the scene. Medics sprint to the injured driver, while the fire crew blasts jets of foam.

A yellow flag waves, and the safety car rolls out to lead the field. Engines quiet to a low growl as the grid slows, circling cautiously for a couple of laps while marshals clear the wreckage.

When the smoke finally thins and the last of the charred debris has been cleaned up, the safety car pulls back in.

Vernon sits in second place now, closer to victory than ever before.

One of the strategists yells into his headset, talking to Vernon, “You’re in P2. Now’s the time to push! Be smart, but stay fast. This win can be yours. How bad do you want it?”

On the screen, you can see Vernon’s grip tighten on the wheel. His car lunges forward after the next turn, chasing the leader with a cocky determination.

Lap after lap, he closes the gap.

And then, with just one remaining, Vernon makes an aggressive move. He slips past, squeezing himself into perfect position just as they near the finish. The checkered flag whips through the air, waving high as he surges across the line.

In first place.

He won.

The crowd roars, the sound rattling through your chest. Before you know it, you’re jumping up and down right along with them. Your throat is raw from screaming, but you don’t care. Around you, the engineers throw their arms around one another, and the mechanics pound each other’s backs. More team members are shouting and clapping like it’s their own personal victory. And in a way, it is.

This win belongs to all of them. Vernon may have crossed the line, but it was their relentless work that made it possible.

Tonight, the podium feels different.

Vernon stands tall and proud, shoulders squared like he was born for this moment, the gold trophy glinting in his hands as he lifts it high above his head. It’s not his first win, but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on his excitement.

His triumphant holler echoes through the air, instantly matched by the cheers of thousands. Cameras flash from every direction, capturing him in his moment. You snap a few pictures on your phone as selfish little keepsakes, because none of the official shots will ever compare to having your own record of his genuine happiness.

When the formalities end, Vernon joins the second and third place drivers. Together they shake their oversized champagne bottles, unleashing a glittering spray across the podium that soaks each other along with the lucky fans pressed against the barriers below.

The crowd eats it up, chanting their names, their cheers rattling the barriers like a living heartbeat.

Grinning from ear to ear, Vernon finally hops down from the stage, champagne dripping from his race suit. He pulls you into a quick, giddy hug that nearly knocks the breath out of you before clapping Ash on the shoulder as she offers her congratulations.

Then, as quickly as he arrived, Wonwoo swoops in and tugs him away with a knowing smirk. No doubt, dragging him off toward the afterparty–and women–that are already waiting.

“Are you coming?” Ash asks after noticing that you aren’t following the group.

You shake your head with a tired laugh. “I think I’m going to skip it, actually. I’m already exhausted, and now that he’s won, my morning’s going to be hell. I already have missed calls, emails, and every outlet wanting interviews. Extra sleep will do me some good. Shit!” You say, remembering another errand. “And on top of that, I’ve got to find a dress for the gala tomorrow night. Totally slipped my mind while I was buried in everything else this week.”

“Aww, we’ll miss you,” Ash says with an exaggerated pout, then breaks into a grin. “But that’s smart. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’ll sleep tonight.” She chuckles, rubbing at her eyes like the adrenaline is still buzzing through her veins. “Oh! And text Rui. He’s got contacts everywhere and can definitely help you track down a dress this last minute.”

“You’re a genius. Have fun tonight. Don’t get too crazy, though, or else Wonwoo might decide he doesn’t want to share you with the crowd,” you tease. You’ve been sensing something between Ash and Wonwoo for a while now.

They haven’t admitted anything, but their sexual tension says otherwise. They’ve definitely fucked.

“Oh, shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes, “Weren’t you leaving?” she teases.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”

Traffic is brutal on the way back to the hotel, and all you can think about is getting to your room and kicking off your heels. You knew better than to wear them today, but they were your latest big girl purchase, and you couldn’t resist breaking them in. Besides, they made you feel unstoppable. Plus, it was worth it seeing all the men practically drooling as you walked around the paddock earlier.

Finally, the car slows to a stop outside your hotel. You thank the driver before sliding out and heading in. In the elevator, your shoulders relax for the first time all evening. You let out a sigh as the doors begin to slide shut–

Just before the close, a hand slips between the two doors, halting the motion.

“Hey,” Vernon says, stepping inside.

“Oh. Hi.” You blink, caught off guard. You’re surprised to see him here. Shouldn’t he be at the afterparty, out drinking and celebrating?

And he’s alone. No woman is dangling from his arm. For a moment, you wonder if there’s someone already waiting for him upstairs. The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you swallow it back before it shows.

Instead, you offer him a small smile. “Congrats on the win tonight.”

“Thanks,” he says in a low voice.

Then silence settles between you.

Both of you watch the floor numbers climb higher and higher, your heart thudding louder with each passing second.

He sighs, sounding almost like in annoyance. With his arms crossed, his fingertips tap along his forearm. He sighs again, before saying, “Fuck it.”

Then he moves with speed, pressing you back against the cool metal wall, his mouth crashing onto yours without warning.

The kiss is hungry, full of want and need. You can feel the hard outline of him straining through his clothes as your body arches toward his. A moan slips out before you can stop it, muffled against his lips, which he bites down onto.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, yanking, twisting, pulling–anything to get him closer. He growls deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he deepens the kiss, devouring you like a man starved.

The elevator dings suddenly as the doors open to your floor.

The sound jolts you both, and you break apart as if waking from a trance. Breathless and dazed. Remembering where you are…what you’re doing…and who you’re doing it with.

“Um…thanks? Goodnight.” The words tumble out as you rush through the doors before they can close again. Your pulse is still racing, your lips still tingling from where he left his mark.

Vernon watches you disappear around the corner, rubbing a hand across his face when the doors slide shut again.

The elevator climbs higher once again, carrying him to his own floor, and he’s grateful you’re not on the same one tonight. If you were…

He knows he’d make another bad decision. Too much temptation within reach.

This way, at least, you won’t hear him. You won’t know when he’s getting himself off to the thought of you, just like he’s been doing almost every night since he met you.

Other women hadn’t worked as a distraction. He’d tried, but none of them could keep his attention for long. His mind always drifted back to you. That’s why he didn’t even bother bringing anyone else upstairs tonight. They’ll never be you.

And you’re the only one he’s addicted to.

It’s torture, seeing you every day and not being able to touch you the way he wants. Torture, watching you walk through the paddock in those perfect little ‘fuck me’ heels, stealing every man’s attention, his included.

Vernon doesn’t know if it’s the constant proximity that’s driven him this insane, or if it’s the fact that he shouldn’t want you at all. That he shouldn’t picture you the way he does. Not when you’re his friend’s estranged, missing younger sister. The secret he still hasn’t confessed he’s keeping.

But none of that mattered tonight. None of it was enough to stop him from finally giving in.

And now that he has…he’s not finished. Not in the slightest.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 - coming soon ↳ view series masterlist

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☾ author's note: i am back with yet again a long sex scene and i'm not sorry about it lol

thanks to @aeristudios for giving me ideas for dirty talk lol

and thanks to @coupsiedaisee for reassuring me that the dialogue i wrote didn't make the character sound like a maniac lmao

☾ 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 🙂

weak spot

Mornings were quiet. Almost too quiet for comfort.

In the past, when you were recovering from what had happened with your ex, Jay, you used to stick to a routine. The calm motion that matched the passing of time helped you not to think about him. It kept you from thinking about what you could have done to avoid it, to prevent the pain and start over.

You had acquired certain habits from that period. Like getting up at the same time every day, staying away from your phone, and starting the day with simple, human things. Most of those things were related to your physical well-being, as if you were trying to stay afloat, but ignoring the monster lurking in the darkest corners of your mind.

You kept your eyelids down while brushing your teeth, your hand moving in mechanical patterns, rinsing and repeating over and over until you felt satisfied. When washing your face, you still kept your eyes down and only looked at the mirror to guide yourself, without stopping for too long to look at your face.

Food had little appeal to you these days. You only cooked and prepared what would satisfy your belly for a while since you weren’t really in the mood for sugary things. And you’d found out that you didn’t miss it.

The routine kept you going, solidifying your belief that abusing your comforts led you to make painful mistakes.

Because when you sat down in the quiet of your home, it hurt to think about it—about Mingyu. About Wonwoo. About all the things you did to fill the void you had in your heart, the one you never tended to when your ex-boyfriend left.

So you resorted to not thinking about it at all.

You took long walks outside, with little heed to where you went. The city was so vast yet so small that it felt like one day you would have toured to the last corner of it. But something about it also gave you a new sense of wonder. Each day, you found a new place you hadn’t yet seen, you saw new people, and sometimes, even, you were fortunate enough to find some familiar faces.

Since you had made a commitment to finish the online course that Mingyu had convinced you to take, you were in dire need of picking up new inspiration. You paid attention to billboards, digital ads displayed on the sides of the buildings, and the things people were drawn to pay attention to on the subway home.

You became a creature that followed only bright, shiny things. Only to admire, learn and try to recreate in your own view. You stopped chasing deadlines and finished work early.

You didn’t want the course to end. Every week, you’d get new assignments and felt excited that you had new things to plan, new tasks to tackle. You almost even started considering the idea of slowly switching careers.

This night’s walk was uneventful.

Part of you was beginning to face the fact that your outlet for not thinking about your current state of mind was flimsy to begin with. And it was starting to feel stale at the edges, when your mind was threatening to come out of autopilot.

The summer rains had ceased, and thankfully the afternoons had stopped having you covered in sweat due to the muggy heat. The weather was pleasant, and the streets around the city parks were covered with foliage of deep browns and oranges.

But sometimes, it did rain. And this was the case for this afternoon.

You had brought with you an umbrella. But feeling too lazy to open it, you allotted that decision to wetting your face with rain just to change things up.

Instinctively, you started to make your way back home, walking across alleys and wet pavement. As you looked at the small ripples the droplets of water caused in the pavement, you wondered if these walks would eventually lead you somewhere. You wondered when it would be the right time to face it. To finally start healing.

You looked up, mindlessly watching the rain fall, the small patches of white clouds amidst the greyer ones. You continued walking like this, unafraid to run into a stranger, or to bump against a streetlamp.

That is why and how you didn’t notice Jeon Wonwoo standing outside your building.

When you looked down, you came to a full stop. The air got caught in your throat, causing a dramatic sound that made him turn around. He had been staring at his shoes before he heard you walking down the sidewalk. Hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans. He looked glorious to you. His hair was messy, like he had ruffled it with his fingers to shake the droplets of rain, he’d gotten his glasses splashed with water too but only slightly.

“Hi,” he said quietly, taking his hands out of his pockets and starting fidgeting with the hem of the long sleeves of his white sweater.

Your pulse had quickened, running a mile per second in your chest, making it hard to breathe, to swallow. “Wh-what are you doing here, Wonwoo?” you asked immediately, unable to hide the quiver in your voice, unable to blink away the shock.

But to your credit, he was also nervous to see you. He kept his distance, some three large steps to where you stood—firmly glued to the pavement, just like you were.

“I guess I could’ve called you but… it felt to me that this was better to handle in person,” he said, looking at your face. He waited for your answer, but since you remained speechless, he continued, parting his mouth softly at first as though looking for the right words to say. “This won’t take long. Just a couple of minutes.”

The feeling inside you, twisting and shaking you to your core told you to refuse this. Time and time again you have opened your door to things like this.

“Do you want to come up?” you asked, ignoring the bright red flags rising in the back of your mind.

Wonwoo hesitated, his eyes flitting to the space surrounding you, noticing the rain coming down slightly harder than a couple of seconds ago. He nodded wordlessly, taking a step back so you could take the lead inside your building, him following you behind.

Your heart thumped so hard and quick inside your chest that you felt it threatened you to not speak. And it was only made worse the time your gaze flitted to him as you opened your door to your apartment, so you also avoided looking at him again.

You pushed inside the apartment, hearing the door closing as you left your things scattered on the kitchen counter. “Do you want some water?” you asked, trying to mask your tone to sound affable, but the quiver in it betrayed you.

“No, thank you,” the reply came from the other side of the apartment.

Wonwoo hadn’t moved from the entrance. He had returned to fidget with the sleeves of his sweater, not covering his hands wholly. “I only came here to talk. Nothing more.”

A quiet huff came out of your nose. “No, you didn’t,” you said, your voice barely audible.

You could see his frame deflate a little, his eyes quickly assessing your whole demeanor. Wonwoo knew that despite the inability to raise your voice higher, or command yourself to stand boldly in front of him, that he was making a mistake by coming here.

“Whatever it is you have to say, it won’t change things,” you told him, moving from the kitchen towards him. Wonwoo stopped fidgeting when you stood before him, his eyes following every step you took.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

For once, you had no tears left to cry—and were thankful for that. “Why are you here, Wonwoo?” you asked one more time, now with more certainty.

He closed his eyes, sighing in something that made you think that he knew you wouldn’t take this well. “I know you asked for space,” he said. “And I know I’m breaking my promise.”

Wonwoo opened his eyes slowly, as though he had been charging himself with enough valor to do this. To act upon his own words. His lips parted and that was when with horror, you noticed the scar beginning to form on his lower lip. Before you could even ask, or make a comment about it, he noticed where your gaze had wandered.

