#kpopsociety

It’s something people ask whenever the topic of ‘friends with benefits’ is brought up, but it never comes to mind in your own relationship. Why would it? Everything seemed fine—at least, it was to you.

Clicking your tongue, you wave her off as you resume to your computer, tapping your password against the keys to unlock the screen. “I’ve shown you his abs before, right? And you’ve seen his instagram. You can’t tell me a guy with a feed like that doesn’t have his options open. He’s probably busy and felt like having a fuck buddy would be easier for the time being. I don’t think the idea of a ‘relationship’ is on his mind.”

She shoves her phone in your face; Mingyu’s post with a picture of him and his dad are on display and Hayoung’s eyes bulge out to emphasize the seriousness of this as she wags the device exaggeratedly. “He’s a family guy, you idiot. No whore is a family person.”

“They can be.”

“No,” she’s skimming through his instagram once more. “There’s no way. All he has are pictures of the scenery, himself, his dog, and his parents. This screams domestic as fuck.”

Rolling your eyes, you’re making it a goal to avoid looking over at her. Hayoung was a great friend, but she never failed to be a distraction. “Fucking in a broom closet doesn’t exactly scream domestic.”

She gasps. “You fucked in a closet?”

Shit, she manages to get you to turn around in your chair and steal your attention again. “Yeah, and we fucked in the front seat of his car. You think that’s domestic?”

Her stare narrows, and she straightens her lips. “You even fucked in the front seat of his car?” Deciding not to probe any further, she shakes her head. “Nonetheless, he might just be weak for you. You should ask what he wants in case this goes too far.”

“Pretty sure a guy who wants to fuck me against the sliding balcony door of his building doesn’t want a serious relationship.”

“You what?!”

“Just kidding,” you grin cheekily, twirling back to your computer. “In all seriousness though, I appreciate the gesture, Hayoung. But he’s a busy guy, and I’m a busy gal, I’m pretty sure all he wants is to just fuck and dip.”

“Let’s make a bet, then,” she has her arms crossed over her chest. “Ask him if he likes you. If he does, you owe me breakfast for a month. If he doesn’t, I’ll treat you for a whole month.”

You groan, puffing your cheeks. “This really isn’t that deep.”

“If it isn’t, then you should be able to do it with ease,” she smiles mischievously, knowing very well how to get under your skin. If this was just a friends with benefits situation, and you were so sure of it, it shouldn’t hurt to ask Mingyu for his honesty, right?

… Right?

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, and with mimosas too.”

Tapping your feet against the floor, your glare practically pierces through her, but she remains firm with her requirements. “… Okay, fine, with mimosas.”

He feels so good when he’s against you. The heat of his breath ghosting over your neck in between his peppering kisses, his bulky arms holding your legs around his waist, and the way he pulls away just barely, forehead pressing on yours, his hooded eyes and swollen lips gives away how intoxicated he is from you.

“How did we get like this again?” You manage to ask, despite being breathless. Hands roaming his bare, broad shoulders, it seems like you’re just as inebriated. “I thought we were supposed to make pancakes.”

“Yeah,” his voice deeper than usual, “then you insulted my ass and called it a flat pancake. Can’t say that it made me very happy.”

You let out a laugh—he’s so serious, yet somehow cute and sexy at the same time, but he doesn’t let you enjoy mocking him for long when he pulls his hips back and thrusts into you harshly. A soft moan escapes from your lips in lieu of another insult, fingers clutching onto his bicep.

“Not so funny now?”

“Always funny to me,” you snap back, and it only provokes him to go harder and deeper with each movement. He gets your head all fuzzy, completely forgetting how hard and cold the kitchen counter was underneath your bare ass because everything about him was overwhelming.

It doesn’t take long to finish, especially with him sucking and licking the sensitive spot behind your ear, with a hand releasing your thigh to rub against your bud with his thumb. He’s so big—in both sizes down there and his height, not even including his build yet, and just the thought of him manhandling you gets you all worked up.

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you rasp, head thrown back and lips parted, “I’m gonna cum—”

He pecks your outer ear sweetly, burying himself inside your pussy. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he hums before planting more kisses down your neck, “be a good girl and cum around me, yeah?”

With a swallow, you barely respond back with a ‘yeah’ before you're convulsing around him, hand on his nape as your legs stiffen from the amount of pleasure.

When you finally settle, your body softens and you run your fingers through his hair. He doesn’t say much, but there’s a sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, like you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

“Think you can handle it just a little longer for me?”

“Yeah,” you answer shakily, still recovering from your high. “Use me.”

Brows furrowed in concentration, he grabs the thickness of your ass into his palms before adjusting himself just enough before he pistons his hips into you. Skin slapping, heavy pants, and lewd sounds from your wetness, he shoves his face into your shoulder before he grunts, without a care of who hears before he stills into you with a long groan.

It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, but the untouched pancake batter that sits by the stove is calling for your attention. Shifting to move his head up, you push away the hair in his face that mixes with his sweat. “This is gross, you know.”

He chuckles. “The sweat or fucking in your kitchen?”

You grimace in return. “Both. Now get off me so I can cook breakfast.”

Mingyu always does this, but something about the conversation you had with Hayoung has you noticing things you didn’t before. He’s always so gentle at the end of sex—no matter how rough it was—and he’d make sure you’re okay, clean you up, and help you get dressed.

So when you’re back on your feet, pj pants back on with a spatula in hand over the stove looking like you didn’t just get fucked on the granite countertop, it’s not surprising.

“I can help,” he says, taking the spatula from your hand. “Wanna make some bacon? I saw you had some leftovers in the fridge.”

How’d he know you had bacon?

“Um, sure,” you scratch your head in thought. “It’s… It’s turkey bacon, are you okay with that?”

He smiles with a nod before grabbing the pink apron hung over the doorknob of the pantry and putting it on. He turns his back to you, attention on the pan with a plop of batter in the middle.

Why did this oddly feel so… intimate?

It wasn’t any different from any other Saturday morning; Mingyu often stops by Friday afternoon, you’d play around a little before it leads to something more, and he’d spend the night in your bed.

Hm. It… it strangely feels like… a relationship?

Were you already in one and didn’t know it?

When you open the freezer, it’s evident that it needs restocking. You’ve got an opened half-eaten pizza roll bag, that styrofoam tray of leftover bacon, and ice cream.

Maybe it’s normal that he’d notice the bacon—you barely have anything in here.

Handing off the tray to Mingyu, he places it on the side before glancing over at you. “Should we go grocery shopping today?”

Grocery shopping? Oh, now it’s sounding rather domestic.

Does he like you? He never said anything, and he doesn’t ask you to do anything romantically. In fact, you’ve never held his hand before (other than when he has your hands over your head when you’re fucking) and he’s never asked you to meet his friends either. His mom came to town about a week ago and he didn’t invite you over.

Should you be concerned?

Suddenly, he waves a hand over your face. “What are you thinking about?”

The fronts of your brows dip in confusion. Maybe you should ask him now, even if he’s in the middle of cooking your breakfast like a boyfriend would. “I have a question. But I need you to be completely honest with me.”

He sucks in his cheeks. “When have I ever lied to you?” The look on your face doesn’t exactly seem to be welcoming his joke. “I’m kidding. Of course, I’ll be honest. What is it?”

“Do you like me?”

He nearly chokes on his spit. “W-What? I mean, yeah, I like you. We’ve been sleeping together.”

“Um, no, I mean, do you like like me?” Letting out a heavy sigh, you rub your face tiredly. “I can’t believe I said it like we’re some elementary school kids. Just tell me, Mingyu.”

Taking off the last pancake and placing it onto the plate piled with the rest, he shuts off the stove. Front facing you, he releases his anxiety with a deep breath and musters up the courage to say what he’s been holding back for the past year.

“Yeah, I mean—yeah, I like you. More than whatever this is.”

Flustered and a bit agitated, you tilt your head at the taller male. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughs, and it’s a mixture between disbelief and uncertainty. “What do you think would happen? Because I know you, whether you like it or not, and the idea of commitment freaks you out. So, yeah, I like you, but you’re not going to do anything about it. And if I get to have you like this, even without the label, then sure, I wouldn’t want to tell you because you’ll let this go.”

You blink. “I—Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad? Because you’re scared of commitment?”

Rolling your lips, you nod. “Well, sorta, yeah. Doesn’t it bother you that you’ve just been… sitting and waiting around for me to say something?”

He quirks a brow. “Well, are you?”

There’s silence between the two of you, the only sound in the room being the stove ventilator that hums loudly. The pancakes are starting to get cold and the bacon is left untouched. Maybe you should’ve confronted him after breakfast.

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t even know you felt this way about me.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I like how it is now, do you?”

“I do, but—doesn’t it just… make you upset?”

He shakes his head in response, switching the stove back on and relief washes over you. You didn’t lose him—he’s even going back to cook again. Mingyu reaches over to the little container that holds your oil and pours it onto the heated pan. “No, it doesn’t. I told you, if I get to be with you, I don’t care about the label. I just want you to be comfortable. I’ll settle for this if this is the best it can get.”

Well, do you like Mingyu?

It’s something you haven’t really thought about, and ever since Hayoung planted that stupid idea in your head, you can’t get that shit out. But it doesn’t seem to bother him that you know because he’s fucking frying the turkey bacon like nothing even happened.

When he’s sitting in front of you, coffee is already made (by him, too) and the food is placed on the table. He practically inhales his food, and this doesn’t often intrigue you, but the concept of him ever being your boyfriend is starting to make you more observant.

“How’s your coffee? I made it iced, since you don’t like it hot.”

Fuck, coffee, a drink you have with your breakfast, just like mimosas. You owe that bitch fucking breakfast for a month.

“You made me lose a bet, you know,” you blurt, dropping your fork onto the table. Mingyu’s ears perk and his gaze meets yours. “Hayoung said if you admitted you had feelings for me, I owe her breakfast for a month. Vice versa. Plus mimosas.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem fazed, in fact, he chuckles at your revelation. “That’s fine. You could use my card to pay for it.”

“Mmm, this shit is soooooo good,” Hayoung moans, mimosa swirling in a champagne glass in hand. She’s gotten all dolled up for brunch today; hair curled, fake lashes on and a pretty cherry tint on her lips. “So glad I was right. Imagine if I lost, that would suck.”

“Did you have to get the most expensive champagne on the menu?”

“Oh, please, if you’re paying, of course I’m gonna order the most expensive one.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull out that black American Express card from your purse. “I’m not—”

Hayoung gasps, snatching it from your hand. “Holy shit, when did you get a black card—wait, this says Kim Mingyu.” She stares at you. “Why do you have Mingyu’s card? Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are official—”

Leaning over, you grab the card back. “No, I just told him about our bet and how he made me lose. He offered to pay.”

She’s so fucking cheesy, you’re tempted to slap that grin off her face.

“How sweet. I wish my boyfriend would do that for me.”

“Cheol is like a billionaire. Get off my back.” Hayoung pouts.

Although Hayoung was a coworker, she was a friend you made outside of those four walls. She’s the same age yet somehow the complete opposite of you. Eager and bright, kind and warm—she’s like the epitome of what a guy like Mingyu would be into, but unfortunately, she’s got a boyfriend who is slightly less of a grump than you are.

“Mm, but it seems like you might like him in return,” she’s wriggling her brows but you might have to whack her head.

“Your brother Jeonghan is hot.”

Hayoung freezes while drinking her mimosa. “Stop it, that’s not funny.”

Pursing up your lips teasingly, your mouth tugs into a smile afterwards. “I thought we were saying what was on our minds. That was on mine.”

She wags the free breadstick at you. “Listen, I know you think Jeonghan is hot—fine, fuck him for all I care. But don’t do it just to spite me and ruin whatever it is you have with Mingyu.”

Speaking of the Devil, your phone lights up next to your drink with Mingyu’s name on the lock screen.

Mingyu [10:32AM]: Enjoying brunch? Didn’t see you swipe my card yet, but wanna come over after brunch?

He’s… kind of… cute? There’s something sweet about him checking in on you, like he actually cares about what you’re up to other than always wanting to fuck. It’s like when he made iced coffee for you instead of brewing a hot cup, knowing that you liked it better cold.

“You’re smiling.”

You clear your throat, sending off a quick ‘sure’ back to Mingyu before focusing back on Hayoung. “Saw something funny.”

“No,” she eyed you suspiciously, “Mingyu texted you. What’d he ask?”

“If I paid yet,” you retorted shortly. “Nothing else.”

“He asked to meet, didn’t he?” The desire to slap is upgrading to a punch. “Come on, what’s so wrong about being his girlfriend? You obviously have a crush on him. Does he make your heart flutter?”

For a moment, you pause. “I… I don’t think so? I don’t even know what that feels like.”

She taps her well-manicured nails against the table, the ones that her rich boyfriend Seungcheol definitely paid for. Why’s she making you spend your boyf—wait, he’s not your boyfriend. What’s wrong with you?

“Does he smile? Make you laugh?”

“Only because I’m insulting him.”

She rolls her eyes. “Can you stop that? Why don’t you figure out how you feel about him so you’re not leading him on?”

Your shoulders drop. You weren’t leading him on, were you? He said before that if this is the best he could get with you, he’d settle for that.

But he used the word ‘settle,’ and in terms of a relationship… that can’t possibly mean a positive thing, right?

“Alright, fine. I’ll… I’ll try.”

Hayoung snorts and nearly has her mimosa spilling out her nose. “Why do you always say things like it’s painful for you? He’s a hot guy and he’s got such a great personality. Why do you keep pushing him away?”

Good question.

When you arrive at Mingyu's apartment, you’re nervous. Palms perspiring, heartbeat racing, and feet constantly feeling the need to tap against the ground, you’re having a hard time remaining calm.

Why are you so fucking anxious for? Mingyu never used to make you this way. What’s so different about now? Slowly, you reach over to tap your knuckles against the door but it swings open before you could make an impact.

There he was. Standing there in a tight, forest green t-shirt that seems way too small for his chest and arms. It’s hard to concentrate on your emotions when your eyes are fixated on his body. Were you that shallow?

Well, to be quite frank, you were fuck buddies to begin with.

“How’d you know I was here?”

He points to the small camera by the doorbell. “Normally people click the button, but… I saw you gathering the courage to knock on my door. Thought I’d save you the hassle.” Mingyu steps aside for you to come in, but his small white dog stops you in your tracks to jump on your leg. “Bobpul, sit.”

“It’s fine—”

“Bobpul.” He calls her out firmly this time, and she whimpers quietly before setting her bottom down against the wood floors. “Sorry, she’s just excited to see you again since you haven’t been over here in a while.”

Right, now… why is that? Was he always just considerate of your schedule and decided it would be easier for you if he came over to your apartment instead?

“Mingyu,” you fix the strap of your bag on your shoulder as he shoos her back inside his place. “Why is that the case?”

He blinks blankly. “Why’s what?”

“Why is it that I don’t come over often?”

“Oh,” he responds calmly, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his grey sweatpants. “I guess… it’s convenient for you. Sometimes you work long hours, and if we’re gonna hook up, since I’m home earlier anyways, it’s easier if I just come over instead.”

Things are slowly piecing together, despite you not liking the outcome. “Just because it’s convenient for me?”

Mingyu rubs his nape, unsure why you’re constantly probing him with these questions nowadays. Ever since you pushed a confession out of him, it seems that almost every encounter is an interrogation. Truthfully, he doesn’t mind it, but he can’t help but wonder what’s running through your mind.

“Well, yeah. It’s not that convenient for me—I live twenty minutes from you and an additional twenty minutes away from work. Didn’t think you’d want to go through that hassle for me, especially when you’re already home so late, so I figured I’d bite the bullet.”

“Right…” You nod slowly, puffing up your cheeks as you let his response sink in. “So… are we gonna fuck or what?”

It doesn’t take long, but Mingyu already has you on his couch naked with his head in between your legs. He’s already convinced Bobpul to go in a time-out in his room because “Daddy has business to tend to” and as much as you cringed at that comment he told her, all those thoughts washed away the moment he took off your pants.

“Fuck,” you gasp, fingers raking through his soft locks before tugging it slightly. He lets out a grunt against your core, and the sensation makes you close your legs but his firm palms press against the inside of your thighs to keep them apart. “Right there—”

In the midst of his mouth doing wonders, you can’t help but notice the dip in his hips and the subtle movements he makes with his lower body. Just before you could address it, your head falls back onto the armrest of his couch with a clench of fistfuls of his hair.

“Shit,” you hiss through your teeth, your own body lifting up from the couch and Mingyu grounds you back onto the leather with his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs. You’re so alluring like this; the sweat droplets accumulating on your forehead, your inability to keep your eyes onto him, and the way your pretty lips part, almost letting yourself release his favorite sounds. But you’re stubborn, so unless he does an exceptional job, you won’t cave.

“Don’t move,” he commands, a stern stare in your direction then averting it back to your core. His two fingers stroke your slit and parts them; just before you could tell him how gross it sounds when he’s making that weird noise in his throat to gather his saliva, it’s a different sensation when it departs from his mouth and he spits onto your heat.

Shit. When the fuck did he get so good at this?

You can’t help yourself and your hips twitch at the warm impact.

Mingyu slaps your outer thigh. “I said don’t move, baby. Hold still and let me take care of you.”

His tongue lays flat against you at first before he’s sucking on your clit and rotates between that and lapping your slick. The soft gasps and pants that forbiddenly leaves your throat is going to bug you later for being so easy, but the way he knows around your body deserves to hear those moans that he loves so much.

He does this thing where he drags his breath—the heat ghosting over your wetness only stirs the pit of your stomach, reaching closer to your climax. Nose brushing your clit, your lower half snaps up and before you know it, you’re unconsciously grinding on his face.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind it because he pulls one of your holds off his locks and intertwines your fingers before hooking a leg over his shoulder with a tight grip, coaxing you toward him.

You and Mingyu don’t usually hold hands. Unless it’s during sex.

There’s something about this time that feels intimate, and it’s definitely not because he’s trying to make you cum on his tongue.

He’s so determined to get you to finish, but only with using his tongue. Mingyu gives himself a challenge when it’s with you—he wants you to get off of him, and him only, like he’s possessive over you without disclosing it publicly. And when you’re finally able to look down and meet with his darkened stare, it’s that cocky wink that makes you push his head closer to your cunt.

He doesn’t complain. He never does.

Not when his name subsequently comes from your chest with a long, pretty moan. He grunts against you, and the vibrations only spur your climax a little longer.

You don’t notice, but his hips are sloppy and small against the fabric of the couch. The bulge in his sweats is never hard to miss, but with him laying flat on his stomach, you don’t realize. You’d been so caught up with your high, you completely missed him getting turned on and grinding in his pants to match with his tonguing movements to get himself off.

He does that cheesy thing where he pecks your clit before coming up to kiss your lips.

Out of breath, your hooded gaze is all he needs to see to know he did well. It’s when your eyes trail down, almost like you’re ready to jerk him off before your hand halts over the dark spot in his pants.

“Did you—”

“Fuck yeah, I did. That was hot,” he admits, thumb affectionately rubbing against your thigh. “I kinda wanted to fuck so bad.”

You blink, slowly catching up with your breath. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

A smile tugs on his lips. “Because that was equally satisfying. I came in my pants because of you, so don’t worry so much about it, pretty.”

Pretty. When did he start calling you that?

“Um,” you blurt, interrupting this silence growing. “I can… come over here from time to time.”

Curiosity washes over his face. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I just—I think it would be nice if we… you know… took turns. I could come here sometimes, and you could come over to my place other times. Doesn’t… it doesn’t have to always be at my apartment.”

“Okay…” he eyes you suspiciously. “What prompted this?”

Truthfully, you’re not even sure. The words come out faster than your mind can process it. Why did you even say that? What was the point of it?

“Uh, Bobpul seems to miss me.” An excuse pulled from your ass. Nice.

Mingyu doesn’t care about the details. He never does. He’s just happy it’s like this—you in his arms without a burden. So he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a planted kiss on your jaw.

“She does,” and in a soft whisper, he goes, “I missed you too.”

A round, aluminum circle plops onto Hayoung’s desk along with a cup of tea that steams through the opening of the lid. “Here’s your breakfast,” you greet lazily, dropping yourself exactly the same way you did the bagel, except into a nearby chair. “Just as you asked. Chocolate chip bagel with strawberry cream cheese.”

“Oh!” She clasps her hands together like a Disney princess and you shoot a glare at your friend. “My favorite. How’d you know!”

“You.. texted it to me,” you’re on the brink of flicking her, but she’s nice sometimes so you hold yourself back. “Courtesy of Kim Mingyu’s black Amex card once again. How do you even eat something that sweet this early in the morning?”

“Ahh,” she’s opening the aluminum foil as she licks her fingers off any cream cheese that transfers. “The boyfriend paid again.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Not yet,” Hayoung teases with a wink, and strangely a flashback of Mingyu’s head between your legs doing that same gesture heats up your face. You quickly shake your head from these thoughts. Not at work, geez.

Annoyed, you snatch the bagel from her hands and Hayoung pouts. “Let me try this.” Tearing off a piece, you toss it into your mouth before Hayoung steals her breakfast back.

“How is it?”

“Sweet,” you reply shortly, wiping the remnants off the corner of your mouth.

“Nice, reminds you of the lover boy, right? Speaking of, did you see him yesterday? Or perhaps… this morning?”

You’re so stupid for hesitating, but it’s already happened and there’s no going back. “Uh… n… no?”

She snaps her fingers excitedly before chomping on a portion of the bagel. Cheeks full, she does a little giddy movement with her head like she’s accomplished something great.

It’s just her exposing you through your transparent lies.

“Liar! I literally saw you two across the street from the break room window. He walked you to the breakfast cart and paid right there! God, you were right though. He’s buff as shit. His shoulders—”

You push her bagel up into her mouth again with a grimace. “Stop it. Fine, you caught me red-handed. He slept over last night.”

“Again?” She says muffledly in surprise through her food. “This is the third night in a row.”

