#kwritersworldnet

“Come on, baby—”

“No, Cheol. I have to go to work, and I cannot be late again.”

“Just the tip, please—”

“Cheol.”

It’s one of those mornings when your husband, Seungcheol, can’t keep his hands off you. It started early this morning when he woke you up with kisses before your alarm went off five minutes later. Not wanting to risk being late, you slipped out of bed and ran into the shower, hoping it would stop his antics. But then you catch him watching you as you dry off, discreetly palming himself under the blanket. You feel him creep up on you as you’re bent over, rubbing your body with your favorite lotion that leaves you smelling divine. You throw him a look in the mirror, watching him gaze at you with a mix of love and lust.

“It’s not happening, sir,” you warn, turning to face him. “I can’t be late to work today.”

“Why?” He raises his brows. “Do you have an important meeting today?”

“No,” you say carefully, acutely aware that you are still naked. “I just don’t want to be late today.”

You are putting up a brave front, stepping around him and into the closet. His hand brushes against your hips on the way, and tiny jolts of excitement spread throughout your body. Despite you saying no, your body says the opposite, your insides practically screaming to let him put in said tip. It doesn't help that Seungcheol looks the sexiest in the mornings, with his sleepy look and slightly disheveled hair. You imagine your fingers running through it, tugging it tightly while you kiss his perfect lips, riding him—

“Ahem.”

Snapping out of your reverie, you glance at Seungcheol before praying your perfume and body mist. He saunters toward you, his hands caressing your hips as his lips grace your neck. Your breath hitches involuntarily, your body betraying you as it reacts to his touch. He knows what he is doing, and you want to give in, but you must stay strong and stick to the schedule.

“Seungcheol,” you softly murmur, attempting to free yourself from him gently. “Not now.”

His fingers sneak lower, flirting with your bikini line. You turn, squinting your eyes at him before successfully unwrapping his hands around you and walking away. You had to leave for your own sake, because if you stayed a minute more, he would have you bent over the bathroom counter, again.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting it,” Seungcheol’s voice carries from the closet. “I know you’re thinking about it.”

A slow smirk plays on your lips, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the vivid imagery playing in your head. Your body tingles with excitement and lust, thinking of the last time he suggested ‘just the tip.’ You hear shuffling in the closet, and you pretend to look busy, digging for something imaginary to deter Seungcheol on his conquest. Unfortunately for you, when you turn around, Seungcheol is shirtless, twirling the matching set of bra and panties you had set out for today. He has a mischievous glint in his eye that makes you gulp. God, you are in trouble.

“Are you looking for these?” Seungcheol asks, feigning innocence.

“Possibly…” your voice trails off, squinting your eyes at him. “Not sure how you ended up with them.”

“Maybe I wanted to help you get dressed, since you don’t want to be late and all.”

You scoff, moving towards him and attempting to grab your undergarments. “I’m a big girl,” you roll your eyes. “I can dress myself.”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol nods in agreement. “But wouldn’t it be so much quicker if you had help?”

You raise your brow at him, aware of the game he is trying to play. You watch him lower himself to his knees, lifting your leg and sliding your panties through it. His eyes are pleading, practically begging for what he wants. He licks his bottom lip at the sight of your naked center, a small sigh escaping his lips. Heat surges through you like a blue flame, your cunt undoubtedly wet and craving his tongue.

“Stop,” you murmur, locking your gaze with his. “You know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” Seungheol teases, kissing your inner thigh. “Tell me.”

“Don’t be coy with me,” you say with a resigned sigh. Looking at the time displayed on your digital clock, you gently grab his chin with your fingers. “Do it before I change my mind.”

“With pleasure, baby.”

His tongue graces your folds, tasting and playing with your clit in ways that make you gasp, clutching onto his hair. He doesn’t break his contact with you, carnal lust taking over him as he hums in your pussy. Pleasure courses through your body at the littlest movements, your hips slowly riding his tongue.

Seungcheol grips your thighs tighter, and he delves deeper, slurping and moaning sounds echoing in the room. The vibrations of his lips make you twitch, gripping his hair tighter. “Fuck, Cheol,” you grit your teeth, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.

“You look divine on my tongue, baby,” he murmurs, not letting up. “Give me more.”

With renewed vigor, Seungcheol slips two fingers inside of you, and you see heaven. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue flattening against your clit as he thrusts into you relentlessly. You’re coming undone, legs shaking as his name spills from your lips like a mantra. You make the mistake of looking down, his lips and cheeks covered with your nectar, and it sends you over the edge, screaming colorful obscenities as you fall into an abyss of pleasure.

Seungcheol is earnest, lapping up everything you offer him, gripping you tighter until your legs give out, your bed being your saving grace as you fall back. He chuckles, licking his lips incessantly as your wetness is spread all over his face. Mind fuzzy from the pleasure, you lie back on the bed, your sheets giving you a soft, cool reprieve to the hot sensation spreading all over your body.

“Are you okay, love?”

You make a minimal effort to lift yourself, studying your husband as he licks his lips, completely satisfied.

“I am… a puddle,” you burst into a giggle, in disbelief. “I can’t believe I let you rope me into that.”

“I can be creative,” Seungcheol gloats, running his fingers through his hair. The bed creaks as he climbs on, towering over you and kissing you deeply. You’re in a daze, his lips and your taste on his tongue putting you in a trance. You feel strung out, overflowing with a lust that only your husband can fix, and it doesn’t help that his tip is poking at your entrance through his boxers.

“So,” he clears his throat, drawing lines across your chest. “Did I earn it?”

You throw him a look before letting out a silvery laugh. Seungcheol, ever the pleaser since you first met him, will always make sure he does a good job. “I think you managed.”

Seungcheol looks at you, surprised, amusement etched on his face. “Managed?”

“Yes. Managed,” you tease him. “You could always be better.”

You roar into laughter as Seungcheol lifts your legs, shoving down his sweats and his large cock springing free. He taps it on your clit, oversensitivity and pleasure shooting through your thighs. Your nails dug into his arm in retaliation, a fire burning your belly as you crave to be fucked.

“Just the tip?” He asks, sliding slowly into your wetness. Your fingers cling to your sheets, your eyes rolling back as his girthy cock goes in inch by inch. You shouldn’t have teased him, you know this, because now he has you where he wants you, just as he planned.

“More than the tip,” you purr, accepting the inevitable. “All of it.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into you, fucking you without mercy. His strokes are long, deep, the kind that fill you up with joy and leave you with tears in your eyes. He pulls you closer, tasting your skin as your nails dig deeper into his back. Your walls spasm around him, loving every minute of the dick he is dropping off, for sure punishment for your teasing earlier.

“Fuck,” you rasp, feeling your peak reaching once more. “You feel so fucking good.”

You feel him grin against your neck, hitting you with a final stroke before lifting you and turning you over. He scurries to the baseboard, beckoning for him to come to him, wiggling his glistening cock. You crawl over to him happily, climbing over and sinking on him slowly, both groaning in unified satisfaction.

“Come here,” Seungcheol mutters, pulling you closer. “Give me your lips.”

His kiss is gratifying, your tongues interwining with another as you ride him, bouncing on his cock the way he likes it. Your pussy gushes as he fucks back, his fingers rubbing your clit vigorously like he owns it. Hit with a shock of pleasure that courses through your veins, you increase the pace and pull his hair, chasing your second orgasm. As if he read your mind, he pounds into you harder, taking your nipple and sucking on it fervently.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you whimper, everything turning white.”Don’t stop.”

“Never, baby,” he grunts. “Give it to me.”

It comes sharp and quick, your legs shuddering and your moans throaty and wet. You cling to Seungcheol as he talks you through it, whispering songs of praise and peppering you with kisses. His thrusts become rigid, signaling his own release as he lets out a loud guttural moan, your walls still pulsating as he empties himself into you. Relishing in each other, you still, your hearts beating as one, as he caresses your back. Love can’t describe what you feel.

“Are you still going to go in?” Seungcheol asks, drawing lines along your back. “Stay home and make it a 3-day weekend.”

Chuckling in the crook of his neck, you gaze at him, kissing him softly. “This was all a part of your plan, huh? Fuck me good and leave me too tired to move?”

Seungcheol peals into laughter, caressing your cheek. “And if it was?”

You lock eyes with him, a knowing look on your face as you lift off him slowly. “Do you remember the last time you begged for ‘just the tip?’” You point at the nightstand, your finger directed at a shiny baby monitor on display next to your wedding portrait.

“So?” Seungcheol shrugs with a smug look. “We can always have another.”

You shake your head with laughter, making your escape before you give him any ideas. A baby’s cry is heard through the monitor, and your heart pangs with guilt. The sunlight shines through the blinds, casting a soft glow that promises a peaceful day. You silently laugh, your shoulders shaking heavily as it dawns on you that at the end, Seungcheol is going to get what he wants.

“Babe? I’m staying home.”

you’re padding around his apartment in one of his shirts, your hair still damp from the shower, humming to yourself. he leans against the doorway, watching with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you know,” he says, “you’re getting awfully comfortable in my clothes.” you turn, raising a brow. “is that a problem?” he chuckles. “no. i’m just wondering when you’re moving in.” you blink up at him, half-smiling. “oh, is that an invitation?” he nods, stepping closer. “it’s more of an observation. because at this rate, half my wardrobe will already be in your closet.” you laugh, and he slips his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “i’m serious,” he whispers. “i like seeing you here. like this, like you belong.” you turn in his arms, hand resting against his chest. “you mean wearing your shirts and stealing your space?” he grins. “exactly that.” he presses a kiss to your hair and adds cheekily, “my space would feel so empty without you, little thief.”

↬ CHANGBIN

the first time he sees you in his shirt, he goes still. his world narrows to the sight of you standing by the window, sunlight catching in your hair, fabric draping loosely over your shoulders. his lips part as if to speak, but no words come. he just looks. you tease him, waving a hand in front of his face. “you okay?” he blinks out of his daze then smiles faintly. “you look…” he stops, shaking his head. “no. there isn’t a word for it.” he steps closer, reaching his hand out to touch you. his fingers brush the collar of the shirt, tracing where the fabric meets your skin. “it’s strange,” he says softly. “i wore this yesterday, and it was just a shirt. but on you…” you laugh, and he smiles at the sound. later, when you leave it folded by his bedside, he sits there for a long time staring at it—thinking of how it looked on you, of how something ordinary became extraordinary just because it touched you.

↬ HYUNJIN

he’s sitting on the couch reading when he hears you call his name. when he looks up, his book slips from his hand. you’re standing there in his shirt, sleeves rolled, collar slightly crooked. he stands without thinking, smoothing his hair, as if he needs to be composed for this moment. “you borrowed that?” he asks, and his tone is calm, but his eyes are bright with something softer. you nod, unsure if he likes it. he crosses the room slowly, stopping just short of you. “you’re too precious in it,” he says quietly, fingers brushing your wrist. he hesitates, then smiles faintly. “you know, i spend so much time trying to keep everything perfect. but you—” he gestures to you in the shirt, loose and unbuttoned at the cuffs, hair slightly messy—“you make everything perfect.” you laugh, flustered, and he looks down with a fond smile. “keep it,” he murmurs. “i’ll just have to buy more.” later, when you fall asleep still wearing it, he hugs you tightly to him, adoring your frame rising and falling in sweet, quiet perfection.

↬ JISUNG

he notices immediately. you’re curled up in his hoodie, the one you swore you didn’t take. he crosses his arms and pretends to be stern, though that familiar shit-eating grin already tugs at his mouth. “so that’s where it went,” he says. you look up, feigning innocence. “what?” he points at you dramatically. “my favorite hoodie. stolen in cold blood.” you giggle, but before you can speak, he strides forward, scoops you up, and spins you around. “you’re lucky you look this cute in it,” he says between huffs. your laughter fills the room, and when he sets you down on the couch, his forehead rests against yours. the teasing melts into something softer. “it’s kind of unfair,” he murmurs. “you make my clothes look better than i ever could.” you roll your eyes, but he keeps grinning. “fine, fine,” he says, “you win. but if you’re gonna steal my hoodie, i’m stealing you for the rest of the day.” he wraps his arms around you, tugging you closer. you sigh at him, “i never confirmed or denied, ji” you lean your forehead against his, pouting innocently, “but does this mean i get to keep it?” instead of responding, jisung’s hands start wandering over your shoulder, down to your waist. staring at you tenderly. when you think he’s about to kiss you, the soft traveling of his hands turns firm, sharp. the next thing you know you’re a ball of laughter and small, broken yelps as he violently tickles your sides. ribs shaking in your fit even after he stops, you sharply hit his side. the laugh still housed in your chest as you calm down. now, he’s so lucky he looks this cute, or he’d be in for some real trouble.

↬ FELIX

he comes home earlier than you expected and freezes at the doorway. you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone, one of his old t-shirts hanging loosely over you. his breath catches. it’s such a small thing, but it hits him like sunlight after rain. “that’s mine,” he says, laughing softly. you nod, teasing. “yeah. you left it in my drawer, remember?” he rubs the back of his neck and grins, flustered. “i didn’t think i’d ever see it on you.” he looks away, the sight feels too intimate to take in all at once. he’s smiling, but his hands twitch a little, uncertain what to do. you walk over and tug at the shirt’s hem. looking up at him, “you don’t like it?”, you ask teasingly. he meets your eyes, and whispers. “no. i love it. i just… don’t know what to do with how much i love it.” he laughs at himself, embarrassed, and you laugh too. he hides his red cheeks behind a hand but you can see just how flustered you’ve made him. stepping up to him, you gently move his hand away from his face, placing a swift kiss right where it had been, then placing his hand back. he turns to you grinning, “how are you so cute? i’m going to have a heart attack.”

↬ SEUNGMIN

you wear his hoodie one quiet morning, thinking nothing of it. he sees you and freezes. there’s something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. he steps closer, brushing a hand against your sleeve as if to prove you’re real. “hey, that’s not yours,” he says, and his voice is small. the obvious statement making you want to giggle at him. you smile. “it was cold.” he swallows hard. “you should keep it. please, i mean.” he laughs under his breath, but it sounds like a confession. “it’s stupid, but i need to see you wearing that all the time. you’re adorable. perfect, even.” you try to bite back the smile forming on your lips, “you’re right it’s stupid”. he scoffs and walks over to you, eyes never tearing from you clad in his clothes. even though you think he’s being cheesy, you take his hand, gently, and tell him you’ll wear it until it falls apart. that makes him smile so sweetly and gently. later, when he hugs you, he tugs at the fabric again, whispering, “don’t give it back yet. not ever, maybe.” he doesn’t mean the hoodie. he means this—the nearness, the safety, the warmth you both carry now that you’re together. you lean against him, “i wasn’t planning on it, stupid.” the sound of the two of you laughing fills the air.

↬ JEONGIN

in the library on an ordinary lunch break, he towered over you from behind, a hand hovering on your hip as he chuckled and looked down at you.

Jungwon wasn’t stupid, he could tell the pink hue on your cheeks wasn’t just from the summer heat.

“Shorty~” he cooed, grabbing the book from the shelf that you were struggling to get.

god.. these days, he was getting too cocky for his own good.

on the days where you were too spent from school, he’d walk you home with his hand around your back, bringing your arm to wrap around his shoulder.

even if he had been so tired from dance practise, he couldn’t just leave you be.

“ah.. you’re so heavy..” he groaned, setting your sleepy figure down on the bed.

your eyes, half open, found his figure hovering over yours as he laid you down. jungwon carefully pulled your covers over your figure, before he pulled back to leave your room.

until he felt a gentle grip, tugging on his wrist back. “Stay..”

he froze, standing above your bed for about 10 seconds. but before you knew it, you felt a dip by your mattress, as he sat in front of the laying figure.

jungwon looked away from you, and shyly muttered something that sounded like “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

or other times at lunch when you’d be a little messy. he knew your habit of eating and not noticing dressing or some sauce was left on your lip.

“Tsk.. you’re so clumsy.” He said, as he wipes off the sauce from your lip. this time, you’re the one who freezes in your spot.

and jungwon seems to realise the weight of his actions too, hand gently resting on your jaw as he wipes the sauce off your lip. his eyes widen, you turn red, and you both look away and pretend nothing happened.

you couldn’t look at him straight anymore, pretending like you weren’t affected by looking down and clearing your throat.

He talked to you about his dreams, you talked to him about your lack of. you came to every dance showcase, brought snacks after practise.

“A stage that big.. could you imagine? just to watch one person dance..” Jungwon muttered, sprawled out on your bed as you try to tune your new hand-me-down guitar your aunt gave you.

you looked up at him and chuckled, “Don’t forget about me when you’re on that stage.”

Jungwon scoffs, getting up as he watches your fingers press absentmindedly on the chords you’ve learnt this week.

“Don’t be stupid. first off, I could never get that famous. And second,” Jungwon trails off, hesitating to admit something. “Second.. how could I ever forget you?”

your gaze softens for a moment, tearing your eyes from the guitar to look up at him. it’s the first time in 16 years where the tension isn’t just snarky remarks and teasing, but it actually feels like something.

Jungwon purses his lips, dimples on full view as he looks away shyly. “I’ll look for you first in the audience. I promise.”

“Do I get free backstage passes?” You add, looking up at him with a grin that makes his stomach do this weird flip that’s been occurring too many times these days.

he rolls his eyes, but a soft smile rests on his face. “Cmon, you’re like.. vvvip.”

Sounds about right.

“Ok good. I like being vvvip.”

you know you fell for him that day. when he just stayed over, singing along to random songs you learnt. and you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered at you, the way he seemed eager to listen to the new songs you learnt.

he couldn’t go a day without talking to you.

Jungwon would wait under your house to walk to school together, fingers just barely touching. he got upset when you didn’t show up after his dance practices to pick him up, but got all giddy whenever you said you’d treat him to his favourite rice cakes as compensation.

he used to smile at you at the little hint of an inside joke, poke or gently nudge your leg under tables just to tease you.

There were even times where you let yourself be vulnerable to him. he was like.. your person?