So he continued, “I can’t keep myself away from you.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, blinking with shock and fury. “It’s been two weeks,” you told him.

“I know,” he replied, and you were instantly broken because of how soft his voice sounded. His eyebrows knitted ever so slightly. “But I just can’t stop thinking…” his voice faded, leaving his mouth slightly agape. His eyes studied you over and over, as though gathering more courage. “I’m sorry that we ended like this. I’m sorry for not stopping this before it was too late.”

The loud drumming of your heart was put to a painful stop. “Do you regret it?” you asked quietly.

The quiet that followed made you think for a second that he’d say yes. That he regretted sleeping with you, and hurting Mingyu. For a moment, you thought he’d say he regretted falling in love with you. And your heart could no longer withstand the heaviness of his hesitation.

 Finally, he exhaled. “No. But I hate that it hurt you.”

The air felt tighten between you. He was standing so close that you could almost sense the smell of his cologne. Peaches and patchouli. Your chest ached.  

You were selfish. You were the reason why this whole thing was happening—why Wonwoo was hurting, why Mingyu was distancing himself.

But part of you wanted to rage. You have been good. You had been trying to stay true to your own heart and give it what little peace you could find. For days, you had been trying to take the first step towards healing, even if you were too scared to face it.

“Wonwoo…” you whispered, the part of you wanting to snap quieted down the second you spoke out his name and he looked at you. “I still don’t know what I want. I still think about Mingyu.”

He blinked slowly, reminding you that he was aware that he wasn’t the only one in your heart. “I know. But I also know that I don’t want to be your backup plan anymore,” he said, not stopping when you flinched at his words. “But what if we’re doing all of this wrong?”

You gaped at him for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He uttered his next words clearly, and unwavering. “What if you didn’t have to choose?”

You kept staring at him, unfazed. Part of you believed that he was joking, that in a second, he’d break character and tell you that he was kidding you and laugh in your face. But no, Wonwoo was being serious.

The words hung in the air, true and honest.

And dangerous to even consider.

“You’re being serious,” you realized, exhaling heavily as you backed away from him. Turning around just to face him again. “I can’t believe you.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line, looking at you as though he was again proved right about previous unspoken suspicions. “You don’t have to give me an answer,” he shrugged. “I’ll give you time to think about it if it’s what you need.”

“How would that even work?” you said, then you blinked exasperatedly. “No. You know what—never mind. I won’t even entertain the idea. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“Fine. That’s fair,” he said, like your entire change in demeanor had snapped him back to reality.

Then—quiet settled in. Stretching between you and causing the space to close in on you again. It was hard to breathe, and the tension in your mind begged you once again to listen to your instincts.

You crossed your arms, taking one step closer to him. “Wonwoo, I get that you feel guilty and remorseful for what happened. I do too. But this won’t solve things.”

As you uttered the last sentence, a sense of insecurity caused a ripple in your mind.

Wonwoo leaned his head to one side, looking at your face like he had found another answer. “Won’t it?” he asked.

You exhaled through your nose. You studied his face in silence, letting your lack of words be your admittance. In that assessment, your gaze stopped again on his lower lip, determining that he’d have had his lip split open the day he walked away from you. Quietly still, your eyes returned to his, and you knew that he had let you look at the damage.

“He did this to you?” you asked softly.

Wonwoo nodded, not shying away from your gaze. But also, something about it made you think that he was also ashamed to admit it.

Your heart twisted painfully. Taking his chin in your hand gingerly, you tilted his head to look at the scar against the light. It had been quite a deep cut, and even if it was already healing, you could tell that it would leave a mark.

“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo,” you mumbled quietly, dropping your hand from his chin.

“It’s not your fault,” Wonwoo quickly said, shaking his head lightly. “We argued, it got heated pretty quickly and he apologized immediately.”

“Are you two okay, then?” you dared to ask.

“We…” he exhaled, giving you a look. “We are just not talking about it. Kind of like when he and Gigi broke up. He’s just quiet. Avoids me at all costs.”

Your eyes began to water. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry Wonwoo,” you whispered.

“Again. Not your fault,” he reassured you with a gentle tone. “He didn’t find out about us from me, so it was headed to a bad ending from the start.”

You blinked. “How did he find out?”

Now the shame was more evident in his eyes. He looked away. “I sort of, uh…” he lowered his head a little. “I kept the photos of you on my computer. Forgot to log out and he accidentally saw them.”

Your gaze also lost focus somewhere in the wall behind Wonwoo, connecting the dots quite quickly in your head. Mingyu had seen the photos, and put them together with the fact that he had seen you and Wonwoo before.

Wonwoo gave you one long and meaningful look. “So he hasn’t… looked for you?” he asked, enunciating each word carefully.

You shook your head, frowning a little. “Why?”

“He disappears sometimes,” Wonwoo told you. “He comes back home, but later than he usually would. I thought…”

Your gaze fell. “I don’t think I’m still in his good graces anymore,” you said, giving him an empty smile.

Wonwoo shook his head lightly. “Don’t think that,” he told you quietly. “He might be upset, but he’s not mad at you.”

“How can you be so sure?” you mumbled.

“He’s my best friend,” Wonwoo asserted, his tone sounding softer than before. “I know him better than anyone else.”

You lowered your gaze to the floor. All those days you kept yourself away from thinking about this mess were simply rendered useless at that moment. You knew why you were so determined to avoid the thought—it was guilt.

“Hey,” Wonwoo whispered. His hand slipped in yours, squeezing it gently to call your gaze back to him. “How are you?”

You blinked at him. “I’m fine,” you whispered, caught off guard.

His eyebrows knitted softly. “You sure?”

You exhaled, letting his fingers slip between yours. He tugged your hand, pulling you closer to his frame. “I’m trying, Wonwoo,” you said, still unable to bring your voice higher. “Two weeks aren’t enough for me to get better.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But maybe you don’t have to do it alone.”

A smile drew on your face. “You sound so cynical,” you accused.

“Do I?” he said, smirking ever so slightly. “Maybe I do sound crazy, but given our history, it might not be the craziest thing we’ve done.”

You rolled your eyes, hating that he was making you smile. “I’m not considering it. I won’t,” you told him.

Wonwoo huffed softly, hearing the uncertainty in your tone. “When you do, give me a call?” he asked, tilting his head to one side and giving you a long look.

You looked at him in disbelief, but a laugh broke through you, heating up your chest. “You’re crazy.”

He pressed his lips into a smile, the sound of your laughter making him look at you sweetly. “I might be crazy,” he whispered. “But I miss you. Part of me wonders if the reason why I feel so empty is because we ended things when we shouldn’t have.”

“Wonwoo.” You couldn’t hide the alarm in your tone. “Listen to yourself. Look at the mess we’ve made. What do you think Mingyu will say when he hears your stupid idea?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pretending to ponder. “I can think of a few things,” he replied, keeping the playfulness he got from seeing your scandalized expression. “When the opportunity presents itself, talk to him. And when you do, tell me what you decide. Deal?”

“Just like that?” you asked, huffing loudly.

He nodded once. “Just like that,” he reaffirmed.

You stared at him, sure that Wonwoo had completely lost his sanity.

But who were you kidding? You had also thought about it. Moments of frenzied madness where you’ve thought about having both men at once, loving them freely at the same time. You would never dare to admit it, not out loud.

Something subtle in your brain told you that Wonwoo already knew about this. He read you well, always did.

“Is that all you came here to say?” you asked, keeping your tone gentle, but it sounded hopeful.  

Wonwoo nodded in silence, swiftly catching the guilt that you tried to mask by running a hand through your hair and looking down at your feet.

“Just that,” he reaffirmed. But you could sense the slight tinge of deception in his words, like he was also hoping for something.

A moment happened between you. It was electrifying—like that moment before he kissed you for the first time. As you both exchanged a glance, you could feel the yearning and desire, both pulled back by a weighted layer of hesitation and guilt. You both wanted to hold each other—you knew this. You knew that he wanted to feel you just as badly as you did.

You were the first to move.

It was just a couple of steps you took towards him, hands grabbing his face as he found your hips. Kissing Wonwoo again for the first time in nights felt a lot more freeing than you thought.

And it was then that you knew—you were never going to learn your lesson.

Wonwoo gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as his lips locked with yours in a seamless dance. You cupped his face in your hands, feeling the incipient hairs of his stubble beneath the pads of your thumbs.

The kiss was gentle, almost as though both of you were afraid to take it beyond that. But it was still intoxicating to have him this close to you, to feel his skin, his lips, his tongue brushing against yours—

He broke the kiss with a soft smacking sound from his lips and yours. “Please tell me you’ll think about it,” he whispered.

You let out an airy hum instead of responding verbally, trying to seek his lips, but he pulled back slightly, making you chase him. “It’s a crazy idea, Wonwoo,” you replied.

“But why does it have to be crazy?” he asked instead, pulling back again but never stopped gripping your waist.

“It’s not normal, nor fair,” you said.

“I can agree it’s not normal, but fair? It is every bit fair for everyone involved,” he responded, his tone low, but you could tell he was amused. Like he’d already figured out every possible argument you might have against.

You rolled your eyes. “Try saying that to Mingyu,” you whispered, shamefully blinking away from his face.

Wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing your gaze back to his. “I will, if you want me to,” he said decisively. “Think about it first. Tell me what you think, and I’ll talk to him.”

“Alright,” you huffed. “Don’t get your hopes high.”

One thing you had never imagined about Jeon Wonwoo was that he was never reckless with his feelings. And when he blinked, his jaw tensing slightly, you saw it. The reminder that you were the most reckless thing he had ever dared to do. And he was allowing himself to hope for you.

“Too late, baby,” he whispered, his eyes glimmering with a slight hurt.

You sighed, a violent shudder shaking your bones when he called you that word. “Wonwoo—”

“I don’t need high hopes,” he said. “Just think about it.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it,” you replied.

He smiled endearingly at you, bending down to place a sweet kiss on your lips. He didn’t have any witty reply—he just gave you a couple of sweet pecks before kissing you deeper. He hummed into the kiss, making you reply in kind. His hand returned to your waist as yours switched from his face to his nape, feeling his slightly longer hair.

“I have to go,” Wonwoo whispered, confirming your idea that he didn’t want to risk advancing things any further.

A heavy feeling sat at the tip of your tongue. But instead, you blurted: “Take care, yeah?”

Wonwoo immediately caught what you had meant instead. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled sweetly. “You too.”

You squeezed your eyelids for one second. In your moment of weakness, you almost tell him to stay a bit longer. And that made you realize that Wonwoo was right. You nodded lightly and slipped your hands from his nape, letting your arms hang at your sides awkwardly. “Yeah, okay,” you whispered. “Bye, Wonwoo.”

But before Wonwoo could take a step back from you, he looked for your lips again by nudging the tip of your nose with his, motioning you to angle your mouth for his. The kiss was gentle, tender, like saying this is goodbye, but not for long. Like two lovers promising to see each other again in just one small moment.

And you wished that to be true as Wonwoo finally found it in himself to peel himself off your lips. You watched him walk out of your apartment, slipping through the door without looking back.

Ever since Mingyu found out about you and Wonwoo, he had been taking his distance. He wished he could say it out of resentment. But in reality, he didn’t know what to do or what to say. Wonwoo had been respecting the invisible line that Mingyu painted, and if anything, that confused Mingyu more.

He craved the conflict, sometimes. He needed something to happen so he could finally remove the thorn stuck in his heart from the day he saw your pictures on Wonwoo’s computer. But he also felt that his hands were tied—you had asked for space to clear your head and heal your heart.

It was a quiet Friday afternoon in The Spot. And this was usually the calm before the storm, so Mingyu took the time to set everything up before more customers arrived.

Some tables were already occupied and served. Chan was sprinting from side to side, making sure everything was perfect, and Mingyu envied the readiness his new co-worker presented. But something inside him knew that this was because it had been so long that he felt something like enthusiasm for his job.

Mingyu used to like his job.

But lately, something had been missing.

With a sigh, Mingyu cast a look to the end of the bar. Wonwoo was busy drying cutlery and glasses, his back turned to him.

In front of him sat Yoon Jeonghan, phone in his hands while he quietly nursed his second beer. From where Mingyu stood, he got a glance at the screen—and his stomach dropped at the sight of his friend’s chat. Jeonghan was rapidly exchanging messages with his girlfriend, and from what Mingyu could get with a flashing glance, they were loving messages.

“Hyung,” Mingyu called, his tone hollow, distracted.

“Mm,” Jeonghan answered, languidly twirling his glass of beer with his lithe fingers before taking a sip.

“You’re the smartest person I know.”

Jeonghan huffed loudly, locking his phone and leaving it on the bar. “You need to go out more. Meet more people.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes in amusement. “Come on,” he said. “You run a successful business—”

“Two, actually,” Jeonghan pointed, motioning the surroundings with his finger. 

“Thanks for proving my point,” Mingyu rolled his eyes, but in annoyance this time.