It’s… true. You don’t straightforwardly tell him that you want him to sleepover lately, but you may have implied that thought. Maybe a couple, ‘it’s so dark out, maybe it’s safer if you stay the night, if you want,’ to even, ‘the weather doesn’t look that great. You’re more than welcome to stay, if you’d like.’ It hasn’t rained a drop in the past couple weeks.

“Fuck buddies can sleep over,” you defend, tapping the sole of your heels on the carpeted floor. “Nothing wrong with that.“

Hayoung quirks a brow. “I didn’t say it was wrong. All I said was if you’re sure he doesn’t have feelings—and he does. So what are you gonna do about that?”

So… what were you?

He’s been spending an awful lot of time here.

But to be fair, you’ve been over at his apartment the same amount of time.

It's been a little weird lately; his toothbrush finds a designated spot in a grey porcelain stand that sits on the counter by your sink, and the lowest drawer of your dresser houses a pair of sweatpants, some boxers, a couple t-shirts, shorts, and a hoodie of his. When you say he’s left a spot in your home, you don’t mean that figuratively.

Although, you don’t seem to have any objections. Lowkey, it surprises even yourself because how could you let him infiltrate your apartment like he’s a boyfriend?

“Hey,” he calls out, interrupting your thoughts. Mingyu’s sitting on the one side of your loveseat, in a hoodie and some basketball shorts as he puts down his phone on the coffee table. “Can I borrow your laptop? I’m trying to help my friend get these tickets to a basketball game.”

“Uh, yeah,” you grab your computer from your desk before handing it over to him. Friend. Since when did he have friends? “What friend is it?”

“Vernon. He says it’s competitive, so I’m gonna try helping him out. If we get extra, we might just resell them.”

With a nod, you plop down beside him, hands on your knees as you bounce your legs impatiently. Friends. He barely ever mentions them in front of you, and you wonder if there’s a reason for it. Was he embarrassed about your relationship? Did he feel weird letting them know what the two of you were? Did he think you weren’t pretty enough to be introduced?

“Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you before back onto your Macbook screen. “What’s up? I’ll never say no to that question.”

You suck in your cheeks to muster the courage to ask. “Why haven’t I met your friends? Or… Or even heard them?”

Mingyu freezes. You don’t want him to lose the tickets, but he’s buffering like a browser with shitty wifi. Snatching the computer off his lap, you tap away. “Which stadium?”

“That one,” he points, but his gaze never leaves your face. “And… to answer your question, I’m not embarrassed of you. I’m a little… embarrassed about myself. They know I’ve been crushing on you for a while and… I know they’re gonna mock me.”

You shove the computer back onto his lap. “Payment please.”

He blinks. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No,” you sigh, laying back onto the couch. “We’re not together, so I don’t really have a reason to be. I was just wondering.”

So in other words, he was ashamed of your relationship.

Later that night, Mingyu is in his element. He’s been trying out recipes recently, ones he found on Youtube of an older Korean lady who likes to cook for her grandkids. Your apron is familiar on his built frame; it’s a little too small for him, but he makes it work nonetheless.

“I have a question,” he says suddenly, but it’s daring because you’re holding a knife while cutting the vegetables he asked you to help with earlier. “It’s about our conversation earlier.”

You stop halfway through chopping. “What is it?”

“Um,” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “My friends are meeting up for dinner tomorrow night. Drinks, food—the whole thing. There’s this place that has really good grilled pork skin, and I think you’d like it.”

“You don’t have to invite me if you don’t want to. I only asked earlier out of curiosity.”

The sizzle of the garlic erupts when it hits the hot oil of the pan, and Mingyu reaches over for the pair of chopsticks stored in one of your drawers. The aroma fills the air, and you could almost hear your stomach rumbling. Grilled pork skin is sounding good right now…

“I’m asking because I finally know that you’d consider going if I asked.”

Should you go?

You guys weren’t a thing—other than for sex, of course. And maybe to keep each other company. You weren’t lonely, if you were being honest, but admittingly, having Mingyu over and by your side felt… nice. Even though you could share moments like these with another friend, something about it being with Mingyu made it different than it normally would be.

You swallow. Well, should you go? It’s the first time he’s ever asked, and the fact that he was brave enough to even invite you was starting to convince you to go.

“… Fine, I guess… I’ll go with you, then.”

You and Mingyu don’t ever really hold hands.

You reiterate this because some weird part of you finds it tempting to just grab his hand right now and let him hold it in the warmth of his coat pocket. Nonetheless, you hold yourself back, opting to snuggle your nose underneath a beige scarf that wraps around your neck.

He holds the door for you, and when you finally step in, a wash of regret falls over your face. You don’t even have to ask—the group of guys that sit around a rectangular wooden table with a ventilator on top and a grill in the middle was enough to give it away.

And also because you spot Hayoung sitting among them.

“What the—”

Mingyu has a hand on your lower back, guiding you toward them and you catch yourself grinding your teeth. This bitch fucking knew Mingyu the entire time.

“Uh, hey guys. This is uh…” He sneaks a glance at you before the group snickers at the awkward silence. “My friend,” he finally concludes, adding your name at the end.

They’re so welcoming when you settle down; Mingyu takes your coat to hang on the rack in the corner along with his own and they take this opportunity to interrogate you.

The questions range from: “How long have you guys known each other?” to “What do you do for work?” to even, “You’re pretty, and you seem humble too. What are you doing with a cocky guy like Mingyu?”

You let out a laugh in response to the overwhelming amount of questions being shot your way, but when that familiar giggle hits your eardrums, you shoot a glare at Hayoung.

It doesn’t seem to faze her because she still has that mischievous grin on her face. You could care less how husky Seungcheol is—he can’t save her.

But you figured to save the confrontation later. First impressions matter, right? And since you’re here with Mingyu—

Wait, why do you even care about what they think of you?

For the rest of the evening, you won’t deny this feeling of family when you’re around Mingyu’s friends. Despite being an outsider, they’re quick to invite you in, and they don’t ever let you feel like a stranger. Plus, it’s kind of nice to see Mingyu in a different light.

He mans the grill, something that’s the norm with him and his friends because he apparently takes good care of them (you learn this from his friend Wonwoo). He often does the cooking when they go on trips together, even taking up the chores when nobody else does. Mingyu’s kimchi jjigae is one to boast about, his other friend, Joshua, adds. It’s the start of the rest of them chiming in their favorite dishes from the ‘master chef’ Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu is oddly… affectionate. Affectionate and romantic, you have to include, surprisingly because with you, he manages to keep things low key. He doesn’t show his emotions, or at least, in this way. He laughs brighter than he does when it’s just with you, and he doesn’t make as many jokes like he is now.

It’s almost like… he’s been holding himself back for the sake of you and your feelings.

Even though he’s busy making sure that all the mouths at the table are fed, he doesn’t forget you. He’ll drop food on your plate every now and then, even giving you the last piece of whatever it is he grills, earning a couple groans from his other friends as you gleefully stuff your cheeks.

He holds his alcohol well; you notice his friends Jun and Hoshi both either get the Asian flush or they would get so drunk that their eyes squint more. But Mingyu? He remains the same, still exhibiting the same amount of charms despite the shots of soju he downs.

And, well, Hayoung?

The entire time, you could feel her stare burning on the side of your face. Not from anger, but from too much pleasure. She’s having too much fucking fun on her end, and you can’t wait to rip her a new one.

“I have to use the bathroom,” she announces, and it’s the alcohol talking because she’s not usually this bold with a statement like that.

Now’s your chance.

“Me too,” you get up from your seat. “I’ll come with you.”

And with a smile exchanged in front of the boys, it’s the last one before you two come out again.

“Ouch!”

“Deserved.”

Hayoung rubs the back of her head with a pout, cheeks tinted pink from the alcohol. “That hurt. What was that for?”

“You acted like you didn’t know who Mingyu was! You knew, which means the bet is off since your ass knew the entire time. That’s cheating, you dickhead.”

“Yeah but you always cheat when we play games, how is this any different!”

“Because you didn’t get away with it!” You rub your face tiredly. “Did you know before I showed you his instagram?”

She has an impish grin plastered on her face. “He showed me a picture of you before you shared his instagram with me. He mentioned how he’s been ‘head over heels’ for this girl for a while, but he wasn’t going to act on it.”

Your shoulders drop. Should you be sad about Mingyu or mad at Hayoung?

“You’re messed up, dummy,” you end up ruffling her hair in lieu of another whack as she whines in annoyance. “Go pee and come back out. Bet is off though.”

Before you walk back to the table, you pause in the midst of your steps to get a better candid view of him.

It’s easy to just say you’re afraid of commitment. The words leave your mouth without many consequences, especially since you’re being honest, right? But why is it when you watch him from here, you see how he is with his friends and how much warmth he radiates? Was he always like this? And if he was, why don’t you ever get a piece of that when you’re alone?

Was that the result of you standing firm on not wanting a relationship?

Now you’re wondering if this was a mistake.

He takes you home that night, saying goodbye to his friends and confirms that the drunk ones have a ride back safely. Mingyu gives and gives—emotionally and physically. Even after a night of grilling dinner for everyone, and making sure everyone has fun safely, he still comes into your apartment with the agenda of taking care of you.

“God,” he rasps against you, hips slowing down because the feeling of you around him was overwhelming. “You feel so fucking good.”

Shit. Why are you starting to notice how pretty he is?

The lines that form between his brows when he furrows them makes you want to trace them with the pads of your fingers. Eyes hooded and mouth gaped open, the sight of him like this has the pit of your stomach fluttering, and when he lets you thread your hands through his hair, it swells your chest.

“Don’t slow down,” you say, barely a whisper, but he shakes his head midthrust and lets out a grunt.

“No, I might cum too fast and you won’t finish.”

Fuck, there he goes again, putting other people before himself. He bumps his nose against yours, lips swollen from all the kissing prior, but he still plants pecks that trail down your jawline. “I want you to feel good,” he hums into your skin.

His breath hints the soju he had earlier, but to be fair, it might be a mixture from yours too. It’s hard to tell if your mind is fuzzy from being inebriated on him or if it’s from the alcohol, but either way, you feel light, like you're on clouds and floating.

His dick is coated in your slick; you’re squelching with each of his hip movements, and it doesn’t help him at all in terms of holding himself back longer. He’s taking each stroke gradually, trying his best not to rush himself because there’s nothing he wants more than to see that expression of ecstasy on your face.

“Please?” You beg inaudibly, hands roaming his bare shoulders. He doesn’t tease you, even though it’s the perfect opening since all your walls are down, but he doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity.

Instead, he abides by instruction, only because a lovely girl like you deserves to be treated well.

He’s weak; in both his heart and physically when you’re so polite—especially during sex. You tend to have up a tough exterior, shielding yourself from anyone who makes an attempt to come in, but when you’re so mannerful even when he’s about to fuck you, he likes to believe that you’re lowering it just a little for him to get to see you better.

“If you say so,” his voice is deep and husky, and you’re not even sure where it comes from. But before you could even make a comment, he abruptly leans back, puts one of your legs on his shoulder before slamming his hips into yours.

The room gets hot and sweaty, the stench of sex fills the air as it always does. Your windows get fogged up and your breaths are heavy, but the ride he takes you on physically quite literally blurs your mind. His body is glistening underneath the dim lights of your room, dark eyes, and words of praise of how good you’re doing taking his dick so well leaves his lips.

And yet, when you’re finally calmed from your high and he stutters in his thrusts before he collapses on top of you, your pussy full of his cum, you don’t feel as close to him as you… want to be. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath again, back rising and dropping with each pant, and your hands roam down the expanse of it.

You don’t usually mind the distance emotionally. He’s only here physically because you ask him to be but tonight feels different.

You want to know how it feels to be loved by Kim Mingyu.

“Last breakfast,” you state firmly, tossing yet another bagel wrapped in aluminum on her desk. The order is different this time; everything bagel with a jalapeño cream cheese from one of your favorite places paired with a bottle of orange juice, all at the expense of Kim Mingyu. “Cheater.”

She knows what she did was wrong, but you know that Hayoung has a disparate perspective of the situation because she smiles like a lunatic. “Oh, come on. I know you’re not actually mad at me. I bet your head is swarming with questions about him and you’re having trouble grasping how you feel.”

Hayoung is a lot of things. She’s very outgoing, has the need to want to please everyone, and she’s generous.

But around you, despite your constant bickering and insults thrown her way, she sticks around like a clueless kid who likes being friends with the mean girl. You thought you were the one with a hard shell—she has that with you while at the same time displaying her vulnerability. She just sees right through you.

You kind of hate it.

But at the same time, you appreciate her.

“I know you think you’re exposing me, but you’re not.” As you’re adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulders, you puff your cheeks in exasperation. “Enjoy your stupid breakfast.”

She juts out her bottom lip, and although you don’t have to stay, for some reason your legs won’t let you move.

“You always tell me that I’m a people pleaser,” yes, she is, “but Mingyu is too. He just wants to see you happy, and if you’re better off with the relationship staying as it is, he’d rather inflict the heartbreak on himself because he gets to see you like this.”

And that hit home.

Honestly, it’s a bit difficult coming to terms that Kim Mingyu has these feelings for you. You’ve never probed further as to when they developed or why he has them, but you’ve spent more time pondering as to how a guy like him, the epitome of what it feels like perfection in the eyes of those around him, in spite of the constant teasing and bullying in his way (they claim it’s to keep him humble), likes… you.

So when you’re back at his apartment, where he lays on his couch leisurely with you resting your head against his chest, he flickers past through the multiple channels on the screen before settling on opening up Hulu.

“Can I ask you something?” You’ve been using that a lot lately, but it seems like the appropriate way to start off this type of conversation.

He looks down at you for a brief moment before going back to search through the plethora of options on Hulu+. “Sure. Even though I’ve told you every time that you should just ask it because I’ll give you a real answer each time.”

“What’s your flaw?”

He stops his actions, to let out a chuckle that vibrates his chest and against your back. “Are you asking me to verbally tell you all my insecurities right now? I don’t think that’s fair.”

It’s easier to talk to him when you don’t have to look at him. Fiddling with the fabric of the fluffy blanket on your lap, you hum quietly before elaborating. “Realistically. Not the flaws you point out about yourself like everyone else does. Flaws that your friends might point out, or even yourself if you had better self awareness.”

Inhaling in a deep breath, he nods as if he gets what you’re asking, and fixes his seating position under you. “Okay, well for one, I’m a hopeless romantic who is also a people pleaser yet here I am, cuddling up with a girl who is supposed to be my friend with benefits.”

You don’t want to look at him, but him saying that urges you to sneak a glare in his direction momentarily.

“I know that you already know that but it’s important to reiterate,” he smiles cheekily before resuming his thoughts as he taps his fingers against the armrest of the couch. “I’m a generally sensitive guy, and that can be either good or bad. I’m clumsy—” You recall the couple times he nearly toppled over a bottle of soju at dinner… while sober. “—but I’m also kind of… I guess, cocky. I know I’m attractive but my friends won’t let me live when I mention it…”

Well, he’s not wrong. There’s a reason why the two of you fuck so frequently. “I’m close to my parents, but it can be seen as… a flaw to some people. I pick my nose in public, but that’s not really a trait I want to change. I tend to put myself in situations I can't get out of because I’m a people pleaser…”

And as he continues to list on, it sort of makes him seem less… intimidating in that sense. He’s human, if you will, and he doesn’t feel out of reach like before. Not… that you were considering it or anything.

“Have you told your mom about me?”

There’s a pregnant pause, and for the first time in that conversation, you genuinely want to see his expression but you hold yourself back from the disappointment.

“I… No, I haven’t. I don’t know how long you’ll keep me around.”

There’s a brief second of dismay, but you’re not sure why it douses you. You weren’t dating, and he wasn’t your boyfriend either, so it makes sense that he didn’t tell her.

So why were you kind of sad about it?

The thought engulfs you wholly for the next two days. Two fucking days and the thought of Mingyu not mentioning you to his parents bothers you. Maybe if he didn’t say he was close to them, you wouldn’t feel this way. But he spends almost every other weekend with them—you were just never brought up in conversation?

And the reasonable part of you would justify his actions with: “who tells their parents about their fuck buddy?”

Doesn’t matter though, when you’re heated, all logic flies out the window.

But hold up—another thought comes to mind. He knew Hayoung this entire time and just pretended that they weren’t friends? Or… the girlfriend of his friend? Either way, the details don’t matter.

On your way home, you click his contact name when it pops up on your dashboard screen. For a second, you even ask yourself why the fuck his name was listed in your ‘favorites’ and when you did that to begin with, but that’s a problem for another time.

“Hey, I can’t really talk right now—”

“You know what I just realized?”

You sound mad. It must’ve worked because whatever he was in the middle of, he found somewhere private to talk instead.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, voice genuinely filled with concern. You’re starting to feel bad for calling now, especially for something that wasn’t even that maddening, but you’re already here and there’s no going back.

“You knew Hayoung the entire time. And you lied. You should’ve told me from the start!”

You could almost hear him running his fingers through his hair. “Listen, we can talk about this later—”

“I’m not done!”

“Love, let’s talk about it in a couple hours, yeah? I’m kind of stuck in the middle of something. I’ll call you back.”

And with that, he hangs up.

Did he just fucking call you love?

Pissed, you decide you’ll go to his apartment instead. Without hesitation, you make a right turn en route to his place.

To say the least, when you arrive at his apartment, standing outside the front door makes you feel awkward once again. The steam sort of blew off, but at the same time, why’d he lie? He’s all talk about having feelings for you, yet he can’t even come out and tell you the truth.

Unlike the other time, your fist bangs against the metal door.

When Mingyu opens the door, the expression on his face doesn’t match the one he normally has when he sees you. There’s no excitement or eagerness—there’s surprise and even a hint of fear.

“We were fighting.” You state, arms crossed over your blouse.

He sighs. “We weren’t fighting, we were discussing. Just because your ears were whistling with steam doesn’t mean we’re in a battle.”

You furrow your brows because he’s both disagreeing with you and he hasn’t moved to let you in yet. “Well, I wasn’t fucking done fighting with you.”

“Mingyu, who is that?”

You freeze.

“Fuck—shit, no, you know what? You’re right, okay, I’m wrong, we were just disagreeing—”

He swings the door open and your plan to escape fails.

“Oh?” A middle aged woman with short curls peeking through her fuzzy beanie has a smile that mimics the one he had when he was with his friends that one night. “Who is this?”

“A friend, mom,” he introduces you to her and she gives him a side eye like they’ve created this secret language that only the two of them know. “She was just stopping by for a bit.”

“A friend, I see,” she emphasizes, glancing between both you and her son. Why did you let your anger guide you through a moment? Mistakes were made. This was what came out of it. Consequences are to be paid.

“I’m—I was just heading out, I—It was good meeting you,” you bow, wishing desperately to get out of this unscathed. When Mingyu said he’d call you later, you should’ve done just that. Fuck. “Uh, I’m just gonna—” You gesture behind you to nothing as if your car was parked right there.

“Mingyu, invite her home tonight to have dinner with your dad and sister. It’s Friday night, you’ve got some time, and it’s not that far of a drive.”

He looks over to you, chocolate eyes peeking through his chestnut colored bangs. “You don’t have to come.”

Well, of course you can’t say ‘no’ when she’s fucking right there. Your mom taught you to respect your elders, and truthfully, she’s got those puppy eyes that make it hard to say decline her offer.

“I… Okay, um, yeah, sure. You can uh… pick me up later, Mingyu.”

He doesn’t even look back at his mom. “You can say ‘no,’ if you want to.”

You never say it.

It’s been a while since you’ve worn a skirt, but you figured it would make you seem feminine and pure if you did. A plaid skirt that ends mid thigh, you pair it with black boots and one of your nicer shirts, even though an oversized cardigan will sit over it.

“Shit,” did Mingyu usually curse outside of sex? “Are you wearing a skirt?”

As you slip into his car, you place your bag on the side before reaching for your seatbelt. “Is it not obvious?”

He doesn’t answer, instead his focus is elsewhere. He clicks his seatbelt off before leaning over to reach yours and locks you in place.

Admittingly, when you’re fucking, you don’t think so much about how close he is to you. But here, where you’re not bumping uglies, all you’re thinking about is how intimate this is, and how much of a gentleman he actually is.

That is, until he rubs your thigh suggestively with a wink before shifting his car into drive.

“It’s not too late to tell me to turn back,” he utters suddenly, a hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on his lap. “I know that this is completely out of your comfort zone and—”

“Maybe I need to get out of my comfort zone,” you interject calmly.

Your own response startles you.

It is outside the realms of what you’re used to, and it’s not something that you sat back and truly thought about. But there’s a piece of you that’s excited to meet his family—as if you actually had a real reason to see them. You weren’t dating and there was nobody to impress, yet the pressure still sits on your chest as a burden. Your hands are sweaty as you grab onto the hem of your skirt, before taking in a deep breath to relax your nerves.

“I just want to let you know that if there’s any moment you want to go home, we’ll leave.”

It would’ve been impossible to leave anyway.

His mom is persistent and adamant, you learn, and those traits are ones that Mingyu also inhabits.

“You should stay the night,” she suggests, and you assume that dinner goes well or else she wouldn’t make it an option. His mom flashes a smile that stretches from ear to ear as she places another bit of the boiled fish dish into your bowl of rice. “Mingyu hasn’t stayed the night here in a while, and it would be nice if the two of you slept in his room. We can have breakfast together tomorrow morning.”

“It’s alright, mom, I’ll stay over another night,” he quickly answers before you can, and his sister chortles in the mid-bite of her pickled cucumber. “I don’t think we’d feel comfortable here tonight.”

“But it’s cold out,” his mom argues back, shoulders slouching in disappointment. “Stay the night.”

“Mom—”

“This time isn’t a question, it’s an obligation.”

Before Mingyu could start a whole altercation with his own mother, you soothingly rub his knee underneath the table to hold him back. “Um, okay, we can stay the night. I could always sleep on the floor.”