“I don’t think I have a dream.” you blurted out tiredly, gazing over the city lights.

“That’s a blessing in disguise. People who have dreams are constantly worried about not achieving them.” Jungwon murmurs back after a pause, still looking at the clear night sky above him, lying down behind you.

“Easy for you to say. You’re the most driven person I know.” You scoff out, fingers fiddling with the ears of his stuffed animal on your lap, and turning your head back to look at him.

a chuckle escaped his lips, just thinking about his dream. jungwon was in love with dancing, and although a risky choice, that passion made you question whether you should be feeling the same thing. like you should have a dream you were that passionate about.

his eyes sparkled for gods sakes, and you didn’t know how he even managed to do that. how Jungwon’s eyes looked so doe-like and sparkly, brighter than all the city lights in front of you.

you sigh again and rest your back against the concrete, laying next to him. His eyes travel to your face, tilting his head to the side as his eyes soften, and his teasing smile fades away.

Maybe you weren’t joking this time.. but it was hard to focus on how sad you were when you looked so pretty being it.

Is it a surprise he thinks you’re beautiful? Maybe it was, because never in his life would he expect to fall for you, you were only his best friend. Lines shouldn’t be crossed.

but you can’t really control it, can you?

no matter how hard he tried to fight it, jungwon couldn’t stop the way his heart beat just a little faster when he saw you this close. He wonders if it’s even your beauty he stares at, or if it’s also the closeness.

The knowledge that nobody else has seen you like this, and nobody has seen him like this. The feeling of being in your own world.

“Jungwon..?” You finally whispered, tilting your head to your side.

“Mm..” You didn’t expect to catch him staring at you again. Usually, he’d look away before you caught on, or clear his throat and blink away. This time he didn’t.

He looks at you as if he doesn’t want to look at anything else. Not just your eyes, his gaze travels to your shoulders, your hands on his stuffed animal, your hair that drapes over his pillow, that he knows is going to smell like your shampoo now.

“..some dreams aren’t that clear. you’re just hearing people talk about their dream jobs.. or how rich they want to be.” he whispers.

you tear your eyes away from his, because his gaze feels too strong to hold.

“Isn’t that all there is to life? Work is life..” you chuckle dryly, looking back up at the sky.

Jungwon looks down for a second, and a silence envelopes the atmosphere. “You’re the last person I thought would say that.”

“I guess I’ve just become a bit negative.. I just feel like I’m lagging behind everyone.” you sigh again. but Jungwon doesn’t focus on how different you seem, his hand just finds yours.

your breath hitched, not even realising your anxious movements he stopped. his delicate fingers just gently on yours, like he’s trying to stop you from fidgeting. “You’re not lagging behind..”

“I’m envious of you.. I think I have too many dreams, and if I don’t meet them, I’d.. I think I’d crash out.” He laughs, lighthearted in his expression for the first time since the conversation.

Your eyes find his, but for the first time, he isn’t initiating eye contact, he doesn’t even look at you. Still, you see the faint blush on his cheeks, and his touch, with his gaze, lingers on your hand.

“But.. some dreams aren’t just materialistic. I.. I think..” he’s stalling, because he knows he’s not just comforting you. he’s confessing something he doesn’t even know. “well in my case.. my best dream is the one right in front of me.”

your breath hitches again at his words. you want to believe what you’re thinking, but you wonder if that’d even be possible.

You being his dream? Really? still, your hand reciprocates his touch, thumb just gently grazing the back of his hand.

you look down at your shared contact, and Jungwon finally looks up at you. he looks at you only when you look away, when you don’t notice. he notices your lashes low as you gaze at his hand, how your voice is soft as you hum back, your breath steadier.

his response is probably not the most practical, reasonable answer you wanted, but it puts you at ease for just a moment. and it makes the mood suddenly more intimate, although you both don’t do anything else.

you realised two things that day.

one, that your crush on Jungwon was getting more dangerous, the more you thought about the possibilities that he might like you too.

and two, that you found a dream. a real goal. it had something to do with Jungwon’s dream.

but sometimes, you find yourself not understanding him at all. and you didn’t want to believe it was true, but it became so when you both started senior year.

“Where’re we eating?” you hummed, hands in your pockets as you walked up to his desk.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow and looked back at you. “uh.. I brought lunch from home.” he said, sounding a little avoidant.

but you shrugged. “So? Just come with me to get my food.” you said nonchalantly, since he always came off campus with you to get lunch.

but this time, you thought you caught a grimacing expression on his face.

“I can’t.. I’m having lunch with the guys. I’ll just see you in class, alright? Bye..” he dismissed, sighing softly and walking away.

your eyebrows raised at his sudden mood, blinking in surprise.

Oh?

Maybe he just had a bad mood today..

or maybe you had done something?

you guessed it wasn’t the first option when you saw him laughing cheerfully with the new female transfer student.

“Jungwon!” You called out, after one night where you waited for him after dance practise.

He didn’t ask you to, he never had to. And you knew it would’ve been awkward considering he had been high-key ignoring you for the past few days. With his dance bag in hand, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Oh.” He sighs when he notices. And you swear you hear him utter “you again..” under his breath.”

“What? Don’t you wanna go.. get ice cream or something?” you say, acting like everything is ok.

but the knit in his eyebrows, the way he has to close his eyes and take a breath before speaking up, like he’s frustrated, sends you another message.

“Y/n. Stop this.. stop. Stop waiting on me.” Jungwon says, making you pause again. “We don’t have to be around each other all the time. I have my own life, ok? that doesn’t include you.” He stutters, but doesn’t stop.

“And it’s.. it’s embarrassing to have you fuss over me. It’s not like we’re dating..”

your blood ran cold. he was making it seem like you were the pushy one, like he didn’t embolden you to act on your feelings. it was as if he knew you like him, and was using your sensitivity to his advantage.

“But.. we don’t act like that.” You tried to argue, voice cracking slightly as tears pooled your eyes. you hated fighting with him, the one person you trusted most in the world. and you hated being the sensitive one, not the one to respond to him when he was being vulnerable.

“We do.. And it’s getting old. And frankly annoying.”

Jungwon runs a hand through his hair, sighing like.. almost like you’re a minor nuisance he needs to get over. You looked down, fighting back the tears that threatened to run down your cheeks.

Jungwon sighs, glancing down at your teary eyes. Something in his heart twists, but he pushes it aside. “Sorry, ok? Don’t cry.. just.. accept the fact that I don’t want to be as close to you as we were anymore, alright?”

And when he didn’t stop and drop his bag, or wrap his arms around you, whispering soft apologies, and instead started walking away? you realised that maybe he really didn’t feel the same.

ii heather - paper hearts - every breath you take

CHAEWON GIGGLED AND NUDGED YOUR ARM, showing her phone to you.

"You and jungwon?! You two were childhood friends?" She spoke, making your eyes widen at the kiddy photo on her phone.

"How'd you find out!?" you scoffed, trying to grab at her phone.

but she ignored your question, pointing and chuckling at the photo she caught from your mom’s Facebook.

"Why is he wearing a Cinderella dress? Awhh! did you dress him up~?" Chaewon raised her eyebrow and cooed again.

You rolled your eyes and went back to picking at your cold school lunch. "No.." you muttered.

Chaewon wasn’t as oblivious as Jungwon. she noticed your dismissive attitude.

she immediately cleared her throat and turned her phone off, as she started talking about something else. “So, you gonna come with me to Jaehyun’s party?”

But as she tried to distract you, she noticed how you looked up and your eyes almost sparkled.

Chaewon furrowed her eyebrows and looked in your direction, until she realised why you were staring.

The same guy she was talking about, Yang Jungwon..

you looked up and your gaze followed his movements as he walked to his table with his friends, laughing and talking.

You remember how you'd be the one making him laugh.

the one sitting next to him during lunch, the cause of his pretty smile — not his douchebag friends.

you'd be the one he looked at and listened to intently, with sparkly eyes when talking — not the girl under his arm who kept giggling and blushing.

he chuckled and leaned close to her, whispering something in her ear.

you didn’t care, obviously. why would you care? why would you care about what he said? why it made Sullyoon giggle and turn even more red. why she nudged his chest playfully. why jungwon grinned and giggled back.

why he bit his lip, his eyes gazed at her pretty, gorgeous smile.

the way he looked at you when he used to tease you.

Chaewon saw how you let out a little sigh and your eyes dropped. god, they were gross. your gaze turned bitter, picking at your food harshly.

she softly grabbed your shoulder and made you look away from him. "Hey.. Sunwoo and I are going to Jaehyun’s birthday next week, you should come too!" Chaewon said in a chipper tone.

You looked back at her and blinked, distracting yourself from him.

"Sure, I guess.." you chuckled dryly and looked down, continuing to pick at your food.

and It seemed that jungwon sensed the two laser beams from your eyes staring into the side of his head. as he looked up, tearing his gaze away from sullyoon and to you instead..

He gulped and scowled at you, why were you everywhere he went, even when he tried to keep running away?

you think you’re being cursed when you’re assigned cleaning-classroom duty with Jungwon of all people today.

how you had to stand and watch as he kissed Sullyoon’s cheek goodbye, reassuring her that he’d see her after school.

he doesn’t miss the scoff you let you as you put your bag down. he doesn’t look away from your form as you sigh through your nose, chin up in a walk past him that looks arrogant.

‘What’s your problem?’ Jungwon wants to say. ‘Jealous much? Thought I couldn’t find better?’

as you stand behind the teachers table, grabbing a pair of plastic gloves. Jungwon swears to stay silent, not wanting to open up Pandora’s box with you again.

“Yah.. Y/n!” Sunwoo says, outside the door of the classroom, sweat clinging to his forehead and panting, his school bag slung lazily over his shoulder.

“Sunwoo? What are you doing here?” you mutter, putting down the cleaning supplies in your hands as he walks up to you.

Jungwon can’t help but watch from the side, gaze lingering for a second too long.

“Here. You left these in my bag earlier.” Sunwoo takes a pack of some medicine, to which Jungwon knows is for your allergies.

because he used to take care of you, remind you to take medication.

you gasped, grabbing the pack immediately. “Oh my god, I love you. I thought I lost these—I was just going to waste some money and buy new ones..”

Sunwoo scoffs, flicking your forehead, to which you scowl and rub the spot to soothe the pain. “Idiot.. I’ll be waiting at the cafe alright? We can eat before we go.” He says, head slightly tilted.

Jungwon wonders how comfortable you two could’ve been, to the point where Sunwoo is allowed to fuss over you.

“Your treat?” you coo sweetly, and the tone just makes him feel sick, a bit heavy in his chest.

but Sunwoo chuckles and rolls his eyes. “When is it ever not..”

When Sunwoo leaves, Jungwon finally lets out the huffing exhale that he’s been holding, and it catches your attention.

you raise an eyebrow, “What’s your problem?” you saw the words he wanted to say bitterly earlier.

Jungwon raises his eyebrows, standing in front of you with the teachers desk between you two. “Nothing.” He says, almost emotionless.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” His jaw tightens, you catch that. but Jungwon doesn’t reply, he doesn’t want to risk saying something stupid.

the silence is loud, as you collect the random pieces of your trash your classmates dropped.

“How’s yoojung?” You spoke up about his sister, reminding him of how close you were to his family. And he cringed at the domestic knowledge.

“Fine.” he replies dryly.

The air grows awkward, as you two move around the classroom silently, picking up trash, sweeping the floor, cleaning the black boards. “..Guess we better hurry up then. Your date is waiting outside, isn’t he?” Jungwon says finally, as you both almost finish up cleaning.

You knit your brows, glancing down at the floor in confusion. “You mean Sunwoo?”

“Oh, is that his name?” Jungwon rolls his eyes, with a sarcastically sweet tone. and you can’t help but scoff, because Sunwoo and Jungwon have been in the same this whole year. Jungwon was doing the ultimate douchebag move, pretending he didn’t know.

“Are you serious? That’s your problem?”

“I have no problem.” he huffs.

“Your problem is me having a friend who’s a guy that isn’t you?” You say in an accusatory tone, almost like a statement rather than a question.

Jungwon feels his blood boil. with jealousy? with the rising tension of this argument? he doesn’t know. “My only problem is with you.” he scoffs, but shows a flash of regret immediately when he notices your confused and wilted expression.

your grip loosens on your bag strap, as your eyes soften a little. but they immediately harden again, eyebrows knitted in frustration.

but instead of questioning him, you grab your bag again, and head out the door. you don’t want to unpack this baggage anymore.

Jungwon’s expression stiffens, holding his bag strap in the middle of the classroom like an idiot. Of course you’re running again. You’re always leaving, and he’s somehow always there to see you leaving him.

This time, you’re not alone. Outside, it’s Sunwoo’s car that you’re getting into. And Jungwon’s eyes can’t seem to look away, even when his girlfriend enters the classroom all chipper.

iii. so far away - we can’t be friends - the one that got away

JAEHYUNS HOUSE WAS A MESS, as the fresh air from outside was immediately drowned out by the suffocating atmosphere, students dancing, singing out nostalgic songs, a few bottles popped.

“Ouf- c’mere..” sunwoo says, taking off his jacket while grabbing onto your hand. both of your eyes narrow as you escape the strangling party air, while Chaewon blends in like it’s her second home.

with a sigh, you both sit down at the kitchen counter, next to a few other people you don’t know. you know enough to recognise they’re not apart of your school, probably college students.

knowing Myung Jaehyun and his crazy social circle, he probably knew these bad-influencing kids doing drugs in the corner or taking more beer cans than they needed out of the fridge.

Two of the said college girls, whom you recognise from another party years ago, approach you both, passing you two shot glasses like it’s nothing.

You scoffed at the speed of the first alcoholic offer, while Sunwoo grabs the cup fast as he can.

suddenly, ningning’s eyes brighten up at the door. “Oh, sullyoon!” ningning exclaims, waving her hand to call her over.

The name she calls out sends a chill down your spine. because you know who she came with. and sure enough, there she is, with Jungwon’s arm around her.

funnily enough, she’s wearing the same jacket you got for him for his 15th birthday. (where you begged for your mom to pay for, because you knew how much he wanted it)

Sunwoo noticed immediately. His wide eyes turned low, as he followed your gaze to the couple arriving to the house.

Jungwon was smiling and laughing with his friends. Holding her hand like it belonged there. was this really the same guy that made your chest feel like it was too heavy to stand up right now? to make you feel so hollow inside?

you hate how your eyes burn, but can’t pull away from the sight of his arm around her, how he introduces her to all his friends, and how they all compliment her.

because she was so fucking perfect, wasn’t she? so perfect that jungwon risked your friendship over her.

in this life, she was the one that got him. or rather, he was the one that chose her. and she didn’t even have to try. because jungwon wanted to kiss her, to dote on her and dance with her, show her off to all his friends.

and he still got shy, all red and giggly whenever someone teased him about his new girlfriend, like the old Jungwon.

but in another life? maybe you could be his girl. He’d actually choose you. maybe jungwon wouldn’t be ashamed of you.

he wouldn’t have to be the one that got away.

the bitter taste of the shot of whatever burns your throat, as you gulp it down without even thinking. something to numb that hollow pain.

Everyone sings along to So Far Away over the speakers, and it makes your ears cringe the way everyone is trying to sing along to jungkook’s voice. but it all faded away when your eyes trail to Jungwon’s pretty smile again. the way his eyes crinkled. how endearing he looked.

the blend of sharp raps and the male humming adlibs in the background make you feel lost, like Jungwon is this being that’s just unreachable.

Everything feels overstimulating. you can’t even focus, and sunwoo hates that you can’t even hum along to the music. from you yapping about how you want suga to rap right by your ear, to not being able to enjoy the song.

“Come on, lightweight.” He sighs, trying to squeeze in some humour to your already weakening mind.

It’s nearing midnight, the party’s dwindled down from hours before when you first came.

Somehow, you find yourself sitting between Sunwoo and Chaewon in a circle of people from your school, including the infuriating couple in front of you.

they didn’t really do much to be annoying, not too much with the pda or clinginess. but it was almost like they were trying to piss you off.

like there was no way he was whispering something in her ear, even nibbling a little, making her giggle and push him away, while he pulled back, not to just piss you off, right?

you think you’re delusional, but the way he glances at you as he smirks and pulls away.. that’s got to be intentional.

look what I’m doing without you, it’s like he’s saying. even though you don’t know why you did wrong.

An innocent game of truth or drink, Jaehyun suggested.

After a few drinks, a few spilled secrets, (and a few glares to the boy in front of you) you’re leaning against Sunwoo’s shoulder. a little tipsy, a little droopy. and a lot emotional.

it got annoying to see Jungwon’s hands interlacing Sullyoon’s. the way everyone immediately accepted her and laughs at her jokes, or called her cute, to which Jungwon proudly smiled.

his friends never liked you much. it seems that it wasn’t only him that who found a replacement for you.

You didn’t focus a lot much on what was happening in the room. Chaewon kissed a random girl as part of a dare, another guy took his first ever shot, a girl was on her phone, not socialising and probably wanting to leave.

“Alright, here’s a deep one. When was the last time you hurt, or got hurt by someone you really cared about?” Someone asks, a truth or drink question directed at jungwon.

he stiffens a little

and you think you’re going crazy when you see him glancing at you.

“Last time I got hurt? Hm..” he pretends to think. “I guess when my ex-best friend and I started to drift apart..” he says with a casual expression, like it’s a thing of the past.

and you notice how everyone looks impressed at how ‘bravely healed’ he was, and all it does is make you want to throw up.

“I had to cut them off. They got a bit too.. hm- obsessive and clingy?”

ok, now you really wanted to throw up.

he lets out a little scoff, a faint smirk on his lips. and you swear he looks at you again. “But I guess I realised I never cared about that person anyway. I never will.”

the room goes silent for a moment, before some people coo in admiration.

“That’s right.. people like that don’t deserve attention anyway.” Jaehyun speaks up, backing up Jungwon.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo pauses in discomfort.. Jake and sunghoon look around, laughing and clearing their throats nervously.

Chaewon joins in on the majority reaction of admiration, but furrows her eyebrows when she tries to put two and two together.