“If you want advice, Seungcheol is coming back in an hour,” Jeonghan raised his wristwatch, a frown forming on his face. “Well, half an hour.”

“How do you know I want advice?” Mingyu replied.

Jeonghan raised his eyes, scanning Mingyu’s face. “Well, I might not be the smartest person in the world, but I can tell when something stinks,” Jeonghan blinked, sending a furtive look to the end of the bar, where Wonwoo was quietly drying a long row of shot glasses. “And people only want my advice after they know they’re fucked. So.”

“Seungcheol only gives morally upright advice,” Mingyu said under his breath, his heart skipping a beat as Jeonghan’s words sank in.

“Ah, so you are seeking my guidance because I’m morally corrupt?” Jeonghan chuckled, setting his beer down. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“What would you do? In my position,” Mingyu asked, lowering his tone. He knew that if Wonwoo wanted to eavesdrop, he would do it, and Mingyu found out that he didn’t care all that much. “If you found out your best friend got involved with the chick you want, I mean.”

Jeonghan arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting me to say,” he said, his fingers going for the phone he’d left beside his beer.  

“Your honest thoughts,” Mingyu shrugged.

Jeonghan leaned his chin on his fist, blinking slowly as he gathered his words. He pondered for a long second, his slightly drunken gaze swimming to the end of the bar again. “I think that whatever I say, you’ll end up doing whatever the fuck you two want,” Jeonghan said wisely, his gaze returning to Mingyu. “My honest advice is that you two need to talk before you do something irrational.”

Mingyu arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you did?” he asked, a light grin appearing on his face as he leaned on the lacquered bar top. “Would you say you did what’s more rational?”

Working as a bartender in Seungcheol’s bar has taught Mingyu many things about himself and about other people. The curse of the bartender, as Wonwoo would call it, is when people come to The Spot and talk about their sorrows. One of the things Mingyu knew about Jeonghan was that he had been in Wonwoo’s shoes not too long ago.

“Obviously not,” Jeonghan said, rolling his eyes. “I’m giving you the morally upright advice.”

“I want to hear what you’d do,” Mingyu pressed.

“Listen, both of you are idiots for thinking that the right thing is letting go,” Jeonghan said, a wild conviction flashing in his eyes. “You’re both not talking to each other, and you lost the girl. So what was the fucking point of messing things up if neither of you is going to win?”

That opened his eyes to something he hadn’t considered. Mingyu never thought about winning something by walking away from you. He thought he was choosing right, that he was doing what was best for his own heart’s sake. And he also thought that he was doing you a favor by removing himself from the equation.

“Do what you must, but do something,” Jeonghan said, annoyance seeping through his tone. “You’re both avoiding each other like the plague, and for what? For a girl that you’re not even talking to? Might as well try to get the girl back now, if that’s what you want—I don’t know. But do something.”

But what Jeonghan failed to mention—due to the obviousness of it—was that for every action that Mingyu did, there was a consequence. He didn’t want to close the book of years and years of adventures with his best friend. But he also didn’t want to lose you forever, not after daring to love again.

You were alone, yet again.

Your head kept spinning, swirling with uncontrolled thoughts of your very recent discovery. You were crazy, because you had to be. You knew that it was your very messy and complicated heart that had pushed you to do this, but in reality, there was one thing that detonated it all. The one thing that you hated the most, loneliness.

You hated being alone.

And when you needed it the most, Mingyu was there. Also wandering in the very strange journey that was dealing with a broken heart and a lost relationship.

If you could only see his face again, you wished silently. Fingers itched on top of your bedcovers. It was so simple to send him a text, tell him to meet up. Part of you was very shocked by your own egocentric thoughts. Because why would Mingyu ever welcome you back into his life?

You had done something terrible. And you had done it willingly. Sleeping with Mingyu’s best friend was something that even now you would reproach yourself for. But you were lonely, and you were hurt.

And never in your life did you imagine that you would fall in love with Jeon Wonwoo as well.

You sighed, leaving your bed by throwing the bed covers away. You put on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and a hoodie.

The cold air hit your cheeks first, making you bristle and wrap your arms around yourself. You pulled out your phone, letting the pad of your thumb act on its own, stopping right on top of Mingyu’s contact.

You had to be insane.

You shook your head and kept walking, putting your phone back into the pocket of your hoodie. You were running away from it, from the thoughts, from your conversation with Wonwoo and how it had left you feeling.

The hairs in your arms stood up at the memory of his lips touching yours. The softness of his kiss. Wonwoo knew how to treat you right—he understood you to a level that you had never been understood. You felt safe with him.

You knew where you were going. Even though it felt like you were escaping from facing the mental turmoil, you were also running straight towards it.

You stopped in front of the bar. The Spot was dimmed, shut due to the late hours into the night, instead of shining in bright neon red lights like it did in business hours.

You kept walking.

The basketball court sat empty, as you were half-expecting it to be. Within your conversation with Wonwoo, one thing had stuck out—Mingyu usually came home later after closing up the bar. Wonwoo never dared to ask him, never knew where Mingyu went, to the point that Wonwoo thought that Mingyu was visiting you at night.

But you were right.

Mingyu was sitting alone in the bleachers. His head was bowed slightly, and he appeared to have headphones on. He had one foot propped up in the next seat, his elbow perched on his knee. 

Your heart sank to your stomach.

You approached him with a careful step, thinking that if he sees you too late you might startle him. So you slowed down, and in that, you took him in. You really looked at him. Despite half of his face being hidden from your point of view, you noticed the faint lines of his furrowed brow. Your heart crushed, knowing that he probably didn’t want to be at home either.

He was running away too.

Like a work of magic, he lifted his head, sensing you close. The lines of his brow eased instantly, and your heart started racing. Mingyu removed his headphones from his head, letting them fall onto his shoulders.

You were within arm’s length now. Standing in front of him, you waited for the words to come, you waited for the momentum that would carry your body to his arms. But something stopped you.

“Hi, Mingyu,” you said shyly, not avoiding his eyes but also not feeling brave enough to make eye contact.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. The question came out sweet, worried. “Are you okay?”

You were brimming with energy. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw your arms around him. You wanted to ask for his forgiveness.

But you didn’t.

“I’m okay,” you replied, voice breaking weakly. “Are you?”

He nodded with his head, his eyes roaming all over the features of your face to look for any signs that you were being honest. It pinched at your heart, but it was also deserved. “I’m okay,” he mimicked you, even swallowing hard to clear his throat.

“Do you want to talk?” you asked softly, hopeful.

Mingyu’s gaze went soft, and he nodded. He pushed himself to one side on the bleachers, leaving his previous spot for you to sit on it. It was warm, just like his body now beside you. You sat awkwardly, placing your hands on both sides and looked at him.

Your chest tightened when you saw his beautiful face. Even under the dark moonless sky, his skin still seemed to glow. “You look tired,” you mumbled, fighting off the itch in your fingers. You wanted to touch, to feel his warmth on your skin again.

“Yeah,” he croaked, blinking away.

You tore your gaze from his worn eyes and looked to the front. The empty space of the basketball court caused something to ache in your chest. A memory that was still stuck in your heart like a thorn.

“I’m sorry, Mingyu,” you said, your throat closing up, robbing you of your voice.

Through the corner of your eye, you saw Mingyu nodding silently. He licked his lips and lowered his head, looking straight down at the bottom of the bleachers.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he whispered, but there was bitterness layered to that question. An intended meaning of it.  

Your chest tightened. “No,” you replied, choking up now in your tears. But you swallowed hard, determined to get this through without crying.

“Why?” Mingyu asked, his tone low and raw with emotion.

You turned to him just as he raised his gaze to look at you. “Because I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you said, sounding hollow. You were brimming with so many things at once that you didn’t know what to do with your body. So you sat there, hugging yourself.

Mingyu blinked a couple of times, eyebrows knitting softly. “But I told you I did. Many times I told you how much I—”

“You walked away,” you whispered, your voice quivering now. “You left me right when I was falling in love with you.”

He shut his eyes for a moment. Like that alone was the reason why he didn’t want to go back home every night. That was the reason why he came to sit at the basketball court. “I wanted you,” he said. Blinking slowly to continue looking at your face. “So much that it scared me.”

Your throat closed. “I was scared too,” you whispered, heart clenching painfully at the memory. “I opened myself up to you. Mingyu, I was ready to give you everything you wanted from me, and I was happy with whatever piece of you I could have.”

Mingyu bristled again, his facial features contracting slightly. “Were you, really? Happy?” he asked, leaning toward you. 

You nodded stubbornly. “All I wanted was you.”

He gulped hard. “I couldn’t give you what you wanted,” he told you. “And I’m sorry that it hurt you the way that it did.”

Your tears finally spilled, and you blinked slowly. “Me too,” you whispered, using your sleeve to wipe your face. “And Wonwoo was... he was there for me. I didn’t plan it, neither of us did,” you looked at him just as he looked away. “But I needed to feel something again.”

He nodded slowly. “I get it. I do. But he’s my best friend,” he said, like each word was lodged into his heart. He was tense, and you knew it was pain that he felt.

You sniffled. “I know. It was wrong. I should’ve waited…” You choked out, shaking your head. “But it was too late by then.”

Mingyu tore his gaze away from you, turning his head to the opposite side where you sat. He was breathing unevenly now, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you had made him angry. But you needed this—closure. You both did.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, unsure if he would be able to hear it.

You sat there beside him, waiting for him to do something, say something. But he didn’t. Minutes passed, and you were sure now that the conversation had ended in silence. But you stayed there a second longer, trying to enjoy the warmth emanating from his body, trying to pretend that he and you were still friends.

Something you learned from him is to know where to leave things alone. Gathering some strength, you rose from the bleachers and climbed down to the concrete floor to start walking away. You didn’t mean to look back, but you did.

Mingyu was climbing down the bleachers, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked straight to you.

“Mingyu?”

“I’m not letting you walk back home alone,” he said. A hint of resignation coating his tone as he looked to one side.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay,” you said, knowing that he was doing this because he couldn’t let you walk away. “Do you forgive me then?” you asked coyly.

Mingyu huffed, trying to conceal his smile. He shook his head in disbelief, but he didn’t say no to your question.

So you walked with Kim Mingyu, side by side under the black, moonless sky. You sneaked a look at your side, finding him still crestfallen and looking at his feet, hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie. Your heart squeezed when your shoulder brushed against his arm. His pace was slow, taking pauses every time you felt like you needed to catch up with him.

When you both reached your building, you stopped at the door, searching for words to say. You hesitated, but in the end, you just raised your eyes to find his: “I really am sorry, Mingyu,” you said, voice cracking under the weight of everything.

Mingyu paused, his eyes searching for yours. “Me too.”

The air felt tight in your lungs. You wanted to reach out to him, hug him like the last time you saw him.

It felt really strange—wanting two people at once. You didn’t want one more than the other. It was just a different kind of love you had for them both. Was it wrong of you to love two men at the same time?

With one breath, Mingyu had his own resolve. Whatever he was thinking, whatever had kept him up all night and far from his bed was put to rest with the two steps he took towards you. His hands slipped under your jaw, cupping your face, and then his mouth crashed against yours.

You barely had time to suck in a tiny breath. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It tasted like nights of wasted time thinking about you, love and resentment, desperately colliding, melting in one fiery, messy kiss. Your fingers twisted into his hoodie, dragging your body closer to his instead of pulling away. His hands slipped from your jaw to your nape, cradling your head in his hands.

And he was everything. He was warmth, honesty, and raw passion.

Mingyu wasn’t holding back. His tongue outlined your lower lip, and you parted your mouth to give him access. A hum escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours, and he responded immediately with a choked sound of his own. Your hands slipped from his chest and found his neck, linking your arms around his shoulders to support yourself.

You felt dizzy, shaken. But also, so extremely overjoyed.

It was the need for air that pulled you apart. You were both breathing hard, his forehead pressed against yours. His thumbs brushed your cheekbones shakily, like he couldn’t help himself and touch you.

“Have a good night,” he mumbled, his voice sounding raw. Raspy.

Your heart stuttered. Your hand flew to grab his wrist. “Wait—” you gasped. “Don’t go.”

He took in a shaky breath. “I can’t,” he whispered, his hands cradling your head still as he pushed his forehead against yours a bit more, as though he wanted to renounce his own rationale and give in to you. “I can’t do this.”

You shuddered at the thought of him leaving, of taking his warmth with him. “If you want me—if you really want me, prove it,” you challenged him, ignoring how your voice quivered. “Come upstairs? Please.”

“If I go upstairs with you, it’s done,” he said, his voice gruff. “I won’t be able to put distance between you and me.”

“Mingyu—” you nearly sobbed with a wanton need that melted into your bones. “You know I don’t want that.”

A part of you wondered if there was an end to this game. To this endless push and pull you had with your heart. You wanted Mingyu. You wanted Wonwoo. And this game was laughing in your face—you had been wrong all along. It wasn’t about choosing one or the other. It wasn’t even about choosing yourself anymore.

This game was about putting you three on the same page.