“Nonsense,” she waves her hand, and Mingyu’s dad’s face contorts to an intrigued one. What does she have up her sleeve? “We aren’t like those traditional parents. Sleep together.”

You could hear his little sister stifling a laugh from across the table.

“Oh, but we—”

“Alright, mom, you got what you wanted, please don’t get into detail!”

The rest of the dinner is… surprisingly nice. His parents talk about what they’ve been up to lately, and his sister tells everyone about how University is going for her. They occasionally ask you about your life from time to time, from topics between career and family, but they don’t ever make you feel compelled to share every little component of your life.

After eating, his dad mentions something about the TV not working and Mingyu excuses himself to help him. When you offer to wash the dishes, his mom gives you an ‘are you sure’ look but you assure her you’ll be fine.

It’s kind of nice being alone after spending a decent portion of the night trying to show a good face to his parents.

There’s a handful of dishes in the sink to your dismay, yet at the same time, you’re unbothered. It was a breath of fresh air to have a delightful dinner without someone bursting in repressed anger and bringing up family issues that happened years ago. Maybe you’ll have to consider ever bringing Mingyu home.

Shit, wait. Why are you thinking about bringing him home to meet your family? What the fuck is going on?

“Please date him.”

Alarmed, you nearly drop one of the dishes. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot his sister leaning against the countertop. “You heard me. Please date my brother.”

You let out an amused laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

She looks a little fed up. “I know you two aren’t actually dating. But even so, I think you should date. Please. For me.”

Raising a brow, you slip off the pink rubber gloves and hang them on the side of the sink. “How’d you even figure out that we aren’t dating?”

Rolling her eyes, she crosses her arms over her chest. She has on a hoodie that’s about three sizes too big for her, and you assume she probably stole it from Mingyu’s closet. It’s cute. “Because have you met the guy? And our parents? They’re all so fucking lovey and affectionate. If you guys were actually dating, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

“And… you’re sure he does that?”

She tilts her head. “Let’s say he’s brought several girls home.”

Now you’re interested.

A flood of questions fill your head. How many girls has he brought home? Were they close to what kind of person you were? How far did they go? Did they impress your parents? Were they pretty?

Was he in love with any of them?

You mentally shake your head. “Oh. Well, what’s wrong? Why are you so determined for me to date him?”

“Because you’re the only one I actually like.”

Oh, well that’s even more interesting. “What… What was wrong with his exes?”

She sighs like her older brother’s girlfriends were the bane of her existence. “Well, one used to be obsessed with him. She’d even try getting on my good side by coming to see me at school—which is weird. She was so nosy. Then this other one would praise him more than my own mom would. Like, he knows he’s attractive, so why are you feeding into his ego?”

You snort. There were moments where you could sense his cockiness, but he does a good job of hiding that from you.

“And the last one—ugh. She was mean. Like, not even the endearing kind of mean that I’m always acting like toward Mingyu. It was… she just didn’t treat him well, and even if he’s my annoyingly doting brother, he’s still my brother nonetheless and I want the best for him.”

With a slow nod, you turn back to the sink and slide on your gloves once more. “I don’t really know why that would qualify me as a good match for him.”

She gives you that look that dramatic teenagers give when people don’t catch on fast enough. “Because my parents like you. He likes you. But to top it off, you’re the perfect amount of coldness and niceness. You’re respectful. And I’d finally like a girl he dates.”

You chuckle, finishing up the last couple dishes by placing them on the drying rack. “I think it’s sweet that you’re looking out for him.”

“I—”

“It’s time for bed,” Mingyu jumps in, watching her suspiciously before tousling his little sister’s hair fondly. “It’s getting late, and you wanted to study tomorrow. Not to mention that we’re supposed to have breakfast together.”

She stares up at him with narrowed eyes. “Fine.” Then, she steals a glimpse at you with a quick, “think about what I said,” and she ends the night in her room.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you answer shortly. “Um, where’s your room?”

His childhood bedroom, needless to say, is embarrassing. The walls are decorated with posters of cars and half naked women—like he’s got something to prove when it comes to his masculinity. The lights are dim, but you can still make out the writing on the spine of the journals that align his bookcase.

Even when he was younger he was a sensitive guy.

He slowly closes the door behind him, barely creaking a sound other than for a soft ‘click’ of the lock before he pushes you into the wall and abruptly wraps your legs around his waist as he pulls you up just enough to press his hips into yours.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting all night for this.”

“… To fuck in your childhood bedroom that you’ve brought your exes into?”

He freezes in the midst of sucking a spot on your neck, hand resting against the wall by your head. Lifting up his head, his dark eyes meet with yours and a brow goes up in curiosity.

“Are you… Are you acting jealous right now? How’d you even find out that I brought girls home?”

You don’t answer that. “So, did you fuck them in here too?”

In all fairness, now would’ve been the right time for Mingyu to blow up on you. You were being so unreasonable and getting upset over something that you honestly shouldn’t be allowed to get mad over. But when his sister told you about his exes, your stomach began to churn and you could feel the fuel shoot through your veins for your rage.

Instead, he pecks your cheek before pressing his crotch into yours again. You could feel the outline of his dick in his pants against the cotton of your panties, and your only reaction is to swallow.

“Just because I took them home doesn’t mean anything. None of them came in here, which means I never fucked them in here,” he reassures as he rests his forehead against yours. “Now, will you stop being so dramatic and let me fuck you in this cute little skirt? I wanted to take you home and have my way with you but—” he can’t help but grind himself on you, “—they were so fucking stubborn about me staying here. Now I gotta fuck you with like fourteen posters of girls in bikinis watching.”

“Who asked you to put them up?”

“Nobody. I was trying to establish I was a man to compensate for my softness.”

“You feel pretty hard to me.”

Mingyu grunts, hand trailing down to fiddle with your panties when he realizes you opted for a thong tonight. The thought of your bare ass barely covered by the cute skirt you’re wearing has him stirring in his pants. “You’re wearing a thong, too? Did you think you were gonna get fucked tonight?”

You roll your eyes, arms resting on the broadness of his shoulders like it was meant to be there. “No, I just noticed you could see the outline if I wore the cheeky ones.”

“I know you’re mocking me,” he’s moving his hips slowly into yours, “But can you please stop so I can kiss you?”

His lips slot into yours, heated and breathless, yet soft and supple at the same time. It’s wet and loud, his tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth, and his hands cup your ass to grind on his bulge. The fabric of his jeans against your core feels too good that you start moving against him on your own, and he gasps in between your kiss when you hit the tip of his dick.

Mouth sealed to yours, it’s been a while since you two made out for this long. Sometimes when you do it sober, it feels too intimate and real.

But there’s something in the atmosphere tonight that makes this all okay.

It might be because you’re in his childhood bedroom with walls decorated from his youth and gives you a glimpse of who he was as a person before. Or maybe it was the fact that despite all those girls he invited home, none of them got to be in here like you were right now.

Bent over on his bed with your ass up in the air.

Bet they never saw that coming.

He lifts up the skirt and rests it over your lower back as he rubs the exposed skin with the palm of his hand. Your thong is practically sucked in by your pussy and ass, nearly taking his breath with it. “Shit, it’s always been a fantasy to fuck you in a skirt.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“You don’t wear skirts that often,” he states matter-of-factually, admiring the pretty view of you from behind. “But I can't express how grateful I am tonight. You gotta be quiet though, my parents aren’t that far down and I’d like to think my sister is studying and not accidentally overhearing her brother getting his dick wet.”

You roll your eyes but he doesn’t see it. But you could feel a cocky smirk burning into the back of your head. “You don’t need to say it like that.”

He’s so tempted to smack your ass right then for that sharp tongue. But you jut yourself back in anticipation but it never comes. “They’ll hear,” he says, unzipping his jeans to loosen himself from the confines. “But fuck, I wish I could see those cheeks redden because of me.”

“Then stop taking so long,” you snap back, reaching over to push your panties aside only for Mingyu to tug on the string you call your underwear and let it smack against your core. Your mouth gapes open but nothing comes out until you regain yourself again. “If we’re not gonna fuck, I’m going to sleep.”

“I swear you always have something rude to say back.” When he pulls down his boxers, the head is hot and heavy, pre-cum dripping from the slit. His thumb smears it over the tip before pumping himself a couple times until he leans over to rub it on your swollen lips. “Go grab the pillow and stuff your face in it. Can’t have your pretty moans be heard by anyone else.”

You and Mingyu don’t usually hold hands.

But when he has your arm against your back, fingers interlocking with his as he thrusts into your heat, it’s not the same way you want him to. Even if it feels so goddamn satisfying to have his dick practically split you in half, your head goes back and forth from being fuzzy and wishing that fucking wouldn’t always be just… fucking.

“God,” he rasps, voice softer than it usually is when you’re in the privacy of your home. Head thrown back, he gropes your ass as many places as he possibly can while he continuously sinks his cock into you. “How are you so tight every time?”

Biting into the pillow, you’re doing your best to hold back your sounds but he just fills you up wholly that it’s tempting to release a moan. He’d been so turned on from the sight of you in a skirt that he doesn’t even pull his jeans down all the way—the end right below his ass, just enough for him to whip out his dick and fuck you the way he would in his wildest dreams.

Just then, he tugs on your arm to bring your back flushed to his clothed chest. “I’m close to cumming, baby,” he says, the term of endearment swelling your heart. “Tell me how you wanna cum baby, I’ll do it for you.” He leaves a delicate kiss on your shoulder bone and you swear you’d fall in love with him right there.

But you’re in his parents’ house, fucking secretly in his childhood bedroom, you remind yourself.

“Fuck me like this,” you pant, his slowed movements and the new position hits that sweet spot. “I’m close.”

He does as he’s told—he’s always obedient when you ask for something, even though you could be a bit more mannerful when you do. But Mingyu turns into putty when it comes to you, so even when you’re moody, he just wants to please you.

He’s got one of your arms to remain behind you and his hand presses down against the highest part of your ass to help arch your back. His hips quicken it’s pace, but the impact from his body to yours is gentler than usual to prevent the sound of your skin slapping, no matter how much he wants it.

“Baby,” there’s that nickname again that falls out of his pretty lips. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, completely fucked out and almost succumbing to his needs but he’s patient and waits for you.

“Keep going,” you huff, hair messy and drool slipping from your lips but you can’t even bring yourself to care. “I’m—”

“Shit,” he sputters, hips pressed against yours as you see whites in your lids, legs locking straight at the same time as he fills you with ropes of his cum. You’ve never finished in unison before, but there’s a first time for everything.

And when you’re all cleaned up, he lends you a hoodie of his to sleep in. He’s comfortably got his arm wrapped around your frame from behind, and once the reticent snores come from behind, you realize your thoughts are in shambles.

You’re at his fucking parents house, in his childhood bedroom where the two of you just had sex and he’s here sleeping with you in this little ass bed like the two of you are some domestic couple.

You're in way too deep.

What the hell is with you? You’re not allowed to be annoyed. You’re definitely not allowed to be standing here on the sidelines with your arms crossed and the sole of your shoe tapping against the ground like you’ve got a good reason to be looking disappointed.

The girl is gorgeous—but of course she is because every girl that has the confidence enough to bat their lashes to the guy that could pass as a model is going to be. Her hair is blunt, straight, dirty blonde, and her lips are painted in the prettiest cherry red that makes you want to draw on her face with that lipstick.

“Don’t worry about her,” Seungcheol says, interrupting your thoughts. He’s got tongs in his hand, making his way toward the plate of raw steak for him to grill. Seungcheol decided that maybe eating out that often wasn’t good for everyone’s wallets (even though he definitely could’ve paid, but he said he was saving money for something sparkly). “She’s just some girl he dated back in high school.”

In fucking high school?

“Doesn’t that make her his first love?” You prompt, turning to watch as Seungcheol struggles with the beef. Quickly, you snatch the tool from his hands and help him place it on the charcoal burning grill. He lost one piece earlier—you didn’t feel like witnessing him losing another.

“Possibly,” he states nonchalantly. “But he likes you now, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“We’re not dating,” you remind Seungcheol, but he shrugs as he pokes the meat. “This isn’t like you and Hayoung. Mingyu and I don’t have a real exclusive label.”

“Yeah but Kim Mingyu is a hopeless romantic. So if he’s got heart eyes for you, that’s all there is. Just you.”

You could believe what Seungcheol says, but of course he’s going to side with Mingyu. That’s his friend! If anything, he’s doing his best to keep Mingyu in a good light in your eyes, but you can see everything transparently.

“Oh my god, Kim Mingyu! You’re so funny!” She slaps his bicep playfully, and that smile that pulls from cheek to cheek on his face makes you want to punch it off. He’s not even that funny. You bet what he said to make her laugh doesn’t even warrant an arm slap. She’s just being flirtatious.

Your jaw clenches at the sight of her.

You really had no right to feel this way—he wasn’t even your boyfriend. And yet somehow, you get looped in to have this barbecue with his friends, and they welcome you with ease.

Guess they’re super friendly with everyone because Hyemi is over here playing some game with Mingyu like he doesn’t have his girl—

Wait. Pause.

You are not his girlfriend.

“You’re jealous,” Hayoung has a smug look on her face but you shoot a glare in her direction. “Come on, just admit it. You found out she was his first girlfriend and she broke his heart, but she’s here now to make it better and you hate it because well… you want him to be yours.”

You grimace. You hate her guts. Whether you mean Hayoung or Hyemi doesn’t matter. “Shouldn't you like… be more concerned if your billionaire boyfriend can put meat on the grill without it being seasoned by the ground first?”

She frowns. “He’s stupid but he’s trying.”

Rubbing your face tiredly, you snatch your wine cooler on the table. Truthfully, you don’t even like these. They’re overly sweet, probably a shit ton of calories, but whatever. You needed alcohol and this was it. “I’m going back inside. I’m just grumpy because I didn’t eat yet.”

“Rigggghtttt,” Hayoung teases, and she always has to have the last word. Today, you’re just not in the mood to fight her for it, so with a wave, you head back inside through the sliding glass door.

You need a break. Maybe from this, meeting Mingyu’s friends, or just him in general. It feels wrong to be upset at him for reconnecting with a lost love, someone who can clearly state her feelings for him verbally and physically when you’re in here trying your best not to throw a rock at him.

But he seems to feel differently when he enters the house.

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu asks, concern washed over his face. “You were having fun earlier. Do you feel sick? Should I take you home?”

“Mingyu, what are we doing here?” You sigh, dropping your hands to your sides, watermelon Seagrams long forgotten.

“Having a barbecue at Seungcheol hyung’s house,” he scratches his head. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.”

“You—ugh,” you know you’re being absurd, but you can’t even read your own emotions properly. “Hyemi is such a good candidate to be your girlfriend. Why aren’t you with her?”

“Ahh,” he says, his expression softening because he’s understanding the situation a whole lot better than you are. “You’re jealous. And—listen, it’s fine. I get jealous too sometimes, it’s natural. But I’m yours. Even if you’re not ready to have me as your boyfriend. I told you already.”

“But… why not… her?”

You spot her outside by the underground pool, flipping her hair over her exposed shoulder with a tattoo of some date that outlines it. She looks like the girl you’d see in a magazine that’d be standing right next to Mingyu.

You can’t help but look down at your tummy. Hm. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten that extra taco last night. But it was fucking good.

“Because—honestly, I don’t owe you a real explanation. This,” he gestures to the two of you, “is what I want. I get that I have to drill it into your head, but can’t I have a break just for tonight? I’m drunk, I wanna have fun with friends, and convincing you that I’m dedicated to you is something I love to do, just not maybe tonight.”

And, he’s right.

Maybe you’re just being dramatic, so you mutter out a quiet apology that he’s never seen you ever do before you pat the firmness of his chest awkwardly before making your way out to the backyard once again.

You won’t burden him with any of this for the rest of the night. Problems like these should stay at home.

You don’t even reach your front door and Mingyu is already trying to swoon you.

It’s most definitely the alcohol talking, but his lips taste so fucking sweet that you swore you’d get cavaities if you had enough of them. The space in the front seat of his car is tight, even though he’s already pushed it all the way back, but you blame his abnormally long legs.

You thank whomever it was that convinced Mingyu to get his windows tinted. Was it Joshua? Seungcheol? Vernon?

Ah, you don’t actually care. His dick is too far in for you to even have an intelligible thought.

“Move your hips, baby,” the ends of his hair stick to his forehead, drenched in his sweat. The windows fog from the heat that lingers atop your skin and your bated breaths. “Ride me.”

Hand gripping onto the armrest attached to the door, the other is on his shoulder to guide you. The barbecue barely ended an hour ago, and the two of you were supposed to just go home and shower before heading to bed, and somehow, despite getting an Uber, he thought hopping into his car out front to fuck sounded appealing.

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

There’s absolutely a thrill that comes with fucking in a car in public for that matter, even if your head is full of just pleasure that Mingyu’s cock is delivering. He’s got his hands resting on your hips to help with your movements, and it seems to be working a little too well because it’s barely ten minutes in and he’s already about to hit his peak.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You mock, leaning down to press your forehead against his. His swollen lips are so desirable, and you could spend days just kissing them. “Wanna cum?”

“So badly,” he pants, eyes hooded. “Will you let me?”

“Only if you let me ride you to get myself off after,” you hum, your hips getting sloppy due to his messy guidance. “Will you let me use you for just a little longer?”

And with those puppy dog eyes, his lips part just barely with words as low as a whisper. “Anything for you.”

You want to scream. Pull your hair out, maybe. Or even just fling yourself across the city because it’s the only way to get yourself out of feeling this way.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

Hayoung is a broken record that doesn’t want to be fixed. “Because I don’t know how I feel,” you drop yourself into your seat, puffing your cheeks. “I can’t tell what I’m going through.”

“Um, not to be that person but you sound like you’re in love with him.”

She sounds stupid.

“Hayoung, you’re supposed to be helping me, not making fun.”

Her mouth drops open with a gasp. “Bitch, I’m trying to tell you that you’re head over heels for a boy who is equally smitten! What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” you whine, purposefully slamming your head onto the edge of your desk. “I’m gonna sound insane whenever I talk about him. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Whether or not you eventually end up taking Hayoung’s advice, you’ll never tell her because there’s nothing worse than Hayoung with an inflated ego.

“I don’t know, dummy, maybe tell him that you like him. You’re practically already a couple, you’re just too dense to come to terms with the fact that you want this to have a label.”

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe.

Only because for the second time, you want to throw something at both Hyemi and Mingyu.

He invites you out for a night at the club; his friends were celebrating the news that Seungcheol was ready to propose to Hayoung, ring picked out and everything. He brags how he managed to find her Pinterest, (he’s so stupid, he didn’t do anything but ask you and you shared the link), and although she’s here tonight with the group, she doesn’t know the main reason for it.

But you think coming here was a mistake. Mingyu can handle soju, you learn, but whiskey makes him bold.

He’s on the main floor with his friends, dancing the night away, but you’re too burnt out from a long day of work to truly enjoy yourself. It’s hard to miss how there always seems to be a new girl by his side, trying to get his attention by showing off their moves on him. Your third glass of mojitos is sadly empty once again, and you call over the bartender for another.

“You’re having a lot,” Hayoung comments, resting her arm against the counter as she watches you cheekily. She’s got on this pretty pastel teal dress with white flowers and a cowl neck that you’re sure Seungcheol would find any opportunity to look into. “Is it because Mingyu has Hyemi’s ass rubbing on his crotch right now?”

God, she’s annoying. She’s lucky she’s your friend.

The bartender hands you another drink, this time a moscow mule because you’ll never drink for torture, even if the amount of sugar will become the bane of your existence tomorrow. You’re going to hate yourself because of the migraine that comes with a hangover, but that’s for the future version of yourself to care about.

“Whatever,” you sing, the alcohol is definitely in your bloodstream. “I’m so sick of this game of cat and mouse we keep playing.”

Hayoung is tipsy but still doesn’t give. “You’re literally the only one playing the game,” she stomps her foot on the floor. “He’s been so patient! Stop being so mean.”

“I’m not,” you frown. “I’m super nice.”

She rolls her eyes, stealing a sip of your drink before looking at you, impressed. “Oh, this is good. But back to the main point—no, you’re not. And the fact that he’s been waiting for this long means he’s crazy for it. Stop wasting his and your own time! What if he stops liking you because you don’t give him any signs?”

“Pfft,” you take a huge gulp of your drink. “Finish this. He’ll do anything I ask him to do. Watch me.”

Her eyes don’t leave you as you weave through the crowd, eyeing the girls around him suspiciously before pulling him down to your height for you to whisper into his ear.

He’s so weak for you that it would be sad if you weren’t the same exact way.

Mingyu doesn’t respond, but he takes your hand in his and follows your lead out from the sweaty crowd of people and toward the bathroom section. Hayoung doesn’t miss the subtle wink from you as you leave.

You and Mingyu don’t usually hold hands.

But when it doesn’t take much for you to convince him to guide him away, hand in hand, both slightly intoxicated, it confuses you if the warmth in your chest and face are from the amount of drinks you had or if he’s making you feel this way.

When it’s just barely quiet enough, he tugs on the side of your satin black dress close to him. “What is it, baby?”

Like you said, whiskey makes him bold.

“Let’s fuck.”

“H-Here?” He stutters, eyes widening because despite wanting to have sex in his car, Mingyu isn’t as undaunted as it seems. “Where?”

“In the bathroom,” you answer, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt like you’re in a daze. Hooded gaze with a dreamy look in your irises, he learns early on that you’re flirtatious and a bit affectionate when you’ve got enough alcohol in your system. He feels his heart tighten when you tilt your head to the side and jut out your bottom lip cutely. “Please?”

It doesn’t take long, but when one of the bathrooms becomes vacant, the two of you shuffle your way in. You’re thankful that there’s enough of them here to suffice the crowd.

The bathroom is horrid.

It’s disgusting in almost every part, but the alcohol and the sight of those girls in skimpy outfits has your adrenaline rushing. There’s toilet paper that cascades down the sink to the toilet and down to the floor, graffiti drawn on the walls, and before your head could fall into a rabbit hole, he pushes you against the door.