“You’re so cool, jungwon~” another guy says, patting his back, as he goes on a side rant about his obsessive ex girlfriend, while Jungwon smirks with a little chuckle.

but you couldn’t even look at him without hearing the venom laced in his tone again.

never cared about you. never would.

18 years of friendship, it never mattered to him.

you can’t help but wonder what you did to make him so bitter? to despise you the way he did.

to the point where Sullyoon was in your position, grazing his thigh and smiling at him, both out of comfort and like she was proud of him.

to the point where he was saying he never cared about you.

“Sorry.. where’s the bathroom?” you whispered, awkwardly excusing yourself from the group and clutching your stomach, acting like you had a stomach issue.

Jungwon’s eyes follow your figure. for a second, a hint of guilt flashes through his eyes. maybe he took it too far.

but that can’t erase the pain he felt from you all those months before. This was your fault, not his. he shouldn’t be feeling care for you the way he did anymore.

jungwon doesn’t allow his heart to feel heavy, or the sweat to cling onto his forehead. he doesn’t even allow himself to think of how he used to smile with you, or ruffle your hair and wipe your tears.

when you reach an empty space, you shakily try to breathe in, fanning yourself to calm down.

Chaewon comes following you, without a word as she leaves the group.

“Hey.. what’s wrong?” you can hear her slurred voice, obviously intoxicated, but the sincerity is clear.

you look back at her, putting on a smile, as you quickly cover your teary eyes. but you couldn’t hide the involuntary sniffle.

“Oh, nothing. I just.. little stomachache.”

Chaewon furrows her brows, hearing your voice crack. “Y/n?” She gasps when she sees your red eyes, immediately wiping away the tears that fall.

she doesn’t say anything. she just wraps her arms around your shoulders, brushing your hair gently. you don’t say anything either.

It feels too awkward to admit why you feel this way. you’ve only told Sunwoo over a drunken night anyway.

“You’ve got to tell me why you’re crying tomorrow. I’m too drunk to remember anything right now.” Chaewon says, making you laugh at the sudden admission.

pulling back, you nod. “Mhm.. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I didn’t know.. you went through that..” Sullyoon says back in the group, an innocent smile on her face as she rubs the back of his hand with her thumb.

it snaps Jungwon out of his trance, as he chuckles, acting all high and mighty.

Of course she doesn’t know. She didn’t know his past, she didn’t know his future. Sullyoon was only there for the present. maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt, the only had been dating for a month.

you knew him since diapers, and what he dreamed of doing till he grew too old to walk. you were there for his and he thought you’d be there for his future. maybe the main character for it.

but you didn’t know the present, what kind of person he was now.

and Jungwon liked that. he didn’t want you knowing him anymore.

he didn’t want Sullyoon knowing what you did either. he didn’t want her to know about his past with you, she didn’t have to know about his regrets. but the thought of her knowing about his future, his dreams of dancing, the thought loomed over his head.

Jungwon tried to ignore the holes Sunwoo is glaring into his head right now, as he smirked hesitantly and nodded, his grip loosening on Sullyoon’s hand.

iv. sweet - apocalypse - better for you

THE NEXT DAY PASSES LIKE A BLUR. Jaehyun’s sister offered you a ride home, after you managed to escape from that stupid game secretly from the back exit.

Sunwoo had been sending you text after text, not asking if you were ok. He already knew the answer to that one.

‘I’ll stop by tomorrow morning with your favourite snacks, ok? Chaewon will come too. Don’t feel bad over what that jerk said, you don’t need him to care about you anyway.’

you wake up to a stream of reassuring messages, talking shit about Jungwon, while talking about you like you’re the only girl in the world.

but you couldn’t stop watching the videos, all the selfies and photos you took with jungwon, reminiscing over how sweet he was with you.

the photo of the flowers he got you when you cried over getting stood up on your first date.

the video of him with a dog filter on, just a short clip of him and his friend, an update he sent you randomly with the text, ‘I’m at karaoke right now~’

(you didn’t even ask what he was doing, but he for some reason, liked to pull on your heart strings an send you random updates throughout the day)

your old text messages, videos he recorded of you doing silly things with his cackling laughter in the background.

Although your head is throbbing, your heart feels ache worse than you ever have. you’re conscious enough to know what you’re doing, just breaking yourself down more.

when they arrive at your house, Chaewon beelines for your bed, sunglasses perched on her nose to cover how hungover she is. She makes a quick apology, saying she really cares for you, but needs to lay down.

“So.. tell me what happened. Because why does Sunwoo know and I don’t??” Chaewon pouts, reaching up to cup your cheek and slapping it affectionately. You roll your eyes, but her antics make you laugh as you push her hand away, the mattress dipping below you when you sit down next to her.

Chaewon reacts at every single little detail as you explain. From the cute stories you had with Jungwon as kids, to how your relationship was about to blossom into a childhood friend's romance story, only for him to stab you in the heart and suddenly give you the cold shoulder.

“No fucking way.. I could’ve sworn he had feelings for you.” Chaewon murmured, her head on your lap now. “That’s why the whole school was shocked when he started getting close to Sullyoon.”

and your stomach stirs again.

all you can do is gulp down, taking a breath before you say something stupid.

“That fucker doesn’t deserve you anyway.” Sunwoo says bitterly, smacking his lips like a nagging parent. “Never trusted him.”

“But why would he do that? It’s kind of stupid, isn’t it? He’s got to have a reason.” Chaewon speaks up again.

but you don’t want to look back anymore. you want to say, ‘that’s what I’m saying!’ but you feel like the energy has been zapped out of you. “I don’t know..”

while Sunwoo, he doesn’t want to indulge into the past. He’s dealt with you going through all the stages of grief except acceptance.

“Stop pouting.. Do you know how many times I struggle not to laugh when you cry?” Sunwoo says, before getting interrupted with a pillow hurled to his face.

At least that day you didn’t cry like you thought you would. Chaewon and Sunwoo were entertaining, and you were glad for that, because it distracted you from your ‘the one that got away’ heart break.

you didn’t even go on your secret account to stalk Jungwon’s profile. (because of course, he blocked you.)

they sang songs with you, the new ones you learnt on your guitar, like the way Jungwon used to do, except your heart wasn’t fluttering with every glance or touch.

You laughed more than you thought you would, singing nostalgic songs, with Sunwoo and Chaewon fighting over whose elaborate performance was more dramatic and worthy to go on X Factor.

You all sang along to Try Again too many times to count, as you strummed dramatically, driven by laughter and emotion. Chaewon and Sunwoo didn’t really match d.ear or jaehyun’s level of vocals, but the smile was engraved on your face at this point from smiling.

you were laughing, actually laughing, watching Sunwoo and Chaewon sing their hearts out, it made everything different. the tears forming in your eyes weren’t from missing Jungwon, but from laughter, real happiness.

They come to your house like a ritual now. You tried to ignore Jungwon the best you could at school, avoiding him or Sullyoon, or even Jake or Sunghoon like the plague. you don’t need to see Jungwon and Sullyoon all over each other, because apparently their honeymoon phase was still going strong.

“Oh? What’s this little thing~?” Chaewon coos, taking out a piece of paper with some writing. You barely pay attention to her, tuning your guitar.

That is until.. she starts reading it out.

“All of the city lights, never shine as bright as your eyes~” your eyes widen immediately, as you drop your guitar back to your mattress and reach for the sheet of lyrics. “Yah- Stop!”

Sunwoo looks up at you two, pulling up his phone to record the moment with a little chuckle.

Chae giggles, running around your little room, jumping up on your bed to continue reading the lyrics. “Don’t wanna leave you anymore! I’m tired of loving from afar- and.. never being where you are?” she trails off.. realising what you’re talking about.

“Stop looking at him like that.” Chaewon chuckles, nudging your side as you wait for Jungwon, who’s at the lunch line, bangs brushed just above his eyes, a bit tousled and messy.

his blazer makes his shoulders look a bit broader and more intimidating, but his smile making him look too adorable not to stare.

Oh yeah, and Jake’s next to him.

“Like what..”

“Like you want to run over there and kiss the living shit out of him.”

you roll your eyes. Although you’re still struggling to hide your growing feelings, you’re getting better at pretending when you’ve gotten caught. “Your brain works really weirdly..”

“Ok romeo.. loving from afar? You know that never works right..” Chaewon sounds amused, she’s smirking.

“Yeah, and that’s not what this is.”

“Hey! I got you your juice~” Jungwon coos, sitting next to you like he belongs there.

“Oh! Thank you..” you trail off, eyes and voice immediately softening by default.

Chaewon scoffs, meanwhile Jake munched on his own meal like it was nobody’s business, not a juice box or even a ‘hello’ for her in sight.

maybe you were right, she thinks. you’re not loving from afar. You both were doing it right in front of each other, loving each other so obviously, but too blind to notice.

Sunwoo stops recording, pausing in confusion, meanwhile she continues reading. But you quickly snatch the piece of paper from her. “What?” Sunwoo whines.

A scoff escapes Chaewon’s lips, “Y/n!”

“It’s nothing! It’s just some.. random lyrics I wrote down.” you crumple up the paper, but she reaches her arms out, trying to grab it. “Wow, I’m being left out again? Fake fri—” Sunwoo deadpans.

“She wrote a song about Jungwon!”

“No I didn’t!” your argument gets you a bit distracted, and Chaewon manages to grab the lyric scrap.

“Ok— ‘so many things I’d rather hear than fight, so for now it’s goodbye’? ‘You know the truth better than anyone else, You claim you don’t care, when I need you the most’? Is that not supposed to be about Jungwon!?”

you roll your eyes, burying your head in your hands when you hear your lyrics out loud for real. Sunwoo throws his phone down to the bed as he sits next to Chaewon, reading the lyrics.

“I thought we were healing you! Forgetting about that jerk!” Chaewon says. “Damn, these are pretty good..” Sunwoo seems to ignore her words, to which she smacks his arm in retaliation.

you sigh and roll your eyes, falling back to the bed. “I wrote the latest lyric like 2 weeks ago after the party. It's old news. It’s basically trash..”

“Oh yeah? Then why is it not in the trash? Why is it sitting out here? Waiting to be sung?” Chaewon coos.

Yeah, why wasn’t it in the trash? It should have been. You shouldn’t have been singing along to it last night, writing and erasing more lyrics. “Y/n, i am throwing this—” Chae sighs, shaking her head, as she stands up.

But Sunwoo is quick to grab it. “Wait, hold on.. Y/n this is actually good—how come you’ve never shown us your songwriting?” Sunwoo looks down at you, the corners of his lips rising a little.

“It was.. it’s just a little project, it’s not something special.” you stutter, a bit surprised and embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Chaewon scoffs at Sunwoo’s compliments. “Yeah, and I don’t want to hear an emotional song about a back-stabbing bastard.”

you can’t hide a smirk at her words, but Sunwoo ignores it, pulling your arms to sit you up. “Come on! Play it for us!”

“No, throw it away for us!” Chaewon immediately interrupted, making Sunwoo roll his eyes again. “Y/n, forget about Jungwon. This is great stuff, really. And you’ve got a great voice!”

great stuff was a stretch. maybe it was just Sunwoo sensing your overwhelming emotion in the lyrics. Chaewon sighs, grabbing her jacket and keys. “Oh god.. I have to go to my tutor but Y/n? Forget that song! Trust me, throwing those lyrics will be worth it.”

you think she’s right, you want her to be right. because you really want to put these lyrics from months ago past you.

when she finally leaves, Sunwoo pats the space on the bed in front of him, while he sits on your desk chair. “Come on, just play once?”

you don’t even know what you want. you gaze at the sheet again, a crumpled piece of paper with few words scribbled with pencil, over erased markings of lyrics you thought didn’t sound right. (or expressed your story right)

You had sung this song almost every other night. Why? because it was set in one of those ‘in another life’ scenarios.

The song — without a title yet — talked about a couple, a real couple, who had separated, speaking from the point of view of the partner who still yearned for their lover. but in this song, it seemed like you were singing to someone who wanted you back, like you were the one that left and were coming back.

It didn’t feel genuine to sing this to a real audience. It was more like a private thing you had in your own world. “It’s not even finished yet..” you murmured, pouting just a little as you stare at your fidgeting fingers. You remembered how Jungwon would place his hand over them, calming you down.

“Then just a verse. Or the chorus? any part that’s done. C’mon, I’ll even make a beat.” His teeth caged his bottom lip, patting his lap like a drum while beatboxing (and failing to do so).

you chuckle at his attempt to get you to sing, but your hands find your guitar despite your hesitance, already putting on the capo on the fretboard.

Sunwoo smiled teasingly at first, but his voice softens when you sing the bridge.

As much as he hates Jungwon, he’s glad that that jerk has done something good in sparking your creativity.

you mean it when you sing about how Jungwon’s eyes were brighter than all the city lights. About how you’d trade everything for a minute more to spend with him, to hear him talk to you like you were the only ones in the world again.

how you don’t want to get into any car that drives you away from him, and how he doesn’t want you going away either.

that was the part that was fake, how he wanted you with him.

how could he want you with him when he claimed to never even care about you?

“You actually sound good this time, Y/n, why do you sound like ass at karaoke?” Sunwoo huffs, making you roll your eyes, but you’re too bashful to get mad right now.

the vulnerability of sharing one of your random songs was scary, it was like you were scared of being taken seriously.

“Thanks..” you mutter under your breath, but in a dismissive tone. “Y/n, I’m serious! You know about the annual showcase right?”

The annual showcase, of course you knew. Jungwon was always the star. Your school would sign up all the students with talents, group performances from the junior dance team, performances from the orchestra and choir, magic acts and a few others.

But since the first year jungwon joined 3 years ago, he was the one act everyone looked forward to.

Everyone wanted to see what new piece he’d perform, they brought tissues to wipe their tears at the end of each dance. and you? you were in the crowd, holding up your camera like a proud parent. (while his real parents, sat right next to you, barely understanding what story he was trying to portray with ‘flailing around the stage’ as they’d call it)

You stayed in the practice room almost every day preparing for the show, watching as he choreographed something new, and then performed the same piece over and over again till he got it right. But you never got tired, the way his body moved was like art.

even after the performance, when students came up to him with flowers or gifts or compliments, his eyes would find yours. After his perfect showcases, he’d run into your arms, sweaty and panting, but you didn’t care enough to push him back.

So yeah, you knew a thing or two about the annual showcase.

“You could totally apply!” Sunwoo’s tone is all chipper and bright, but your expression couldn’t be farther from his. “Are you crazy? With this.. excuse of a song? I’m not even a trained singer! Or a performer! I can’t even go on stage for award ceremonies, what makes you think I can perform in front of the whole school and their moms?!”

Sunwoo puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you from rambling. “Y/n, relax. Nobody’s forcing you to join.”

You blink rapidly, looking down at your gibberish lyrics again. As if these random words would be any good to perform in front of an entire audience. As if you’d be any good.

“The council is looking for more talents, because all the seniors last year are gone. Why don’t you just.. start practising? Finish the lyrics, and.. if you feel up for it, I could maybe put your name on the list..?” Sunwoo smiled, and you already feel the embarrassment hit you in the face.

Sure, you liked watching the seniors perform back then, but yourself singing? In front of the whole student body, who probably knew you as the girl who wasn’t cool enough for Jungwon to hang out with anymore?

Especially when Jungwon was definitely going to perform too? He'd probably laugh and make fun of you to his friends if he saw your name on the list of talents. And he’d know the song was about him, who else had you feeling like that? The whole school would probably know.

there was no way you’d risk public humiliation for a stupid song about a stupid boy who broke your heart.

but then again.. wouldn’t performing it be like some kind of closure? you look down, awkwardly taking off the capo.

“I’ll think about it.” you muttered.

you couldn’t outright refuse. not just yet. because the thought of you performing (and maybe Jungwon seeing you on stage) excited you a little.

v. monster - somewhere only we know - bills

AFTER THE PARTY, Jungwon barely saw you at school.

Before? He saw you everywhere. You were in the same classes, you’d sit at lunch tables near his, even on the street in the neighbourhood. It was like you were clinging on, trying to see him even though the air was uncomfortable and tension-filled. While he pretended not to notice, making you feel like a complete stranger.

“She’s staring at you again..” Jay whispered with a little teasing chuckle, as they worked on a group project in the classroom, while you were sitting two rows behind. Jungwon would sigh, keeping his head faced away.

He’d complain about it before. It got annoying, the way you looked at him like he was still a part of your life.

It wasn’t like you completely disappeared, you were still in his classes, still at the school hallways, still around the neighbourhood. But you seemed.. different?

He never caught you staring anymore, he never caught your gaze from the corner of his eye anymore. Sometimes he’d catch you leaving the music room, guitar on your back as you left your conversation and waved goodbye to the music teacher or student council members. You weren’t even in the council, what would make you want to talk to them?

“Jungwon~!” the feminine voice flutters from the doorway, as Jungwon and the boys turn their heads to find Sullyoon coming up to them.

He clears his throat immediately, putting on a tight smile. She holds onto his hand as she sits on the chair next to him like she belongs, while his arm effortlessly drapes across her shoulders.

They engage in conversation like it’s easy, and Sullyoon fails to notice how red Jungwon is, and how he seems to stutter over his words a bit more.

Right behind her when she walked in, you entered the room, bee-lining to Sunwoo’s desk, who’s leaning against it standing, with Chaewon occupying his seat.

“Don’t look back.” Sunwoo whispers, leaning a little too close with his teeth clenched, as he spared a glance to the staring boy behind you.

just like any other, you don’t follow his orders and let your head follow the direction of his eyes. For some reason, you catch Jungwon’s gaze, who looks away quickly, as if he never landed his eyes on you. His thumb gently fidgets with his bottom lip, as if he’s trying to appear relaxed, but the tension is obvious.

“Are you incapable of listening to me?” Sunwoo murmurs, pinching your side.

Jungwon actually sees you for the first time in the activity rooms after school. Not just you ignoring him or passing by in the halls.