Testing him, you pushed yourself to your tiptoes, using your hands around his shoulders for support. Your lips found his, and he reciprocated the kiss by locking his lips with your own. The kiss was wet, fleeting, but hot.

“Come upstairs with me, Mingyu,” you whispered, but your command was firm.

He slipped his hands from your nape, his breath fanning against your mouth before he pushed himself off you with a sigh. “Okay,” he replied in kind, nodding with his head.

You grabbed his hand, pushing the door open to your building and pretty much avoided looking at him on the flight upstairs. You didn’t want to see in his face any signs of doubt, even though you knew there wouldn’t be any.

It was nerve-wracking, to have him in your space again after so many nights of being alone, after so many nights of having Wonwoo in your bed too.

Once again, Mingyu made your apartment shrink. He was tall, yes. But it was as though his very presence illuminated everything around you. And to think that there was a time you clung to him like he was your lifeline. He was your sun, your warmth.

And he was here again.

Mingyu looked around your place as you got the lights. “You bought more plants?” he asked softly, pinching the large leaf of your monstera plant that was sitting next to the window.

You were turning the lamp by the corner, liking the nice orange halo it created against the wall. “I figured that I might as well get more hobbies, they distract me,” you shrugged, your heart stuttering at how sad that sounded.

“And did it work? Getting more plants,” he asked. There was genuine curiosity in his tone, reflected in his eyes as he surveyed the wall covered by pots, large and small, to the counter-corner to where you stood, where another plant hung from the ceiling.

“I mean, you can only water them so much,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile.

Mingyu responded to you with a downturned smile. “So that’s why you’ve turned your apartment into a mini garden?”

“Look, I’m not crazy, I just needed to pay attention to something else and the graphic design course was not enough,” you said, turning around and heading to the open kitchen. “It was either this or getting a cat.”

“I’m not saying you are crazy,” Mingyu said, following your footsteps until he reached the kitchen as well.

You swallowed hard. He made the already small space look tiny. “Want a glass of water?” you asked shakily, pointing your thumb in the direction of the kitchen sink.

Mingyu placed a hand on one of the counters, shaking his head. His dark eyes were on you, assessing you carefully, like picking up every single mannerism, every single emotion showing on your face.

You ran a hand through your hair, shaky fingers detangling your messy strands. “Are you hungry? I can cook something,” you asked, motioning to the fridge.

Mingyu nodded this time, but he was already moving. He took only one step towards you, his hands quickly grabbing you by the waist and turning your front to him. You let out a tiny yelp, unable to say anything because he was already putting you back against the kitchen counter, pinning you with his body.

“Gyu—” you gasped, hands landing on his shoulders.

He crushed his mouth against yours. A sound came out of you along with an exhale, which was completely muffled by his lips on yours.

“We have a lot of catching up to do,” he told you with a gruff breath.

“Yes, we do,” you whispered, running your hands down his shoulders, reaching his chest.

Mingyu tilted his head to one side. “Do you want to catch up before or after?” he asked you tacitly.

You felt your eyebrows knitting, confusion washing over you. “After we eat?” you asked dumbly. But as the double entendre dawned on you, you let out a meek giggle.

Mingyu mirrored your laughter, the sound coming out of his mouth causing your tummy to flutter. “Yes,” he whispered, grabbing you by the chin to kiss you, leaving a sound of his lips smacking against yours. “After we eat.”

“Mmf,” you hummed, the sound yet again drowned by his mouth. And then, he was kissing you with such abandon you were sure he was making up for lost time, as though his lips and yours were greeting each other like old friends, lost lovers.

You loved him. The realization wasn’t like all the other times you had to face this fact. This time, it was like finding a reason for every single tantrum and mistake you made in the past. Your love for him wasn’t just your fight to not be alone or to fill the void following you around everywhere you went.

You wanted him to be a part of your life; you wanted to meet him in ways you had not done yet.

Before, both his and your pain were so big that they bled through the push and pull you both had. It made you believe that it was normal to have no expectations, to make no promises. But now, acknowledging that pain made it easier to accept that you were in love with him, and you wanted it.

You were scared, yes, but so was he.

And acknowledging it was so much more freeing.

You pulled back slightly, and Mingyu’s lips chased you like magnets. He captured your lips with his own swiftly, briefly. “I missed you,” you let out, the sound honeyed and small.

“I missed you too,” he said, kissing you back again in the same manner. “You have no idea. I saw you everywhere I went, I dreamed about you every night.”

You giggled shyly. “Stop it, Mingyu,” you whispered.

“I mean it,” he whispered, his hands on your hips clenching you softly over your clothes. He sighed, bending his head so his forehead touched yours. “It drove me crazy to know that I had lost you. I let you go, and it was the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made.”

Your chest tightened at the sound of his words. This was what you ached to hear from the moment he broke things off with you months ago. And yet, it seemed like an entire lifetime had passed.

“You didn’t lose me,” you said softly, swallowing hard. “I still love you.”

Your hands were still parked on his chest, and beneath your fingertips, you could feel the light vibrations of his pulse. Mingyu shuddered at your confession, a tiny sigh spilling through his parted lips.

He didn’t answer, at least not verbally. His hand slipped beneath your chin, propping it on his fingers so he could angle your mouth to his. He kissed you again, this time softer. And you knew—he still loved you too.

Mingyu kissed you passionately, heatedly. He was a man in love and was not holding back anymore. Pressing his front to yours, he pinned your back against the kitchen counter, trapping your lips as well with his. It was all him—he was all you tasted, all you breathed. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, getting you drunk quickly.

Reason slipped your mind, leaving nothing but the wanton need still melting in your bones. You didn’t think, just acted. Your hands slid from his shoulders down his torso, feeling his hard muscles over his hoodie. You fumbled with the hem of his clothes for a split second, then stopped yourself.

“Do it,” he whispered, taking a fleeting pause from your lips for you to obey him, hiking his hoodie up his torso. Mingyu lifted his arms for you as you got rid of his black hoodie, letting it drop on the floor. Then his t-shirt was next, and there was no hesitation from you this time. And the sight of his t-shirt coming of sent a shudder down your spine. 

You wanted him naked. You wanted to feel him again.

And he wanted the same with you too. He started with your zipper hoodie, getting rid of it only to find that you wore only your bra beneath it.

There was a smirk on his face as he leaned in to give you a kiss. “I like this on you,” he whispered gruffly, running a finger over the cup of your lace bra.

You shuddered, the feeling running straight to your core. “Yeah? Do you want to take it off me, Gyu?”

He nodded. “These first,” he said, pinching the waistband of your sweatpants.

You helped him with eagerness, hooking your thumbs beneath the waistband and tugging your sweatpants down your legs. But before you could step out of them, Mingyu was already grabbing you by the waist, lifting you and setting you down on the kitchen counter.

You felt the tip of his tongue on your bottom lip before his lips captured yours. You choked back a moan, cupping his face in your hands as he parted your thighs for him to slot himself in the middle. With his hands on the back of your knees, he scooted you to the edge of the kitchen counter.

“Gyu,” you moaned, his lips leaving yours to trail down your jawline.

“Mm,” he hummed back, kissing your neck, your throat, laughing faintly when he felt you swallowing hard.

“God—” you whispered shakily as he licked your skin, giving you a broad stroke from your collarbone to the curve of your neck. Your fingers curled, arms landing on his shoulders as he continued his descent down your body, exploring it again with his hands and lips. 

His fingers found the band of your bra, pulling back to look at your face right before he tugged the clasp free. And you put on a small show for him, biting your bottom lip, concealing your smile as your thumbs hooked around the straps and dragged them down your shoulders.

The corner of his mouth curled softly, his eyes outlining the features of your face briefly before he looked at your chest, before you stripped it for his view. You threw the bra on the floor as Mingyu cupped your tits in his big hands, squeezing them gently, fingertips dipping onto your skin.

You sighed upon feeling the warmth in his touch, blinking slowly as goosebumps appeared all over your skin, your arms, your chest. 

Mingyu smiled softly, his breath fanning your skin as he bent over to place a wet, open kiss on your heart. He went even lower, using his hands to push your tits to his face—almost as though he wanted to bury his face in your chest.

One of your hands found the back of his head, raking his scalp with your fingernails as he kissed your skin. Then he popped one of your nipples into his mouth, letting his tongue lap around it, humming at the taste of your skin.

Your thighs tensed, pleasure coursing through you as he suckled your nipple quite loudly, the wet sound bouncing against the walls of your tiny apartment. Another shudder shot down your spine when the situation crashed on you—there you were, sitting on your kitchen counter, wearing nothing but your panties and Mingyu between your thighs, kissing your tits.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, delighting yourself over the sound of his name rolling off your tongue like this again.

Somehow, he understood what you wanted. One of his hands slipped between your thighs, as you tilted your pelvis towards him. His hand slipped over your clothed pussy, the pads of his fingers pushing against your mound, rubbing your sensitive clit over your panties.

Mingyu tilted his head back to look at your face as he moved his hand in circles against your already pulsating cunt. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice already gruff with pleasure.

“You,” you whispered, slipping your hands to cup the back of his head. “I want you,” you told him.

“Yeah?” he replied, lifting his brows slightly. “Do you want my cock, baby?” he asked.

You shuddered, head spinning with the motion of his fingers pressed against your mound. “Yes,” you replied, the sound coming out whiny, sickly sweet: “Take me.”

Mingyu pursed his lips as he hummed, mocking your tone, almost as though finding you cute. “Do you want me to fuck this pussy?” he asked, rubbing circles on your clit slightly harder.

You gasped, angling your cunt to his hand. “Yeah,” you said, scooting an inch closer to the edge of the counter. “Please.”

He smiled softly when you drew the string of his joggers, his gaze following your hands as you pushed both his joggers and his boxers, letting him step out of them. Now that he was finally naked, it was like you were nearly choking with your own desire.

Your hands acted on their own, circling on his cock. A sigh escaped you. Part of you had forgotten how big he was, lengthy, girthy, heavy. You began stroking him with both hands, feeling the softness of the skin of his shaft, the small veins trailing below his bulbous, darkened cockhead.

Mingyu sighed with pleasure, but he didn’t stop himself from pulling you from the back of your knees, parting your legs further. His fingers picked the crotch of your panties, pushing them aside and placing them carefully between the small fold of your outer lips and your groin.

“Hold onto the counter,” he instructed you, his tone raw, melted in desire.

You stopped stroking him and placed both of your hands at your sides, holding onto the edge of the kitchen counter. Mingyu grabbed his cock with one hand while the other rested on your thigh, grabbing you softly as he guided his cockhead to your sopping pussy. He notched your entrance at first, testing you.

“Mingyu, just do it,” you urged when he glanced at your face.

He grinned at the sound of your words.

But he gave in to you anyway, pushing his cock inside you slowly without looking away from your eyes. His mouth dropped slightly as your walls wrapped around his cock, already pulsating around him. “Fuck,” he mouthed, blinking slowly.

You sighed a moan. The bite of his cock stretching your walls was deliriously good—it brought tears to your eyes, it made your fingers coil and your thighs tense.

Mingyu felt it—he felt your body bristle in pain and pleasure. “Baby,” he gasped.

“I’m good,” you replied before he could even ask. “Move, Gyu. Fuck me,” you mewled.

You didn’t need to ask twice. He pushed his hips against you, bottoming out on you completely, stuffing you full of his cock. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he started rutting his hips against you, pushing his fat cock in and out of you at a steady pace. Mingyu wasn’t testing you anymore—he was just taking you.

“God, Gyu, just like that,” you sighed in pleasure, letting your head tilt back as you enjoyed the feeling of having him inside you. He was so big that the sting was quickly replaced with sweet, intoxicating pleasure.

Everything was him. He was everywhere. You picked the smell of his cologne lingering on his skin, the smell of his hair, his warmth, the tiny grunts he made, everything.

He tucked his hands beneath your ass, lifting you from the counter in one effortless move. You gasped, but didn’t stop holding onto the edge, now he was supporting half of your weight in his arms, that way he could fuck you to his heart’s content.

And that he did. Mingyu started thrusting listlessly, the unmistakable sound of sex flooded the room—his hips snapping against you, along with his agitated gasps, and your sweet moans. Not only that, but you were so fucking wet that you could hear the squelching sounds of your pussy each time Mingyu pushed his cock inside you.

You let him take you, arching your back as pleasure coursed through you. “Harder,” you gasped lewdly. And Mingyu grunted, giving it to you obediently, pushing his hips even harder, faster, calculatedly. “Yes, fuck, yes, yes,” you mewled, dropping your mouth open as sweet, raunchy moans escaped you.

You had no care in the world. Fuck the neighbors, fuck whoever heard you have the best sex of your life. Pleasure invaded you, robbing you of your better judgement. “Mingyu!” you moaned.

The sound Mingyu let out was like nothing you had heard him utter. It was a deep moan, raw and raspy. You saw his face, riddled with desire in his half-lidded eyes, his parted lips, and the deeply furrowed brow.

“I’m gonna cum,” he said. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he repeated more urgently.

“Inside me,” you told him. “Please, Gyu, do it inside me,” you said, your tone now more pathetic.