“Don’t let yourself touch the door, just your dress,” his head slides into the crook of your neck as he peppers kisses along the outline. “It’s gross in here, but if baby wants to fuck, fucked she’ll be.”

“Mm,” you hum, fingers finding a grip on the back of his neck. “Can you answer something that’s been on my mind lately before you rail me?”

He snorts at your bluntness. “Yes? You know the answer to that.”

Bumping foreheads with yours, he brushes his nose into yours in the process. “Why’d you lie about Hayoung?”

You’re reasonable now, you’d like to think. Calmness is brought upon the storm you came in with that night of Mingyu’s family dinner, but the lying still hadn’t been addressed.

“… She asked me to pretend not to know,” he admits solemnly. “She’s been feeling bad for me lately because she thinks you’re playing me. I get her concern, and she’s been asking me about it for a while, so I told her that this would be the only time.”

“Okay,” you mutter softly, thumb brushing against his skin gently. “I believe you.”

“Do you still wanna have sex?” He asks quietly, volume matching yours. Somehow, drunk and in the most disgusting bathroom at the nightclub, friends outside and possibly a line of people waiting for their turn, he manages to make this romantic.

“… Kinda, yeah,” you answer truthfully, heat flushing in your neck in bashfulness. “If, uh… you’re okay with it.”

Why the fuck are you acting all shy for? Why are you pretending like you’re not the one who dragged him in here for a quickie?

Mingyu chuckles as if he reads your mind while lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist. “Like I said before—whatever the baby wants, she gets.”

He looks handsome even under these shitty lights. Hair gelled back with a couple strands that fell over his forehead, skin dewy and lips a subtle rosy pink, his sultry gaze into yours and you’d be lying if you said that your heart wasn’t racing. His hand lingers on your thigh momentarily before it slides up, riding up your dress to expose the skin, and your palms wander to the firmness of his chest.

“We gotta make it quick,” you warn, ghosting your lips over his. “There’s a queue outside.”

His mouth curls into a small smile, and he reaches down to unbuckles his pants. Without even removing it, you could already see the outline of his cock and you’re tempted to bend down to suck him off but you’re both in a time crunch.

Freeing his dick from the confines of his boxers, his tip is red and angry as he runs his hand over his length, lips parting at the feeling of contact. He strokes himself a couple times, tightening his grip in semblance to when you clench around him before his eyes shoot up, lashes so gracefully long when they brush against the highs of his cheeks. “Spit on it.”

Warmth blossoms in your lower stomach. “You—You want me to spit on it?”

When he eats you out, it’s messy and wet; there’s nothing more that turns you on than when he spits on your folds. But in return, you’re not quite sure if you’ve ever directly… spat on his cock before.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, slowing the pace of his fisting. “I wanna see how pretty you are when you do.”

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and watches as your lips purse and drop a string of saliva onto the head of his cock and he lets out a moan at the sight. Pumping himself, he pushes you back up against the door higher before pressing his thumb against your core through your panties.

“So cute,” he whispers closely, despite the bass vibrating against the door, you can still hear him loud and clear. “So good for me. Can you keep being a good girl for me and let go for me? I wanna hear you—and I doubt anyone can hear you with all this music.”

You’re not usually this timid, but now that you have his attention that the hoard of girls were trying to obtain, you can’t help but feel special. Nodding slowly in compliance, his stare darkens as he pulls your thong to the side and rubs the head of his cock against your folds. “Remember, I wanna hear you.”

He’s rough when he fucks you tonight; quick with pounds against the door that you struggle to hold your grip on his shoulders, but his arms are built for a reason and you jokingly mention that it’s to hold you during moments like these.

“Shit,” he curses, and the same word goes through your head repeatedly like a chant. Mingyu still looks so comely, even though his forehead glistens with sweat as his head falls back, lost in the pleasure of you, unable to hold himself back from his own grunts.

You and Mingyu don’t usually hold hands. But when you both reach your highs and he insists on cleaning you up, helping you fix your hair and your dress, your head gets full of ideas that you’re not familiar with. And what takes it home is when he interlocks your fingers with his, clasping them together, and guides you out of the bathroom like the two of you didn’t just have sex in a public space.

When you meet with the group again, Hayoung gives you that look, like she knows what you’ve been up to. You can’t help but laugh, and turn your head away, slightly embarrassed but when you’re standing beside him with his hand on your lower back, you feel… safe.

Then he parts from you, briefly mentioning how he’s going to get drinks, you notice Hyemi approaching him again with stomps and a whine once he reaches the bar, grabbing onto his arm with a frown on her face. You can barely make out most of the words she says, but the ones that you do hear are enough to have your blood boiling.

“She doesn’t even want to label your relationship! Stop wasting your time with her!”

And she’s good, you admit, because she ruins your night from just two sentences. The thoughts flood your head like a tsunami, the waves of ideas that lead to overthinking take over that you don’t realize he’s gesturing you over to the exit to call it quits for the night.

“We’ll go down a couple blocks, the main street is a bit of a walk,” he advises before glancing down at your heels. You stumble a little over the cobblestone but pull your jacket closer to your frame. “Want me to carry you? Your feet look like they hurt.”

“No,” you huff, brows furrowing. “Go ahead first. I’ll be behind you.”

He looks at you with an unsure expression, but does as he’s told anyway because Kim Mingyu is a people pleaser. He tries his best to make people happy, goes out of his way to help his friends, and takes care of them because that’s how he expresses love. He picks his nose in public, but it’s a trait he doesn’t want to change, and his favorite pastime is to cook, testing out new recipes and trying new foods.

Another thing about Kim Mingyu is that he’s been crushing on his stupid friend with benefits but he chooses not to do anything about it because of your dumb fear of commitment.

“Hey!”

He flinches and stops in his steps. Turning around, he’s got confusion written all over his face. “Yes?”

You’re puffing like the Big Bad Wolf does in the story, ready to blow him over and knock him down. “I’ve got a question.”

There’s that show stopping smile again. God, you just want to smack it off his face. “You know my answer to that,” he says, and it’s a phrase he’ll reiterate each time you bring it up.

“Why didn’t you ever ask me if I like you?”

He blinks blankly as that smile of his dissipates. “What?”

You heave out a heavy breath of your nerves. “How come you never wondered if I ever reciprocated your feelings? If I—I don’t know, if I ever feel like I can’t breathe around you, not because I feel suffocated, but because I have so many feelings that I’m not even sure what to do. Or that—gah, I don’t know, if I ever wanted to kiss you but not in the way we do before sex, but in a… loving way, like when we say our goodbyes in the morning before we head off to work. Maybe, I’m just throwing it out there, if I felt like girls like Hyemi are always one step closer to you because they’re more verbal and affectionate, more in tune with their emotions, if you will, and I’m still confused on how to express it better,” and for a brief moment, there’s a pregnant pause before you continue.

“And… if you ever think about what it’s like to hold my hand—in your pocket on winter days where it gets too cold and you want an excuse to do it. Or when we’d just… stand side by side, no words exchanged, but the moment feels right. Don’t you ever just—I sound so stupid for saying this—don’t you just want to slide your hand into mine, and be able to call me yours in front of your friends?”

He doesn’t speak, mostly out of courtesy in case you had more to say. But the length of the silence is maddening; all that runs through your head is the possibilities of what he wants to say, if he lost feelings in the process and if he was afraid to tell you.

But when he feels like it's the right second, he reaches out to you. “That was more than one question,” you swallow as you watch him, still planning for the worst.

“Do you like me back?”

For the first time in a while, you feel the weight lifting off your shoulders. “I… I do like you.”

There’s that cheeky grin again, and he snatches your hand to hold in the depths of his coat pocket. “I don’t have a heat pack,” he warns, tugging you close before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. “But I’ll keep you warm instead.”

“You’re disgusting,” you comment, nose scrunching up at the response.

“I am,” he chuckles, leading you down the empty streets with the signs from the storefronts reflecting on the wet walkway from the rain earlier, some even flickering in the lettering of the display. “But you like me anyways, and I like you ‘cause you’re so honest about it.”

Despite the waves of uncertainty and confusion, the ocean of emotion is finally calm.

“Show me one more time.”

Hayoung gives you a glare that would mistakenly be identified as annoyed, but you know her better by now. She rolls her eyes, sighs dramatically before pretending to push her hair back again.

There’s that sparkly thing he was talking about.

“Geez,” you say incredulously, grabbing her hand into yours for a better view. “This is the workings of a billionaire.”

“Seungcheol is not a billionaire,” she shoots back and you shrug.

“He’s rich, same shit. Money starts looking the same when you hit that bracket.”

“You’re acting like Mingyu isn’t stacking,” Hayoung reminds you, and the mention of his name makes your insides feel like a middle schooler talking about their crush. On the outside, however, you do a good job of having an exterior.

“Whatever.”

“Speaking of,” she teases, never failing to wave her engagement ring that adorns her finger when she gets the chance to, but you don’t blame her. If you had a pretty ring, you’d be showing it off too. “How are you two?”

“We’re not talking about this,” you say, hoping to end the conversation there.

“Oh, come on!” She whines, throwing her hands in her lap. “Our boyfriends—oh whoops,” Hayoung jokes, winking in your direction and you can’t help but release an amused scoff. “My fiancée and your boyfriend are friends. Let’s gossip and rant about them together.”

Shaking your head, a smile is hard to suppress at her constant tugging on your sweater sleeve to lure you in. “Come on,” she reaches over to tap your cheek adoringly. “I’ve never seen you this happy before, you grump. Tell me what he does that gets you all warm inside.”

“No,” you’re trying to pry her fingers off, and you fake a gasp before grabbing her hands once again. “Are you—dare I say—engaged?”

“Alright, no more faking, it’s not fun with you anymore.”

Before you could mock her any more, Mingyu approaches the two of you and leans over to rest his palm on the back of your chair.

Even when you’re his, and he’s yours, he still steals the breath from your lungs. He stands so close, and although you both have been sleeping together for the longest time, his gestures are ponderous with more meaning behind them now.

“Sorry to cut the party short, Hayoung, but we gotta head home, my mom wants us to have breakfast with her tomorrow.”

Hayoung shoots an ‘oh?’ stare in your direction and you badly want to flick her arm.

“Don’t,” you eye her suspiciously and she raises her hands up in defeat.

“Let’s go, babe,” he calls out, handing over the jacket he grabs for you on his way over. Though the nickname from someone else makes you cringe, from him, it’s endearing. “And congrats, Hayoung, Cheol’s been so anxious about how to do it, I’m glad he finally did.”

As he says his goodbyes to his friends, he doesn’t fail to sneak his hand to his back to reach for yours, sliding your fingers together to lock them tight.

A few hours earlier, when they'd been simultaneously trying to follow two recipes and keep her small kitchen tidy, all she cared about was ensuring that nothing spilled. But somehow, when it came to them, even that was expecting too much.

"Jungkook, hand me the spring onions."

"Wait - where's the chilli powder? The sauce is already thickening."

"It's in that cupboard over there, I think," she said hurriedly, pointing vaguely in the direction of the cabinets. "Under the cornflower. Can you hand me the spring -"

"Oh, fuck, that's spicy!" Jungkook hissed, screwing his eyes shut as he exhaled heavily through his mouth.

"Well, you aren't supposed to taste it, just smell it," she said, rolling her eyes but reaching over to take the powder from him anyway. "And can you - okay, you know what? I'll get the spring onions myself."

"I think my mouth is on fire."

"Can you put the cut onions in the other pot, babe? They won't cook otherwise."

"Okay, where is -"

"Other side of the stove," she began, but Jungkook  found it by then. Maneuvering around her and reaching for the cutting board, he dropped the onions into the pot, a loud hiss and stinging vapour emanating instantly.

"Lower the heat, Kook!"

"I - oh, God, the sauce!" In a rather chaotic sequence of events, Jungkook lunged for the abandoned chilli powder while the sauce bubbled away on the stove, the same time that Lia suddenly remembered that she'd forgotten the noodles altogether.

As they slammed into each other, Lia turned suddenly to close a cabinet door just as Jungkook appeared behind her, and the edge of the door scraped his shoulder with an audible sound.

"Shit, Kook, I'm so sorry!" All thoughts of spring onions forgotten, she looked around frantically for any empty space on the counter to place them and free her hands, before turning to Jungkook. "Are you okay?"

He nodded wordlessly, head lowered as he clutched his right shoulder with his left hand, his knuckles white as he pressed down. She turned off the stove and reached for him, gently coaxing his hand away.

"Lia, it's okay -" He tried to say, shaking his head but she ignored him, guilt bubbling small and deep inside of her. 

"Take off your shirt," she instructed, tugging at the bottom of it. He looked for a moment like he was going to argue but slipped his long-sleeved black t-shirt over his head, his thick hair tousled as he emerged.

"Show me," she said softly, turning him around so she could get a look at it. Taking a step back, she cleared a small space on the edge of the kitchen counter and hopped up onto it, now at eye level with his shoulder.

It was a gash; while the skin remained unbroken, it puckered, a clear red where the edge of the cabinet had run clean along the muscle. Lia touched it lightly before pausing, waiting for his reaction.

"Does it hurt?" she asked anxiously, running her finger over the four inch mark and immediately stopping when he hissed.

"Not really," he said tightly - but she could see his head still lowered and his fists clenched, and she sighed. Jungkook's need to pretend like he didn't feel pain was as unnecessary as it was predictable, but she wasn't fooled.

In an unusual moment of tenderness, she reached over slightly and kissed it. She heard him gasp and paused again, lips still against his skin.

"It's really okay, Lia." His voice was level and controlled, a little too deliberately. "I'm fine." 

A bit confused, she backed away slowly, touching the injury once more. Jungkook inhaled again, his breathing ragged, and her heart tugged as she wondered guiltily how much her lack of organisation in the kitchen had hurt him.

"Okay…" she murmured, dropping her hands from his shoulders, frowning when he immediately reached for his t-shirt and slipped it on. "Do you want to finish cooking?" she asked, hopping off.

"No, you go ahead," he answered quickly, still not looking fully at her. "I'll - I'll eat later."

Lia's heart dropped. Was he really that angry with her? Jungkook wasn't one to have a very short temper, apart from the occasional tantrum here and there where he usually caught himself in time.

He was almost out of the kitchen when she suddenly hopped over and grabbed his arm. "Kook, wait."

"Lia, I just need -"

But she cut him off, tugging at his arm to get him to face her, moving right in front of him so he wouldn't have a choice. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would get so messy but -" She paused abruptly, wondering if that could possibly be what she thought it was. 

Next to her, Jungkook froze, his eyes shut tightly. Lia bit her lip, staying in the same spot but moving her body slightly closer… just to confirm.

"Jungkook," she began lightly, "is that your phone in your pocket?"

"Um…" The arm she was holding flexed, and she could feel his sinewy forearm tremble. "... yes?" He twitched again, and this time the movement was unmistakable through his joggers.

"Really?" Lia asked in a hushed voice, hearing the wonder in it.

By the way he didn't answer right away, it was clear that he knew she wasn't asking about the proverbial phone in his pocket. Finally opening his eyes but still not looking at her, he nodded. "M-hm."

"I…" She didn't quite know how to respond - but the expression on his face combined with what she was feeling against her hip made her stomach flutter. "Since when?"

"A while."

When he didn't elaborate, she slid her hand lower to his tattooed one and linked her fingers with his. Her gaze flickering to the dent in his joggers, she raised a hand to feel it but paused, hovering less than an inch away from it.

"Just scratches?" she asked calmly, her voice just a murmur.

"N-no." Jungkook swallowed. "I mean… sometimes. Scratches, pressure… heat." Down below, his erection twitched, rising into her palm.

Lia's toes curled against the bare floor of her kitchen. She palmed him gently, raising her gaze to see him looking right back at her, this time with less embarrassment. "What else?" she asked quietly.

Now, she knows what else.

Jungkook lies on her bed, fully naked but for black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. His hair, uncut now for weeks, is long and slightly wavy on her white pillowcase. Lia sits beside him in a tank top and her underwear, a jar of warm honey she's just heated, a wooden ice cream spoon resting on the top of the jar.

"Are you sure?" she asks again, hearing the doubt in her own voice.

"Yeah," he mutters, gaze meeting hers. He seems… nervous, but in an excited sort of way, from what she can tell. It's like he's about to go bungee jumping or something - except she doesn't have a lot of second hand reviews of the experience in this case.

She can't help but press on. "You promise you'll ask me to stop the moment you're uncomfortable?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Okay." She doesn't move. From the bed, Jungkook raises his eyebrows.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Me? Yeah, of course." She shifts her hips on her heels from where she's kneeling next to him. Placing a hand on his muscular thigh in a mostly comforting manner, she squeezes it slightly.

"Do you remember the safeword?"

Jungkook nods obediently. "Mango."

Lia lets go of his thigh, satisfied. "Okay, then." She takes a deep breath, dipping the tip of her finger into the honey and wincing slightly at the heat before sucking at it. “Here we go.”

His eyes flutter shut and for a moment, Lia simply watches him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, like always. But he’s also ambitious, like always, which includes being so in bed. She has no reason not to trust him; it’s not inconceivable that he may have discovered kinks in his twenty-seven years of life that may be new to her, but his determination to see things through is enough to make her momentarily cautious. The image of a basketball flying through the air flashes through her mind and she shudders, trying to concentrate.

She dips the small wooden spoon into the honey and watches the thick, golden substance cling onto it and drip. Leaning forward, she dips the spoon again and this time takes it out of the jar over his body, watching the warm liquid drip onto the centre of his chest.

Jungkook gasps, but his eyes stay closed. The honey flows, slow and thick between his pectorals, the colour looking incandescent against his tan skin. Bending down and keeping her gaze firmly planted on his face, Lia reaches to lick the honey in one long stroke. It’s sweet, naturally, but not overtly so, and less hot on her tongue than when she’d felt it with her finger.

“Oh, fuck…” His whisper is low and throaty, and it almost sounds like he’s spoken without realising it. Slightly more confident, she swings one leg over his hips to straddle him, feeling his semi against her crotch. Noting the pleasurable squirm in her core at the feel of it, she dips the spoon into the jar again, this time gently dropping a dollop of honey on his sternum, taking care to let it trickle as much as it can, until it stops just above his belly button.

She places the jar next to him on the bed and, taking care to grind against him, leans forward to lick it off. Next to her, Jungkook’s fists clench again, this time with the sheets in his hands. Looking up at his face, Lia can’t resist any longer. Kissing his torso along the sternum and up his chest, sucking at the slightly sticky skin, she reaches up to his jaw.

“God, you’re so hot,” she murmurs, feeling him twitch against her again, big and hard this time. She brushes her lips against his jaw and down his neck, stopping right next to his bobbing Adam’s apple, her breath warm against it. Sliding one hand up his chest, she covers his right pectoral lightly, her fingernails scraping the muscle.

Jungkook whimpers, his neck arching back on the pillow. “Lia…”

Lia’s stomach flutters and she rolls her hips into his a bit more, biting her lip to stop herself from making a sound. “Yeah,” she whispers against his skin, bringing her fingertips lower so they brush against his areola. Underneath her, his cock gives the biggest twitch yet.

He swallows. “Honey…” He seems incapable of saying any more.

She pauses, wondering if she’s understood him right. Backing up slightly, she looks at his face again, at his closed eyes, the slight frown, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. Reaching silently for the honey, she dips the spoon in again, this time hesitating over his right pectoral. Evidently able to feel the heat, Jungkook nods, screwing his eyes shut even tighter.

Alright, then. Tilting the spoon, she watches the golden liquid drip onto his tan chest, down the curve, trickling down to his nipple. The sight makes her clit throb unexpectedly.

Jungkook gasps but doesn’t open his eyes, while his cock now strains against his underwear. Lia reaches over him again, slower this time and taking care to press her body to his, feeling the contours of his abdominal muscles against her own. She feels his hands touch her thighs, holding them gingerly as she touches her tongue to his skin, licking the honey off again, pressing her tongue to it and swirling it around his nipple. His hands react immediately, squeezing her flesh, while his pulsates against her clit.

“Oh, God,” he whimpers again, and Lia has to bite her lip from making a similar sound. “Lee-lee…”

She holds his biceps for support, feeling her fingernails dig into the muscle. “Yeah, baby?” she murmurs back, her teeth grazing lightly over his nipple.

“I…” Jungkook seems incapable of answering, but his hands slide up her thighs and to her arse, the tips of his fingers slipping under the hem of her underwear. His hands feel like he’s just about controlling himself, though, his palms touching her skin but resisting the urge to use the strength he normally does. Resisting… or waiting.

Running her tongue over his nipple again and noting how he shudders slightly, Lia reaches for his other nipple and twists it without warning. 

“Fuck!” 

As anticipated, he grabs her arse instantly, inadvertently rolling her hips into his, making her grind against him. “Fuck, Kook,” she whispers, but she’s sure he hasn’t even heard her. She licks his skin again, tasting the remnants of the honey before sucking softly at his nipple, moaning softly at the feel of his large cock against her clothed clit as he continues pulling her against him.

Jungkook groans again, and Lia feels herself getting wetter with every sound he makes, loving how good she’s making him feel. She presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against his skin, moving lower down his chest and to his sternum, all the way down his beautiful torso. It arouses her to no end the kind of pride he takes in his body, in toning it and growing it. Even his intense dieting seems to have reduced from what it used to be, according to his friends at least, and Lia can’t help but worship every inch of his gorgeous body when she gets the chance.

She can still taste the slight, sticky sweetness on his torso from the honey she’d poured on it earlier. Sliding down his lap, she continues down his abdomen until she reaches his happy trail, feeling his cock brush her breasts over her tank top. Lia wraps her hand gently around his clothed erection, her heart flipping at his sharp intake of breath. 

"Do you want me to suck you?" she breathes, touching the tip and feeling the wet spot from the pre cum that's surely leaked out. In all the time that she's known him, he's never declined such an offer. This time is no different. His fingers tighten in her hair and he moans a soft yes. 