He had booked Studio A to practise his performance for the showcase, but so far? No creative luck.

you were always the one to pick out the music, he claimed you had a natural ear for the right songs he could dance to. So without that tool, he was one task short of finishing his piece.

The school showcase was in two months, he had time, at least that’s what he told himself.

But it was hard when this time, he’d be doing this all by himself. Jake and Sunghoon cared, but they didn’t use all their time and energy to entirely focus on encouraging Jungwon’s performance.

Sullyoon was there for him, but she had her own thing. Some art project for her final or something, he couldn’t really remember.

Back then? You’d stay in his practise room, in awe of his dancing while simultaneously reminding him of little things to make him look better.

This time, he didn’t have a second eye to watch over him. To point out what to correct when he didn’t notice, to tell him he was doing great when he kept beating himself up. Especially the latter half.

Jungwon knew he was hard on himself sometimes, but he was such a perfectionist that he didn’t care for it. He needed something, some kind of guilty pleasure or reminder that he was already doing good.

but after an hour of trying out moves he could use in the show, he stands in front of the mirror, hands on the barre as he looks at himself — sweaty, panting, lost.

He looks like he’s put in so much effort, physically, he’s done. but what he’d achieved so far in this session were a few empty dance moves with no real connection. He didn’t even have a song, for gods sakes.

What if he trips up on stage? Not the accidental, injury-type falls, but the ones where he forgets his piece or doesn’t do good enough to connect to the audience like he’s done last year, or the years prior to that.

What if he doesn’t meet up to the school’s expectation? This showcase made him practically highschool royalty, everyone and their mothers came to watch. Of course, for the other students’ performances as well, but the reactions he received? Basically overshadowed everyone else.

This was his last year. He even heard there’d be agents in the audience this time. Even ones from SM, and YGX not just the local dance studios.

Preparing for the showcase this time didn’t feel as effortless and fun anymore. No one to make him feel better when he forgot a move, or to make him laugh and distract him from the pressure.

screw it — why was he even missing you? he made a point in cutting you off, you weren’t good for him anymore.

not after what you did.

he walks out into the cold hallways of the school building, sweat still gleaming from his forehead and shirt clinging onto his frame. But his steps come to a halt when he remembers he left his bag in the music room.

He expects the lights to be off, as he casually strolls through the halls, lips puckered as he hums along to a random beat. When he gets there, what he doesn’t expect is you to be walking across the music room to her guitar, humming a melody.

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, as he finds himself frozen, watching your movements from the slit of the door.

You walk to the stool again where your guitar sits, taking off your AirPod and pausing the song on your phone. The melody stays in your head, as you mindlessly sing along, letting the lyrics linger to your lips.

Jungwon’s ears perk. Somehow, he hears your quiet, casual singing, and the lyrics, the melody, it all sounds perfect — perfect for the showcase.

That was pretty ironic.. the one year he cuts you off, you’re still the one who knows his music better than anyone else.

as he’s about to walk in, he suddenly gets interrupted by the rhythmic strumming of your guitar, and soft hums again that follow. Each time you sing, you’re stopping to review, and write a new lyric. He’s never even heard this song before, were you actually serious about this whole songwriting thing?

Jungwon didn't want to remember it, but seeing you like this reminds him of the times he’d stay at your house, while you sang random songs you learnt on the guitar for fun.

maybe he’s in some kind of trance, not realising how much he’s leaning against the door. because a second later, in the middle of you practising one verse, sounds of metal clanging and wood falling fill the quiet room.

“Shit-” Jungwon’s eyes widen, as he hurriedly enters the studio to pick it up, not bothering to apologise. you quickly make your way towards him, picking up the fallen cymbals and guitar stands.

You don’t look at him again, and it annoys him. Not how you ignore him, but how he’s looking at you, as if he’s trying to get you to notice him. Seeing you this close, he gets a view of all the details he had slowly forgotten about since the last time before he cut you off. The way your eyebrows slightly crease, lips pursed awkwardly, as your eyes and focus stayed glued onto picking up the equipment.

(There’s a reason you don’t look up at him, you physically can’t. because you don’t know what stupid thing you’ll do or say if you do turn your head up)

“..What are you doing here?” you ask, still looking down at the instruments, luckily, no damage.

Jungwon clears his throat, looking away before his voice turns high-pitched. “My gym bag. Uh.. I left it here.” you hate how awkward he sounds.

Your eyes follow his figure as he walks past you, but you turn back around to face your back towards him, pretending to fix the instruments he knocked over.

“Um.. what was that song you were singing..? earlier when.. before whatever you played on the guitar.” He asks awkwardly, like it’s taking all the pride in him, gulping it down, to ask this.

Whatever. The song meant for him on the guitar was just whatever.

“Earlier? Were you watching me?”

Jungwon feels his blood boil again, as he takes in a deep, shaky breath, before rolling his eyes. “Forget it.” He says, walking quickly past. This wasn’t worth getting his pride crushed.

“Yah—relax.” You scoff, nudging his shoulder, as Jungwon almost pushed past you to go through the door. The sudden contact makes him move back, avoiding your physicality.

and his move makes you put your hand down awkwardly, blinking and looking away. “Its.. ‘Monster’ by Shawn Mendes and Justin Bieber.” you read from your phone, showing the screen back to jungwon.

he doesn’t lean in to see the screen, even if he can’t really see it that clearly. It's like he doesn’t even want to step in your vicinity.

“Oh. Thanks.”

you almost want to scoff at his dryness, but you offer a tight-lipped smile, looking away awkwardly.

he walks past, not even sparing you a glance, his chin held up high with an arrogance to his expression you want to slap off.

you close your eyes again, taking a deep inhale to stop yourself from cursing him out as the door shuts. When you go back to your seat, you only see your lyric sheet and pencil there. Which is weird because, you could’ve sworn you had the poster to the showcase right there.

Jungwon stares at the poster in his hands as he steps outside, a sharp glare in his eyes before crumpling it in his fist.

He knows he shouldn’t have stolen from you, but he couldn’t care less.

Because he still recalls the sight he caught when he was grabbing his PE clothes earlier, on a pin board in the back of the music room,

Talent Show Applicants

..

2. Yang Jungwon

..

7. L/n Y/n

your name, right there, staring at him like a challenge. the showcase that was practically all about him, that was his turf, his stage.

and he had to share it with you. He couldn't have that happen, not when he was trying to erase you from his life. and this would be his last straw, he swears on that.

❪ OO1 TAGLIST ❫ OPEN! fill in this google form, send an ask or comment on this post to be added! 🐇🪽 @sunsunl0ver @gardenwons @suneng @alisonyus @jiiyen @sumzysworld @secretlyapartofthisfandom @starbyeol9014 @t1iqaa @rikidaze idontrleeknow @blvengene @sammie217 @cupiddolle @doublebunv lovewonsall @nonononranghaee @finnbbl @isoobie jeankirsteinsbeard @haestuffs @lynnlynnyuuashh @engene12z 4ngelized @jellyluv4eva @human1errorth1ngs @choppedballoondetective @ikeuwon @cokewithcameron

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“alright everyone! that's a wrap!” the dance instructor clapped their hands. the boys sank down onto the wood flooring, sweaty and exhausted from the intense practice session

water bottle caps pop open. the sounds of gasping breaths and “ah!” surround the dance room as the boys gulp down their waters, wiping the sweat off their brows with their shirts or towels

comeback season is just around the corner, which means lots and lots of preparation, which also means, felix is spending more and more time away from you.

felix hates it; being away from you for so long in terms of his time being so short and limited, that video calls are rare and late replies are the new norm. it helps that you're understanding, however, the past week he's been feeling very agitated and short tempered. 

“are you pent up, lix?” changbin joked, leaning against the floor to ceiling mirrors as he watches felix gulp water down to quench his thirst, brows furrowed together in the middle.

felix doesn't answer, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking.

pent up? him? there’s no way, right? he certainly doesn't feel pent up. a little agitated and short tempered, sure, but he put that down to being overworked and preparing for the comeback.

“funny.” he finally answers with a sigh and a tone that borders on sarcasm. changbin looks at chan who shrugs.

later that evening, felix is back at home, freshly showered. water droplets drip from the ends of his hair and down his toned body, disappearing under the fabric of the thick, white towel that’s around his waist. he looks at the clock and groans to himself before looking at his phone.

a new message of you, 4 hours ago. something heavy drops into his stomach. he feels bad, guilty, that he can't be consistent right now. he knows you're understanding and, for some reason, that doesn't make him feel any better.

felix throws his phone on the bed. it lands with a soft thump and a small bounce. he drops his towel, lets it pool at the ankles before stepping out and grabbing a clean pain of black boxer shorts. he slides the fabric up his legs and snaps the band against his hips.

he runs his fingers through his hair slowly, hangs the towel up to dry before sitting on the bed, awaiting for your message to tell him that you're ready.

his phone pings after five minutes and he instantly calls you. he waits, listens to one, then two, then three rings before the line connects 

“felix!” your voice, cheerful as ever, tickles his ear. he grits his jaw slightly. 

“hi, my sweet angel!” felix hums softly down the receiver. his heart swells when you giggle. he can practically see the blush on your cheeks. “no face time?” he asks softly.

“ah!” you hum, resting your phone between your ear and shoulder, “i’m a little busy right now. i’m getting things in order for tomorrow, so i can't really face time right now. sorry, lix.” 

felix pouts and holds back a small, disappointed sigh “it's ok. I understand. but next time, i have to see your face, ok?” he says, lightly teasing you. you laugh softly and nod, even though he can't see. 

“yes, yes. i understand.” you draw out, pairing it with a soft giggle. “sooo, how was practice?” 

felix flops down on the bed, sighing heavily. his body sinks into the sheets, practically melting, as his tired muscles groan. felix talks about the practice. talks about how each comeback gets harder and harder with all the new (and crazy) dance moves. he mentions his back and how it's been causing him pain lately.

“felix.” your tone turning into a light scold. “you have to be careful!” 

“yeah, i know.” he sighs softly, “and i do try. but i sometimes forget, y’know.” 

you sigh softly and roll your eyes. in the background, felix can hear movement down the receiver. the subtle sound of the bathroom light flickering on. the rustling of fabric and the sound of a packet of wipes opening up.

“whatcha doing?” felix asks after a brief moment of comfortable silence.

“taking off my make-up.” you say, wiping your eyes clean from eyeliner and mascara. your voice echoing a little in the bathroom. felix hums softly and closes his eyes, arms behind his head on the plush pillow

he starts to think, imagine, you in the bathroom, stepping out of the shower. body slick with water, thick towel around your body. he shifts a little, heat pooling in his gut slowly. 

he ignores it. 

“tell me about your day, babe.” felix says, voice thick. he needs a distraction. needs to stop thinking about you in such a lewd way. he listens to you chatter about your day, your voice light and excited.

but it only fuels the heat sitting in the pit of his stomach. he clenches his jaw, eyes still closed and the words of changbin “are you pent up?” ring in his mind once again

“fuck, maybe i am pent up..” felix mumbles to himself. you hum a little and felix clears his voice, “oh, nothing. don't worry about it, babe. just keep talking.” 

he rests his phone on the pillow by his face. he listens to you but he also imagines you. his mind thinking of dirty, lewd scenarios of you as he listens. he feels guilty but, he needs some sort of relief. he listens to you talk. he tries to ignore the heat that's coiling at the base of his spine

and then you laugh. that sweet, angelic laugh midway through your sentence and he feels it. his cock twitches in his underwear and he grits his teeth.

he can't ignore it no more. his hand slides down his chest and abdomen, stopping at the band of his underwear. he sucks in a breath, his fingers dancing along the outline of his shaft. he palms himself slowly, drawing out the pleasure with the heel of his hand. he rubs his hand along his shaft, the rough fabric creating some sort of friction but it's not enough.

he twitches again. a wet patch forming where the head of his cock sits. it grows with everything second he spends listening to your voice. when the burn gets too much, when his hips start to thrust up off the sheets and into the air, does he finally pull down his underwear.

his cock springs free from the restraints, hard, heavy and thick, curving slightly to the left. the tip an angry red, glistening in precum and veins bulging from the sides. “jesus..” he mumbles to himself. with each syllable you speak, his cock twitches and leaks more and more. 

he wraps his hand around the base, shuddering at the contact and letting out a small breath through his teeth. his eyes close slowly as he moves his hand, wrist rotating at the tip. his thumb presses into his slit, collecting and smearing the precum.

his hand moves faster and faster, chasing that high. his back arches a little off the mattress, his toes curling against the sheets. he holds back the moans, partly feeling guilty for using your voice as jerk off material. 

“lix? you still there?” you ask softly when felix doesn't reply to a question. his eyes snap open and he clears his throat, trying to make himself sound as normal as possible.

“yeah!” his voice cracks before he clears it again, “yeah, i’m good.” 

“you sure? you haven't spoken for a while.” 

“a hundred percent, babe. just listening to you talk, that's all.” he isn't lying, he just leaves out the point where he is jerking off to your voice. “besides, your days sound much more interesting than mine.”

“mhm, i’m not so sure about that.” you laugh softly. felix laughs as well as a response. the more he strokes himself, the more he feels the heat pool and hug his spine and gut but he can't. 

he's so used to having you with him, feeling you, hearing you and tasting you, that trying to reach peak on his own has become hard. 

he grits his teeth, becoming frustrated. he wants to, he needs to. his hand squeezes his base. his free hand frantically massaging his heavy balls and using the palm to create friction on his sensitive tip.

his bottom lip catches between his teeth, biting down hard on frustration. he's about to give up, say fuck it and go to bed until you say those three words:

“i love you.” 

he freezes slightly. his body coils. his eyes widen and he pants heavily. his hand moves faster as those words ring around in his head. he turns his head to the side where his phone rests and he breathes down the phone

“say it again.” he pants, not bothering to hide it any more. 

“i love you.” you repeat, sweeter this time. felix shudders, his eyes squeeze shut and finally the coil snaps.

his cock twitches in his hand as he releases hot, thick splurts of cum onto his chest. his breath stutters. his body tensing and muscles locking up with each release. he slowly strokes himself to help ride out the high and to help calm himself down. once calm, his eyes close and his body feels heavy but he feels refreshed. 

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: happy belated valentine's gift

For an awfully chilly winter day, a cozy warmth radiates off you. Those around you have always known that cold environments are wicked against your presumably ill form. It takes one slight breeze — let alone the prickle you now feel in your skin — for you to shrivel and hunch over in pain. Wailing over frozen toes and the ache in your joints. Exaggerating that if you move a bone, it will snap in half from how horrible this cold treats you.

Jaemin had once told you the spirit of Satan that incubates in your soul was reacting and thus punishing you — as is his nature. He’d say that hell was freezing over and that Shaytan couldn’t handle the pain he inflicts. He couldn’t reap what he sowed like most people.

To Jaemin, it didn’t matter because he’d reassure you he would always be there to aid. Even through jests and laughter, because no matter the wickedness, he loved you and would strip down to the bone if it meant you were warm and safe.

You’d laugh and tell him neither of you would survive the Garden of Eden if he succumbed that easily. That within seconds you’d both be influenced by the wretchedness of that conniving snake and devour all the sacred fruit that the rest are too scared to eat. Even the snake itself because your hunger was insatiable.

Now he can be sure of how true your statement had been all those years ago, as you show no signs of frostbite and look like you do on summer eves. And the reason you both find yourselves in this predicament.

Your giggles are melody to his ears but a stake to his heart. They boom within his eardrums, louder than the galling crunch of shattered crystal glasses under both your soles and the vivacious psychedelic music that oozes through the cracks of this newly built mid-century home.

Jaemin smiles at you with adoration, hand itching to take yours but retrieves the instance both pair of feet come in contact with the transported east coast pebbles. Those that make both of you waltz and wobble until reaching the first step to avoid falling on the treacherous shards. Much like one trapped in malicious waves and surrounded by sadistic boulders.

That’s without mentioning the starved and slabbering bodies watching this young couple approach the property like trusting fawn searching for comfort and solace in the arms of it’s eventual predator. It will all lead to the consumption of one’s most vital organ at the end of the day.

There’s many things going through yours and Jaemin’s head but neither speak. He knows words and sentiments will be different but if there’s one thing he’s sure of, is that he’s just as happy as you with only the smile on your face.

Your head turns to the windows above, the slew of bodies dancing and the lack of clothes let another giggle out. Jaemin shrugs, a dry chuckle while he pulls out the nearly empty cigarette case. He thinks their movements are silly and anything but provocative but you’re amused. As amused as a pup discovering new things.

Thinking of it, Jaemin concludes that this is new for you. Before him, your only sexual encounters were self-gratification. You had gone in detail over dinner at an upscale restaurant as he ate raw oysters, it had been your fourth date.

He studied the way your eyes tentatively watched his mouth, your own twitching every time he consumed the meat and the lemon juice glossed his lips. He knew a salacious grin is what wanted to display on your face. Yet you over and over again covered it with self-effacement.

Jaemin hadn’t let you off the hook that night, rather he grinned like you had wanted to while sliding to your side of the circled booth and placed his cold hand on your exposed thigh. He asked if you had ever tried oysters to which you denied and he would only let you taste if you’d tell him a secret.

You had never wanted to try them and the deal was stupid. The look of an oyster disgusted you but Jaemin loved them and his hand against your warm thigh sliding up the mini dress reminded you of your own hands in between your legs.

With details and only for his listening, you explained the way your fingers felt on the bundle of nerves and how your fingers — plunged within you — had only brought satisfaction to you once. Explained to him how often you touched yourself trying to reach a high that you always brought yourself to but have grown restless and they weren’t doing it anymore.

He touched you for the first time that night, his hand underneath your satin girdle and panties pushed to the side while he taught you step by step how to eat the disgusting bivalve. He had opened your eyes and thighs that night to the pleasures of the flesh, discovering how insatiable you are.

If only Jaemin knew how dangerous oysters are if not careful.