Mingyu grunted again, the sound driving you a little crazier. The tension on his face eased, and through his lips came out the sweetest of moans. He blinked slower and you knew he was cumming, his moans became longer and weaker. “Fuck,” he whispered, blinking slowly at you.

He lowered you back on the kitchen counter, letting his head fall onto your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He kissed your shoulder, then the curve of your neck. “You’re mine,” he said. “No one else’s.”

Your heart deflated. “Gyu,” you said, your tone sounding alarmed.

He lifted his head from your shoulder. “Just for tonight,” he whispered. Then a light grin appeared on his face. “I’m usually good at sharing… but not when it comes to you, apparently.”

You blinked, gaze roaming all over the features of his sweaty face. Then your heart eased. “That’s okay,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” he mouthed, his gaze trailing down to your lips. “Are you okay with that?”

You nodded, unable to speak now.

Mingyu found your cheek, cupping it with his hand while still trying to catch his breath. “The good thing is, I’m a fast learner,” he said, offering you a small smile.

“Mingyu, now is not the time to talk about this,” you told him, giggling softly at the situation you were in.

“Is it not?” he said, sighing tiredly as he pulled out of you gently. You shuddered and shook your head, making him giggle while asking, “Why?”

“We’re literally naked in my kitchen right now, and we just had sex,” you said with an obvious tone, but you ended up giggling goofily.

Mingyu smiled at the sound of you laughing. “Right,” he whispered, bending down to kiss your forehead, then the tip of your nose as you tilted your head back for him to kiss you in the lips. “You didn’t get to cum.”

“And whose fault is that?” you said with a playful tone.

“Mmn, hold tight, baby. I’m going to fix it,” he said.

You circled your arms around his neck while he lifted you off the counter again. For a second, you thought he was going to take you to the bed, or the couch, like he’s done other times in the past.

But then you felt the hard surface of your table. Your heart sank, arms tightening around his shoulders.

“Relax, I’ve got you,” he said with a confident smirk, his dark eyes outlining your face.

“Okay,” you whispered nervously.

“Sit back,” he motioned with his head.

You placed your hands behind you, leaning your body back as Mingyu dropped down to his knees. He pushed his hands against your inner thighs, spreading them open as he licked the outer lips of your pussy.

“Oh, god,” you let out a sigh, running your fingers through his short hair. “Fuck, Gyu,” you said.

Mingyu just lifted his puppy eyes to yours, kissing and licking your inner thighs right before sucking a love bite onto your skin. You hissed and winced again, but now in complete pleasure, watching him mark your thighs, mark you as his.

After leaving a red, tingling mark on your inner thigh, he switched back to your pussy, lapping his tongue on your folds, quickly finding your swollen clit. He kissed it once, eagerly wrapping his lips around it and tugging it, teasing it more with his lips and tongue. 

He knew how to make you cum with his mouth, so you understood he was taking his sweet time and not giving you an orgasm right away. He was just getting you closer to the edge. 

You couldn’t stop watching him, his mouth on your cunt, licking and biting and kissing. Mingyu hummed and moaned against it, as though eager to please, eager to eat your pussy out. Then he stopped suckling at your engorged clit, throwing a glance at you before resuming to lick your folds, not shying away from licking his own cum dripping from your entrance.

In fact, you saw him curving his tongue against your ruined pussy, licking your cream and his cum. You let out a raw moan, the sight of him licking his cum off your pussy nearly sent you to the edge. 

But he rose to his feet, bringing a hand to your nape and pulling your head back by your hair quite roughly.

You instinctively opened your mouth for him before he spat his cum into your mouth. “Swallow,” Mingyu said, his tone raw, still gruff with desire.

You swallowed, tasting yourself and him in your tongue right before he leaned over and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, letting your hands roam all over his chest and torso, feeling his warm skin.

And he was doing the same, his hands feeling your thighs, your waist, your tits. One of his hands sneaked between your legs, his fingers pressing against your clit once again and rubbing circles on it a couple of times before sinking two of his fingers inside you.

You moaned. The feeling wasn’t even close to having his cock, but as he started to thrust his fingers inside your walls, everything went blank. “Oh—fuck. Mingyu!” you gasped.

He placed his hand on your lower back, while the other moved his fingers inside you quite roughly. He found a spot in your walls that had you wailing out, raw and animalistic, and he just started thrusting his fingers listlessly.

Your thighs began shaking uncontrollably, sighs and moans escaping you until you were making pathetic sounds with your mouth. “God, Mingyu, yes, yes,” you cried out pathetically, his fingers bringing you to a quick and brutal orgasm. You were a panting, blabbering mess as your orgasm shattered you completely.

“Fuck!” you squealed as hot liquid gushed from you uncontrollably, splashing all over Mingyu’s hand, his wrist and his forearm, landing all over him.

He was completely captured by you, fascination read on his face, his lust-filled eyes outlining every curve of your body. He smiled when you screamed his name and squirted all over him, like it was a mission he was fulfilling, and it probably was. And when he pulled his fingers out, your eyes widened at the sight of the creamy ring around his middle and ring fingers, down to the knuckles of his hand.

But he didn’t let that distract him. He looked around you, grabbing his phone quickly. “Can I do something crazy?” he asked.

A question formed on your lips, stopping at the tip of your tongue when you saw him raising his phone in front of him—camera lens pointed at your naked body.

You were trying to catch your breath. But ended up nodding. “Go ahead,” you said breathlessly. 

As Mingyu took the photo, you wondered what it would look like. You were sitting on the small round table, wearing nothing but panties. A complete mess, wet and shaking. And when he turned the phone screen to you, you saw he hadn’t captured your face in the frame, just from your lips and below. But it was very evident that this was your body—your thick thighs, the curve of your waist, your beautiful tits. You had never seen yourself like that in your life—you were hot.

“Oh, god,” you said with half a giggle. “I’m shaking,” you said shyly, trying to hide your face from his eyes as you tried to bring some control to your trembling arms and legs.

“Come here,” he mumbled, wasting no time and scooping you from the table. He diligently carried you bridal style straight to the bed, placing you across the mattress.

“We gotta shower,” you told him as you followed him with your eyes.

Mingyu nodded, crawling on top of you. “Later,” he sighed, bending over your body to kiss your face. “I’m not done with you, sweetheart,” he said.

Your entire body became ablaze with the way he called you. You kissed him back, finding his face with your hands as his lips moved to kiss your cheek. “You still have energy for more?” you asked curiously. Mingyu was tired, you knew it from the moment you’d found him on the basketball court.

“Mmm-hmm,” he nodded, kissing underneath your jaw. “Gotta prove my worth,” he murmured.

“Do you really wanna go there, Mingyu?” you asked, keeping your tone gentle.

“Yes, I do,” he replied, his tone low and raspy, resembling a growl. His dark gaze shot up, glancing at you. “You let my best friend have you, and you thought it wouldn’t drive me crazy?”

Your heart sank, but the mischievous grin on his face showed you that he was half-messing with you. 

The shame you felt turned into something else. “I didn’t think you’d care,” you bit back.

“Really?” he sighed, the smile stretching on his face. An eyebrow quirked up. “You thought I wouldn’t care that another man had what’s mine?”

You outlined the features of his face with the tip of your finger, trailing from his cheekbone and down to his jawline, slowly. “Am I?” you whispered, trying your best to sound sultry. But instead you came off sweet. “Am I yours?”

The look in his eyes turned playful, almost endearing, as though the sound of your voice had melted the ugly feeling taking over him. But the cunning was still in his demeanour as he planted a kiss on your chin. “Tell me you didn’t think of us,” he mumbled softly, planting another kiss on your jawline. “Tell me you didn’t think of me all those nights Wonwoo was here.”

You closed your eyes as he landed another kiss, this time down your neck, using two fingers below your chin to angle your head for him. “I didn’t think of you,” you said, your voice turning into honey.

You felt his lips twitch into a triumphant smile as he lowered himself to kiss your chest. “You’re a bad liar.”

“It’s the truth,” you said, shuddering under his sweet and wet kisses.

“Not even once?” he taunted. You blinked to see his face as he reached your tits, his hands cupping them and making them bulge against his face. He sank his nose between the crevice of your bulging tits, kissing your skin as his thumbs swirled around your nipples.

A broken sigh escaped through your lips. It was futile, you knew. All those nights that Wonwoo was in your bed, you did think of Mingyu. Thoughts ridden by guilt, longing and sometimes even desire. The times you touched yourself thinking of them both, the times you even compared how they fucked.

“Sometimes,” you hissed softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the gentle kisses he was leaving on your tits.

Mingyu hummed against your prickled skin, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples to suckle at it, his tongue pressing against your sensitive bud. You moaned, the sound tiny and sweet.

He stopped briefly, creating a near sinful sound when his mouth detached from your nipple. “Did you, sweetheart?” he asked, pushing you to go on, to tell him more. You knew it was fueling his pride, his ego.

“Yeah,” you mewled, arching your back as he switched his mouth to suck on your other nipple. The feeling of his tongue on you built an ache inside you quite quickly, and you moaned.

“Did you miss me? Mn?” he asked, sliding his hands from your tits, stopping at the band of your ruined panties. He tugged your panties down as he sat back on his knees to look at your body sprawled for him.

You nodded slowly, lifting your feet from the bed so he could slide your panties down to your ankles. He discarded them to one side, using his hands to caress your calves, your thighs, motioning them open for him.

You watched him as he crawled back on top of your body, slotting his hips between your thighs and pressing his chest on yours. “How did it feel?” he asked, a dark urge taking over him as the questions got sharper, closer to a weak spot in your heart. “Mn? Did you think about us while you had another man inside you?”

Far from creating a bitter feeling inside you, it made your blood heat up. You were falling into his game, and it was hard to untangle yourself from it. “No,” you whispered. And before your own desire to submit to him betrayed you, it was defiance that made you act first. “Sometimes, I’d think of you. But other times, Wonwoo would come here and fuck me so I wouldn’t have the energy to miss you.”

And with that, you understood what Mingyu wanted.

He saw through your lie and spotted your intention of playing his game—rile him up. He flashed you a grin, showing you one of his perfect fangs. “And did you like it, baby? Did he fuck you good?”

You nodded again. “But I would still miss you,” you confessed guiltily.

Mingyu faltered for a split second, seeing in your eyes that you were telling him the truth. Something changed in him because he leaned in to kiss you slowly, softly pressing his lips against yours. “I missed you, too. All the time,” he whispered. “I would see you every time I closed my eyes.”

Your heart nearly gave out at his words.

But Mingyu distracted you swiftly, grinding his hips against you gently, making you feel his growing boner against your lower tummy. A broken moan escaped you, gaze flitting to find him. “Gyu—” you muttered.

“Feel that?” he breathed, closing the space between his mouth and yours to give you a swift kiss. “Do you like that my dick gets so hard for you?”

You knew why he spoke to you like that. It drove you crazy. You nodded, a whiny sound escaping you. “Uh-huh.”

“You ready for more, baby?” he asked. And when you nodded, he just switched his hips over yours, his hard cock wedging between your pussy lips, teasing you some more. You gasped, nodding as you tucked your hand between his body and yours, taking his cock and guiding it to your entrance.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you gasped, feeling the bulbous head of his cock in your pooling entrance, and then he pushed in, stretching you again nicely, slowly. You lifted your feet off the mattress, moving your knees to your sides and angling your hips for him to fuck you deeper, and deeper.

“I know,” he breathed, the sound ragged, lazy. “Feels so good,” he drawled, thrusting inside you languidly.

You nodded dumbly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as he massaged your walls with his fat cock. His mouth dropped open as tiny, broken sighs escaped through. You were both captured by the fiery pleasure, looking into each other’s eyes as your body and his spoke to each other again after being distanced for so long.

You loved this. You loved him.

“Mingyu—” you moaned, swallowing hard.

He heard the urgency in your tone, the sweetness in it created by the pleasure you were feeling. He groaned loudly, pulling his body back to sit on his knees, but without separating his body from yours completely.

You cried out at the change, but Mingyu didn’t let you get used to it. His hands came to the back of your knees, pushing your thighs to your chest before he drove his cock deeper into you.

“Fuck—!” you gasped, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Yes, baby, feel it,” Mingyu replied, his tone raspy. He pushed his body against the back of your thighs, putting the back of your knees on his shoulders, and quite literally folding you for him to fuck.

Your hands held onto his forearms as he placed his hands at each of your sides. “Fuck, Gyu,” you whined, unable to do anything with your body now that he caged it entirely.

“You feel so good,” Mingyu whispered, turning his face to kiss the inner side of one of your knees. He closed his eyes slowly, letting out a raw moan as he pushed his cock in and out of you. 

And you wished you could find the words to tell him just how good he felt. The way that he pushed his cock inside you, massaging and stretching your walls, reaching so deep to the point it was making you cry. 

“You’re so wet, baby. You feel it?” he said, and you nodded quite aloofly. You were hearing his words, but you had completely dissolved into pleasure. “You feel how your pussy gets so wet for me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, the sound so sweet and pathetic.

There was a shadow of a smile on his face, but you couldn’t appreciate it fully. “That’s because it’s mine,” he whispered, and despite the meaning of his words, he sounded sweet. Almost endearing.