Biting her lip and trying not to move too fast out of excitement, she pulls the elastic of his underwear, tugging it down his hips when he raises them off the bed. His erection springs free and Jungkook lets out a throaty sigh. Determined to tease him through everything tonight, Lia grasps him at the base, softly stroking him with her thumb. With her other hand, she gently cups his balls, anticipating his groan this time.

Jungkook’s hand appears from the side, almost as though he’s unaware of it, and covers her fingers around his cock. “Please…” is all he can say apparently before his hand falls back onto the bed. Swallowing, Lia silently acquiesces and moves her hand up his shaft, bringing her lips to it and pressing a soft kiss to the underside.

His hips buckle automatically but he tightens his fingers in her hair again. “No,” he mutters tightly.

Lia halts immediately before backing away. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“No,” he repeats, shaking his head. When she raises her head slightly to meet his gaze, he swallows. “Can you…?”

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip when he nods, his cock hard as rock in her hand. “Okay.” Letting go of him, she reaches for the jar of honey again, a bit more nervous this time. “It’s still hot, Kook,” she warns him softly, squeezing his thigh. “It could hurt.”

Jungkook meets her eyes again and he half-chuckles. “That’s kind of the point.” It’s clear that even he isn’t fully sure what to expect, but the sight of his erection, the tip wet and the girth solid, convinces her somewhat. Hesitating momentarily, Lia reaches up and kisses his cheek. 

“Okay, then,” she whispers against his skin, pressing a lighter kiss to his jaw before pulling away. Sitting back on her heels, she spoons out a dollop of golden honey and, taking care to avoid the angry pink tip, she slowly lets the honey drip down his cock, swirling it a bit. 

“Oh, fuck!” Jungkook whimpers loudly, making her jump, and he clutches at the sheets with his free hand. His face has that same expression again, the one that she can’t help but stop and stare at every time he’s close to finishing, with the sexy frown and his pink lips open. 

Lia moves forward silently, just in time to catch a golden drop on her tongue before it drips onto her white sheets. She sucks on the sweetness, working her way up his balls, cupping them with her other hand as she cleans up every last bit of honey on him.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whines as his hips buckle again. One of his hands finds its way into her hair again, his fingers tangling in her dark locks. She runs her tongue up his cock, continuing to palm his balls gently, feeling her stomach flip every time he lets out a throaty grunt. She laps up every bit of honey until she reaches his tip and finally takes him in her mouth, the saltiness mixing with the sweetness on her tongue. 

“Yes… fuck, yes.” Jungkook’s breath comes out in ragged bursts now, and only intensifies as Lia sucks him off, taking him in as far into her mouth as she can, vaguely tasting the last remnants of the honey on him. His fingers clutch at her hair, voice increasing in pitch, and she lets him go with a soft pop, immediately replacing her mouth with her hand, stroking him rapidly.

She wants to watch him. Jungkook is beyond handsome, enough that she catches herself staring at him doing the most mundane things far too often, but watching him come undone, especially when she’s the one doing it to him, is a sight she feels privileged to behold. His hand slides down from her hair down all the way to her hips, and she straddles his thighs to give both of them a better angle.

His torso glistens, partly due to the lighting and partly due to a light layer of sweat. She doesn’t know if she’s imagining the golden sheen because of the honey on her mind. Gazing at him, she increases the speed at which she’s stroking him, watching him with both fascination and arousal as she pushes him further and further.

She realises a moment too late what the expressions on his face mean, though. Without warning, she feels his hips buck under her again, coupled with a long and guttural groan, and suddenly feels something warm on her hand.

“Shit.” Jungkook sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m so -”

“For what?” Lia asks gently, leaning over him for the tissue box on the bedside table. She pulls out a couple for herself and hands him one as well.

“I - I should’ve warned you,” he mutters, shaking his head as he cleans himself up and chucks the tissue in the corner of the room. “I wanted to cum in -” He breaks off, his ears turning red even as he pants in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She bites her lip, trying not to smile. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, throwing her soiled tissue to the side like him and straddling him fully. His hands come up to grasp her hips and he sighs when she trails her kisses down his jaw. “I loved doing that to you,” she murmurs.

“It was amazing,” he admits, running his hands up her waist and closing his eyes as her lips against his skin, her long hair brushing his chest. His voice is still slightly shaky and she feels his heart beat rapidly under her palms. “I want to make you feel good, too,” he adds softly after a moment.

Lia freezes, her lips on his sternum. Jungkook evidently feels it, for he squeezes her hips and, against all odds, his cock twitches against her arse. Down below, her clit throbs as though it’s just remembered what was happening a minute ago. Looking up at him, she bites her lip.

“You don’t have to,” she says after a moment. “If you’re feeling guilty or something.”

“I’m not.” He looks down, meeting her gaze. “I really, really want to… make you feel good,” he finishes. He’s still catching his breath from his own orgasm, his eyes dark and glassy. 

She swallows, her heart beating faster in anticipation. “How are you planning on doing that?” she asks, crawling up his chest and straightening up slightly. As she slips off her tank top, she hears his sharp intake of breath. Just as she’s been unable to reconcile herself to how stunning he looks on a day to day basis, often stopping mid-task just to watch him, it’s evident that he’s been just as unsuccessful every time she takes off her clothes, especially a top.

“Shit, come here,” he mutters, tugging at her hips. Pulling her close, they kiss for the first time since they started, all the pent up energy exploding the moment their mouths meet. 

Lia moans into his mouth, his hands burning into her skin and his chest feeling hard and steady against hers. She rolls her hips into his, the friction feeling delicious against her soaking core. He moves his hands to grab her arse, his fingers sliding the elastic down to feel her skin, firm and round in his grasp. She can’t help but moan again, when Jungkook suddenly flips them over.

Hovering over her, his wavy hair in his face and his lips twisted into a playful smirk, Lia’s heart has no chance. It’s the hardest thing in the world to try and stop kissing him, and when he begins making his way down her torso, burying his face in her cleavage, she thinks she might just be falling in love with him.

“Take this off,” he mutters, wrapping an arm around her and lifting her off the bed by a couple of inches so she can reach behind her and unhook her bra. He groans the moment her breasts are freed, immediately reaching up for them and kneading them. His eyes flutter shut, almost as though he’s moving simply through his sense of touch, lightly nipping the flesh until his lips reach her nipples.

“Oh, that feels good,” she sighs, her back arching slightly when he licks her right nipple, his other hand twisting her left one between two fingers. She runs her fingers through his hair, feeling it damp as he begins sucking on her nipple, almost hypnotised. She moves her hips upwards against pelvis, trying to get more friction and whining in impatience when he shifts. “Kook…”

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to part from her breasts, pressing kisses to the underside and down to her ribs until he travels all the way to the bottom of her torso. “You’re so sexy,” he murmurs, sucking softly at the flesh just above the hem of her underwear. With his mouth so close to her clit, she can feel herself soaking further through her underwear, barely able to hold on anymore. 

“God, Kook, put your tongue in me,” she whispers, gently yanking at his hair. He gasps, immediately moving lower and pulling her underwear down. His breathless chuckle tells her he can see just how wet she is.

“You really thought I didn’t have to take care of you?” he asks, gently pushing her legs up so her knees bend. Even through the haze of arousal, she can hear how earnest he sounds. “Even when you’re like this?”

“I…” She looks down and meets his lustful gaze, her heart flipping when she notices how his tongue is poking into his cheek. “I want you now. I really… really want you to take care of me right now.” She drops her head back down onto the pillow and the next second, she feels his mouth press a kiss right next to her lips. “Oh, God…”

Thankfully, he doesn’t tease her anymore, simply moving to kiss her outer lips before his tongue finds her clit, swollen and ready for him. He presses his tongue against the nub, his strong hands holding her thighs up as he laps up her juices, his lips soft yet firm against her cunt. 

“Yes, Jungkook…” Lia clutches at his hair, her core burning in a way that tells her she’s close, so close. “Suck on it… fuck, Kook, I want -” Her words are cut off when she whimpers, feeling him suck on her clit, first gently, then harder. His tongue moves in long, steady strokes, pulling her thighs to his face. “Yes, oh, god, yes…” 

She moves a hand up to her chest, pinching her nipple while her other hand stays in his hair and she spreads her legs as much as she can. She can feel him groaning into her, and the sound is just about pushing her over the edge. “God, Kook, don’t stop, don’t -” She twists her nipple harder, her back arching even more. She can feel a clamminess on her neck but she doesn’t bother for she’s so close…

“Fuck, Jungkook!” 

Her orgasm crashes over her, all the way from her cunt to her chest, and all the way down to her extremities. She sees nothing but spots for a moment, only vaguely feeling him crawl up her body. He kisses the top of her rib cage, the tops of her breasts, lip ghosting over her neck, her jaw, her earlobe. 

“You are so fucking hot, Lee-lee,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek before capturing her lips in his. She wraps her arms around his neck, wanting to feel nothing but him against her for the rest of the night, possibly the rest of her life. There’s only one thing that gets her eyes to snap open; she frowns in confusion as he sucks softly at her collarbone.

“Are you still hard, baby?”

Jungkook pauses, and she knows she’s right. Stiff and poking into her pelvis, Jungkook’s cock twitches tellingly the moment she utters the words.

“Yes,” he whines hoarsely into her neck, burying his nose further into the crevice as he tightens his arms around her. “But you’re sore and I -”

“Says who?” Lia waits as he falls silent, and she can practically hear his brain working out a response. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes in what she can only describe as endeared exasperation, she presses a kiss to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat off his skin. Truth be told, she doesn’t know if she’s sore yet. Her clit will surely be sensitive, but the thought of him hard and aroused is something she can’t bring herself to ignore.

Jungkook straightens up slightly so he can look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, eyes wide. Against her hip, she can feel him twitch again. “Because I can -”

She kisses him, sighing into his mouth when he kisses her back, lips firm and passionate against hers. “I would really like for you to fuck me, Jungkook,” she murmurs against his lips, running a hand through his hair again. Pressing her chest up to his, she nips at his lower lip. “I want you to get me wet -” she moves her lips to his jaw “- and enter me -” she kisses the spot under his ear “- and stretch me out -” she bites softly at his earlobe as he hisses “- and since it’s a weekend, I want you try and make sure I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Jungkook pulls away slowly, biting his lip, and before she can gaze at his handsome face again, he straightens up and flips her over onto her stomach. The movement makes her swollen clit brush against the sheets and she lets out an involuntary moan.

“You’re really sure, baby?” he asks, his fingers already brushing between her thighs. When she nods, not trusting herself to speak, she feels his fingers travel up her arse and to the small of her back, running over where she knows is her stupid tramp stamp, the worst drunk decision she’s ever made, and what Jungkook insists is his favourite tattoo of hers ever since she told him she hated it.

“Can I try something?” 

Lia frowns, expecting to feel his fingers inside of her by now. She props herself up on her elbows to look back at him, her messy hair partially obscuring her view. “What?” When she sees his eyes dart to the jar of honey on the bedside table, she bites her lip. “Are you serious?”

“I mean, only - only if you’re okay with it,” he adds quickly, moving his hand up to stroke her back. “I just - I wanted to try.” His cheeks start reddening and he looks away, his doubtful expression extremely incongruous to his large and muscular body, tall and naked like a Greek statue.

After considering it for a moment, she shrugs. “Okay. Just… make sure it doesn’t get on the sheets.”

His eyes widen. “Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised, even as his cock pulses against her hip. He swallows when she nods, his free hand absently finding her arse cheek and squeezing it. He leans over to retrive the jar as she turns back around, sweeping her long hair off her back. “It’s not even that hot anymore,” he promises, adjusting himself between her spread legs. “Ready?”

Lia nods into the pillow, tensing only slightly. “Yeah.” A moment later, she gasps softly when she feels a hot liquid on the middle of her back, trickling thick and warm down her spine.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook’s voice is tentative, but there’s a hint of longing there and it only makes her wish she could see the look on his face.

“Yeah.” She nods again, for after a few seconds, the initial shock of the heat wears off. The closest comparison she has to it is wax, except it isn’t as scalding - and is far less punishing, especially when the strip is replaced with Jungkook’s mouth, wet and slow, slowly making its way up her back. She sighs into the pillow, feeling his strong frame cover her completely as he presses open-mouthed kisses all the way up to her neck.

“Was it okay?” he murmurs, kissing the spot on her shoulder where another tattoo lies - this one actually her favourite. She answers in a soft, content moan, feeling his erect cock settle in between her arse cheeks while his torso presses comfortably against her back. “Are you okay with more?”

“Just a bit,” she answers, not wholly comfortable with the stickiness she’s sure will remain. Jungkook acquiesces, dribbling a smaller amount, this time straight on her lower back where the sting of the heat feels slightly sharper. His mouth is on her skin instantly, his hands kneading at her arse before one brushes in between her legs and lightly feels for her cunt.

“Step one, done,” he confirms against her skin, and she can hear the smirk in his voice as he feels her wetness returning. Clearly aware of how sensitive she might be already, he continues with soft, gentle strokes against her clit.

Lia moans louder this time, clutching at her pillow as she savours the feel of his fingers, long and firm against her. His thumb ghosts over her pussy, but he doesn’t put his finger in and she’s grateful for the short respite, especially if he’s intending on following through with her requests.

“Kook,” she gasps after a minute, feeling the familiar heat in her abdomen once again. Behind her, Jungkook pauses where his mouth is on her shoulder blade and two of his fingers are inside her slit, rubbing her nub deliciously. “Kook, I’m gonna cum if you keep going, baby,” she admits, fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together.

He brushes her hair off her shoulder and kisses her neck. “I can move on to step two?”

“God, yes…” She squeezes her eyes shut when his fingers disappear, unable to keep from groaning in their absence. Her heart begins thudding, though, when he straightens up behind her and holds her hips, lifting them up slightly before entering her. “Fuck, Kook…”

Behind her, Jungkook groans in pleasure as he stretches her out, giving her everything she’d asked for. He pulls out halfway again before bottoming out, her wet cunt making the movement smooth yet tight. Lia muffles her moans into the pillow as he establishes a rhythm, feeling his balls brush againsther clit with every thrust. 

“God, Kook…” She swallows, trying to find her voice. “Are you sure you can give me enough of a reason not to walk tomorrow?”

Jungkook responds with a grunt, thrusting hard into her. “I know I can,” he mutters, and, just as she’d hoped, he slams into her with renewed force, increasing his speed. Her whimpers grow louder and his groans increase in pitch as well. “Fuck, your cunt is so perfect, Lee-lee…”

His words send a wave of pleasure through her and she pushes her hips towards him, willing him to fuck her harder. “Yes - god, yes, Jungkook… fuck, just like that -”

Just as she says it, he pulls out and flips her over. The sight of him once again makes her heart race and she pulls him to her, kissing him frantically. Pulling away with a wondrous chuckle, Jungkook brushes a damp strand of hair off her neck. “You really think I can’t fuck you that hard?” he asks, his tone playful and sexy all at once, as though she’s challenged him at FIFA.

Despite how breathless she is and how much her cunt is aching for him, she scoffs. “Prove it, Jeon,” she says, panting slightly.

He bites his lip and grins, sweaty hair falling into his eyes, and holds her gaze as he enters her this time. It doesn’t last long, for he lowers his head to kiss her neck and her eyes flutter shut as she takes him in, feeling so full and so connected to him that she whimpers his name.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, pushing into her and resuming his pace. Lia wraps her legs around his waist, feeling his sweaty body against hers as he thrusts into her with all the strength his body looks like it would have. 

“Harder, Jungkook…”

He obliges, his hips snapping against hers, the sound echoing against the walls of her room. She's vaguely glad that Dal isn't in the house; the sound of him slamming into her, coupled with their moans and whimpers and grunts could wake residents more than one floor up.

"Lia, I'm close…" Jungkook gasps, his torso shining above her as he picks up his pace. She nods, biting down on her lip hard, chasing the orgasm she knows is building, about to overwhelm her at any point.

The last few punishing thrusts send her over the edge and her vision swims as she comes undone, somehow making out Jungkook's throaty groan as well as he finishes inside her. She can feel his warmth coat her walls vaguely as she clenches weakly around him, wanting him to stay there forever. He lowers his head to kiss her, seeming just as dazed as she feels. 

“Fuck, that was incredible,” she whispers, left with no energy for more. Jungkook nods and kisses her again, his mouth curving into a gorgeous, tired smile. Groaning softly, he pulls away and reaches for the tissue box. He pulls out of her slowly, and Lia doesn’t even care that she audibly whines as he does, suddenly feeling cool and empty. He cleans himself up and wipes the insides of her thighs in a few quick strokes before sinking onto the bed beside her.

Automatically curling into his chest the same moment he holds out his arm, both of them catch their breath in relative silence.

“So?” Jungkook asks after about a minute, and she looks up to see him running a hand through his damp, wavy strands. “Did I do it?”

It takes Lia a moment to understand what he’s referring to. Cuddling further into him, she shrugs. “We’ll find out tomorrow.”

He chuckles but doesn’t say anything, simply tightening his arm around her. “By the way,” he says after a few seconds, “how was the… I mean, were you okay with…” He raises his eyebrows and motions with the other hand, as though holding a spoon.

“Oh.” Lia considers this. “It was sweet,” she decides, smiling when Jungkook grins and turns towards her to kiss her. His lips are so soft and comforting, and he pulls her close with both arms, enveloping her. “But I don’t think it’s really my thing,” she adds when they pull apart. 

He nods. “That’s fair. Maybe you can stay the chef and I’ll be your snack,” he suggests.

She laughs. “That’ll be one hell of a snack, Jeon.” When Jungkook simply shrugs and winks at her, she feels the same fluttering in her chest as she did before, the one where she’s sure her heart won’t stand a chance when it comes to him. It’s a big deal, a big step to confess what she thinks she’s feeling and the last thing she wants to do is push this relationship into anything before they’re ready.

Still, when he presses his lips to her forehead and hugs her closer, she rests her cheek against his chest and wonders if it might just be the right time, or if he feels the same at all. He seems to adore her; he’s young and ambitious, but the look on his face every time he looks at her is the main reason she's been excited to wake up every morning the last three months.

Her heart starts racing again, this time in anticipation. “Kook,” she says softly, feeling him turn his head to look at her. She doesn’t return his gaze, however, suddenly too self-conscious. “I, um…” She clears her throat. “I want to…” Shit. 

“Yeah?” he prompts when she doesn’t speak for another few seconds. 

Lia sighs. “I need to take a shower.”

Maybe now really isn’t the right time.

“Oh.” Jungkook pauses. “Okay. Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah, alright.” Despite the failed confession, she finds her stomach flip pleasantly at the thought. “But I have to warn you,” she says, sitting up with a wince, “I don’t think I have round three in me.”

—

[ start ]

You had awoken from your slumber and turned over in bed, groaning when you felt the cold mattress beside you. Hongjoong still hadn’t come to bed yet and it was – you lift your head to check the time – 2:45 am. You sigh deeply as you throw the comforter back and swing your legs over the mattress to step onto the cold floor.

You can see the blue light from his computer shining under the door, further confirming your thoughts that your boyfriend was still working in his studio. You opened the door and watched with a pout as Hongjoong bobbed his head a bit to the beat he had been working on since earlier that day. 

You’re still groggy with sleep when you make your way towards him and wrap your arms around his chest from behind. Your presence causes him to move his headphones off his head and look up at you with soft eyes. “Hi baby. What are you doing up?” You can’t help the pout that falls on your lips as you look down at him. “It’s late, you should come to bed.” Hongjoong nods as his fingers go back to moving things around on the track. “I’ll be there in a minute. I need to finish this before I forget what I wanted to do.” You sigh as you hear your boyfriend’s words. That had meant he actually wasn’t going to bed any time soon and he’d only crawl into bed when the sun was finally coming up and it was time for you to get up. 

Getting more and more sleepy by the minute but not wanting to leave, you decide to just crawl into Hongjoong’s lap and make yourself comfortable there. As you climb onto his lap you feel Hongjoong wrap a protective arm around your waist to make sure you don’t fall. After finally settling down with your head on his shoulder, Hongjoong gets back to work, listening to the demo before going back and changing things. He did this over and over again and it was starting to get on your nerves causing you to shift a bit in his lap.

You felt Hongjoong’s arm tighten around your waist. “Don’t do that.” You only huff, not even fully awake at this point, and nuzzle your face further into his neck. A couple minutes later you’re adjusting yourself again, and this time you’re very aware of the thick print of his half hard dick rubbing against your clothed core. “Baby, I said stop.” But he does nothing more to really stop you as you begin leaving little kisses on his neck as you trail your hands down his chest and stick them under the band of his sweatpants. “Baby, what did I just say?” 

You could only let out whines. “Mm, it’ll be fast Joongie.” But Hongjoong doesn’t like quick sex. He loves to take his time and enjoy every moment with you. So he took off his headphones and sat back to let you pull his sweats down. Your pulse quickens at the sight and at the thought that he wasn’t wearing underwear, almost like he was waiting for you to some and stick your hands in his pants.

“Joongie.” You let out the prettiest whine as Hongjoong grabs your hips and guides your clothed core back and forth over his dick. You could feel the wetness growing and soaking through the panties you were wearing as Hongjoong grinds your hips down onto his own. Hongjoong was kissing down your neck and breathing in your scent, peach from your shampoo mixed with a little bit of sweat, admiring how you felt on top of him with only his shirt and a pair of panties on.

“So pretty baby.” He couldn't help but murmur the praise in your ear, voice gravelly with lust as he moved his hips a bit to rub against you more. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him now. So you reached down to hold Hongjoong’s cock and guide it towards the soaked patch of your panties. He groaned in your ear at the feeling of both your hand around his length and the arousal seeping through your panties. “And so needy. What’s got my baby so needy tonight?”