The music had grown louder the instance you both reached the front door, opening without either of you knocking as Jaemin lit his cigarette. He unconsciously sighed the second he released the smoke, turning to the older woman with a huge beehive covered in a silk scarf that patted your cheek animatedly while you showed her the invitation. She laughed sardonically while looking at him, or so he thinks. Nowadays, everything is treacherous.

“Keys, pretty boy.” She purrs, pushing the crystal punchbowl closer to him. Jaemin gives it one look, one look to her, and back to the bowl before fetching his car keys. In a sea of single keys or neutral toned keychains, he frowns at the colorful keychains on his.

The instance they clink among the others, she fetches his face for a pat like she did to yours. Jaemin avoids it, turning to blow the smoke. Only the light scrape of her finger nails are felt over his hair.

The scene doesn’t seem foreign to him. While he has never tried swinging, he has been young and single with philandering friends and coworkers that strung him into their quests. Nearly naked women in their ripped girdles and their drunken laughter while playing among themselves is the least of his interests.

“Modern, aren’t they?” You ask, voice undulating exultantly. His head turns to look at you, handing you a drink from the open bar that he notices you hold back to finish in one go. “We can simply watch for now, we don’t have to join them.” You add at his lack of response, your excited shakiness warmed down with the drink; finally some signs of the cold corroding you.

It causes a smile to form on his lips, his own frozen chest warming up with your words and the smoke he inhaled, chasing it with the warm whiskey. Jaemin stops refraining himself and opts to let his arm slither around you waist, a slight squeeze as he exhales the smoke. He hasn’t spoken throughout the night but you figure his expertise has made him grow desensitized to these type of things.

Although, this sweet moment is cut short when the lights dim and the music turns erotic. Lulling all guests towards the conversation pit covered in red velvet. The transition from erotica to burlesque works to rowdy the guests. Whistles and hooting as their glasses clink with any hard surface. Hands cusped around their mouth as they scream for the same woman that greeted you both to take off the robe.

A silent giggle as the feathers of her skirt fly when she takes the red silk robe off. It matches with her wrinkled lips and the gemstones on her corset. It’s tightly cinched that her waist appears nearly non-existent. Concerning, even, but no one seems to care when her breasts are flying loosely with the tassels covering her nipples.

Her once tight curls, covered by the scarf are now loose and stable with pomade, only swinging when she gyrates her her hips and jumps slightly to make her bum bounce along the sound of trumpets and drums.

You had never gone to a night club, not even with Jaemin but he has. He’s explained what goes on in them and this seems similar to what he has detailed to you. While he remains unphased, you giggle, praising her as she moves on to the feather skirt and removes it, tossing it for anyone to catch it first.

With every shimmy of her shoulder, yours twitch feeling the same rhythm that courses through her body. She’s expressive and fun; beatitude noises leave her every time she meets the eyes of a guest, resembling a moan — sex without touching.

Nearing the end of her show, she lets her hands roam her corset cladded waist. Squeezing hard enough to make the top of it leave marks below her breast. She laughs and smiles comically the second she swings her upper body, not taking long before her tits encircle with the heart-shape pasties and tassels following suit. She lets one hand stop the assault of her own person to bring it up to her lips and blow kisses at guests. The song mellows out, followed by a fairly recognizable voice.

The whine of it makes your eyes close, lulling you into a state of delirium as you hear his words and that memorable chuckle. The pitch is as high as you remember, but also sultry and easily makes your thighs press together. Your brain makes you recall the one call that sold you to this idea. How dirty and adroit he had been, laughing at your timorous behavior.

You remember it being very erotic, nearly touching yourself inside of a phone booth. Had it not been clear, you probably would have and also had kept the call longer. But guilt had been eating you away. Jaemin’s face had popped up the second you let your hands graced your chest and rapidly hung-up on this stranger. The guilt and love you felt for Jaemin is what led you to ignoring the happenings for a month, yet this stranger’s cajole won and here you found yourself with your loving fiance who did everything to please you.

“You want that?” Jaemin had asked calmly, stopping his annotations on a colleagues research paper. “I want whatever you want.” You replied, an expectant smile that told him yes. He simply mirrored it, kissing your forehead, “I want whatever you want.” He concluded.

As cheering and clapping die down, the host smiles, bowing as if he had been the one to give this show. He scans the room, going down the steps into the conversation pit. He gives every single one of them a smile, nodding when reaching your and Jaemin.

“I’m glad you all enjoyed the beautiful tricks my wife offers. Perhaps one of you will be lucky enough to gain a private show tonight.” He winks, the other guests laugh but Jaemin doesn’t so neither do you. “It’s a special night for all of us lovers. It’s Valentine’s day! A day for love and friendship… Which is why we are all celebrating it together.”

Jaemin swirls his glass, from his peripheral vision he looks at how starved these guests are. They’re all fairly older than both of you, two other couples, and this man speaking. To an extent he wants to frown and feel pity for him. How can someone so young be entangled and in charge of something so lewd? But he’s the host overall, it’s obvious he’s nothing but a deviant himself and Jaemin is in no position to judge as he finds himself under the same roof. The reasons may differ but he’s here nonetheless and prior, he philandered himself, as well.

“We find ourselves some fresh faces,” The man scans the conversation pit for the millionth time this night, his hands move to the front. All the while his gaze lingers on you and your husband. Jaemin remains indifferent to the circumstances, finishing the drink he had been nursing this entire time. On the contrary, you don’t let your gaze linger for too long. His own is heavy and driven enough for the both of you that even his grin creates a force within you that you try so hard to restrain. At least with Jaemin beside you.

“That being so, I will go over the rules again.” He goes over the basics of this meeting. Comically as is his nature, the while his wife in the background acted out his every word. They treated it all like a joke but his voice was stern enough to let everyone in the room know that safe sex and boundaries were not to be ignored within these walls or ever. No matter how taboo contraception is.

“Boundaries are not to be crossed, these walls are thin and we will intervene. Protection must not be removed no matter what, only to dispose and replace if the fun continues.” The host nods, clasping his hands as his wife approaches him with the punchbowl filled to the brim with new and, or barely surviving car keys.

He frowns at the neutral array, quietly beaming when his eyes catch the colorful hues that belong to you and Jaemin. Melodic and animated noises similar to his wife’s leave his lips. Some expression you find goofy but ignore the while he swirls the keys around as if it was a delicacy he was to eat and not metal dirtying his hands.

“We should start with new couples. Right, dear?” His head tilts, his wife still exposed to the world within these walls. She hums with that same whine he has; her eyes wander, landing on the couple on the opposite side of the pit.

She shakes the punchbowl slightly, making sure keys flip around with every move. “Close your eyes, hun.” She coaxes, elongating her words with a cheeky smile as the woman digs her fingers through the pool of metal. Her partner had covered her eyes, egging her to keep digging and wincing when her fingers curled around multiple keys. His free hand itches to dig for her.

In that instance you figure he was more aroused at the idea of watching her have sex with another man hence his hesitance on her choosing just any keys. It’s most likely he already has someone in mind for her but the frown on his face as she pulls out a beat up scuffed Chevrolet key says enough.

In that instance an older man, gray haired and hanging belly stands up. You mimic the partner’s frown, merely upset yourself. The man’s forehead was lighter than the rest of his face, hands rough and calloused. It’s likely he’s a countryman that made a great effort to come this far for this night alone. He seemed kind… the kindness reserved for grandfathers and old men at diners. Not a man willing to wife swap with another.

The woman on the other hand didn’t seem to mind much. She laughs pleasantly as she takes the man’s hand, going up the first step out of the conversation pit. They don’t leave and she seems impatient but the veteran in this duo seems to halt waiting for orders from the hosts like dogs waiting to be given permission to feast among their favorite treat.

“Great… Louie is a tender lover. Wouldn’t you say, love?” The host turns to his wife, she doesn’t speak but creates and okay sign and kisses those same fingers with a loud smack. You think she would be a great sales model at the local department store. Or a more luxurious department store, taking into consideration this lavish lifestyle…

“Alright now, our next lovely lady.” Her husband’s body sways your way, nerves finally settling within your gut.

You’re sure if you get a man like the first one you’ll probably bail out and beg on your knees for Jaemin to fuck the disgust out of you. He would, you’re sure of it but he would also taunt you for wanting to try something as crude as this without thinking of the type of couples that could be involved. He wouldn’t do it out of anger or jealousy. He would do it to scorn.

But Jaemin’s gaze is anything but teasing or patronizing. His expression is neutral as if this was just another nuisance for him. His eyebrows lift and signals with his gaze for you to stand up. His lips purse, slicked by the syrup of whatever that drink had in it. He looked so pretty, you should probably leave with him now and continue the lifestyle you both carry…

“Don’t be shy, I won't bite. Unless you want me to…” The host grins, his gaze hasn’t dropped from you. His eyes shimmer with every move you make to stand up and when you reach him, he chuckles to himself like he achieved something by having you near.

Like Jaemin, he orders you to dig through the pile of keys without a word, only expressions. The sharp edges of keys and keychains make you wince, pondering on how the past woman was digging through like nothing. You could feel the scrapes from metal key chains, worried for it’s sanitation if they even made any damage. But ultimately you stop your search of Jaemin’s keys. Keys that you had dropped every time you grasped.

Steadily, you pull the lightest ones that bring the familiar sound of hooting and hollering. Your eyebrows furrow seeing their excited faces. Women among men laugh and the first woman’s partner looks at you with a pensive frown. Jaemin on the other hand seems to mimic the man’s emotions and not your confused ones.

The host takes a look at the keys in your hand, letting his eyes rake your face before taking them within his grasp. This being the first point of contact between both of you. His hands were awfully cold, a cold only you have been able to produce. His glossed lips part, demonstrating those pretty teeth.

“First night and we’re starting strong,” he nods, stretching his hand for you to take. Hesitantly you do so, allowing for a wolfish grin to spread across his pretty face. “Perhaps it’s faith?” He rhetorically questions, handing the punchbowl back to his wife.

Jaemin’s presence felt very dear to you, enough so that your facial muscles spasmed to not smile at the arousal you felt with the touch and words of this foreign man. His voice was huskier speaking to you than to the group that watched the interactions from behind you. His fingers caress your skin without making it seem like you’re to start your activities in front of everyone here. Your only suppressant was the painstaking force of your teeth on your bottom lip that allow him to know it would be a fun night.

Whether he felt pity for you or he was doing his job as a host, his gaze tears from you. Giving you enough time to breathe and turn to Jaemin who only smiles at you encouragingly. It was simple, nothing wide like all his smiles but he also didn’t seem hurt and especially not jealous. Jaemin was… himself. Calm, indifferent, and poised. Smoking his second cigarette of the night, this one matching the man’s that took your spot beside him. Salems, menthols at that.

You’re unsure of whatever was brewing in your chest watching the image, Jaemin didn’t give you much to go from and your facial expressions were beginning to shift. Had it not been for the cold touch against your jaw that drew your attention back to the man you’re to share a bed tonight — well, you’re not too sure what you were going to do anyways.

His thumb is soft against your skin, such a delicate touch that you hadn’t felt how he swept you off your feet and slid across the velvet up the steps of the conversation pit. Jaemin and guests all forgotten when the digit swipes your bottom lip. He inhales deeply, quivering when he exhales. “Smooth.” He claims, smudging the lip stain that clung to his thumb against his own lip. You reckon this is your first shared kiss.

Titillating, your eyes force themselves shut when he pulls fully away, his taunting grin engraved in your brain as he turns back to the guests.

“Oh, and before I part. A reminder: Those who cannot follow through will go into the cuck tabernacle and watch their partners that did. We respect your reluctance or desire to only watch but that isn’t all that fair to the willing party, is it?”

The finality of his voice leads you into the main hall, leaving the remaining guests while the first duo are lead into a different hallway before the four of you part ways. Within a few steps and with the keys he took from your hands not long ago, he unlocks the door he pushes open for you to enter first. His hand places itself on the small of your back, guiding you through the dim, spacious room. Only illuminated by the city lights entering through the curved glass wall.

Overlooking the hill, your breath hitches seeing how beautiful the city looked from here. You nearly forget you’re not alone as you approach the glass, amused by how small and bright everything looked from here. To an extent you understood why all the other guests had stood by the glass wall when you and Jaemin arrived. It felt great to feel bigger than everyone else.

“Do you like it?” He asks, approaching you with a glass of whiskey. Heart shaped ice cubes barely floating. You don’t let your words free just yet, nodding with a smile as you sip on the drink. Wincing at the harsh taste when it smoothly runs down your throat. He doesn’t comment on it but merely chuckles at your lack of expression regulation.

In the instance that he takes off his clunky belt off, your eyes shift around the bedroom. There’s some pictures of him with his wife on the walls. They’re nothing erotic like one would think, but they’re also nothing demonstrating warmth. On the contrary, the room looked very lived in with multiple items that belonged to either of them. Or perhaps both. With the shaggy hairstyle he has, her lavish up-dos, makeup, and the thick eyeliner on his waterline, you’re sure the products are shared.

You attempt not to dwell on the idea of having sex on another woman’s bed. It’s not like she cares to begin with but you put yourself in her shoes and you know if Jaemin had done something like this, you would have grieved for as long as you could.

Then again, Jaemin didn’t seem to care and had been on board with this idea when you first suggested it. He had also had multiple partners before you, in comparison. Perhaps he missed the exhilaration of sexual encounters with others as much as you enjoyed having sex. With him you have been able to discovered what you liked and have experimented everything under the sun. You love Jaemin, you’re going to marry him soon. But you also can’t quench this carnal thirst no matter how good he fucks you to the point you’ve gone numb before.

You both needed this.

To drown your inquisitive mind, the suave instrumental that greeted you not long ago drags the man in the room closer to you. Humming along the instruments as he seductively approaches you. You don’t have to turn around to feel his movement. You’re also able to see him undoing the loose knot of his muslin poet’s blouse through the glass.

The delighted grin you’ve held off for too long finally shows itself upon feeling his arms around you, pulling your exposed back closer to his now exposed chest. Bare skin to bare skin, the while his mouth ghosts over your neck. Hot breath taunting the awaited contact. His wavy hair tickling the neck he should be kissing by now.

His labored breathing is heard the longer he remains in that position. His hands roam whatever he can touch without giving you much pleasure. “You haven’t spoke once since seeing me. It’s very important for you to tell me what you want in these cases.” His head tilts slightly, nearly teasing you with the graze of his lips against your neck. You’re sure he’s doing it on purpose. You don’t need to look to know he’s grinning ear to ear at your shiver.

“I don’t know…” Is all you can muster. It’s nonsensical but also concrete enough as an answer. He doesn’t push for more right now, seemingly aware of what you mean. He’s rather engrossed in the swaying of your body against his, lead by his hands with the rhythm of the playing record.

“I found the invitation in the powder room at Marty’s a month ago. I thought someone left their brooch and peeked the contact number.” You speak, feeling his hands ease down your hips. Examining and studying every reaction to his touch. “I called only a few days later and— ah…” Your eyes flutter shut, head thrown back to land on his exposed shoulder, the lack of support from the knots making the black fabric slide down the bone.

He grins successfully, malicious even. Satisfied with how easy your body was. He hadn’t even touched any vital points. All he had done was add pressure to your upper thigh for you react so lewdly. So utterly needy…

“I knew I recognized that pretty voice.” He says, finally rewarding you with a tender kiss to your neck. So tender and wet; slow enough to drive you mad. Whimpering petulantly when he refuses to deepen it.

Ten days. It had only been ten days since New Years arrived and a tragedy had already occurred that had shaken Jaemin up enough to talk about it over dinner with his boss.

“It’s a calamity, I tell you! And it’s unconstitutional to deny Bond his seat... Dr. Wayne, you’ve seen the horrors of war. You’ve experienced them. I’m sure some members of the legislature have been veterans themselves. You know how much of an injustice this is.” Jaemin claims, the passion and sincerity in his voice drawing your hand to squeeze his thigh in order to ease the anxiety.

The older man of the two shakes his head upon finishing his old fashioned. “I bear the scars of war, son. So do you. But you will never make this country open its eyes to calamity. Whether we’re witnesses or the ones inflicting it. And it will only worsen…”

The doomed finality in his words threaten the night much to Dr. Wayne’s wife’s displeasure. The woman shakes her head, earrings clanking with her disgust. “You men and your wars… We’re having a nice night. Let’s not dwell on matters that don’t belong to us.” But it did belong to you. All of you. It simply has never occurred to her that there’s a privilege that only she and her husband bare.

“Come, Y/n. Let’s powder our noses before they continue.” She giggles, taking your hand and forcing you up — removing your comforting hand from your fiance that simply turned back to his boss.

You enjoyed the company of Mrs. Wayne. If you didn’t think about how ditsy and out of touch she was, she could easily remind you of your aunt. Fun, witty, and caring after all.

She had told you her entire life story when first meeting. Having grown her entire life as a socialite, her mother was strict and kept her away from men. Marrying Dr. Wayne had awaken her sexuality much like Jaemin had for you. Despite not telling you explicitly, she was good in masking the meaning of her message.

But now they’ve been married for over thirty years and she had once scolded you for trying to bring up your sex life with her — explicitly and not like her. She had told you that good women never performed fellatio and only performed sexual acts when procreating.

She was quite honestly upset that neither you and Jaemin had waited for marriage to fornicate. And far worse that it was a filthy game to both of you that you felt confident enough to bring it up to her as if she would enable your lecherous acts. For someone with seven kids and still trying for more, it had made you think it was a joke. Yet, she was serious and perhaps projecting.

That’s the first time she had shown disappointment in you. Reminding the both that despite your backgrounds only being similar in how adult figures treated sex around you, both of you threaded around it in completely different ways.

On the way to the powder room she had chewed your ear off about men’s nonsense and her own. You had drowned it out when she went into a cubicle and kept rambling. Only responding with hums and one word answers knowing she was looking for enabling, not communication.

You had no business in there; leaning against the pink marble shell shaped sink, you sigh upon noticing your reflection. You know much hasn’t changed but you have aged while your brain hasn’t as much.