You nodded, almost to the rhythm of the jackhammering of his hips. “Yeah,” you parroted again in the same lewd tone.

“Yeah?” Mingyu pressed, now smiling fully at how dumb you were made by his cock. “Is this pussy mine, baby?”

He started to push harder, even deeper. His body was still caging yours, his chest pressed to the back of your thighs—the bedframe started to groan, the headboard was slamming against the wall. You let out a whiny cry, nodding with your head again.

“Say it,” he whispered raggedly, enjoyment flashing on his dark eyes.

“It’s yours,” you said breathlessly. Warm shame filling your face and neck, sizzling beneath your skin.  

But it made Mingyu moan and blink slowly at you without letting the pace of his thrusts ease up. And maybe he knew that was what you needed, because pleasure quickly built back up inside you, taking over you entirely. The mixture of shame, humiliation and submission flipped something inside you—it made you want to chase more of it.

“It’s yours, Mingyu,” you repeated, this time knowing how obscene you sounded.

Mingyu let out a long, raspy moan. His ragged breath told you he was close to cumming again, but he didn’t stop. 

“I’m yours,” you whispered, and then repeated it over and over again, enjoying the way he reacted to your words.

He was driving his fat cock into you desperately, his thrusts robbing you of air, filling you with so much pleasure you felt on the verge of passing out.

“Mingyu…” you mumbled faintly, closing your eyes and letting the fiery waves of your second orgasm take you. You didn’t care about anything—you didn’t care that your moans were loud, or that you sounded like a blabbering mess. All that you cared about was that you were having the best orgasm of your life.

And Mingyu was giving it to you.

You heard him moan with you and cuss beneath his breath. And it was when your orgasm started to subside that his thrusts slowed down, turning sloppy. You opened your eyes, finding Mingyu’s face riddled with a mixture of pleasure and fatigue, his mouth hanging open and eyebrows knitting softly.

He blinked languidly, a sigh coming out of him as you nodded to him. His eyes bore into you as he cummed inside you again, and something about that look he gave you told you that there was more than he was letting on. 

He’d missed your body, yes. But also something more intimate, something more human.

He let a moment pass after he stopped thrusting, then slowly pulled out of you. You groaned at the change, stretching your legs on the mattress. Mingyu moved on top of your body again, pressing his chest against yours as you wrapped him in your arms, kissing him deeply.

And he reciprocated the kiss just as passionately. He moaned softly when your fingers danced on the line of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin. His hand cupped the side of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“I love you,” he whispered, as though he could no longer keep the words to himself. He let out a long sigh, moving his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek. “I love you,” he repeated a bit louder this time.

“I love you too,” you whispered, choking on your feelings.

You understood what he’d meant with that look from earlier. Mingyu had missed being vulnerable with you. He had missed being close to you, sharing a bed with you, holding you close to his body.

“Hey,” he mouthed, using a hand to brush back your hair. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just—” you sniffled softly. “It’s just quite unreal to have you here again,” you said, enjoying the weight of his body on yours, even if he wasn’t quite literally lowering his whole body on you.

Mingyu smiled, his breath brushing your lips. “Well, here I am,” he told you, his eyes flitting from yours to your lips. “Not going anywhere.”

His words resonated with a part of your memory that you thought you had buried. Your heart stuttered, making you wince ever so slightly.

And he noticed.

“I mean it, baby,” he muttered, his eyebrows knitting with a hint of sadness. “And I meant it back then, but…” his tone dropped. “I thought I was doing the right thing for you. For me.”

“I know,” you replied, your voice made gruff by the tears you kept trying to swallow down.

Mingyu looked at your face for a brief moment and then let out a breath through his nose. “I know we’re in a very complicated situation, and you asked me if I could forgive you for what happened between Wonwoo and you. But I don’t think it’s about that anymore.”

You blinked. “Then what is it about?”

He rolled over to his side, tucking his arm beneath his head as you both faced each other now. “I think that we were very quick to assume that somebody was in the wrong here. You and I were broken up when you and Wonwoo started seeing each other. And yeah, he’s my best friend, but all things considered, I’m not too shocked that he did what he did.”

“Why?” you frowned a little.

“Number one, you’re beautiful,” he replied with a light smile on his face. But then the smile faded slowly, as he looked for the words to say. “Number two, I let you go quite foolishly. If I were him, I also would’ve wanted to get to know you better, because he thought I was just using you. And three—well, you’re totally his type too.”

You huffed loudly at the last part. “Shut up, Kim Mingyu. No, I’m not.”

“I never lie,” he said with a straight face, eyelids falling heavily.

“What does that even mean?” you asked, trying hard to contain your laugh. “You say that about every man that talks to me.”

“Baby, you’re smart, cute and have a kind heart. And on top of that, you’re very sexy. You are everyone’s type,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully. “But other than that, one thing that attracted me, and I know attracted him as well, is that you’re good company. You listen, you make people feel safe. Even when you’re hurting,” he said, blinking away from your face. “I also want to ask again if you could forgive me for walking away from you right when things were getting serious between you and me.”

“I forgive you, Mingyu,” you said, letting his words sink in. “I don’t think we need to dwell on that anymore. You did what you had to.”

“As did you,” he whispered, his gaze falling on your lips.

You looked at him for a long minute. He looked calmer now, even if he was blinking slower each time. His eyes outlined the features of your face, telling you with only one look how much he missed you.

Then, he ran a hand down the side of your head. “You had a haircut,” he muttered softly, letting his fingers get tangled through the strands of your hair.

You smiled. “You noticed,” you said.

He gave you a look, as though saying, Of course I did. “I meant to tell you earlier, but… we were busy.”

You giggled at his choice of words. “Are you hungry now?” you asked him.

He nodded. “Starving,” he whispered.

“Should we shower first and then eat something?” you offered, trying to find some energy to get up from the bed.

“Sounds good,” he said.

And then he rolled over and got up, tucking his arms beneath your body to carry you bridal style once more. You yelped at the sudden movement, slapping his shoulder playfully. “You have to let me walk.”

“You said your legs were shaking,” he pointed, shrugging slightly.

As you saw the light grin on his face, a warmth bloomed inside you. Mingyu was happy to be with you again. And you didn’t feel the insecurity you used to every single time you shared a bed with him in the past. There was the beginning of a promise that you didn’t have before—there was trust.

Even if you both still had so much to talk about.

You woke up to a near-suffocating warmth. Mingyu had his arm draped over your waist, circling your chest to hug you to his body snuggly. His leg was tangled with one of yours, his chest pressed to your back, nose deeply buried in your hair.

He stirred awake as you tried to free your leg from his. “Good morning,” he drawled sleepily.

You turned over, pressing your cheek to his chest. “Good morning, Gyu,” you whispered.

He brought a hand to the back of your head, caressing your hair gently. “Did you sleep alright?” he asked. 

You took in a breath, letting it out through your nose. “Mmm-hmm,” you hummed, nodding slowly. “You?” 

“Better than I have in a while,” he replied, caressing the back of your head languidly still. 

You pulled your face from his chest, just as Mingyu angled his to find your lips. He kissed you slowly, his tender pecks creating smacking wet sounds. 

“Gyu?” you whispered. 

“Yes, shorty?” 

You cupped the side of his face, your fingers feeling the soft hairs on his sideburn. “What happens now?” you asked, your tone shaking slightly. 

“You decide,” he replied sweetly, as though the answer had been already prepared. “We can take it slowly, and as far as you want it to.” 

You smiled, looking at his face in mild disbelief. “What do you want, Mingyu?”

He shrugged, showing you a light smile. “I just want to be with you,” he said, looking at you longingly. “I’m not saying we should jump into something right now, but I’m open to whatever you want.” 

You blinked. “Whatever?” 

Mingyu smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. “If you decide we’re dating, then we are,” he explained. “If you want to take things slowly, so do I.” 

Your heart nearly gave out. “And if… I want to think about what I want?” you whispered fearfully. 

His gaze lost a spark for a second. “Then that’s okay, too,” he whispered. 

“It's not that I don’t know what I want,” you told him. “I just need to think about how I want to say it.” 

Mingyu seemed to grasp at what you intended, and also knew that you didn’t want to be explicit at the moment. “So for now…” he said quietly. 

You took in a deep breath, steadying your nervous heart. “For now, we continue seeing each other?” you offered. “I know this doesn’t sound reassuring, but—” 

“It’s okay. You don’t owe me any explanations,” he cut you off gently. “We continue seeing each other, and whatever you decide to do, I’m down.” 

You sighed in disbelief again. “Just like that?” 

“Yep. Just like that,” he reassured, pressing his lips into a cute smile.

You blinked, and part of you suspected that Mingyu knew without a doubt what your choice was. But he was letting you get there slowly. 

Mingyu finished flashing you a smile. “Like I said. I just want to be with you. I don’t care how,” he said, his tone waning softly. “I hated losing you. I am not going through that again.” 

With a gasp, you crushed his lips with your own, kissing him passionately. Mingyu hummed into the kiss, using his hand on the back of your head to kiss you deeper. 

But despite the reassurance he gave you, your mind was winding with wild thoughts, colliding and fighting against each other. You loved Mingyu, you loved Wonwoo. It was a hard choice, an impossible choice. 

One that you had to make eventually. 

The apartment was still lit when Mingyu slipped through the door quietly. It was too quiet. The kind of quiet right before a trap. And inside, everything was spotless. Almost too perfect.  

Mingyu knew before he even turned the corner that Wonwoo was waiting. 

And he was right. 

Wonwoo was in the small open kitchen, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed. Eyes locked on Mingyu, the second the door clicked shut. 

Mingyu’s heart raced, just slightly, but he forced himself inside, discarding his keys on the table quite loudly, startling the staged quietness. 

“Crashed out?” Wonwoo asked meaningfully. His voice was steady, almost casual, but the edge underneath gave away the anxiousness he truly felt. 

Mingyu met his gaze, nodding. “Yes.” 

The silence that followed was unbearable, almost suffocating. The weight of years of friendship was layered on the look both men exchanged. Mingyu was no stranger to this silence—they knew each other too well, every lie. Every tell. 

Wonwoo took in a deep breath, pushing his arms against his chest tighter. “You were with her.” 

It wasn’t a question. And Mingyu didn’t even flinch. “Yes, I was.”

Wonwoo motioned a nod. But he had no words. And if he did, he swallowed them hard.

For half a heartbeat, it felt like they might fight again. Pressure was building between them, words, shouts, fists and things that could break their bond for good. 

But instead of that, something heavier lingered. It wasn’t just the feeling betrayal, but a bittersweet acknowledgement. They both wanted the same thing, they both shared the same longing, and ache. 

Mingyu’s chest rose and fell hard with a sigh. “If this keeps going, it will break us.” 

And by this, Mingyu meant Wonwoo’s love for you.

Mingyu could be many things. A friend, a kind and nice guy. But he was also jealous. And this was a game that began the night that Wonwoo kissed you for the first time. Wonwoo’s recklessness, Mingyu’s stubborness.

But Wonwoo’s gaze shone with a triumph that was consuming. He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to, Mingyu. And I think you know.” 

Another beat. 

And then— “Both of us loving her doesn’t have to break us.” 

Mingyu felt his features act before he could even process his best friend’s words—they hung in the air, dangerous, enticing. 

Then the words hit him. Mingyu had thought of it before, he knew that everything was leading to this point. And even your hesitation might’ve hint at this, and even if you didn’t say explicitly what you wanted to choose, it flashed through his mind. He had even thought of saying it as a joke, but he never dared to. He wanted you for himself. 

But he didn’t want to lose his best friend either. 

And yet again, Mingyu was too stubborn to acknowledge that Wonwoo had thought of finding common ground before Mingyu dared to bring it up. He was jealous, stubborn, yes. But he was also determined to keep you for his own for a little while longer. 

This was a game now. It wasn’t even about fighting for who would win your heart. It was a wicked game of how all of you would find common ground. 

And he’d even said so himself. Kim Mingyu knew that if he wanted you, he would have to learn how to share. 

But maybe he spoke too soon. 

☾ author's note: hey!

this note will be brief. i just want to thank you all for waiting and for checking up on me after months of not updating this fic. i really needed to distance myself from this series before attempting to write it again. i felt like the previous chapter was not well-received and the demons in my head were telling me to scrap it. but i decided to give myself a break from it and continue writing later and so here it is!

so thank you all who are still reading!! also, i invite you to read my other fics that i've posted recently like pineapple on pizza? and the sundering!

i love you all 🩵

toodles!

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☆ READ PART X! ☆ | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE ♡

You were restless, shifting in your chair and tapping your ballpoint pen against the surface of the desk, clicking over and over again. The report seeming to glare as much as a disgruntled wife for not having been worked over yet.

The list of possible future artists for Sebong Company demanding attention you couldn’t concentrate on giving at that moment and you cursed the man who had put it down in front of you with that much to smug grin of his. Given it wasn’t much of a grin, more a barely contained tug of the corner of his mouth but you knew what it meant. What it implicated as he almost strutted out of your office.