You’re not in control of your actions or what you say anymore. You’re really too far gone, dazed from just waking up and the way he’s making you feel. “Just miss you.” You pout a little more before leaning your forehead forward to meet Hongjoong’s. But Hongjoong loves the way you’re whining for him and how you look, so dazed and fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you. So he reached down and pulled your panties aside, far too lazy and way too impatient to actually remove them, and ran a light finger up your slit, feeling how wet you were just from grinding on him. You hummed at the feeling, pushing down to try to get more from him, but to no avail.

But you’re more than pleasantly surprised when Hongjoong lifts your hips and rubs his dick against you to slick himself up a bit. “I can tell.” His voice is almost teasing as he slips his tip in, holding your hips so you can’t completely sink down onto him. You whine and nudge his nose with yours. The feeling of him being in you but not completely was frustrating, leaving more to be desired. Especially since you knew just how well he filled you up. “Please Joongie. Need you.” 

He reached up to peck your nose so softly. “Since you asked so nicely.” And he slowly pulls your hips down. He feels so nice and big stretching your warm walls. The pace is achingly slow as he controls your hips. A sigh leaves your lips as you take the last of him in. Hongjoong is still holding your hips down, teasingly rolling you against him. He can’t help it. Not when you look so pretty sitting on him, breaths shaky and eyes clenched close with the desire to bounce on him.

You lean forward to catch Hongjoong’s lips in a desperate kiss, whines vibrating in your throat as you went to lift your hips from his own. Much to your satisfaction, he guided your hips to bounce on his length. “Mm, Joong.” You let soft moans out at the feeling of Hongjoong reaching so deep and hitting you perfectly in your spot every time. 

The feeling of Hongjoong’s hands moving up your waist and moving to trace up your spine left goosebumps all over your body, sensation growing with the feeling of his cool breath hitting your neck as he thrusted up into you every time he brought you back down onto him. Hongjoong groaned low into your neck as you clenched around him. He could feel that you were getting close to your high at the feeling of your thighs quivering and the way you leaned forward into him to dig your face into his shoulder.

“Joongie, s-so close.” He moved his head to suck pretty little bruises on your jaw and under your ear as he coaxed you into your orgasm. “Wait for me, pretty. I’m close too.” Hongjoong grunted as he pulled you down into his thrusts, sloppy the closer both of you got to finishing. You whined out as Hongjoong repeatedly hit your sensitive spot. “It’s okay baby. You can cum now.” As he pulled your hips down onto his one last time, you both finish. Hongjoong tightened his arms around your waist as he felt your hole clenching around him, forehead resting on your chest where he could hear your heart beating. 

All that could be heard were both of your pants, breaths heavy from the orgasm you shared. You were both calming your breaths, feeling each other's heartbeats as sweat glistened on your bodies underneath the soft lights that glowed behind the monitors. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” Hongjoong’s soft breaths tickled your neck as he spoke. You hummed in response as you tightened your arms around his neck. “Please, I’m sleepy.” Hongjoong could only chuckle lovingly at the tone of your voice, already knowing you had the cutest pout on your lips.

[ end ]

Your little acquaintance with Jungkook began some time ago. But there had been no friendly introductions; you had had a knife to the throat of one of his members and the next thing you knew, you were being pressed against the ground with Jungkook at your back.

Over time, you had proved to be quite a match for each other. Just as your gangs skirted around each other, testing boundaries, winning and losing skirmishes for territory, the two of you were seemingly in orbit of the other. One way or another, you would always end up toe to toe, a constant challenge – or, perhaps, annoyance – to the other.

Tonight may be no different. Your eyes locked as you passed his table. Always close enough to touch, but too wise to move until the time was right.

In your line of work, you had to settle for a cool distance with the enemy. After all, you knew that while you were capable of taking him down, the opposite was also true. And either action would invite more conflict that your gangs’ tentative hostility could bear.

You approached and Jungkook sat back, anticipating your arrival. Neither of you would dare make a move in here, you knew that. But it was always fun to flirt with danger.

His smirk grew, a brow cocked as he waited for you to bite first. A simple ‘what are you looking at, Jeon?’ was enough for a spark.

Instead, your expression darkened.

“Not tonight, Jeon.”

Without even staying to hear a response, you kept your head down and moved past.

Jungkook frowned, leaning forwards to catch a glimpse of you, melting into the hubbub of this bar. Something was off.

For the brief moment he could, he scanned your form. He could be imagining it, but were you limping? If you were, you hid it well. In any case, you were gone too soon for him to be sure.

Still, his eyes lingered. He swallowed down a growing unease. This wasn’t like you – but then, why should that mean anything to him? Better still, he should revel in this. To have you in such a sour mood, something must have happened in favour of his gang. And at the expense of you.

He pretended that made him feel better.

But Jungkook had no time to spare thinking of you. Why he would ever want to was a concern in itself.

He was here for a reason. And that reason was crossing to the bar right now.

The man was alone, but Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough to rule out the possibility of anyone keeping an eye from the crowd. This was a new player in town, Ilwoon, but wasn’t someone Namjoon was keen to put in the ground straight away. He was clearly smart, having gained connections before trying to emerge as a powerful figure.

Jungkook had been given instructions for a hassle-free discussion and deal, but he took that with a pinch of salt. They didn’t know much about this guy, and it was Jungkook’s job to show him they weren’t going to be pushed around easily.

Still, he approached with a decidedly cool exterior, letting nothing slip in his expression.

“Two Manhattans.” The order confirmed to Jungkook that this was in fact the right man. His voice was rough, a contrast to the fine trimmed haircut he sported.

Allowing a cordial smile onto his face, Jungkook seated himself beside the newcomer while the bartender busied herself.

“Nice evening,” Jungkook muttered off-hand, “busy.”

Ilwoon bristled, clearly not sure what to make of the smalltalk. But a moment later, a smile bloomed on his face. Jungkook didn’t like it at all, but made sure not to flinch.

“Good place to end a long day,” the man said.

Their drinks slid across the counter, Jungkook watching the other take a sip first, taking note of the way his dark eyes crawled over the occupants of the bar. Like he owned the lot.

Taking a sip too, Jungkook could pass the disgusted curl of his lips off as a response to the burn of alcohol. About to resign himself to a tense but necessary conversation, he turned his eyes back to his drinking partner.

Jungkook’s hand tightened around his glass, not lowering it to the tabletop. Frozen, he stared.

Ilwoon lowered his arm, revealing a charming red pendant which was just visible around his shirt buttons. Finishing his own drink, the man noticed Jungkook’s staring and frowned, shifting in his seat. A small flash of red bounced from the jewel at the movement.

It was beautiful. Jungkook had always thought so. But that was just the problem.

“That isn’t yours.”

Raising his eyes fractionally, Jungkook finally met the man’s gaze with steel in his own.

Quirking a brow, that same repulsive smile flitted onto Ilwoon’s face.

“Told you I’d been having fun in this town,” the man shrugged, “now, shall we talk?”

Fast as a whip, Jungkook had sent his chair clattering to the floor as he sprung at the man, grabbing him roughly by his collar and sending him colliding with the bar.

Any previous noise dissipated, silence shooting through crowd place like a wave.

Jungkook didn’t even break the man’s gaze. One of the glasses slowly rolled off the table, smashed loudly on the floor.

No one moved.

Holding his stance, Jungkook’s only move was to tighten his grip, drawing closer to the man.

“For someone in your position, I would think you’d want to play nice,” he hissed.

Despite the way his feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor and his breath grew shallower, the other man narrowed his eyes, spitting back with vitriol.

“No honour among thieves, I thought. This shouldn’t be your concern.”

“You’re going to tell me who is and isn’t my concern?” Jungkook all but yelled, shaking him.

“I never touched one of yours!”

“They don’t belong to you either,” Jungkook growled. His spare hand reached up, just below the one holding his foe, to grab the locket.

It was true that it was nothing to do with bangtan. That his actions now would spark rumours of some weakness, some compromise. That he need not be interested in the fate of anyone other than the boys he called family.

But Jungkook didn’t recall seeing this around your neck earlier.

He tore it off. Releasing the man and leaving him panting, leaning against the counter, he stalked away without looking back.

The thin metal chain felt heavy in Jungkook’s fist.

Falling fast and heavy, his shoes clattered up the stairs. If Ilwoon had any sense, he would be long gone already, but he was a long way down Jungkook’s list right now.

The bouncer nodded him through instantly, Jungkook not even sparing time to look at her.

While this bar was supposed to be a neutral place for gangs (something he would certainly have to explain if the owner got wind of his little stunt downstairs), many of them frequented the place. With the absence of violence came somewhere for meetings, perhaps the only spot this side of bangtan’s territory where Jungkook could brush shoulders with enemies without trading blows.

At the moment, he was rather closer to shoving them as he carved a path through the crowd. The top floor was solely for those in his… profession. He had no doubt you had been heading here when he saw you earlier.

Emerging from the dense group by the bar, he quickly scanned the tables, ruling each one out.

Chewing his cheek, he exhaled harshly through his nose, turning his head erratically. You were nowhere in sight.

There was only one place left.

Walking purposefully past the tables, he pushed through another door. The bathrooms were here, four gender neutral ones lining the corridor.

Toeing open the nearest, he peered inside. It was empty, as was the lockable cubicle inside. Crossing the hall in one stride, he tried the next with the same results. The third, however-

You eyes snapped up, meeting his in the mirror just before you whirled around with a gasp, straightening your top.

Jungkook’s brow creased, gaze lingering even though you were now totally covered by your turtleneck. Once again, it had been too quick to be sure, but-

“What happened to you?”

Jungkook’s intense gaze met yours as he stepped inside, the door falling closed behind him. He didn’t miss your guarded stance, the way your eyes flickered to the exit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeon,” you replied tersely.

Turning back to the mirror, you leaned over the sink to make a show of inspecting your hair. As if you couldn’t care less about his invasion.

But much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook may know you more than most people. Despite your… situation, it was hard to keep secrets and emotions at bay when your lives revolved around pushing the other, whether it be in a physical fight or in tactical play. Even those in your own circle were kept at a further distance. Trust wasn’t exactly an abundant resource in your world.

You just hoped the amount of times Jungkook had seen you hurt, sometimes from his own doing, wouldn’t pay off now. You knew he was still watching you.

He ground his teeth, then looked down at something.

“What’s this then?”

Turning back to him in irritation, you opened your mouth, only to freeze like that when you saw the pendant dangling from his fingers. Your father had given you that, a symbol of your belonging to his empire just before he died. While many of his members believed you weren’t fit to be with them, it reminded you they wrong.

You always wore it.

Until…

“Where did you get that?”

“What happened to you?”

Jungkook repeated his question rapidly in response to your own. All it prompted was more silence. But he had watched your unbothered air crack in front of him the moment he showed you the locket – something was wrong.

“Listen, Jungkook,” you spoke low, trying not to betray your shaking voice, “I’ve had quite enough for today. If you want to add to that, go ahead. Just tell the cleaners on your way out.”

Your words jarred Jungkook. Reminded him of all the reasons you would expect him to be here, and with good reason. A startling realisation of how far his feelings seemed to have strayed from the familiarity of your rivalry.

He took a breath, horrified. Expecting you to laugh any second, or even kick him in the face.

But you just waited.

“What did he do to you?” he pressed, taking a step.

He jolted to a stop the next second when you actually stepped away from him, backing against the sink.

“You know Ilwoon?”

“I hate the bastard, but yes,” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth, “care to tell me why he had this?”

You rolled your eyes.

“What do you think?”

“Is it the reason there’s blood in the sink?”

“Well done, Sherlock,” you bit, “don’t you think you could save your gloating for later?”

“He hurt you.”

You smirked drily.

“Are you just bitter because you never managed?”

He stared in disbelief. How were joking about this?

You still stared defiantly up at him, arms folded over your chest.

His next words came as little more than a breath.

“Let me see.”

You didn’t move.

“I’m sorry?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly hesitant to meet your eyes.

“Let- let me see. I can help.”

You were silent for so long that Jungkook looked back up at you, finding you still staring at him like he was crazy.

Perhaps he was.

But eventually, you dropped your arms and stepped to one side with a soft huff.

Stepping forward, Jungkook laid the necklace quietly on the counter before reaching out. Just before his fingers touched the hem of the fabric, he looked back up for confirmation.

You took a breath. Somehow, this didn’t feel as strange as it should.

A small nod from you, and he gently lifted the material, a crease emerging between his brows.

Chewing your lip, you looked away. Still, you couldn’t help eyeing the damage in the mirror beside you. The wound wasn’t of too much concern, but the blood was certainly a sight to behold. Your cleaning had done nothing to improve it.

A slash ran across your side. He had poor aim, the knife striking your ribs which had deflected it, extending the cut around your side where it was hard for you to reach without having to contort and receive a warning blast of pain from the injured spot.

You couldn’t help the hiss that left you when Jungkook’s fingers brushed against it. Withdrawing instantly, he looked back to you.

“Sorry, go ahead,” you muttered, averting your eyes again.

Still, when he turned on the tap to wet his hand, it returned cautiously, barely touching if he could help it. For the odd time he aggravated the wound, you simply bit your tongue.

Turning your eyes towards yourself in the mirror, you watched blankly. What should have been the most bizarre scene felt all too easy. Jungkook’s gaze remained focussed, fixed on his hands as they were painted red with your blood before it swirled away down the drain.

His hands left you then, prompting you to whip around in panic. Where was he going?

All you were met with was a low chuckle, a lopsided smile falling onto Jungkook’s lips. He stayed where he was, shrugging off his jacket.

“What are you-?”

Your question died on your lips as he bunched it up, bending slightly to tend to your wound again. Lost for words, you simply raised your arm slightly to give him better access as he pressed the fabric against your side.

Part of you felt bad for what was clearly an expensive jacket – the material wasn’t scratchy at all, barely irritating your injury.

“It should be treated properly,” he said.

“I’ll live.”

“I don’t doubt it. But… you’ll have someone look at it, right?”

You quirked a brow at him.

“So you can give me another one next week?”

“Of course not!”

His exclamation took you by surprise. Apparently, it did the same to him, both of you blinking at each other in the following quiet.

He sighed roughly, looking down to his shifting feet for a moment.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Why would I do that?”

Your protest was weak and you knew it. Your voice came out tired. The care Jungkook had just showed you left you caving to the very thing you had always tried to resist. But after today’s events, you just wanted to let your guard down and tell someone.

He didn’t even have to say anything else. You sighed, leaned back against the counter.

“The new guy wanted to meet up, talk business with our gang. I didn’t turn up expecting anything, but the moment he saw they sent me, he seemed to take that as a sign of weakness. Not a word of business, just him being a creep until he attacked me when I wasn’t having it.”

Kicking the tiled floor as you spoke, a bitter scowl took over your face. You were more than capable of taking on/quick enough to take on this stupid newbie, but the knife had really taken you by surprise.

“I shouldn’t have even given him the chance,” you cursed, “but when this happened, it threw me enough for him to grab me. He seemed to enjoy it. Like that necklace was a bleeding trophy.”

Jungkook’s expression of hatred mirrored your own.

When your eyes fell on the jewellery sitting on the side, his followed. Saying nothing, he reached for it, stepped behind you.

Instinctively, you turned, meeting his eyes as he came behind you in the mirror. The necklace glinted innocently in the light as he raised it above your head, fastening it out of sight at the nape of your neck.

His fingers only grazed your skin as he pulled away. And if he saw the bruises on your neck, he said nothing about them. He knew all too well how humiliating it could be to come out this side of what should have been an easy fight.

“He wanted discussions with bangtan as well,” Jungkook said, as if it was the most innocent thing in the world.

But his smirk in the mirror ignited hope in you again.

Spinning around to face him, you pretended not to notice just how close this brought you to Jungkook. You were no stranger to being a breath away from him, but it was a different experience now you weren’t trying to attack each other.

“You mean he’s been in contact with both of us?”

“Would have thought he’d be smart enough to know not to get between enemies. When our bosses find out he wants to play us like this I don’t think they’ll be too happy, do you?”

Like falling into your magnetic pull, Jungkook shifted closer still. A smirk was growing over your features, eyes glinting in the light.

Your gaze dropped slightly, a finger coming to rest on his chest. Looking up at him, you tilted your head playfully. This confidence fit you much better, more familiar than the weakness Ilwoon had inflicted on you.

“And what about how we found out?”

“I don’t think that should be of concern when he’s running for his life.”

And you fell together at last, all that time you had spent fighting fading in the work of an instant. The tongue that loved to cut you down now tasted so sweet as you indulged in his lips at last. How you had ever been able to resist, you didn’t know.

Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts💜

For more mafia fun (and other stuff too!), here’s my masterlist

What is one thing you regretted the most in your teenage years?

One thing that I regretted... would be not understanding, not empathising and not loving with him more. It is undeniable that he has his own fault, but I was not sensitive enough to fully understand what he actually wanted. I only remembered blaming him for everything he did, which irks me, but I neglected why he had done so and would be hurt from what I commented.

What makes me feel even more guilty is he blamed himself for making me feel that way, making me upset and angry, creating all the unnecessary dramas that drifted both of us apart when I was clear that I was also at fault.

There is one common Chinese saying -- 失去了才知道珍惜 (Only when you lose it then you will cherish it), and I feel that it totally explains how we feel about this painfully broken relationship. It was our first time experiencing love attraction, learning how to love, and overcoming obstacles, but we were too immature to get over that.

We thought separating would be the most ideal decision to free each other from pain. Ironically, little did we know that the actual pain comes from finally understanding our faults and regrets, all the unspoken apologies and unexpressed love as we grow older and no longer by each other's side anymore.

They said that first love is the sweetest, and the first cut is the deepest. The scar will forever be carved in my heart and hurts no matter how old I get.

What is one thing you want to tell yourself if you can rewind the time?

Please apologise and tell him how much you love him, how much you regretted pushing him away and how much he means to you. He loved you with all his heart and soul, so please forgive him for everything he did and show him that you love him too. Don't be stingy to express them, because it is what he needed the most from you, that nobody can provide him with the same warmth and affection as you do. He had protected you with all his life and what have you actually done to reciprocate that?

When can I deliver the 4 unspoken words that I desperately want to let him know?

"Sorry, l love you."

—

-> Second person pov

"Y/n! Isn't this you and Hyunjin when we were in our last year?"

Alumni were invited back to your high school to have a gathering, and they have specially set up a gallery for all of you to walk through. You were initially hesitant to attend because you didn't dare to face your ex-first love if you were to bump into him again.

Your best friend managed to convince you, and despite turning up for it, your eyes still wandered around frequently, trying to spot the familiar body frame that you missed for 4 years. Anxiety lingered around your heart because you were trying to mentally prepare yourself, hoping you would not make a fool out of yourself when you meet him again.

Walking down the memory lane, you saw many nostalgic pictures hung across the wall, smiling foolishly at yourself when you spotted an unglam picture that you took with your best friends during a sports carnival. Your smile was frozen until you heard that name that it is unforgettable and how much it stings your heart even after 4 years.

It has been a long since you mentioned or even heard about him. How has he been doing? Has he been doing fine? Has he found someone better than you?

Piles of questions left unanswered in your brain as you walked over to your best friend's side, catching sight of a picture where both of you were wearing the school uniforms, hugging each other and smiling blissfully under a huge tree located in your high school.

It was the happiest day you ever had in your whole 18 years of life because both of you confessed to one another after having major crushes since middle school.

Coming back to the tree, it was reputable for fulfilling students' wishes when they tied their handwritten notes onto the branches. Nevertheless, both of you also tied your own wishes onto the tree.

Tears started accumulating around the brim of your eyes as your gaze stayed on the picture that became worn off. You still remember clearly how your form teacher sneakily took a picture of both of you and teased you for a good 1 week. To your surprise, you didn't expect her to pin up the picture in this gallery.

A picture speaks a thousand words. Those memories that you wanted to bury deep inside your brain so badly started replaying like a documentary again.

起 (qi) | Initial

To be just friends, you're too beautiful,

To just stay as friends, I know I'll regret this so,

I know I'll regret, so I decided to express my feelings,

I want to be more than just friends.

—

~ Spring 2018

"Welcome back to school, my dears, it is the last year of high school, which means national exams are coming. Also, I am pretty sure you guys have already mingled well with one another, so that means I can shuffle the seats, right?" Your homeroom teacher greeted all of you with her signature warm smile, immune to the dreading faces of the younger ones.

Not claiming the title of being the teacher's pet, you always somehow get better likings from your teachers despite your calm demeanour. You were not a chatty, gossipy girl that shares different tea in the morning or a rebellious girl that flunks studies or bullies other people. Staying on the neutral stand wouldn't make you offend anybody and reduce being the protagonist of the various dramas airing in school.

The only thing you are concerned about is your results, your wellbeing, your loved ones, and last but not least, your long term crush that lasted for the past 5 years from middle school. Miraculously, you have been in the same class with him since you met him till now.

"No objections? I will spin the wheel now," she continued on with her new game and rearranged everyone's seating arrangement. Perhaps it was a school reopen luck, you get to sit with your crush after being in the same class for 5 years.

"Hi! I think you already know me, we are tablemates now!" His joyful and welcoming expression painted more colours to your new year new day. Despite your heart beating at an insane speed, you faked a small smile as you didn't want him to think of you as a materialistic girl if you were to flash your white teeth at him.

It isn't your usual style at all.

"If I can't even remember you after being in the same class for 5 years, I should be visiting the doctor to get a full-body check-up," you joked while packing your textbooks under your table, hearing a light chuckle from the latter.

"I didn't know your humour is on the next level, nice knowing that," he placed one of his hands to support the side of his head, sitting slightly slanted to look at you until your homeroom teacher called for his attention. You smirked at him before flipping to the last page you were at, tapping your pen on the paper as you hear Hyunjin going on and on with his grandpa story.

Was he ever this talkative?

Both of you didn’t take a long time to get close to one another. Almost all your classmates were surprised by how the 2 least talkative people who got arranged to sit together started to talk endlessly in class. The chemistry between both of you was vigorous, including your feelings for him that increased exponentially overnight.