Jaemin had once told you about arrested development. He had joined Dr. Wayne on a week long trip for a study and Jaemin had come back ecstatic. It’s not that he found a cure or needed to because truly no one was treating this as something fully serious. Not even your sweet and intelligent boyfriend (at the time). Rather, they had only gone to hear the stories of what led these people to this stagnation for their own amusement and half-bullshitted notes knowing they had already made up their minds on the matter.

Despite so, their stories felt reminiscent and coincidental that it had angered you. Jaemin and Dr. Wayne hadn’t cared for these patients. Blissfully ignorant to the fact that their partners were somewhat mirrors of those they heard and ignored only to use as pawns to scream ‘I told you So's’ to whoever had first discredited their initial thesis.

And truly despite it being years since then, Mrs. Wayne still had the emotional maturity of a fourteen year old with the conservatism of one taught by their equally ignorant privileged mother.

You weren’t too far behind, you had known since the day Jaemin introduced the term to you. You knew you were naive and sheltered as a child is. Your family had gone to far lengths to keep it as such and despite Jaemin’s introduction into your life cracking some of that down, you still felt a shell of that girl they had created.

Therefore, perhaps spotting that brass oyster brooch resting against the sink’s drain had been faith, a step into mental stimulants to rid you of this stagnant immaturity.

And so was your piquant 11:00am call with a stranger that as far as you knew could have been a disgusting pervert.

It doesn’t go to say it didn’t make you feel guilty for a month straight. Hiding from your fiance that you had enjoyed the verbal ravishing of a man you had never met, in cajoling efforts and enjoying it.

Guilt for betraying his trust and love despite never touching the other man. Guilt for thinking about his voice when Jaemin was gone for work and you felt needy. All until you had asked Jaemin if he was willing to follow through with this and like the loving devoted fiance he is… of course he did.

“The world is your oyster.” Haechan recites.

Haechan… You now remember clearly the name he had introduced himself with when he picked up the phone.

“You left me aching to hear more from you after that call.” He claims, lips finding their path down to your shoulder. “I kept thinking of it too…” you confess in a whine, his teeth nipping the marks Jaemin left last night. Arousal reaching you quicker at the thought of Jaemin being part of this despite not being present.

“Thought about it for too long, don’t you think?” he hums against your skin, lifting his head to kiss the shell of your ear. “I didn’t know how to bring it up to—” You hesitate, despite both of you wanting this; guilt gnaws no matter what. “To your husband?” Haechan answers for you.

“He’s not my husband.” “Not yet.”

His grasp around your hand is harsh enough to make your fingers squeeze around the stone of your ring and imprint it’s form on the flesh. It’s not surprising how delicious you find this punishment. If you knew him better, you’d think jealousy had driven him.

“Does he mind?” Haechan questions, no longer holding back in ravishing your exposed skin. His hands knead your back, sighing contently with your shake of head. “He seemed awfully indifferent back there.”

“He’s a psychiatrist. I think he’s grown accustomed to react neutral in any situation.” You attempt to justify. Unsure yourself as to how calm he has been. You were thankful about it, he wasn’t upset and didn’t reproach you. Completely leaving his trust in your hands and compliant to your needs. But the twinge of guilt is what made you want more from him. You think, at least.

“So he’s okay with this?” Haechan asks, his fingers fiddling with a rose on your dress. “Yes,” you assure, “He said he wants whatever I want and I too want whatever he wants.” The finality and semi-confidence in your voice makes him hum in acceptance.

Despite it, Haechan is human and feels bitterness far more than anything else. It didn’t take a genius to understand Jaemin loves you. His body language was lax as his expressions were. He had shown no discomfort upon seeing another man touch you in the slightest because he simply loves and trusts you.

It makes Haechan bitter in a sense that a kid is when he can’t have what he wants. He wants to feel the comfort Jaemin feels with you and the weight of your love. He wants to dig into his mind and see what it feels like to love someone so much that they have no reason to be jealous of even a fly.

Yet, you were of no help either because you had given Jaemin the confidence to not fear for his love. You’ve given everything of you to him to the point that he’s not able to take care of it all and the reason you find yourself in this room. You had asked Jaemin for permission and one that he granted because he knew it meant nothing.

And it will mean nothing. Haechan is fully aware of that and bitter about it. Because he should mean everything to everyone, that’s what he’s grown to know.

It’s not common for him to feel this attached within the first meeting but every body that has passed the threshold of this home lacked love and security. They all used these meetings as a last resort to keep their relationship from falling and using the philandering as a crutch to seem normal to the exterior.

Everyone he’s met throughout this period no longer loved nor trusts. He’s aware you’re here for lust and repressed nymphomaniac tendencies; he decreed so during the phone call a month ago. But despite that, he had studies your expressions when the first woman pulled the keys and the obvious repugnance presented on your face told him that you truly were not cut for this. It had only been his suave talk that drew you here.

For him and only him…

Haechan feels gratification with this conclusion, smiling as he turns you around to face him. His hands have warmed up against your skin, dragging them to your face and cupping it as he leans in. The taste of berry sangria on his tongue that intrudes your mouth. Velvet against yours that tastes similar enough to make him moan.

“Beautiful…” He whispers against your mouth, enamored as he pulls back slightly to look at your face. “I’m glad my volubility did not scare you away.”

“On the contrary… it made me horribly wet. I nearly touched myself in public for you.”

Your confession makes his strained cock twitch freely against the taut leather. He moans louder than before, leaning to kiss you further in attempts to swallow all the words you had not granted him that morning.

His kisses grow frantic and needier. Your lips slot against his, turning from contained to dirty and wet. His fingers don’t attempt to hide the fact that they are caressing your nipples over the fabric of your dress.

His greed increases, recalling the delicious taste of your skin minutes prior, leading his mouth down the slope of your neck to the skin over your sternum. His tongue laps at your collarbones, savoring the smell of your scented powder and the taste of it.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of your meek voice… Your heavy breathing as I explained how you would get fucked if you came…” His words and teeth force you to pant, the tingle between your legs forces your knees to buck. He laughs mockingly as he presses his teeth further into your skin. “I could hear your whimpers that day. It drove me mad all day when you hung up suddenly. I couldn’t get myself to finish.”

You take the initiative to kiss him this time. Tugging on his shaggy hair enough to draw out another moan. He grins at the sting, mouth fetching yours and it’s not until you kiss him that he calms down. It returns to being clean and passionate, much more forceful but it’s all in the name of deprived arousal.

The instance his skin begins to burn, he pulls away. Dragging the muslin shirt off his torso, showing off caramel skin. Dewy from his grown arousal that finds no other way than to manifest through perspiration. He smiles upon catching your sight, bringing your hand to his soft peck, squeezing for you.

Your fingers twiddle his dark nipples, biting your lip seeing how they perk.

Jaemin had done this many times to you before, always managing to bring them erect. You now understand the delight of bringing someone to this state. So you’ll reward Haechan the way Jaemin does.

A sweet lascivious smile forms before dipping your head against his chest. Teeth clinging to the perked nipple before allowing your tongue to swirl around it. To finally allow your lips to stick, raking your hands over the other one and scratching enough to hurt but leave wanting more.

Throughout this ministration, Haechan withers and whines. His right hand patting your covered bum while his left teases himself. Touching the strained mound and rubbing for some relief just to stop when it begins to feel good.

You attempt to do the same to the other abused nipple, a delicacy he denies you. His hands tug at your hair like you had done earlier to his. Kissing you to get a taste of himself even if minimal.

He revels in the gasps and whimpers rooting from your throat. Pulling away only to look at your ravished lips. He grins wolfishly, biting his swollen lip, taking this opportunity to look at the pretty dress you wore tonight.

For him…

“This is too pretty of a dress for an occasion like this, don’t you think?” His fingers glide over the silk roses, pale blushed and soft against the pads. “Or am I this important to you?” His taunt holds sincerity.

You quietly laugh, taking his hand into yours. An intimate gesture that hitches his breath before masking it with a hum. “We went to a banquet before this. Jaemin’s team have been awarded for their research on Child psychology… The effects of events during their infancy which bleed into their adult life.” There’s a fondness in your voice that guts him; your belief and doting on your fiance. One he’s not sure has ever belonged to him through anyone he’s encountered.

There was no obligation to justify your attire nor give him context. He would have preferred if you hadn’t told him what you did prior to this and he surely wasn’t interested in your fiance’s line of work. But you still told him because you’re in love with and proud of Jaemin, even in the arms of another man.

He clears his throat, eyes lift to yours. “Jaemin... That’s your fiance’s name.” He utters with ascertain. To put a name to the face you love mars his mood, not gravely to stop but enough to feel the need to be punitive towards you due to his inhibitions.

He sighs calmly, pulling mere millimeters away to look at you and the dress again. The shape held by the petticoat lining of ivory faille and linen. He smiles at the ribbed touch, kissing your cheek when he meets with the roses and silk vines that spread from the straps to the hem of the skirt. Met at the peak of the plunged “V” back that displays two larger roses at the cinched waist. He twirls you like a ballerina in a music box, stopping when you’re facing each other again.

“Is this an invitation to deflower you?” He jests, cradling your face before his fingers dig into the center of a rose. “I don't see that possible. Must I remind you I'm engaged?” You entertain, mirroring his action, thumb caressing the softness of his cheek. He turns to kiss the pad, an airy chuckle when your nail slightly scrapes his upper lip.

Haechan shrugs, slipping the straps down your arm. Holding your hand like a debutante at her inauguration. Your stage in the shape of a circular bed and a heart-shaped velvet headboard.

“But it is your first time without Jaemin.” He justifies with sly sharpness, laying you down once fully stripped down to your girdle and panties.

His hands don’t caress your breast for too long, opting to pet them delicately before trailing off your body onto his. Your lips part, words that haven’t formulated wanting to cascade from your mouth. Your eyes track his movement, yet your focus is on the discarded dress Jaemin had bought for you.

A dress he spent long enough saving for you to wear at this night’s banquet. There was pride in the way guests complimented both of you and one that you would’ve liked for him to express behind closed doors the way Haechan is doing now. Ravishing your body and enjoying the fruits of his hard labor.

But it’s not him that enjoys what he worked hard to obtain. It’s another man that you have only talked to once and who isn’t treating the delicate custom piece the way Jaemin would have.

“Donghyuck,” He interrupts, unzipping his burnt amber leather pants. “You can call me Donghyuck, or Hyuck.”

“Hyuck…” You try out, muted and whisper like as your eyes rake his nakedness. By nature, your teeth take your lower lip, clinging hard enough as your restless hands unclasp the garters from olive stockings, leaving them hanging on your satin girdle.

He smiles with a nod, kneeling before your feet. The action blowing your pupils; his hands were cold again, a delightful coolness to your warm thighs as he parts them, further pushing the girdle over your hips.

“Precisely like that.” He answers giving no time for you to react or respond as he pulls down your matching panties. Slick and warm from your arousal that has been brewing since before you left the banquet. Anticipation from his words during the phone call replaying all night.

Hyuck isn’t soft nor a clean eater. He’s rough and famished like a predator that hasn’t been satisfied in centuries. If he was Dracula, he thinks you would be his Elisabeta.

Frenzied, he tugs harshly at your stockings, ripping the fabric off your legs despite your complaints. Those he overturns into pleasured mewls while his tongue intrudes your hole and scoops further slick that he spreads over your cunt.

If he thinks you’re too quiet, he nips your clit. Sadistically laughing against you when you yelp in pleasure. Simultaneously tugging his hair and pushing his face further into your core. Rewarding him with mewls and chants of his name, “Hyuck… Hyuck, Hyuck, Hyuck!” — As much as he rewards you with more stimulation.

Delighted, Donghyuck looks up at you, eyelids heavy and lower half of his face smothered in nothing but your arousal. He sighs heavily with a smile that you’ve seen only on Jaemin’s face before. “You’re so sweet… You taste so sweet, Y/n.”

Whether it’s from the feeling of his fingers intruding your walls — thick enough to stretch you with the first intrusion — or his salacious use of your name. But what you’re sure of is that you want more of what he’s giving. More so when you know this is only the start.

His plump lips are swollen from this ministration and his natural plush, coming in contact with your scathingly hot cunt. Encircling the mound as his fingers revel in the tautness of your opening. The muscles flexing around his digits to grow accustomed to the plunging. It stings in a way only a masochist could enjoy and a sadist could appreciate.

It helps that his lips and tongue generously alleviate the fever of your cunt. Velvet kitten licks that turn flat on the vulva as a whole. Reaching your clit, he sucks on the nerve like you had his nipples. The action concomitantly makes you writhe in pleasure, displayed through shrieks of joy and laughter at his audaciousness. One that he replicates when you caress his shaggy hair. Locks turning curlier the further he sweat and they stick to his forehead.

You grow restless the further he continues his assault against your cunt. Moaning and wailing his name to let you release. But he does not relent; his hips jut against the bed, fingers curling within you with each thrust. His mouth seeks to consume every drop of arousal produced by you while punitively forbidding you full pleasure.

Like a pained martyr wanting to be in the hands of God, you writhe underneath his mouth. Begging and imploring for him to let you finish and thence give him the same pleasure he’s brought to you.

“Donghyuck, please! I can’t hold back anymore.” You cry, tugging at his curls with every jolt from his tongue flickering your clit. He feels the need to laugh at your misery but it’s also very endearing. Heartfelt enough, he opts to wrap his lips around your clit once more, lightly sucking while his fingers caress your accustomed walls.

He pats your thigh, indicating that it’s fine for you to come. Fortified when rather than sucking, he kisses your cunt and his fingers no longer thrust. With such, you moan loudly, holding his head between your thighs while you writhe from expelling such pleasure.

“Donghyuck!”

You cry, panting heavily. Your legs shake, scathing around his head and even if he’s suffocated he doesn’t let go. Instead, he helps you push them further until both of you are satisfied and you’re left spent on the bed. With a heaving chest and a sore cunt that has not yet received everything he promised you that morning.

Satisfied with his accomplishment, Hyuck smiles up at you. His head on your thigh, heat easily could have merged your skins if it was merciless but it’s fond due to his care. His eyes cannot move elsewhere, stuck on your face as you try to calm yourself down.

He blows cold against your cunt, hoping that helps your new found pleasure. It doesn’t, it makes you twitch under the slight graze of his breath and makes your eyes open to look down at him. To witness how beautifully consumed he looks.

Swollen pink lips, glossed by your come. Teeth showing themselves when your eyes meet his, teeth that tortured and enamored you at the same time with their sadistic caresses on the most vital organ of your cunt.

Your hand shakily reaches for his face in attempts to caress his delicate features. Those full cheeks that you could possibly spend long enough touching for comfort and amusement. Hyuck must have read your mind and did not seem to share your sentiment. He allows his smile to softly falter at the weigh of reality that you much rather ignore, patting your thigh as he stands up. His strained red raw cock springing when no longer restrained by the bed.

Your eyes instantly draw to the phallic, quivering at how it twitches under your gaze and its dire need for release. You feel your mouth salivating, pooling within your closed lips wanting to be felt all over him. He lets you watch, allowing his fingers to softly rake his torso in a manner of restraint. Only the layer of tension makes this even more excruciating and it truly doesn’t help that when your hands can no longer remain to your sides and reach for him, he takes two steps back to leave you hanging from the bed. Just like with your attempt to caress his face.

Hyuck doesn’t smile tauntingly nor does he let out an airy laugh like he does when he mocks you. He leaves you in silence through his course towards a vanity to pull out a rubber. You think this is worse than his playful taunt. Because it’s simply that, playful but this is uncertain and silent, and you’re not sure what it could possibly mean after only being eaten out.

It could be your inexperience? Jaemin was the only man you’ve been with and he’s always been more than worshiping after every single act. Hyuck had been doting during the act and kind enough after but he wasn’t Jaemin and you don’t know what to think after rejecting your fellatio and touch.

“Let me,” You beg in a whisper, crawling on the bed in his direction. Your knees sink onto the mattress, following his every move. From his fingers grasping the carton box of Trojans, to them ripping the rectangular foil open and letting the red piece lay over a jewelry box.

“Please…”

Haechan doesn’t let your pleas distract him from the action. He stares into your eyes as he rolls the prophylactic, letting you know that he won’t grant you the satisfaction of pleasing him. Of touching him…

As if it was the biggest tragedy you’ve ever encountered, a heavy and pained sigh leaves your throat. Your hands don’t hesitate to cover your face. Dizzy from this denial and lack of gratification. Perhaps you are insatiable and greedy, but you are not satisfied with only his mouth. You want to feel him, taste him, touch him.

The action creates a flutter within his being. A warmth bigger than that of your legs around his head, one that makes him feel as feverish and dizzy as you. Seeing you so upset and sickly over not being able to consume him. It was pride, he’s sure of it. Arrogance and pride, something he knows all too well and that he’s reveling upon right now.

Yes, this is how he wants you. Craving him and only him.

It brings back the tease that he is, his laugh increasing in volume while your face is buried in your hands, desperate for him to move onto the following step. To give you something now that your cunt feels empty and needy again. You would like to think that if you weren’t this hot and bothered, his patronizing would upset you. But no matter how you look at it, you’ll always take whatever is given no matter how degrading as long as you get your fix.

“It won’t feel good with a condom,” He justifies despite his harsh grasp on your hair, forcing you to look up at his goading pout. He could be berating you and you’d still want to kiss those lips. “Maybe next time.” He adds before you can beg again, his grasp on your hair aiding his handling to get you to lay back on the bed.

It’s harsh and punitive, the kind that creates adrenaline in you that you wish for more. It leaves your chest heaving, grinning at him as he gets on the bed, crawling between your legs. Hyuck simply responds with that smile and chuckle you’ve grown to like more and more this night. Pushing your shoulder down as he takes your legs, parting them further and around his hips.

Jaemin had always been soft since the beginning. He’s experimental, audacious, an adrenaline junkie when it comes to locations, and open to any desire of yours. But there’s a softness in his touch that leaves you restless and far more insatiable than you think you are. There’s been multiple cases where he breaks the mold and becomes as rough as you want him but it doesn’t take long for him to return to what he truly is and it leaves you hollow, yearning for the thing that comes once in a blue moon.