Xu Minghao. Manager of HR. Pain in your ass and the man who had gotten the very same promotion you had worked towards to.

"Seokmin has reviewed the audition tapes already, now it's on you to get them signed." He had said seeing the baffled look on your face.

Unsure you had taken the folder from the man grating on your nerves with every time he'd open his month.

"Isn't that Soyeon's job? Who's literally 2 offices down the hall, mind you?"

"And now it's yours. I think you're more then capable of a task like this as Soyeon will leave for a 3 week vacation."

"And now it's yours. I think you're more then capable of a task like this as Soyeon will leave for a 3 week vacation.”

It had taken everything for you now to reach for the stapler and throw it right at his head right then and there and you were sure, had he stayed in your office for one moment longer you might have actually done it. Minghao, as annoying as he always had been, was a smart man. He knew that working with future clients was not your expertise and that you, even with all your dedication to your job, were not the logical choice to take over for Soyeon in her absence. There were others in the department that were far better at handling clients then you were and you had now qualms in admitting to it.

But instead of throwing something you had only grated your teeth together and nodded.

Even accepting the siuggestion of bringing the forms right to his office instead of mailing them and saving yourself the torture of going to the office that should have been yours in the first place instead of his.

The office of the Head Manager of Sebong Corporates HR department.

The very same promotion you had been in the run for alongside Minghao. Him getting the promotion instead of you had not sparked your immense dislike for the man, it had been there long before that. About as long as you had started working for the, back then much smaller Company, around the same time as he did.

And if you had learned one thing with time was that Xu Minghao was exceptionally good at getting a rise out of you with the slightest raise of his perfectly plucked eyebrow and his far to heavy accent that made your stomach flip.

With disgust of course. (Of course…what else could it be;))

There were days where it seemed Minghao would leave you alone, leave you be and work in peace. And then there were days in which you felt he tried everything to get a reaction.

Appearing behind you without notice while you talked to someone in the hallway, startling you to the point where multiple reports or coffee cups were almost sent flying. Additional shift in which you were paired up with him and in which you forced yourself not to jump his throat. Emails send to your Inbox filled with nonsense like memes telling you to keep working. Him always using the last of copy paper and never filling the printer back up so you always ran out and had to do it yourself and the uneasy you felt when he called you something in mandarin.

Google translate has left you not knowing any better with that last one and you hated it.

And now you were still stuck staring at the file like it had personally wronged you, which, in a way, it had. Or at least, the person who’d brought it to your desk had.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair and watching the grey light from outside cast shadows across your screen. The soft clink of your pen dropping to the desk was the only sound you allowed before finally standing, pushing your chair back with a squeak that echoed just a little too loudly for comfort.

Yes, you absolutely could have mailed the damn thing just to spite him. Minghao, after had never explicitly said you had to bring it yourself. But the spiteful little part of you, the part that had been sitting in your heart since the day you watched Minghao move into the bigger office, said if he was going to try and test you with work that wasn’t yours, he’d at least have to look you in the eye when you handed it off with a smile so tight it made your jaw hurt.

The hallway to the corner office felt longer today. Or maybe that was just your mood clinging to your shoes and dragging your steps. You didn’t bother knocking as Minghao never did either when he barged into your space with his smug little quips and printouts, and the door creaked slightly as you pushed it open.

There he was.

Leaning back in the ridiculous leather chair that squeaked only when you sat in it, one leg crossed over the other like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn’t infuriatingly, effortlessly perfect in a way that made your blood boil and your skin prickle in the most inconvenient way.

Minghao looked up, his eyes catching yours instantly, as if he’d known you were coming. “I was wondering how long it’d take,” he said smoothly, setting his pen down and gesturing toward the desk with that damned smile of his. “Just put it there.”

You didn’t move.

You stared at him, expression carefully neutral because if you weren’t careful, you’d either start yelling or throwing something, or worse, you’d blush and you couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not with the way he was looking at you like he knew something you didn’t.

“You’re enjoying this,” you said finally, stepping forward and placing the folder down with a thump, as controlled as you could manage without slamming it straight into the table and his keyboard.

“Giving me extra work that you know I’m not the best fit for. Watching me try not to murder you on office grounds. It’s like your personal brand of entertainment.”

He tilted his head, just a little, eyes flicking from the folder to your face and back again. That infuriating almost smile threatened the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t let it bloom. At least not yet.

“I wouldn’t say entertainment,” he replied, his tone slow, deliberate, “but I do enjoy keeping you on your toes.”

Your jaw tightened when he looked entirely to innocent while those words came out of him

“I’m not your toy.”

“I never said you were,” he said, voice softening slightly, in that way that always threw you off more than it should. “You’re…a lot of things. But not a toy.”

You squinted. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He gave a quiet, breathy laugh — the kind you were sure had made interns and assistants weak in the knees more than once. You hated that you knew exactly what it sounded like.

“You can take it however you like.”

You opened your mouth to fire something back, something cutting, probably a little mean, because that’s how the two of you worked — but stopped short when your eyes flicked down to the desk and landed on the two coffee cups sitting near his keyboard. One was his usual order, you recognized it from the corner café downstairs. The other was yours.

The exact kind you always bought for yourself, right down to the extra coconut syrup and low fat milk.

He followed your gaze and leaned back in his chair with that air of maddening ease. “I thought you might need a boost-” he said casually, “given how grumpy you’ve been today. Or well, last few months...”

“I’m not grumpy,” you said immediately, then realized how that sounded. Defensive, sharp and grumpy.

His smile finally appeared in full, slow and devastating and far too pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heel before he could say anything else. “If you keep this up, I really will throw the stapler next time.”

His voice followed you, low and amused, like he knew the exact kind of chaos he left behind every time he pulled stunts like this. “I’ll make sure to duck.”

The coffee was left behind.

You were many things and one of them was proud. To proud to take the little peace offering he seemed to have gotten.

Huffing you stormed back into your own office.

This man really was something. Did he really think a simple cup of coffee was gonna change the way you two dance around each other like some rivaling predators ready to pounce to defend their territory?

Oh really absolutely not. Not when Minghao tried to get a rise out of you at every possible moment.

Which is also why you nearly screamed when you came back from the restroom and found said coffee sitting on your desk with a bright pink post it attached to it.

"You forgot this in my office. Enjoy :)"

Very tempted to throw it away you left it sitting there feeling it's presence like a rain cloud from outside while you wend through your mails. The tiredness in your bones still hadn't went away over the last hour and maybe you were craving the sweet taste of your favorite beverage. And maybe you reached for it after reading the 4th complaint of one of your coworkers in other departments in which they complained about the construction site outside their office window. Like you were responsible in any way for the city to renew the street around the company.

Fuck. Minghao really had ordered it just how you liked.

“You're grumpy again."

Jumping out of your skin at the sudden appearance of your boss you glared at the chinese man as he leaned against the door frame, glasses almost slipping from his nose from sitting so low.

“I'm not."

Minghao huffed a laugh but didn't move closer. Rather he settled more against the frame.

"Tell that to your desktop. The poor screen is gonna go up in flames soon."

You eyed him once and softened your features. Even if just the slightest bit.

"Do you need something?"

The man shrugged and entirely ignored the question.

"How was the coffee?"

You stopped and turned to look at him. His presence filling the room but not in a smug way. He looked soft , put together and entirely to curious for your taste.

"You got it wrong."

It was a lie and you both new it.

"Sure it is."

"I repeat, do you need something?"

"Nothing, just thought you might miss me băobèi." His little shrug left you speechless and with your jaw almost on your desk to the point you even ignored the mandarin he had yet again slipped into his sentence.

“Wow,” he said lightly, breaking the silence that followed, voice now quieter then before.

“That might be the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless. Should I be worried? Or flattered?”

Still nothing.

But his eyes flickered to your mouth, just for a second and when his eyes met yours again, there was something in them.

You blinked slowly, needing a moment to recover, but the pause had already said too much.

Minghao tilted his head, letting the silence stretch, letting you sit with the fact that he had once again caught you of guard. This time however differently to what he usually did or said.

“Di- did you hit your head in your office just now?” you spluttered with wide eyes the hand on the computer mouse having gone completely still.

“Are you worried?”

“You- what- no!

“But you didn’t deny it.”

Your mouth opened, then closed again, and you were sure your brain had just done a hard reboot mid-thought.

“I didn’t deny it,” you said finally, fingers tightening slightly on the mouse, “because I was too busy trying to figure out if you’ve finally lost it.”

Minghao raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“So still no denial.”

You rolled your eyes, heart annoyingly loud in your chest. “I’m not worried, Minghao. I’m just… trying making sure you’re not having some kind of stroke. You know, suddenly deciding to be nice to me?”

“I’m always nice.”

You snorted. “No, no, no, no. If you were always nice, I wouldn’t have three separate folders on my desktop labeled ‘HR pain in my ass – Volumes I, II and III.’”

He didn’t even blink. “So you think about me often enough to label my niceness.”

You gaped. “That’s not—! It’s called workplace trauma, Xu!”

His smile spread wider.

“And yet you still haven’t denied it.”

And gone he was.

With a heavily beating heart you stared at the spot where the door gently clicked shut.

God you needed a drink. Now!

The break room was empty when you entered, which you were quite thankful for in that moment.

You needed a moment to take a breath. Or maybe three. Anything to take your mind off whatever it had been that had just happened.

What the freak had that been? And what was Minghao trying to achieve with it?!

You yanked open the fridge door and stared blankly at the contents like your life depended on it. It didn’t, but your hands were still warm from where they’d curled around your mouse during that completely unnecessary and maybe u settling conversation, and you swore you could still hear his voice echoing in your ears. That was unfair. That was workplace harassment. That was—

“Okay,” came a voice behind you, loud and mildly scandalized. “Who got under your skin this time?”

You jumped, whipping around with the fridge door still open and nearly knocking into Boo Seungkwan, Marketing Manager and full-time chaos detector.

He took one look at you and narrowed his eyes like a seasoned drama critic watching Vernon act out his newest movie in real time.

“Why do you look like someone just whispered something very not HR conform in your ear during a board meeting?”

“No Idea what you mean.” you said immediately, too fast and a bit high pitched which triggered Seungkwan’s distrust even more.

“Sure.” He crossed his arms, expression unchanging. “You’re fidgety. Your lips are almost bleeding from chewing on them and you’re staring into that fridge like it holds the answers to your entire emotional breakdown.”

“I’m not having a breakdown.” You grumbled a bit petulant.

He held up one hand, as if to signal he’d allow the lie just this once. “Okay. Fine. Not a breakdown. Got it.”

You groaned and closed the fridge. “Can’t I just be in the middle of a caffeine crisis without being interrogated like this?”

“Oh, babe, no.” he said, slipping past you to grab his sparkling water with far too much smugness. “Not when you come in here looking like you’ve just had a near death experience with that Hongjoong guy from your screensaver.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

You shouldn’t have and one look at the Marketing Manager told you that you would regret it.

Seungkwan’s eyes lit up like he’d just found the plot twist *and* the end credits.

“Oh my god. It was Hao, wasn’t it?”

You tried your best to safe your pride. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” he sang, now grinning like a cat that had caught itxs prey.

“That face says everything. Did he finally flirt you into a corner?”

“No,” you hissed, though your voice cracked halfway through. “It wasn’t flirting. It was—it was just a conversation.”

One that left you reeling but if you said that out loud, Seungkwan would never let you live in peace again.

Not that he did that in the first place.

“Right.” Seungkwan sipped his water like it was wine while sittibg down at the long table. “The kind of conversation that leaves you breathless and checking your pulse in front of a fridge.”

“I hate you.” You grabbed your coffee, ready to flee. “And you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Absolutely. Because finally” he called after you as you headed for the door, “ you started to catch up on what everyone else here sees when he looks at you.”

You stopped.

Turned slightly.

Ehh?????

“…What the hell do you mean the rest of us?”

Seungkwan smirked.

“Oh babe, we all noticed. Minghao is sarcastic with everyone. But with you, there’s this little sparkle in his eyes and he’s a lot softer in the way he talks to you then anyone else in this place.”

And with that, he pulled out his phone and started his break. Acting like he hadn’t just thrown you into a rollercoaster of emotions.

A few days later at a corporate gala you’re dressed to kill after trying to avoid Minghao for the past 3 days like your life depends on it and clinging onto your champagne to keep your cool.

The gala was everything you’d expected from Sebong Corporation and more. Something straight out of a movie and a sea of dressed to the nines people pretending they didn’t hate networking just as much as you did.

You stood near one of the bar, a half-empty glass of champagne in hand, nodding politely at someone from legal who was still talking about last quarter’s contract revisions. You hadn’t understood a single thing.

Way to busy with scanning the room.

More specifically, busy making sure Xu Minghao wasn’t within a 3 meter radius.

So far he wasn’t. You’d spotted him once a bit earlier. Tall and unfairly sharp looking in a black suit that fit like it a glove and his hair slicked back, his smile polite, and his eyes–

No! You wouldn’t allow your thoughts to go there.

You had successfully dipped every time he came even remotely close for the past hour.