The relationship between you and Hyunjin felt like a drug — addictive and underlying toxicity. Both of you couldn’t get each other off your mind, despite putting on a calm facade. The passion flaming inside both hearts is crazy to the extent that both can appear in each other dreams that none of you mentioned.

You always thought that your feelings for him were a one-sided love, oblivious to the fact that he fell for you earlier than you did. Neither one dared to bring it up until the feelings started to overflow and suffocate him.

Before he decided to confess to you, you began to sense that something was different about him. The rate of coincidentally bumping into him in your neighbourhood rose, he always somehow appeared when you needed help, he would protect you at all costs — preventing you from getting injured in many cases, replacing you to receive detention when you forgot to bring your textbooks, buying you food when you didn’t have time to eat, taking care of you in class when your period came etc.

Although there were many questions you wanted to ask him, you didn’t have the courage because you were afraid that you were maybe just overthinking or misunderstanding his intentions.

What if the precious friendship is broken after you asked him the most burning question, “do you like me?”

So you ended up swallowing them back and down your throat.

Friends surrounding you and him were asking if both of you were dating, but there wasn’t an exact answer given to them because both of you are still between the fine line of close friends and lovers. Nonetheless, all the friends were sure that both of you would end up together one day, and that must be the most successful relationship they have ever witnessed.

That was what all of you thought.

There was one day when you remembered you didn’t sleep for nights due to overwhelming stress as exams were around the corner, you fell asleep in class. Hyunjin agreed to cover up for you so that the tutor would not scold you, and he did an excellent job. As you were still groggy in your sleep, you felt your eyes get darker. You assumed it was Hyunjin who tried to avoid sunlight shining at you so you could have a better sleep, so you decided to continue closing your eyes and get more rest.

Your mind was still hazy between sleep and awake, but one thing you could confirm was that you felt something soft and warm touch the corner of your lips. It stayed there for a while before leaving, making you lowkey still want more of it.

Many options ran in your already awakened mind, and the verdict was — his lips. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself it was not that, the sensation you felt clearly pointed towards his lips. As your brain searched for the answer, you felt a strand of hair tucked behind your ears, followed by a gentle caress from a warm hand.

It’s him. It’s definitely him.

Your burning question started rising again, and you decided to confront him then. Opening your eyes, you saw your tablemate froze in his action as he looked into your eyes while the warm sunlight shone on his flawless face. He looked like an angel.

“Perhaps…do you like me?”

That question was audible enough for both of you to hear, including the racing heartbeats that deafen whatever the tutor spoke.

I don’t care if we won’t be friends anymore after this, i just want to know the answer.

“What if i say yes?” he uttered softly under his breath, gazing at you as if you mean the whole world to him.

“Hyunjin, off to detention for 4 hours now,” you jumped from your seat as you immediately sat up straight, knowing that your tutor had caught him red-handed for talking in class. He sighed softly before exiting, leaving you hanging from the conversation that was cut off.

Since then, both of you started to drift a little apart and didn’t talk as much as before. It wasn’t because you didn’t like him anymore or he annoyed you, you just couldn’t bring yourself to look at him like how you used to be. You were able to be comfortable with him because you thought he only treated you as a close friend, for which you were already grateful enough. But with the knowledge of him having a huge chance of developing feelings for you, how can you face him when there wasn’t a defined label of the relationship?

Sometimes you felt like he was just kidding with you that day because he didn’t take any further actions afterwards. You were confused as hell about his feelings towards you, but you were too pussy to probe him more. Likewise, for him, he thought you didn’t like him and hence distant, so he decided to keep his own feelings to himself and let it fade over time.

Both of you thought the one-sided love would never be reciprocated until receiving courage from your friends to confess during Valentines Day. Even if both of you may feel hurt when one was rejected, at least the other party knew how important both meant to each other.

“Y/n, once you see this post it, please make your way to the wishing tree asap.”

You just returned from your music lesson, and you saw a pink post-it pasted on the middle of your table. It was prominent that the handwriting belonged to Hyunjin, and he wouldn’t do this kind of stuff except for urgent things. You ran your way down the stairs despite your tutor hollering you from the back, mind only thinking about him as you were afraid if he wanted to tell you anything important or worse, bad news.

“I’m-i’m here,” you panted heavily after dashing down from the classroom, taking over the plastic water bottle that he gave you. Muttering a quick ‘thanks’, you gulped the water while he signalled you over to sit with him on a bench below the tree.

After stabilising your breath, you asked, “why did you call me over now? Weren’t we supposed to be having a lesson? We can do it after school too.”

“I want to spend some time with you, only you,” he darted his eyes at you, triggering your heartbeat to be irregular again. You nodded awkwardly, turning your attention back to the water bottle in your hands, waiting for his following line.

“Did you confess to anyone today?”

You almost choked on your water when you heard that question.

“No…? Why?”

“Did anybody confess to you today?”

What the hell is wrong with him?

“No,” you answer subtly while looking at him with a confused expression, furrowing your eyebrows as he seemed weird that day.

“Great, i’ll be the one breaking the record today.”

Before you could even process, you already found him inches away from you, hands reached out to the back of your neck while his thumb gently grazed at your lips. His gaze wasn’t soft and warm like he usually has, but it was filled with desire and domination.

The implied message would be: “I want you, and i want to eat you up.”

You were not afraid because you knew he wasn’t someone who just fuck around and toyed with peoples’ feelings, proven by those straightforward rejections to those girls he didn’t pick an interest in. He also wasn’t someone who would hurt you as he cherished you like a fragile glass.

“The reason why i called you over today and now is because i want to tell you something that has been in my heart for very long. I know i’ll regret, but i still decided to express my feelings. I want us to be more than just friends because i like you a lot.”

Are my ears fooling me? Am i hallucinating? Is it real?

Your heartbeat was like hitting 200km/h and it almost fell out from your chest. Your head was spinning, ears were deafening and mouth drying up when you heard that confession come out of his mouth. He was staring into your eyes when he said those words, warm breath touching your skin, showing you that he was more than serious about what he just conveyed.

"I like you too."

Your long-awaited confession has finally left your mouth and been heard by the recipient. The one-sided love that both of you had was finally reciprocated.

We will now be together forever, right?

承 (cheng) | Escalation

I try to hide this feeling that I can't control,

I get carried away by this feeling that I can't control,

With you being so irresistibly charming,

I should have looked away, yet I'm mesmerised again.

—

~ Summer 2018

Even after 2 months, you still cannot believe your crush has turned into your boyfriend. It still felt like a hallucination during the confession day, where both of you poured your true feelings for each other, shedding tears of joy at how both of you finally belonged to one another.

The whole class soon knew that both of you had gone beyond the label of just ‘tablemates’ as they saw you guys going in and out of school together, eating in the canteen together, spending almost all your time together.

Dating him felt like a dream. He was all that fitted your ideal type perfectly and treated you like a queen. Of course, you were never a selfish girlfriend who just received, you also placed him on your priority, probably even above your parents.

Within a short span of 2 months, both parents have already met the other partner, and they are very much satisfied with each of you. With the affirmation of both families, you guys were more firm on blooming this relationship in the hope to walk together till the end of life.

There were many beautiful memories both of you shared — chatting in class when the tutor was boring, helping each other out in studies, staying back in the library to study and ending up falling asleep beside one another, hanging out after school in a nearby cafe to express all the sweet nothings etc. You felt inseparable from him because he meant the world to you and vice versa.

Everything feels right with him. You thought that you had found your significant other, your soulmate, your lifelong lover. Only when you grow older then you understand that it was just a honeymoon phase.

Most couples will feel the excitement, sexual arousal, nuance, and slightly obsessive 'lust', which all contribute to the reasons why both of you were addicted to one another.

"You lit up like a chandelier around me, and my eyes can only contain you."

You can never forget that sentence that he told you when both of you were having a picnic at the beach. It was a holiday period and you suggested going for a picnic, where he immediately agreed and volunteered to plan the outing for both of you. It was when you had a heart to heart talk with him, and you found out that he actually fell in love with you since the start of middle school.

"We were not even close, not to mention about conversing with one another," you reminded him as you heard him chuckle lightly.

"Yea I know, I mean, even though we didn't talk much, I have been observing you for a long time," he traced his hands over yours, finding a home for his palms. "You are quiet and calm as if nothing would affect you at all, even if the sky drops, which is something I like about you. You are not like other girls who wanted attention, wanted fame by gossiping about others or bootlicking the popular to join them or those that were snobbish when they scored full marks. You have always been yourself -- saying whatever you feel like saying, doing whatever you feel like doing, behaving like how you wanted to behave."

You looked at him with watery eyes when he pointed out all the features he spotted in you, feeling touched by how he remembered every piece of you in school that made him confirm you were who he wanted to be with. Never ever have you expected him to notice so many traits about you because you thought he never laid your eyes on you until he confessed.

Oh and, another reason why you were not bold enough to express your feelings is that he had always been the most popular guy in your cohort since middle school. You felt inferior to stand beside him because you felt like a wallflower that adds colour to his blooming image.

"Really? Am I that-"

"Yes, you are great, you have always been great, my dear. Don't ever degrade yourself because you deserved to be recognised," he pulled you closer to his embrace, running his hands behind your hand to soothe you from your insecurities.

You swore that the sunset during that day was the most beautiful sunset you have ever seen as you hugged your lover by your side. The comfort, warmth, love that you had always been seeking were found in his arms. You have dreamt of that scene countlessly and it finally came true, affirming your mind that he will be the one that was the most suited for you, fitting in like the last missing piece in your life.

"Hyun, I know it's too early to ask this, but will you always be with me?"

It was the most vulnerable state you have been in. As much as you hated to show your weak side to anybody, you knew that he was someone who would empathise with your situation, lending all his ears to hear you out, giving you the best consoles that you needed then. Both of you were still young, the future was unpredictable and you felt that having a long-term relationship does sound promising but uncertain at the same time.

What if his feelings faded over time?

What if my feelings faded over time?

What if he found a better person than me?

What if more obstacles are coming in our way as we enter adulthood?

Are we still able to maintain our relationship like how we are now?

There was an abundance of uncertainties residing in your brain, and you felt the need to let him know. Having attraction, falling in love, getting together is definitely easier than challenges, conflicts, disappointments coming in the way.

"Of course, I will. No matter what happens, I will always be by your side," he replied firmly as he hugged you tighter, showering you with soft kisses on your head as both of you enjoyed the sunset. His reply did make you feel better, and you believed in him.

Kisses with him were the ultimate gift that you ever received. Recalling how he was so careful when asking if he could kiss you, if the force was right, if you were okay with the speed... all the stupid questions that came up from him until you shut him up by kissing him back.

He was very respectful when coming to things that were your virgin tries, and he always ensured that you were totally comfortable with him until he proceeded further. His pink, juicy, plump lips felt tailor-made for you.

The first kiss was distinctive. You remembered clearly how he lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table, hands around your waist, holding you tight. He still asked you, "are you sure you want to do it? We can stop if you don't feel comfortable," even though he was eyeing your lips for a long time, you just shook your head and told him you were ready for it.

You were supposed to study at his house as invited by his mother, but it ended up becoming a steamy session when you accidentally fell on him when you tried to reach out for his book.

Lust and desire, isn't it?

His lips gently brushed against yours like butterfly wings, staying long enough to inhale your breath, feeling the warmth of your skin as the pad of his thumb rubbed softly against your tee and the taste of your lip balm that lingered around.

"No regrets?"

"No regrets."

His lips soon smashed against yours and kissed you like how he wanted to be kissed. It wasn't rough, but he was trying to seek union with your lips when both of you shared one breath, one sensation and the passionate moment that revolves around only you and him. Your shirt gradually got lifted as his hands went beneath that sent electricity across your body, igniting the fire inside you as you felt heat rising to your cheeks. Soft mewls escaped your lips as he devoured you like his prey, tracing your abdomen as you threw your hands around his neck.

Thankfully the door was locked, if not you would dig a hole on the floor and jump in then. It felt like euphoria when he explored your inner mouth, sucking and licking every part of it while letting out soft groans that were only audible for both of you to hear. All the test questions and answers were far behind both minds, as all you could think about was to show your love to him.

Both of you finally pulled away, panting heavily from the heated session both of you shared. If not for running out of breath, he swore he would continue on and on because your lips felt like a drug to him. Hands still intact with your skin, he pulled you into his arms as he dived deeper into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses on it as you closed your eyes and enjoyed his dominance.

"Did I go too far?" He uttered under his breath as you shook your head.

"I won't let you off easily next time," you winced at an unfamiliar pain that was on your neck as he pulled away, smirking at you before asking you to go to the mirror and see for yourself.

"Holy shit you-" you playfully whacked his arms as he pulled you down to sit beside him, continuing where both of you left off from the discussion earlier.

After that day of the first intimate session both of you shared, you guys had gotten closer and felt more comfortable with physical contacts that were beyond the norm. Things were going exponentially well until he received a letter from a university he applied to in the UK.

When you first heard the news, you were genuinely happy for him, but the more it ran in your mind, your worries of maintaining a long-distance relationship triggered your insecurity again. Nevertheless, you still wanted him to pursue his dream of being an interior designer. You knew that he had always wanted to further study in that field, and now he finally received his acceptance letter, you didn't want to be a burden to him.

He is an intelligent, talented, hardworking person that deserves the opportunities, and it was finally his turn to spread his wings.

The process of accepting both of you would be apart for 3 years was already tough. You guys had been discussing what would be the best plan to sustain this relationship when he would be abroad in 6 months time and to be honest, it was brain-wrecking. No matter how concrete the plan would be, there would definitely be underlying issues that rose unexpectedly.

As both of you were already coming to a consensus after endless discussions, conflicts, arguments due to disparity in perceptions, issues started to rise again when your childhood best friend, Han Jisung finally returned from Malaysia.

Will we still be able to stand firm together despite all the obstacles coming in our way, or will we fall apart?

转 (zhuan) | Twist

I blame myself, I blame you,

I don't know whom to blame, my resent grows,

Trying to break down the wall between us just brеaks my heart,

While making my mind up, I missed thе most important one.

—

~ Autumn 2018

"Hey, Jisung! So happy to see you again!" You gave a warm tight hug to your long-time-no-see bestie, ignorant to the black-faced Hyunjin standing behind you and crossing his arms. Before arriving at the airport to fetch him, you had a minor conflict with Hyunjin because he was reluctant to follow you and last-minute changing his mind to come along.

"If you are not happy, then don't come," that was your last words before hanging up the phone the night before. When you first shared the news of your guy best friend coming back to him, he made a big fuss out of it because he felt you would spend more time with Jisung than him.

You thought he would be receptive to it, but little did you know that he would have such a big reaction, which made you feel wronged. You understood that he felt insecure because he presumed Jisung to be his 'enemy', as he had childhood trauma caused by his family.

He grew up in a problematic childhood where he was the most unfavourite child among his other 2 siblings (let's assume he has here okay). Ever since he was born, he was never doted by his family and was forced to be independent when he was a kid. He never had many possessions, but he would never let it go the moment he had it. He didn't tell you this until one of the days when you had a midnight call with him.

As the days went by, his true colours started to reveal -- he got agitated when you were talking to other guy classmates, as well as those guy colleagues you worked with. Initially, you were patient with his actions because you empathised with his situation, and you did your best to assure him that you would always be by his side.

However, things started to get overboard when he picked a fight with your assigned partner during lesson time. You recalled that you were just sitting slightly closer to your partner because both of you were analysing a picture, and he suddenly barged in and punched your partner in the face.

The situation got out of hand when the fight got worse and no matter how much you tried to stop him, his fury overshadowed his rationality until you slapped him in the face.

Your heart stung badly like how your palm was.

The whole class went so silent that even a pin drop could be heard. You opened your mouth wide as you saw his redden cheeks and your burning palm, immediately regretting slapping him. However, you were also triggered because he created chaos in the class, punching someone innocent.

Both of you looked at each other with reddened eyes. He realised what he had done, and he knew it was wrong. Likewise, you realised you hurt him, which was terrible as well.

"Y/n, Hyunjin, (partner's name), come to the teacher's office now."

The 3 of you got reprimanded by the discipline master, but none of his words entered your brain. The only thing you thought of was to confront Hyunjin, as well as apologise to him. The moment your discipline master released 3 of you, you dragged Hyunjin to the end of the corridor that was more secluded so you could have a private space to talk to him.

"Hyun, I'm-I'm so sorry, i-i didn't mean to," your head hung low as guilt gushed all over your heart. No matter how angry you were at him for making the reckless move, it was your fault for slapping him.

"No, no it’s okay, I'm sorry too, babe, I was-i was...I was jealous..." he replied apologetically as he fiddled with his fingers, waiting for your answer.

"Hyun, I know it's my fault for slapping you, I'm very sorry for that, but why would you do that? We were just discussing and you just came in to punch him as if he harassed me, how am I supposed to face him now? We are only halfway done with our project and how can I work properly with him in the future?" You combed your hair to the back frustratedly as you looked at the latter in front of you, stifling his tears as he nodded at your response.

"Hyun, what happened? It wasn't the first time you did this. The previous time you hit my colleague as well, remember? I almost lost my job... and now this, how am I supposed to face him and the rest of our classmates? Hyun, I totally understand your emotions, I heard you and I assured you repeatedly that I am always by your side, why would you still do this?"

You knew, you knew whatever you said would stab his heart, but he needed to know that you had your own limits as well. There were countless times when you had to take time to talk to him, making sure he understood where you were coming from. You were never born patient, but he was constantly challenging your limits.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry babe..." his cries got louder as your heart softened.

It was a toxic cycle. Unsure when the relationship had been going on a downfall as you started to interact with other male figures. He will first give you a black face, ignoring your words, waiting for you to probe him and you always did, then conflicts rise, followed by his fights with others if it was severe if not he will start approaching you again after cooling down for a few days.

You felt sick of entertaining all of these anymore, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to break things off with him. You were aware that because he put you at the top of his heart, that’s why his reactions were always theatrical, but it started to make you feel suffocated.

However, whenever you saw him breaking down, your heart felt weak and you forgave him because you knew that he was sensitive to your distance with guys, but you continued to do so despite him telling you that he didn’t like it. You were unable to blame him as you were not focusing on his needs as well. Things were starting to subside until Jisung came back from Malaysia.

“Oh my god bestie, I missed you too! By the way, this is…?”

“Her boyfriend,” Hyunjin came over from the back, sharply pulling you beside him as you winced at the impact. You laughed awkwardly as you darted a glare at the latter, suppressing your anger when he just rudely pulled you away, leaving Jisung speechless.

“Ah-oh, hi, I'm Han Jisung, y/n’s close friend,” he reached out his hand, wanting to make friends with Hyunjin. Hyunjin just flashed a fake smile at him before changing the topic, leaving Jisung’s hand awkwardly in the air.

“Jisung, don’t mind him, he’s just a little angsty today, let’s go,” you shoved Hyunjin’s hand off your waist and went over to Jisung side, leading him to the car that you have driven over earlier and Hyunjin tracing behind both backs unwillingly.

Having Jisung around made the relationship between you and Hyunjin worse. Of course, it’s none of Jisung’s fault because he wasn’t even aware of what was going on between the both of you, but just got dragged in from time to time in the arguments you had with Hyunjin.

As Jisung was transferred to the same school, he had to start from year 2 as the syllabus was slightly different from Malaysia. You mentioned to Hyunjin before that Jisung needed more help in his studies and you were the only one he knew that could guide him, so you will take some time over to Jisung’s house and tutor him.

This issue had been going on before Jisung returned, and the consensus was already agreed upon that you would take 2 days to help Jisung and spend the rest of time with him. However, there were times when you had to go over for extra 1 or 2 days as exams were coming.

You felt unfair that you had to restrain your time spent with Jisung as your boyfriend wasn’t fond of it. You wanted to catch up with Jisung but could not do so as you knew that if you stayed for an extra 5 minutes, you would receive spam calls from him. When you rushed over to his side, he would say sarcastic words that add flame to your fire.

You felt guilty about one thing because you lied to Hyunjin for a good 2 weeks that you had to work overtime, but in fact, you were at Jisung’s house. He only found out when he decided to do a surprise visit at your shop, only to hear from your manager that you weren’t assigned duty that day.

All infuriated, he decided to find you and confront you. To his dismay, you were not in your own house as well. He decided to wait for you to come back while cooling down his anger, as he knew that you disliked him raising his voice in any sort of situation.

“Hyun? Wh-why are you here..?” your voice quivered as you saw your boyfriend standing by your door, emitting icy cold energy from his eyes.

You knew that you were busted.

“Weren’t you supposed to be working?” he asked monotonously, sending shivers down your spine as you were certain that you couldn’t lie further.

“Let’s go in and talk,” not wanting your neighbours to hear, you unlocked the door and let him in, ready to start another world war.

“Answer me now.” The moment the door was shut, he pinned you against the wall while ordering you to answer him.

He was angry, very angry at you.

“I-i-i’m sorry, I lied,” you squeezed your eyes shut as you owned up your mistake, hearing a sharp inhale from the latter as he pulled away from you.

You were expecting him to yell at you, but he just kept quiet and looked at you with redden and swollen eyes that showed he had been crying before you even returned home. "Why? Why did you lie to me?"

His trembling voice broke your heart. You were speechless, flustered, anxious because it was indeed your fault. In order to spend more time with Jisung, you decided to take the worse approach, which is to lie when you could have talked to him nicely, and he probably would have understood your stand.

The method of resolving numerous conflicts has been wrong since the beginning. Instead of talking things out and explaining both rationales, both of you kept arguing for nothing but not sharing the true intentions behind your thoughts.

"I-I was afraid that you would be angry, then you would pick a fight with Jisung again..." your voice quivered as you looked down on the floor.

Silence.

Your anxiety is creeping in as it was your first time seeing Hyunjin keeping his mouth shut as he stared at you. It was scarier than him shouting or arguing because you knew things were worsening.

"Y/n, do you know why I have acted this way since the beginning?"