Perhaps if Jaemin was rougher, you wouldn’t be here. On the brink of coming with the bruising shove of fingers on skin by a stranger.

Haechan is a tease in the manner he grabs his cock and presses the tip against your opening. Giving you hope and taking it away when he doesn’t penetrate you. He plays around, rubbing his latex clad penis over your warm and wet sex. Smiling wider every time he thinks of something snarky to say, yet he keeps it in his head before teasing your entrance once more until you’re clinging onto his arms, begging and begging.

“Please don't,” You whine, nails digging into his scalp when you bring his head closer. Tears pooling on your waterline, eyebrows upturned in despair. “Stop teasing, I need you.” It is then that he lets out his thoughts, using your gesture of proximity to plant his lips on yours. A languid tender kiss in which one hand held your hip and the other his cock, rubbing slowly to not excite himself furthermore. Wanting the pent up need to be used on you and not himself.

His tongue intrudes your mouth, you can slightly taste yourself. His tongue is sweet and silky against yours. The nectar of your arousal interlaced with his already saccharine saliva, flowing in between your mouths as he slowly but surely penetrates you like you had begged.

Though he had prepared you, the girth of the shaft was larger than that of his fingers. It stretches the muscles of your cunt as he goes in. Donghyuck was no cruel man, sadistic and somewhat of an ass, but not cruel to not let you adjust to the stinging stretch. Allowing you periods of grace until you’d nod to let him know to continue this pattern until he was able to bottom out.

With every move, your lips part allowing his tongue to deepen in the cavern of your mouth. It brought a great pleasure in Donghyuck to have you so pliable for him. So ready and accepting of whatever as long as he brought you the promised pleasure.

Something else to envy your fiance for…

“I can tell he doesn't fuck you well if you’re this tight…” his words force your hand to cover his mouth, moaning when he begins to thrust in retaliation. His now free hand attempts to pry yours off his face, some muffled words here and there along the lines of:

“Admit it,” “I bet I’m bigger than him, there’s no other reason for you to be this tight.”

Or, “Hm, maybe he doesn’t fuck you. Maybe he does. Maybe he simply doesn’t know how to do it well so you lie. You lie to keep your perfect boy happy.”

Donghyuck only got meaner and rougher, enough that it made vexation mix with your strangled moans as he thrusts into you. Truly in your head there was no reason for him to bring Jaemin into this. Matter of fact, you’re sure this was meant to make you forget about him for an hour or so while you enjoy the pleasure inflicted upon you.

But he’s all you’ve thought about and you’re not appreciative that Donghyuck is manifesting him in this instance. Not this despective, at least.

You stop struggling with Hyuck, freeing your hand and connecting it with his mouth again. This time a little too harshly, comparable to a slap. Your eyes widen slightly as he halts his thrusts, boring into yours. “I’m sorry…” you begin, apologetic that you had grown rougher without intent.

“I’m sorry, just… don’t bring him into this. He’s more than satisfactory.” The gradual change in tone from repentance to assertion didn’t ease Hyuck’s resentment. It fueled and frustrated him further. He’s well aware he shouldn’t care, you haven’t done anything special for him to feel this way but that same doting sentiment you brought when it came to your fiance egged him further into this bitter pit.

Donghyuck ignores your words, his hands sliding down your arms, thumbs caressing your breast until they reach you hips all the while he fucks into you again. Grunts that turn into moans, reaching down to kiss your neck. This position forces his hips to jut, enough to grant a different feel when he thrusts and force moans out of you.

His kisses are tender, nipping when he thinks back to seconds prior. You wince when it does happen but forget when he hits your sweet spot and your pained expression turns to one of pleasure. It’s when your hands reach his head, holding onto him for dear life knowing you couldn’t hold back longer that he took this opportunity to speak again.

“Does he let you do that?” He asks against your ear, nipping the lobe. Moaning into it when you clench around him. The mention of Jaemin turning you on despite your insistence to not bring him up earlier.

Donghyuck is unsure how to feel now. If he mentions your fiance you get turned on but if he doesn't, then how is he meant to spit out his venom? It’s a double edged sword and he loses each time.

“Do what?” You ask panting, your sweaty hands slide down his equally sweaty back and he grips your upper body. Groaning when he helps you sit over his lap. The new position helps you sink on his shaft, feeling yourself shake slightly when you feel him to the hilt.

“Take your anger out on him.” Donghyuck mentions so calmly like it means nothing. He did it in a manner that felt so normal while he didn’t seize his movements, burying his face in your neck while holding you close to him. As if he wanted to merge your atoms together and make one out of you both.

Your hands clung to his body, hugging him tight against you while your own hips began gyrating against his. You wanted to make him forget what he had brought up but you knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not when his fingers dig into your skin practically begging for you to vindicate him.

“I didn't mean to be rough with you.” You explain in between labored breaths.

“I don’t care. You can do it again if it makes you feel good.” Hyuck justifies, kissing your neck in the process. “Soft or rough, I want to make you feel good, Y/n. Come on,” Donghyuck pulls back, letting your arms slide from his body despite his thrusts not seizing.

He takes your hand into his, placing it over his cheek. “Please,” he begs in a whisper, groaning when your hips continue moving against his in hopes bringing him to a climax will make him forget this foolery.

It doesn't. You should've guessed when it comes to someone as adroit.

“Do you want that?” You ask cautiously, holding onto his shoulder with your free hand. Donghyuck looks at you, eyes as glossed as his lips when he begins to speak.

“I want whatever you want.”

Your breath hitches, pupils dilating at his words, and your lips part while your breath comes out shakily. It doesn’t take long for your to let your hand fall against his face like he had begged. Feeling the skin vibrate against yours, stinging your palm deliciously.

While he relishes in the impact and the wonderfully hot sting, you relish in your climax. Moaning shakily as you come around him, your hands searching for his and clinging to them hard enough despite the tickle.

Donghyuck doesn’t come but he does feel gratified with your compliance in making him feel needed and heard.

You pant, smiling to yourself as you rapidly come down from that high. Haechan replicates your expression, your smiles turning to laughs that mute when he kisses you. It’s messy and rushed, lips barely slotting, yet making sure your tongues meet. Playfully, he nips the muscle before sucking on it and swallowing your surprised moans.

Jaemin has never done this… His kisses are tender and if ever feverish, they’re still neat and painless. Never obscene.

Both of you last for minutes in that position, kissing to no end despite your lungs begging for air. Yet, if there’s one thing they should’ve learned tonight, is that neither you or Hyuck are opposed to self-inflicted pain.

He’s still hard and you’re on your second orgasm but this works to heighten that exigent pleasure. Your hips jut slightly, forcing a moan out of him that reminds you that he hasn’t come not even once. His self-restraint far stronger than yours will ever be.

Swiftly as he has been this entire night, Donghyuck helps you off his cock. He shudders at the loss of contact and compression. It twitches under your gaze and it reminds you of how much you want to taste him. While he’s still on the bed and you’re settled before him, you reach forward. Hyuck doesn’t hesitate to catch your wrist, preventing you from even feeling the weight on your palm.

There’s no other way than to whine, lunging forward even if it’s to just settle your face on his thighs. It doesn’t matter, you kiss the skin while imprinting your orisons on it. Lips burning with the touch of his flesh when they fall against it. Every time you attempt to move further up his thighs, he shoves your head.

“Fuck, please… Just a touch.” You whine, salivating at the sight of his heavy red cock mere inches away from your face. You feel delirious, as dizzy as someone stranded in a desert only at arms length from a pool of water, their ultimate salvation. Salvation that he keeps denying while he gets off the bed.

He struggles to steady his breathing, grasping your arm to pull off the bed and drag you willingly towards the window. Donghyuck kisses you hungrily like a starved man that hasn’t ate throughout lent, taking fasting as seriously as Jesus had done.

But Donghyuck was anything but holy and his years of believing were past him. Instead he’s in these four walls as a married man corrupting a closeted nymphomaniac that’s months away from marrying the love of her life. Someone that Donghyuck has grown an agenda towards without knowing him nor you. His only basis stems from having you. Someone so willing and sweet. Someone that should be meant for him, and things like this remind him why his heart harbors no more space for higher beings and their promised universal love.

Donghyuck sighs shakily when you separate, kissing the side of your head before leading you to the glass wall. His lips trail onto your neck and shoulder blades, groaning softly with every grace of his erect cock against your backside. Pushing you against the glass and letting the cold bite onto your skin, receiving the feeling with a squeal but no attempt to push back. To an extent it felt like a cool balm to your excessively scalding body.

“Look how pretty the night is.” He nudges your ankles to part your legs. You hum a response, dumbly nodding as if the words hadn’t processed. Haechan laughs, amused at how easy you falter. How easy it is for you to turn docile and willing. “It seems neighbors are having some fun of their own.” He points out, houses on far lower levels demonstrate a group of people having a lovely get together. Nothing like the one him and his wife are hosting.

He takes advantage of your distraction to push through your aching folds, forcing a guttural moan out of you while your knees buck. Your hands are too sweaty to hold onto the glass, but he makes sure to hold you by the waist, clinging tightly to your still kept girdle.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if they saw you like this? So open and pretty for me…” He sighs contently, throwing his head back at the image. Their appalled (or perhaps pleased) looks seeing how he pistons into you. Rough yet pleasurable that you wail for more and more while you press against the glass, leaving the imprint of your body against it.

“You would want that, right? To have someone look at you being fucked and exposed.” He moans against your ear, kissing the outer shell before gripping your chin, forcing you to look back at him. You’re so far gone and he’s enjoying it like the little shit he is.

Enough so that he grasps your inner thigh, bringing your leg around his torso and letting the muscle burn as long as you both feel good. All to bring down a bucket of ice cold water that you can only respond to by pushing back on him.

“What if it was your fiance down there watching how good I fuck you? Would you want him to see that I make you come fast?”

His thrusts are relentless, he mouths the words to provoke you but all he’s doing is turn you on and anger himself further. Either way, you’re on the receiving end and you don’t care if he’s roughly intentional or not.

Donghyuck is frustrated. With himself and with you. He’s known you for only a night and like in true selfish manner, you’ve enamored him. If someone was to keep such a delicacy and diamond in the rough of a woman, it should be him. Not Jaemin and most definitely none of the other men in attendance.

It’s faith! He’s called it, it’s faith that led you to him and for such his frustration grows more and more. How is he meant to claim his days of believing are gone when he’s convinced faith is what led you here. Maybe you were God sent for him to recover his faith. Yet he knows if that’s to happen, he’ll be blasphemous and find religion within you in the chapel between your legs…

His thrusts don’t seize and his noises become louder than the prior activities. Donghyuck’s grasp on you is harsher, imprinting his fingers on your thighs and upper body. Lips ravishing your neck and shoulders like a death row inmate, savoring their last meal.

Donghyuck can only express these frustration through his words and harsh grasps. “Do you want him to see how you’re begging to have my cock in your mouth knowing you can’t? To see how hungry you are for another man you won’t pledge eternity to?”

It’s the latter that causes you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, moaning loudly like he had dug a dagger into your heart with such cruel words. Cruel but truthful, because you truly did want to taste and feel him in your mouth. And you won’t deny that having Jaemin experience that would make you flood. Not for Haechan’s cruel intentions but because you’d experience this debauchery with your lover.

This time Hyuck can’t hold you up when your knees give up. He slides down with you, grunting as he holds his hips from fucking into you until you’ve reached the carpeted floor. He doesn’t speak again, he’s run out of things to make your emotions thither over the precipice but nothing does it and it’s more probable that he breaks than you.

But the words replay in your head with every thrust, every kiss to your skin. Specifically to those to your temple, like the ones Jaemin gives when he fucks you from behind. It’s all so familiar and warm that for your third orgasm, you’re not able to verbalize your pleasure. Instead your body does the talking, shaking while clenching around him. Your breath fogs up the glass, the most sound you make is that of panting while you come down from your orgasm and the squelch between your thighs as he continues his plunging.

He lets you spasm beneath him while his movement grows languid, exerting little to no force. Simply holding you up knowing you’ll turn into putty if he drops his touch from you. Donghyuck allows his words to be soft and caring now. Uttering pet names that make you smile stupidly against the glass wall and let tiny pleased noises with each one. He’s so sweet… when he wants to be.

When he no longer feels any movement from you, he sighs to himself while pulling out. The action makes you groan, so accustomed to the feel of his penis plunged into you and secreting the cavern in the most wonderful way. What was once warm now feels cool with the breeze passing by and it reminds you that it is yet another winter day. Not the scalding summer that you experience with Donghyuck.

Through the reflection on the glass you watch him. His pained expression when he attempts to touch his cock. It’s swollen and sensitive, having suffered eons in restraint. He pants heavily, removing the not yet soiled condom but one that suffocated him. You muster whatever strength is left in you, crawling his way and catching his attention when your hands grasp his calves.

Donghyuck turns startled, breath hitching in the back of his throat while you look at him. Calming his thumping heart, Donghyuck looks down at you. Right hand cradles your cheek, burrowing into it and kissing his palm while looking at him like your Lord and savior. Having you before him like Mary Magdalene asking for forgiveness for her adultery. But Hyuck knows he’s not the one you should ask if you’re going to. He’s farther from Jesus of Nazareth.

“Please… let me feast upon you.” You whisper against his thigh, kissing it softly. Peppering kisses over the skin, tasting the saltiness on your lips. Reminiscing on those lovely beach days where all you could taste was sea salt even if you didn’t submerge in the murky waters. But this night you did and will continue to do so if he allows you a taste of the phallic that’s brought you pleasure more than once this night.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He swallows, eyes fluttering shut to avoid the lewd image before him. He’s sure if he allows you to, you’ll consume him whole. If you do, he’s unsure how much he can restrain himself from not holding you captive and away from the world.

Donghyuck grunts, shaking his head with the words ‘Jaemin, you lucky bastard.’ repeating over and over in his head as you continue to make out with his thighs.

“Hyuck… Hyuckie, please…” You beg softly, licking a long stripe within his inner thighs. His breath shudders, holding onto your hair as a warning. Yet it’s becoming increasingly harder for him to gulp down his strained arousal. If he doesn’t come soon, it’s likely he’ll never do so again and that sounds more painful than anything he’s ever experienced.

“No. I can take care of myself.”

But he is stubborn and if he wasn’t so pained, he’d laugh at your petulant groan and expression. Seeing in your blazed eyes how you want to tug at his cock and make him ache for keeping himself away from you. So close yet so far. You can feel him but can’t taste him and that only frustrates you further.

“Don’t be so greedy!” There’s so much frustration and entitlement that if it wasn’t for how much the words affected him, he would’ve found you cute.

“Greedy?… Greedy?! I’ve been fucking you all night and you’re still not satisfied!” His voice booms throughout the room, his grasp on your hair turns rough. It stings ever so deliciously that it bothers Donghyuck how cock hungry you truly are.

No matter the situation, you’ll be both satisfied and de-satisfied like the nympho that you truly are.

It doesn’t help that you nod hungrily, lips parting and slowly sticking out the red muscle lathered in saliva that little by little trickle down from it. So hungry, so needy, so insatiable…

“No! No I’m not. I will never be until you let me taste you!”

You. Until you let me taste you.

Perhaps it’s the greed and selfishness. The dire need to be desired and have attention be solely on him that sells him on it. Because in Haechan’s head, you had confessed your dire devotion to him. A devotion eternally strong enough that nothing will rid you of lechery but the taste of his cock and come in your mouth. Very much like communion bread and wine.

He scoffs a laugh, that beautiful grin that you have missed within these minutes. That’s what he receives you with before answering once and for all.

“Fine. If that will soothe your soul."

And like a depraved fiend, you mimic his pleased grin reaching forward while he grips his cock. Pumping once, then twice, then thrice before slapping it over your lips. Instantly painting them with droplets of pre-come that he lathers over them before letting you kiss his tip.

You smile at him like this is the most divine meal. Your tongue pokes out, taking some of those droplets into your mouth to get a taste of his essence. Your eyelids to flutter, gripping his thighs and bringing him closer to your face before slowly easing the phallic into your mouth.

Donghyuck moans and eases into it like the first time he penetrated you. His hands feel antsy, tingling with restraint to not touch you while you sink further down his length. Your tongue swirls around the shaft, savoring the feel of every vein and taste of him. To rile him further, you moan around him, the vibration from your throat forcing him to unconsciously thrust. You gag, curses leaving his lips apologetically while his hand caresses your face.

When your nose reaches his pubic bone, Donghyuck can’t hold back. He grasps both sides of your face. Guiding your bobs until he takes over and begins thrusting into your mouth. The squelching from your throat, your tongue swirling around his tip to draw out pre-come, and the drops of saliva that cling to your lips feels filthier than any porno he’s ever seen or any experience he’s ever had.

Donghyuck doesn’t know how he’ll function knowing his best orgasm will stem from someone that he most likely won’t ever see again. If he’s realistic and perceptive enough, he knows this is it. So how is he meant to survive when you’re so willing and needy just for him? Having waited eons upon eons to taste him like this until he finally gave out and rewarded you.

He’s not sure nor does he want to dwell. Not when you look so beautiful before him on your knees, lips wrapped around his swollen cock and moving against it for him to reach an orgasm. Petting his inner thighs and teasing his testicles with your warm hands. Any touch, any graze drives him closer and Donghyuck can no longer hold back.

“Is this what you wanted?” He pants, hips jutting against your mouth. His fingers rake your damp hair with every move. His nails had been perfectly trimmed, yet the sting of them raking against your scalp brings onto the pleasure of this action.

“To have me this way? Taste and consume me?” Donghyuck eggs on, his thrusts are shaky and sloppy. He can’t hold back anymore and your enthusiastic nods don’t help. He wants to present himself as strong but his whines and shaky moans say the opposite. He’s held back his orgasm for so long that this is enough to push him over the ledge.

“Y/n… y/n, y/n, my sweet y/n…” He chants like you had done with his name when he first laid upon you. Everything was full circle and with this stream of pleasure, Donghyuck lets go. His come spurts into your mouth, trickling down your throat like communion wine aiming to cleanse your soul. This would do the opposite but for this night it all feels heavenly.