Your new personal record, especially after the week you’d had, which consisted ignoring his mails,, escaping to “urgent meetings” the moment he entered a room, and very nearly ducking behind the office ficus once when he passed by too close to your desk.

You hadn’t done that but the thought was there.

You were in denial. And the champagne was helping you stay there.

“I see you’ve upgraded from ‘fidgety’ to ‘liquid courage’.” Came a voice to your right.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Seungkwan, looking flawless in a silk tie and an expression that said he lived for nights like this — social chaos, good lighting, and corporate gossip served with shrimp cocktails. Everything you only survived with some strong whisky quickly thrown back before leaving your apartment.

“I’m networking” you said, sipping your drink.

“You’re pretending to network while checking for one specific threat like he’s Bowser in Super Mario 64 and you’re Princess Peach.”

“You really have a thing for over dramatizing things. Thats not even remotely what I was doing and Bowser at least had a castle.”

“Oh?” Seungkwan smiled into his glass. “So the running away, the drink refills every ten minutes, and the fact that you keep track of him to dip in time to not run into him is just… coincidence?”

You sighed, pressing your fingers to your temple. “I’m just trying to have one evening without… stress.”

“That being him breathing in your direction and making you question your entire personality?”

You pulled a face that very clearly showed how unamused you were by his deduction.

Seungkwan took pity. Just a little.

“Look, I get it. You two have that… thing. The tension. The banter. The enemies-but-not-really thing that feels like foreplay but sounds like an HR violation, which buy the way would land on your own desk if it came out. Or his.”

You nearly choked on your drink.

He just grinned. “All I’m saying is that pretending nothing’s happening might not be the best strategy.”

Before you could say anything his gaze flicked over your shoulder and instantly light up.

“Oh,” he said, far too pleased. “And look who just noticed you.”

You stiffened. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t say it Seungkwan.”

“He’s walking this way, babe.”

You turned, fully prepared to escape once again but it was too late. Minghao was already behind you and stepping into your personal space with the kind of calm that made your nerves bubble like your chmpagne

“Evening,” he said, voice smooth and low and criminal in the way it made your insides flutter.

You forced a smile. “Minghao.”

His eyes flicked to your glass. “Third one?”

You blinked. “Fourth actually.”

He hummed. “That’s cute.”

Seungkwan coughed, conveniently and very loudly. “Well. I’ll leave you two to whatever this is.”

He gestured wildly and disappeared before you could stare him down.

You turned back to Minghao, who was definitely fighting a smirk himself.

You hated him.

Hated the way he was looking at you like he knew exactly what yyou had been doing for the past hour. Like he’d let you run just to see how many times you’d try to flee from him.

“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, trying for neutral.

“It’s tolerable,” he said. “The view helps.”

You froze.

And again. EHH????

He raised his glass slightly in your direction. “You look good tonight.”

Your throat dried.

“Dito” you managed to grumble while keeping your voice low. “You look… good.”

“Mm.” That smirk was back. “So you’ve been looking.”

You downed the rest of your champagne and prayed someone would pull the fire alarm.

The air outside felt amazing on your skin. Cool, gentle, not enough to sober you, but just enough to make your head feel lighter than it already was.

You leaned against the iron railing of the terrace, empty champagne glass dangling between your fingers and the bubbles long gone but the warmth still bubbling in your system.

The heels on your feet hurt, your vision just the slightest bit swimming every time you blinked too slowly, and your brain was somewhere between *I need food* and *I miss the old Winx Club*.

More than anything, though, you were trying very hard not to think about Minghao.

Which of course, only made you think about him more.

The way he looked tonight. The sleek suit that did nothing to help your composure, the soft way his hair curled behind his ears, the tie just the slightest bit loose at his collar like even perfection had its limit. And the way he’d kept glancing your way even while conversing with a sponsor from all the way across the hall just long enough to make your stomach twist.

You were fine. Tipsy, sure. A little warm. A little emotionally unstable. But totally, completely fine.

And then the door behind you opened.

You felt him before you saw him. That presence, all calm and unsettlingly quiet, like standing too close to a fire that hadn’t caught flame yet.

“Didn’t take you for an escape artist.” Minghao said gently as he came to stand close enough for you to feel the heat of his body through your dress without touching you.

You snorted into your glass, too tired and too buzzed to be anything but honest.

“Didn’t take you for someone who would notice.”

“I always notice you.”

You turned your head, slowly. He wasn’t smirking or teasing. Just looking at you with that same steady gaze that made you feel weak in the knees.

“I came out for air.” you said, blinking harder than necessary. “And also because if I stood in that room for one more minute I was going to throw myself into the chocolate fountain.”

A soft laugh escaped him, low and surprised. “That’s fair I guess..”

You squinted at him. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be networking? Charming sponsors and artists? Making everyone wonder how you’re both terrifyingly polite and smug all at once?”

“I got bored,” he said. Then with a shrug: “And I saw you leave.”

You made a small sound; somewhere between a scoff and something more startled, annd looked back out over the city od Seoul.

“You’re gonna give me a complex one of these days.”

Minghao didn’t answer at first. Then, after a moment: “You’re glowing.”

Your head tilted slightly. “That’s the champagne.”

He hummed. “No. It’s you. When you’re not pretending you don’t like me.”

You laughed a little startled and a little too loud in the silence of the night.

“I don’t like you,” you said, but your voice cracked halfway through.

Minghao smiled slowly. “You’re drunk.”

You lifted your chin with an unconscious pout on your lips.

“I’m *tipsy.* That’s different.”

Minghao moved just slightly closer, enough that your breath caught a little in your throat.

“You’re soft when you drink.” he murmured. “It suits you.”

You narrowed your eyes — or tried to. The effect was more squinty than threatening.

“You think you can just… say things like that and not get punched?”

“Oh Băobèi, you won’t punch me.”

“Don’t test me, Xu.”

He laughed again, and something about the sound pulled at your chest like a thread unraveling.

“So tell me. Why were you running?”

“I wasn’t running,” you mumbled, nose wrinkling and still pouty t as you swirled that last drop of champagne around the glass.

“I was… briskly walking away from poor decisions.”

Minghao chuckled under his breath. “And I’m the poor decision?”

You didn’t answer. You just shrugged and gave him a side glance. The kind that was equal parts playful and infuriatingly unreadable.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you thought it.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning your elbow on the railing and pressing your cheek to your knuckles, suddenly very aware of how your earring brushed against the skin of your neck when you moved.

“You’re very full of yourself, you know that?” you said lightly.

Minghao chuckled.

“I get that a lot.”

“You should.” You nodded.

Minghao laughed again, softer this time, like he couldn’t help it, like it was just falling out of him now.

And when he looked at you again, it was different. Warmer and honest.

“You’re dangerous when you’re tipsy,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You peeked up at him, eyes wide and a little too shiny from champagne, night air and the light of the skyline reflecting in them. “Why?”

“Because you’re cute,” he said, honestly. “And unpredictable. And because I want to kiss you so badly it’s starting to mess with my sense of logic.”

Your breath caught but instead of melting, you narrowed your eyes, lips pulling into a lazy, smug little smile.

“I am unpredictable” you said. “So maybe I’ll kiss you.”

He went still.

You leaned closer, just barely and lowered your voice. “Or maybe I’ll go back inside and pretend this never happened.”

He exhaled a soft breath through his nose, smiling like someone trying very hard not to break apart in real time. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You tilted your head, eyes fluttering slightly. “Yeah? Well, if you die dramatically enough, I promise to attend the funeral in black and cry over your grave.”

Minghao shook his head with a breathless laugh, running a hand down his face. “God, you are so annoying.”

“And yet.” You blinked up at him, biting back a grin. “You’re still here”

He looked at you then. Really looked and you could see it happen. The silent unraveling. The moment he stopped trying to keep it together and let himself feel you.

All of you.

The pout. The teasing. The stubbornness. The ache and affection under every attempt to dodge his flirting.

“I am so screwed,” he said softly.

You let out a tiny hum. “You’ve been screwed since the first time I rolled my eyes at you when we started working at Sebong.”

“I knew it,” he whispered, eyes wide with mock offense. “That was flirting.”

You grinned, tipsy and victorious, and lifted your glass like a toast. “No it wasn’t.. and if it was you can’t prove it.”

“I don’t have to.” He closed the tiny gap still left between you.

“Because if you don’t kiss me in the next five seconds, I’m going to.”

You raised a brow, head tilted to the side and your lips pursed. “Is that a threat?”

He leaned in, not quite touching but close enough that your breath brushed against his face.

“No,” he whispered, voice lower now. “That’s a promise.”

And for a moment, just one long champagne-dizzy second you didn’t push him away.

You didn’t tease.

You just stayed there, quiet and breathless, as the walls you had pulled up trembled in the presence of someone who saw through all of them.

You didn’t say a single clever thing.

You couldn’t even think of one and just looked at him.

Really looked.

At the way his hair curled ever so slightly at the ends. The way his eyes flew your face like he was memorizing every single detail on it. The way his breath caught just barely when your own hitched.

And then, before either of you could thinkk to much, you closed the space yourself.

It was barely a movement.

Just the softest lean forward, the smallest tilt of your head, the faintest brush of lips and still enough to ruin you completely.

Because the moment you kissed him, the world went quiet.

Minghao froze for the briefest second, like he couldn’t quite believe you would actually lean in and then melted into you like butter in the sun.

His hand found your waist. Not urgent or demanding, just there, steady and warm through the thin fabric of your dress. His other hand rose slowly, fingers ghosting over side of your face as his thumb brushed your cheek so gently it made your eyes flutter shut all over again.

It wasn’t a hungry nor was it rushed.

It was deliberate like something that had been waiting to happen for a long time.

Like Minghao wanted to savor every soft breath, every angle, every little noise that left you.

You kissed him back with that same slow ache, the champagne still bubbling through your veins but fading now under the heat blooming in your chest. Your hand curled lightly into the lapel of his jacket, anchoring yourself, like if you let go, you might float right out of your skin.

When you finally pulled back, just a breath apart, his eyes opened slowly.

He looked dazed.

Wrecked, in the quietest, most beautiful way.

“Okay,” he whispered, voice rougher now. “I take it back.”

You blinked up at him, still catching your breath. “Take what back?”

His thumb traced your jaw.

“I’m already yours.”

Your heart stuttered.

You tried to smirk — tried to throw up one last wall, one last quip, but it didn’t quite make it. It dissolved on your lips as he leaned his forehead gently against yours.

And for once, you let it happen.

You didn’t fight him.

Didn’t outrun the way your body leaned into him like it belonged there.

You just stayed.

Minghao’s arms around you, the city glowing quietly beyond the terrace, the kiss still burning on your lips.

No more games.

No more fighting.

Just this.

Inside were Seungkwan and Vernon, who high fived each other and threw their drinks back like it was apple juice.

Finally

He’d like to think he was a fairly patient man, however when he had come over, he definitly has had other plans then watch you worry over a text you by now knew without reading the words written down on the pages.

Yes, he was bored. Yes, he wanted attention and yes, he would burn that stupid textbook if he didn’t get it soon.

“Just 20 minutes and I’ll be done.” You argued without looking up.

Jeonghan groaned and let his head tip back in frustration.

Seriously how hard could it be to have his darling to himself for a bit? Between promotions and exams there wasn’t much time you and him actually could spend together and for once he had been able to make enough room to stay over without having to leave at an ungodly hour in the morning. All that was between him and actually having you in his arms instead of sitting on a bar stool the kitchen was that damn book!

“I’ll start a timer.” He huffed.

“Sure Hannie.”

He huffed again and actually started the timer. You just wait.

Never in his life had he thought that 20 minutes could feel this long. Was this how carats felt while waiting for their shows to start? If so, he really felt for them. It was a nightmare.

Quickly he shot a message to Seungcheol to keep his mind busy.

I hate books. Send 8:23 pm

???? Received 8:24 pm

Y/n has to study. Send 8:26 pm

😂 Received 8:26 pm

“Jagiii pleaseee!!”

“17 minutes left.”

Dear god!

Could this get any worse for him?

The rumbling of his stomach answered that question for him; calling out to the take out he had brought and was still sitting on the counter. Probably cold by now.

Neglected, hungry and bored. Someone really seemed to hate him today.

Heaving his tired bones of the couch and into the open kitchen Jeonghan grabbed two bowls from the cupboard, the wine bottle he had gotten along some snacks also waiting on the counter for later and 2 glasses. At least he could make sure you were fed when you were done studying.

The food turned in the microwave; the beep when it was done causing you to scrunch up your face as it broke your concentration before he took it out and put it in the bowls.

A glance to timer displayed on his phone beside him showed the 8 turning into a 7 as it counted down the seconds.

You were very aware that your boyfriend was standing on the other side of the bar in front of you while staring you down as if it would make time fly by faster.

It was as endearing as it was making you nervous to feel his big brown eyes tracking every move you made as you highlighted passages of your text you found important.

And when the timer was finally down to zero, you didn’t even have enough time to close the book before you felt Jeonghans pointer finger on your chin, thumb caressing over your lips and his unfairly beautiful face only inches away from your own.

☾ 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.