Right, why did he act this way? Isn’t he is just jealous because i talked to opposite genders? But is that really it?

"No..."

"Y/n, you know sometimes I really hate how insensitive you are. Those guys who talked to you in school were trying to court you. How could you not notice that? Didn't you notice their gazes? Didn't you notice those 'coincidental' touches? Did you even consider my feelings?"

Your mouth opened wide as you recalled those flashbacks. Those interactions you had with the guy schoolmates, who always appear whenever Hyunjin was around. There were times when they touched your hand but ended up apologising and said they were coincidental. Now that you look back, you realise that those were intentional and you fell for it. However, as you mind flashed how he always fought with them, the blood in your stomach boiled again.

Many people were speculating your reaction towards his reckless actions. There were many times when you felt ashamed because you had an immature boyfriend who went around punching people because of his jealousy.

"Well, but there isn't a need to fight with them right? Like, I get that you are angry and jealous, but fighting doesn't resolve things?! Why didn't you tell me instead?"

"I didn't tell you?! I remembered myself bringing up many times to ask you not to go close to them, but you don't listen?! You always said that I am possessive and doesn't give you the space you need, but have you ever considered what do I exactly need? I can respect you but have you given me the same respect I gave?"

"But Hyunjin, I get that you are angry but you know the moment I recall those fights you have gotten into, got called into the discipline master's office various times and getting yourself bruised makes me feel upset? I feel ashamed, that my boyfriend has to act like that in order to protect his girlfriend. I know that I am at fault, but aren't you accountable for your actions as well?"

Fury, blames, disappointment filled the atmosphere.

"I definitely am, but it is because I love you so much, that I can't control myself at times. I got so jealous whenever I see you with others, especially your bestie. I know nothing is going on, but I still feel jealous, urgh!"

"Hyunjin! I already said many many times that we are just besties and he already has his own crush! It has been a long since we met and we need time to catch up? Why can't you even spare that mercy for me?! Oh dear like, you know your love makes me feel suffocated? I want to live like other normal girls as well, who has the freedom to befriend opposite genders while having a boyfriend. Yes, I may have neglected you, but can't we understand each other?"

You broke down when you finished your words, crumbling on the floor as you cried your lungs out. You immediately regretted saying those but you couldn't take it anymore. Likewise, for him, he was also bawling his eyes out when he looked at the situation both of you were in.

“I’m so tired Hyunjin, really, i thought we were fine, but what exactly happened to us…” you choked on your words as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks, clutching your throbbing head from excessively crying and the painful situation you were in.

We were not how we used to be anymore.

None of you expected this day to come so soon. 6 months back you guys were living the real definition of eudaemonia but now, things seemed to have collapsed and a strong hint of separation would the best decision to spare each of your life.

Why did things end up the way we least wanted them to be? We know that we truly love each other, but what had gone wrong? Were we in the wrong place, wrong time to get together? Is that all for us?

合 (he) | verdict

The fact that we've grown even further apart than we were makes me weary,

Because of my honesty, there is no relief, all that remain is regret.

—

~ Winter 2018

You were not feeling anywhere better even after 3 months of breaking up with your ex-lover.

“I just want to tell you that, meeting you is the best decision i have made, but the time and place that we met is wrong. We are young, immature, unable to express our love like how we want it to be which leads us to the situation now. Maybe breaking up is the best for now.”

That was the hardest decision you have ever made — to initiate a break-up with him. Breaking up was the last thing you would want to do on earth, but you felt that persisting in that torn relationship with 2 broken hearts would cause more pain for both of you. It wasn’t because you didn’t love him anymore, but you didn’t have the energy to love him the way he wanted you to be, vice versa.

That night was excruciating for you. Those redden eyes, nose, cheeks of his flashed in your brain countlessly, even in your dreams. His words were carved in your brain, frequently stabbing your heart when you recalled it.

“You were the first person I ever loved so deeply, but you are also the first person I lost, im sorry my love, i didn’t know my love would cause that much pain for you, maybe splitting would be the most ideal way for us now. Sorry, i love you.”

And he left your house without looking back. It was difficult for him to say the same thing as you, but it was a fact that there was no way out of this relationship and ending would put a stop to both sufferings.

Loving someone is hard, but breaking up with the person you loved the most is harder.

From that day onwards, you never saw him in school anymore. As the final year was coming to an end, you knew that he was busy preparing for his documents that would be brought over to UK. Touching the empty table beside you, you could only mock yourself for the worst state you were in and the regretful decision you made.

“I miss you,” the only 3 words that you could mutter to the empty cold seat every day you entered your class.

Winter came and everyone started to whip out their thick and furry jackets, likewise for you. The only difference you had with others would be, your heart still felt icy cold no matter how many layers you were wearing, because you lost the source of warmth that could keep your heart on fire.

You were no longer like how you used to be before you dated him. Unable to focus in class, submitting incomplete work, a drastic drop in grades as you often daydream the past that you had with him until got pulled back to earth when your tutor called you. You also started to isolate yourself from your friends, only to wander around the school where both of you spent time together.

“Y/n, are you okay?” you were daydreaming as you sat on the bench below the wishing tree. It was an instinct for you to go over that day, to review the note that both of you left during Valentine's day.

“Y/n and Hyunjin will be forever together”, that was the message. Both of you even signed at the end of it, tieing it with a red string before leaving. Now that you revisited it again, he wasn’t around anymore.

Maybe i shouldn’t have initiated the breakup…

Overthinking badly, this statement has run through your mind since you broke up till now. No matter how regretful you are, things can’t go back to how it used to be.

It was snowing that day and you were sitting on the bench tearing up. As you caressed the bench with your gloves, a sudden surge of tears rushed to the brim of your eyes, falling like pearls until your tutor walked over to check in with you.

“Saem, i-i feel a par-part of me is- is gone,” you tried to stifle your tears while covering your mouth, but it got out of hand as your form teacher hugged you. She knew everything because she was close with you, and definitely able to understand as she had gone through before.

“I feel bad, i feel so bad, i shouldn’t have said that…” your cries got louder as your brain kept replaying the last day you met him. Your tutor tried to calm you down by whispering consoling words into your ears, only effective for a few seconds.

“Y/n, everything happens for a reason. Parting now may not be a total bad outcome, what if you are able to meet him again in the future? This distance will help both of you to learn your own mistakes, learn how to love the other, learn how to empathise with each other. Until the day when both of you are enlightened, you guys will cross paths again. Trust me, i am sure that he wants to see you doing well because he loves you. I have saw numerous times where he focused, talked about you alot, so i am sure that there will be a day where both of you reunite again, okay?”

That was the longest yet most precious word your tutor has ever shared with you. Your cries ceased, slowly absorbing whatever she has said. She made her point and the only thing you could do then was to pull up your socks and live on. Dwelling in the past doesn’t solve things but only focusing on the current or future can determine your life.

That was the last time you cried till now. Numbing yourself, you decided to isolate all your emotions as you prepared for your final exams, only aiming to go to a good university and study something you want — which is to become a psychologist. And you did, you caught up in the last lap and managed to enter where you aimed.

It was the day when Hyunjin was going to leave for UK and you contemplated if you should at least send him off. He didn’t tell many people about it, and he once said that he really hope to see you there before departing. However, with this situation, do you still even have the audacity to go?

“Y/n, if you really want to go, just follow your heart. It doesn’t matter whether both of you are still able to reconcile, but at least go and tell him those words that you failed to deliver to him,” your mum came over to your side, patting your shoulders as you were sitting on the dining chair churning your brain.

You only live once.

“Okay mum, i’ll go now, thank you,” you set your mind and you swiftly took your sling bag, rushing out of the door to book a grab. It was 30mins left to his departure and you desperately hoped that you were able to make it. By the time you arrived, you saw from the screen that the flight gate that he would be taking was already opened. You dashed quickly to the departure gate despite knocking onto a few people, muttering a quick ‘sorry’ as your eyes were spotting for his figure.

“Hyunjin!” You saw that he was about to enter, turning his head back and stunned at your presence. You were panting heavily as you hold on to your knees, trying to catch some breath before saying a few words.

“Why are you here?” He rushed over to you, slightly furrowing his eyebrows as he saw the layer of sweat on your forehead. “I-i came to say, say a few words before, before you leave,” you swallowed your saliva, looking up at his worried face.

He still loves you, doesn’t he?

“I know, i know you are running out of time but, i just wanted to say-“

“This is the final boarding call for passengers Mr Hwang Hyunjin booked on flight 372A to London. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Mr Hwang Hyunjin. Thank you.”

Ah shit!

“You wanted to say?” He was still staring at you with worries written all over his face, but you didn’t want to hold him back anymore, so you just briefly blurted whatever was on your mind.

“Nothing much, i just wanted to say, good luck for your university life in London, we may or may not meet again, but i wish you all the best,” you faked the brightest smile you could before chasing him to enter because you didn’t want to be the cause of his delayed arrival.

You already burdened him enough for 1 year, it wouldn’t be nice to burden him more for his future.

After he entered the departure gate while turning to wave at you, you broke into tears as you crumbled onto the floor. Blaming yourself for being such a coward, you contemplated too much if you should come to send him. Even so, you still didn’t tell him the 4 words that you have always wanted him to know.

“Sorry, i love you.” They were useless no matter how many times you repeated as you looked at the fading from your sight. People were judging you but you couldn’t care less, as your whole mind could only focus on scolding yourself for being a pussy, that wasn’t even able to end a relationship right.

Till when will we meet again? Will you have already found a better person in the place you are in? Will there be a chance for us to reconcile again?

The most memorable yet heartwrenching year out of 22 years of your life.

之后 (zhi hou) | After

But maybe I took too long

Our timings were off, I feel like I'm being punished

What I did to get closer to you was rather

Building a wall between us, I'm speechless

—

~ Spring 2022

“Hey y/n! Congratulations on your bachelor degree! Damn, we are having a psychologist soon!” You received a warm hug from your bestie, Jisung while his partner stood by the side. Throughout the 4 years, he never leaves you alone trying to piece back every part of you. He is still that best friend just like how you met him since 7, and you are incredibly grateful for that.

“Thanks Han, congrats on your studio opening as well!” You patted his back as you replied. Jisung recently opened a production studio where he helps artists to produce songs. So talented, isn’t it?

You managed to graduate with a high score and you were on the honour’s list. Surviving the 4 years was not easy — you had to handle the broken heart inside you while putting on a facade in front of others, juggling with the enormous workload that stressed you out every day and working part-time to at least feed yourself as the uni fees were costly.

In your uni years, all you thought of were to study hard and work hard. Open for relationships? It wasn’t in your mind until someone confessed to you half a year later into your freshman year. You thought you were receptive to a new and incoming relationship but when it really happened, you still turned down as your heart still couldn’t eliminate that 1 person that took it away — Hyunjin, of course.

You couldn’t remember how many times your other best friend that you made in high school adviced you to get a new boyfriend, but it doesn’t sound like a good idea compared to having a new part-time work with more attractive pay. “Y/n, you can’t keep dwelling in the past. What’s over is over already, you need to move on and you may meet a better person in future, isn’t it?”

“Yea, yea, yea, you are right,” you brushed it off quickly as you continued to focus on doing your literature review. You understood where she was coming from, but you still felt there maybe a chance both of you could reconcile again. Claim it to be daydreaming, you just don’t feel the vibe to get into one right now.

“Damn y/n, I'm soooo proud of you, you finally made it after 4 years,” your best friend Lydia came over and gave you another hug, while her square hat accidentally knocked onto your jaw. “Yes i did, i mean, we did, im very proud of you as well,” you soothed her back as she giggled.

“Are you going to further study?” She asked, which earned a little attention from your parents and Jisung. You paused for a while before answering.

Should i? But i need a Masters degree to become a licensed psychologist, but i still need to study for a few more years…

“Maybe, i mean, after all i need a Masters degree? I shall see how,” you flashed a light smile before shifting the topic to take a group picture, even though a part of you wished he was around.

How has he been doing? Is he doing fine? Has he found someone better than you? Maybe he did because he deserves it…

“Y/n, say cheese!” Your senses came back to earth as you heard your other classmate, who is also one of your good friends, Seungmin called you and you smiled wider.

“Thanks Seung,” you took the camera over and scrolled through the pictures. “Still miss him?”

You were busy checking the photos, grinning unconsciously until his question took you aback. Stopping in your actions, you closed the camera and looked at him.

“Does it matter anymore? It’s not like we are meeting again,” your voice shook as you scoffed at yourself.

It’s not true, it definitely matters, and it matters alot. Why were you saying things that are opposite from what you thought? Or were you just too egoistic to admit you still love him after all?

“It definitely matters, he is coming back y/n.”

—

“xxx High School is sincerely inviting all Alumni that graduated in the year of 2018 to come back here and have a gathering. There will be a special gallery set up for all alumni to have a walkthrough, reminiscence their high school years and catch up with their classmates. Should you wish to come over, do flash this invitation card at the entrance to gain permission, we hope to see you there!”

You stared at this invitation card for a long while. The school logo that was right smacked at the cover of the card pulled you back into your high school memories that were filled with ups and downs. You soon received spam messages from Lydia and they were all about convincing you to go to the gathering with her.

“Omg plweaseeeeeee y/n, come with me okay?”

“Just for a short while is also fine, i hope you come with meeeeee”

“Don’t you miss our memories back then? Let’s go back and do all the stupid shit again!”

“I know what is running in your mind, but you only coming with me okay, only me!”

“If you really happen to run into him, isn’t it a good chance to speak your unspoken words?”

Right, unspoken words.

As much as you detest going back to school, you still didn’t want to give up the chance of meeting him again. The odds may be small, but it is still worth a try isn’t it?

“Okay, i’ll go,” you swiftly punched the letters in, placing the card back into the envelope before you plop onto your bed, staring into the ceiling. Taking up your hand, you stared at the ring that you have never taken off since 4 years back. It was a promise ring that he bought for you on your birthday, one for you and one for him.

Did he throw his away? I hope not.

There were many times when you wanted to remove and keep it somewhere, or even throw it away, but you just couldn’t do so. The ring wasn’t rare or expensive, but it was something that you poured your heart out for someone for the first time and despite not ending well, it still shaped your life and who you became. Groaning at how you couldn’t get him off your mind, you just decided to wrap yourself beneath your comforter and get some sleep.

The day came quicker than any other day and you woke up early to dress even though you claimed that you were totally not enthusiastic about it. Lydia was already waiting for you downstairs and you ran down after bidding goodbye to your mum.

“My girl said that she doesn’t want to go, not looking forward to it but oh look, she’s dressing herself,” your best friend made a sarcastic remark as she saw you wearing dress once in a blue moon as you rolled your eyes at her.

“Talk properly,” you slapped her arm playfully and she broke into peals of laughter, signalling you to hop into her brand new car that she bought a week back. That is the life you wanted, having a rich best friend who gives all her back when you needed and never forget about you when she succeeded. Being an entrepreneur requires lots of courage and resources, and not many actually earned big bucks out of it. Maybe lady luck is on her side, her business is prospering now.

The car ride was pleasant until both of you reached the school. Your anxiety starts to kick in again as you saw the nostalgic building, and the people who almost faded off your memory became prominent again.

“Hey Lydia and y/n, wow you guys have been besties for so long! How have both of you been?” Your form teacher, who is the one who comforted you when you sat on the bench crying beneath the snowfall. “I have been great! Got my own business now~” Lydia smiled sheepishly as she nudged your elbow lightly, asking you to follow up her sentence.

“Oh yea, i-i have been doing okay, preparing for my Masters,” your tutor looked at you with sparkling eyes, mouth opening wide when she heard about your accomplishment. “Im so happy to hear both of you are blossoming! Are you guys attached?”

You looked at Lydia and she did the same. Both of you are definitely not taken, despite the countless courters queuing to get both numbers.

“No saem, we don’t have haha…” both voices trailed off and your tutor chuckled. “That’s okay! Do what makes you happy and relationships can wait, oh and, go and take a look at the gallery before coming to the hall to grab your meals, we’ve got budget now,” she winked at both of you before ushering you guys to the gallery.

The moment you caught sight of the exhibition, your tears started making their way to the brim of your eyes. Those photos, those video montages, those voice recordings, those written hand messages across the wall punched your soft spot. You thought you hated high school until you revisit them again.

It is because you love high school too much that you hated it ended too fast. No matter how immature all of you were, we can never be like how we used to be anymore.

"Y/n! Isn't this you and Hyunjin when we were in our last year?"

Your smile froze when you heard that name again.

“Y/n? Are you listening to me?”

You are pulled back to earth when you looked at Lydia staring at you with a perplexed expression. Your mind went too far off to recap those memories as you gazed at the picture. “Why are you crying?”

“Me? Crying?” Your hands reached out to your cheeks and you realised a strand of tear fell from your eyes. You are oblivious to them as you were too caught up recalling until you noticed your cheeks got wet and your shirt that has a tear stain.

“Oh, nothing much, just feeling nostalgic, let’s go,” you wiped off the rest from your eyes before pulling Lydia away, continuing down the memory lane. Both of you were laughing at how foolish you look when your unglam was taken during Sports day. You met a few old classmates along the way and chatted with them, before exiting the gallery that leads to the area where the wishing tree is located.

Gaze fixating onto that wishing tree, the image of both of you confessing reappeared again, lightly smiling, you tugged onto Lydia’s hand before making your way to the hall.

Everyone was present except him. Looking at the empty seat beside you, just like how you looked at it 4 years ago, your heart fell as the chance of you meeting him became slimmer and negligible. Trying to put on a happy facade, you replied to your classmates' questions courteously until they asked you if there was any sequel after you and Hyunjin’s relationship.

“No, nothing happened,” you answered monotonously as you took a sip from the cup of tea, implying that you didn’t want to entertain anymore. Understanding your passive behaviour, everyone kept quiet and shifted the topic.

“Excuse me,” you muttered softly before making a move as you didn’t want to stay inside anymore. Totally not focusing on what the emcee was saying, you rather exit to take a fresh air instead of cooping inside. Taking the flight of stairs down, your feet brought you back to the wishing tree that you missed the most.

There are more notes tied now, you thought. The legacy must have been passed on successfully…

Climbing onto the bench, you wanted to search for the note that you used to tie with him. No matter how distorted it is, at least you wanted to retrieve back the note and bring it home. There wouldn’t be a reason why you need to leave it here as he wouldn’t come back either.

“Found it,” you uttered as you jumped down from the bench, wiping some residues off the note. The words are slightly faded, but still legible to read. Giggling softly at the handwriting, your urge of tearing came again while trying to force a smile. He has always been your soft spot, no matter how many years have passed.

Still carefully caressing the old note, you suddenly feel a few raindrops falling from the sky. It came too fast that you didn’t have time to react, you quickly hide the note inside your bag and wanted to run into the building. Before you could even turn your body, you don’t sense any water dripping on your head anymore.

Weird… it’s still raining heavily but why don’t i feel it?

You slightly tilt your head to the top, seeing a transparent umbrella hovering over your head. Feeling grateful, you turned your body to thank the kind soul, but no words come out of your mouth as your eyes caught the familiar figure standing inches away from you that is unforgotten since 4 years back.

“Am i dreaming?” you accidentally blurted your thoughts out and immediately covered your mouth, earning a light chuckle from the latter. You looked at him with confusion, slightly pinching your skin to prove to yourself you are not dreaming.

“You are not,” he answered softly while staring at you. His gaze is like a mystery — it feels like it is filled with nostalgia, love, hate, neutral, you don’t know. You only know he is standing in front of you now.

He looked even more charming as compared to 4 years back, no more childish vibes emitting from him, only mature energy. He look taller and more toned than he was, blonde hair tied in a ponytail instead of the old black one. Covering with a long coat, it makes him look more untouchable because you felt like a peasant talking to a god.

“I know…” you looked down at the hem of your shirt, fingers fiddling with them as your heart starts to race again like how you first met him. An awkward silence filled the air until he initiated. “It has been long…isn’t it?”

His voice also got deeper, got more addictive. You are timid to raise your head because you know you will be hooked onto his eyes, so you rather keep it low.

“Yea…actually, i have something to tell you… have been in my heart for 4 years and, you know, they aren’t delivered,” taking a harsh deep breath, you decided to confess that unspoken phrase to him.

It doesn’t matter whether you are able to reconcile with him anymore. All you wanted to do is to let him know your bottled heartfelt words. This timing is the best because you don’t know when it will come again, or maybe not.

“Go ahead, all ears for you,” he took a step closer to you, making your heart beat faster than it was despite him not touching you at all. It is raining, but why do you feel so warm?

Squeezing your eyes tight, you mastered your last courage to look at the latter into his eyes, muttering “Sorry, i love you.”

Oh my god, i finally said it, i finally said it!

Heaving a sigh of relief, you felt a heavy stone lifted off your chest. You avert your gaze to elsewhere because he is still staring at you and god knows why, trying to act as normal as you can.

“You know, you-you don’t have to say anything, i-i just wanna let you know… that’s all,” your nervousness rose because he was silent the whole time after you confessed to him. The fiddliness on the hem of your shirt got more obvious while you bite on your lower lip. You can’t help it, self talks don’t work anymore.

“Sorry, i love you too,” he uttered softly that was only audible for the both of you to hear, other than the raindrops splashing on the floor. People were running into the building but both of you are squeezing under a transparent umbrella, shooting unexplainable gazes at one another, weirdly romantic.

A part of your heart plunged because you thought that is really the end of both of you. End of teenage, end of the relationship, end of the chapter. Well, that doesn’t sound too bad too right? At least both of you once loved each other before, fight for each other before, quarrel with each other before…

Life is full of regrets, isn’t it? Why didn’t both of you hold onto each other tighter? Why didn’t both of you talk to each other? Why didn’t-

“Y/n, can we start from square one?”

-> author’s note: omg i finally finished this… i took like 2 weeks to finish it because i was preparing for my last lap of acadamic year and i wanted to give up halfway but thank god i didn’t >< sorry if thr’s grammar errors because i barely got time to vett, ignore those thank you!!

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