Donghyuck shudders under your grasp, hips faltering as he aims to calm himself down. Any moans shush and turn into labored breaths, nodding to himself trying to dispel the haziness in his head. He gives it a few minutes and appreciates that you make no effort to rip your lips from his soft penis. It’s warm and homey, he wonders if you do this for Jaemin too until he’s ready to separate. It’s a nice feeling he could get used to but one that doesn’t belong to him.

With a final sigh, Hyuck pulls back. A soft chuckle when he hears a pop and sees the string of saliva connecting you to him. He smiles tenderly, bringing it upon his fingers and softly smearing it against your swollen lips. It’s tender and domestic, as if it had been rouge you misplaced and he’s helping you with it. In the process his thumb rids of some spilled come, bringing it into his mouth to savor what you have.

It makes him crave more, wondering if this is what you felt when he kissed you after cunnilingus. Wonders if it made you want to feel his mouth more and more like he does right now.

Donghyuck grasps your upper arm, helping you onto your feet and leading you to the bed. It feels different than the first time he had done so. His movements are slow and tender, kissing you softly enough to catch you off guard. You hesitate for a second before kissing him back, arms wrapping around his shoulders. It doesn’t prolong, that earlier guilt flooding you as the minutes tick.

Both of you have come and Donghyuck seems as spent as you, shouldn’t this terminate now? You don’t mention it, settling beside him when both of you calm down and any semblance of tension is gone. No longer enmeshed in search of sexual gratification.

Hyuck had been conscious that this felt different than all his encounters. He was convinced faith in fact did choose you for him. The probability of picking his keys were slim, yet your fingers found him like the oyster brooch had found you. Carefully, he pulls you to his side, taking you under his arm. A sense in you told you to stand up and end it. You both got what you wanted, Jaemin could be waiting for you.

Or he couldn’t. Perhaps he’s still busy himself…

The thought sours your mouth rubbing your face to rid of any expressions. Hyuck is good in reading those and after tonight, an empathetic side of you doesn’t want to hurt him either. So you relent, getting comfortable beside the warm body that embraces you as his hands memorize the skin he won’t feel again.

You both lay silent for what feels like an eternity. It’s comfortable and warm but eventually it turns static and the cold outside finally affects you like it had tried to throughout this entire night. You feel your joints grow rigid and your eyes turn to the discarded dress.

“You didn’t fully explain how you found the invitation.” He attempts to distract, fingers turning your face to his. A timid smile on his face that makes you frown. He seems completely different from the man that ravished you not long ago. It’s upsetting even to have this much control outside of the context of swinging.

“Um, again, found it on the sink drain of a powder room. I thought of handing it over to the restaurant staff in case someone came for it but…” you pause, turning to the decor of this room. So familial and full of life. “But it was too pretty,” You smile fondly, “I noticed the phone number inside and thought it would be better to hand it directly to the owner and well…” You smile, looking back at him.

Donghyuck chuckles, nodding as he turns back to your dress. “I suppose you brought it then.” He answers with a nod; you shake your head. “Don’t presume I’d hand it back.” You joke, smiling when he turns to look at you. He laughs in response, something you replicate. “Would you mind if I keep it?” You ask, he shakes his head with a tender and relaxed smile now.

“No, but I do believe you deserve a prettier brooch than that cheap thing.” He answers, pulling away from you to walk towards a jewelry box on the vanity. You sit up, draping the bedsheets over you as your eyebrows furrow, watching his moves.

His fingers thread lightly over the filigree of the brass jewelry box, flipping the clasp open. You hear the clank of metals among themselves as he decides on what piece to grab. It takes him a while and despite the bed sheet, your skin develops goosebumps.

“Ah,” He tells himself, smiling when he turns to you. He approaches you again, crawling on the bed. His flaccid penis makes you blush as if you hadn’t almost sacrificed yourself to taste it. He’d taunt you but he doesn’t want this moment to mar.

He brings it closer to you, opening the blue velvet box. It’s so reminiscent of Jaemin’s proposal that words clog in your throat and your eyes sting. You attempt to shake your head but the muscles refuse to move. You know it’s not like that. The box is larger, rectangular, but you still can’t accept it. This isn’t how things are meant to be.

Donghyuck ignores the turbulence within you, smiling fondly as he pushes the box further as an offering. “Something blue, something old, something borrowed, and something new.” He utters in a sigh, a slight smile as he looks at the jewelry pieces. His fingers hover over them, not allowing any light to gloss over. Yet in the darkness, the blue gems shine no matter what.

“I can’t.” You let out in a whisper, finally being able to shake your head. “I can’t see why not?” He answers with a smile, unclasping the diamond crusted bracelet. It fits big on your wrist and the metal is rather cold but he only hums. “I trust it will fit you well anyway.” He answers before taking the earrings. He doesn’t put those on you, he simply places them on your palms, closing your fingers around droplet sapphires.

You close your eyes trying to understand his reasoning. He shouldn’t reward you like this. It’s all so beautiful but it creates a pit in your stomach that you’re not able to understand. On one hand you feel confused, almost offended. You’ve always heard men treat their ‘whores’ like this and that’s the last thing you want to be to Donghyuck.

Sure, you just fucked him and only came in search for him but it was all under the guise of experimentalism. Trying to get a fix outside of Jaemin and you’ve received that already. But you don’t want to feel like a whore… you’ve grown with the mindset that that’s the last thing you want to be. Mrs. Wayne would be further disappointed.

On the other hand, you feel guilt. How would Jaemin react? How would he feel to see that a stranger has gifted you these gems presumably as a wedding gift. It feels patronizing to an extent. Is he mocking Jaemin? Is he mocking you? A deeper part of you feels ecstatic to be given this fortune. After all diamonds are girl’s best friend but your pride and ego is hurt on behalf of yourself and Jaemin. Donghyuck means well, you see it in his warm gaze but to anyone outside of this room, it won’t seem like such.

You sigh heavily, shaking your ahead as you attempt to hand the earrings back but Donghyuck had already moved stealthily, crawling behind you to place the sapphire diamond drop necklace around your neck. Clasping it to ever so slightly grace the exposed skin of your neck. So smooth and warm, tempting enough to kiss, but he’s aware his time has come to an end.

“And your something old.” He utters silently, taking your other hand to place an orchid shaped brooch. It glimmers under the moonlight, much like the other jewelry he has draped over you like a ruler would on their favorite concubine. The only exception that you couldn’t be kept, not as he wishes he could.

You let silence flood the room, it’s still static and cold. Confusing and somewhat cruel, “Why?” You ponder out loud, turning your head to look at him. His expressions are neutral, that smile hasn’t faltered and it only grows while formulating a response. “Why not?” He answers, moving off the bed towards the nightstand, pulling out a cigarette. It’s a menthol like the one offered to Jaemin earlier.

“Because,” You begin, shifting your body towards him. “You just can’t.” You justify with no basis. You’re just speaking words, words formulated by the what woulds’ and what if’s of society. Jaemin had never cared for them and it seems Donghyuck cares far less. “But why not? I have them, I gave them to you. That’s it.” He shrugs with the limp stick between his lips as he trudges around the room to pick out clothes. That alone makes questions flourish in your brain but right now, you focus on the jewelry.

“It just doesn’t make sense. I’m sure these are dear to you, you don’t even know me.” You answer, a laugh at how absurd this is. “You don’t know me either and you gave yourself to me.” He answers, tapping his cigarette against the glass ash tray. “Soon you’ll learn that many things in life don’t make sense.” Donghyuck says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Not everything needs a reason to be, Y/n. It’s okay to enjoy things when presented to you as long as you learn to let go or know that it won’t always be offered.”

The words are mostly uttered to himself, exhaling the smoke that smothers his throat purposefully so. Donghyuck had grown to be petulant, childish, and demanding. Things that he cannot be when it comes to you.

“Now come, let’s shower before you leave.” He smiles wider, standing from the bed to take your hand. You let the words sink, not fully convinced but this once you’ll revel in indulgence. If you’ve indulged in the taste of foreign flesh, what more harm does it do to take the fruits of such?

You smile in return, nodding at his words and acceptance. “I had fun, by the way.” You admit before standing up, taking his hand. Donghyuck restrains himself from leaning in to even kiss your forehead. He simply nods, holding his lovely smile. “I did too. More than I could imagine…”

Donghyuck hadn’t trespassed during the shower, it felt like a last goodbye of intimacy without any touching. He had talked about things that didn’t matter to you nor to him. Talked about his wife in passing like it was only a ghost inhabiting the house that did no harm. His voice wasn’t warm but it wasn’t unkind either.

You had asked him in between jokes while you blow dried your hair if he often brought women into the room recalling your earlier inquiries. He had denied it with a heaviness as he uttered: “No, my wife would kill me.” You had questioned the meaning but he ignored it to not dwindle the mood again. He wanted to remember you cheerfully before you left the quarters that you later were reassured belonged to him and his wife.

Neither of them had been able to bring any of the swing meet attendees or anyone for that matter unless specified into this room but Donghyuck broke that rule for you because in his words, you were God sent to recover his faith… A faith so cruel that strips you away from him.

He hadn’t walked you out of the room, the heaviness in his chest weighed his every move as he helped you get dressed again. Apologetic for your destroyed stockings and disgusting girdle that you both decided to simply throw away.

If he can will himself to when the day comes…

Instead, Haechan watched you cross the threshold of the bedroom and dwell in the moonlight alone while you calmly walk down the corridor with a tranquility that turns to happiness when Jaemin himself walks out of the neighboring room.

You sweet lovely Jaemin. He greets you with that wide smile that you’ve loved since day one. Glimmering pearly whites and pretty pink lips that part to speak your name ever so fondly. You sigh contently, jumping into his arms like a woman who had been waiting for their lover to return from war. Ignoring the slight stains of rouge on the collar of his shirt.

“Nana,” You sigh contently, kissing his cheek as he grasps your hand to walk down the empty corridor. He doesn’t question your washed hair, he doesn’t question the lack of stockings or makeup, and he doesn’t even frown when seeing the beautifully wrinkled gown he was supposed to enjoy.

His keys jingle in the pocket of his suit jacket, drowning your enthusiastic words. He listens intently, humming as a response and only turning to you when you let silence linger for a bit too long. He’s always been so attentive. Whether it’s due to his career or his loving nature, Jaemin always listened and knew the right thing to say.

Until now.

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself love, it surely looked like it.” He begins, squeezing your hand as you both wobble around the shards of crystal still lingering at the front of the home. It was far darker outside now, not even the moonlight or the sign lights could illuminate the expressions engraved in his face hearing every detail of your rendezvous.

On a safer path, Jaemin lets your hand go. Patting your cheek without looking at you while walking.

“I couldn’t go through it. All I thought about is you.”

Jaemin walks away, calm like he always is. Calm like arrival and calm as he exits. Leaving you behind to be swallowed by the forces of guilt that had corroded your body long before existing. Submerging you in the daunting realization of Jaemin’s perpetual affliction.

“Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?” You joke with her. “I know how important this is to you.” 

“Thank you. I was seriously getting worried you wouldn’t come. I’m so glad you did!” Nabi’s usually chirpy nature curves your lips, chuckling a little. “God, you must be starving. Let’s get you into the kitchen.” 

Nabi leads the way towards her grand, quite impressive kitchen. You have to honestly raise your brows, lips slightly hanging open at the shimmering granite countertops, the sleek induction stove, and the expansive storage space. She surely had an eye for interior design. 

When Nabi told you she and her husband Namjoon would be purchasing a new home, never did you expect a house of this caliber. It was already located in quite the expensive, high-class neighbourhood, but stepping inside to assess the luster yourself felt like a reality check. 

You live nowhere near this luxury. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, I have news.” Nabi dramatically begins, tugging you towards the table of appetizers. You nab a small plate as you choose some posh finger foods, attention shifting towards your best friend. 

“Soooo, some of Namjoon’s co-workers are here.” She playfully bounces her brows, wiggling her shoulders a little to indicate something mischievous. How very Nabi of her, you think. 

“Ah, speaking of Namjoon, I haven’t been able to say hi to him.” 

“And that’s exactly why I’m telling you this.” She sing-songs, much too proud and giddy to not be scheming something evil. 

“Nabi.. what in God’s name did you do?” 

“Nothing! I just wanted to tell you that Namjoon’s with a co-worker right now.” She explains, but soon begins nudging your side as you bite into a cube of Brie. “And guess which co-worker he’s with?” 

You gently raise your brows in question, your round eyes conveying an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ look of inquiry. Nabi ends up huffing in complaint with a  roll of her eyes, suddenly snatching your snack plate from you and placing it down on her table. 

“Wha-Nabi!” 

“You’re coming with me.” She rigidly instructs, clasping onto your wrist and dragging you across her kitchen. You protest against her, grievous over your lonely plate of food. 

“Nabi, are you serious?!” 

“Very. You haven’t said hi to Namjoon yet, and that’s a crime in my household!” She valiantly declares, to which you roll your eyes to the back of your head and unwillingly tag along. 

Nabi tugs you through her house far enough she reaches her living room looking out into her backyard, another show of just how luxurious her new home is. She only stops once you both spot her husband Namjoon, who is indeed speaking to a coworker. The stranger’s suit-cladded back is faced towards you both, your attention falling towards an (objectively) striking Namjoon. His hair is impeccably styled, and he adorns a clean, white dress shirt with a fitting vest. 

“Baby!” Nabi calls her hubby, and Namjoon’s distracted within minutes. 

“Hey, Bee, what’s up?” Namjoon instinctively asks his wife, and it always manages to melt your heart how considerate he is of her. He spots you immediately and waves a hand as he begins approaching you two, his smile dimply and dashing. 

“Hey, Y/N, it’s so great you came!” Namjoon chimes, soon wrapping his big, muscly arms around you for a bear hug. You nearly lose air; he’s gotten huge over the few months you haven’t seen him. You kindly return the embrace, giving his large back a friendly rub. 

Just as you let go, Namjoon gestures towards the co-worker he was speaking to. “Sorry I didn’t get to greet you at the door, Y/N. I was just with a friend. Taehyung-ah!” 

Right then and there, said co-worker of Namjoon swivels around, revealing himself with a charming smile and beautiful, yet fierce eyes that cause every feminine fiber within your being to become attracted. 

This is quite literally the most handsome man you have ever laid witness upon. 

He makes careful, slow strides over to the group, and you can’t help but notice how long and model-like his legs are; the confidence in his steps, the assured posture of his squared shoulders and back, the sharp, cutting edge of his sexy jawline. His brows were strong, lips wide and full, the expression he wore on his face equivalent to the ruler of a kingdom. 

“Yes, Taehyung! Come meet Y/N!” Nabi becomes far too elated, grasping your shoulder. “This is the Taehyung I told you about.” She harshly whispers by your ear, to which you are finally greeted by reality. 

Fuck. 

How could you have become so distracted so as to not recognize the man’s name? Nabi has never shut her trap about him ever since the day she met him, and your eyes shockingly widen once she mutters those words to you. You turn to quietly scold her, but you’re soon interrupted by Taehyung joining the group. 

“Hey, everyone.” 

Fuck, he has a deep voice. 

You’ve always had an uncontrollable attraction towards deep voices. 

That aside, you tug at Nabi’s arms encircling your bicep, gently rebuking her in a (hopefully) discreet voice. 

“Nabi, what the hell? I thought I told you I wasn’t up for this?” 

Clearly, you’re horrid at whispering because Namjoon and Taehyung across from you both fall silent, causing enough awkward tension in the air for Nabi to crack a very fake, deliberately polite smile. 

“Sorry, boys. Would you excuse us?” 

Nabi quickly ensnares your wrist to angrily tug you into a separate room, presuming it’s a guest room. She turns towards you after shutting the door with baffled eyes and firmly crossed arms, evidently pissed. 

“Y/N, what the fuck?!” 

“What, Nabi?” 

“Why would you say that when he was literally right there?” Nabi gestures for emphasis. 

You grievously sigh, despising that you were falling into this frustrating line of discussion again. You know all about this, Taehyung, your best friend has been trying to get on your radar. It’s not exactly exclusive information that you’re single. It’s painstakingly obvious being one of the only unmarried and childless friends among your peers. It’s what makes all of them seek out copious amounts of men for you to finally get hitched with. But there’s always the satirical element to every time you meet any of them; they all usually fall into the same pattern of failure. 

They’re either egotistical assholes that are unknowledgeable on how to take care of a woman, are far too fragile with their masculinity to even earn a smidge of criticism on the way they eat pussy, or are plain jane cookie-cutter corporate dogs. Most of the time, it irks your soul, being left with fickle relationships that end horribly or somewhat okay sex that eventually dwindles out into dry text messages. 

Sure, sometimes you get a good fuck or two in there, but none of that matters anymore. You’re tired of assholes, tired of the same routine of sorry-assed men that can sometimes never even get you to cum. 

Of course, you’re not saying all of this applies to Taehyung. You won’t subject the innocent man to such scrutinizing standards already. From what you knew, he was a kind, respectful and hard-working man. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. There was surely something undeniably intriguing about him, and the sweet rise of his cheeks indicated to you he was indeed a pleasant man; there was no doubt about that. 

But there was just one goddamn thing about him. 

“Nabi, I fucking told you I don’t date investment bankers. You know how I feel about them ever since we found out the pattern of all my failed dates; they were all in finance!” 

“Y/N, c’mon, babe. You can’t hold this prejudiced mindset about all investment bankers, didn’t you see the man? He’s scrumptious!” 

“He’s scrumptious, yes, but I’ll still hold my bias against investment bankers ever since one literally answered a business call when he was balls deep inside me.” 

Nabi sighs, hand to her forehead as she rubs out the figurative stress piling onto her. “Y/N, look. I get it. I know you don’t date guys like him, but… give him a chance, will you? I got to know him, and he’s a sweet guy.” She softes her tone to persuade you, intertwining her fingers with yours to play with them. 

“He has a lot in common with you, and he did say he’d like to meet you.” She speaks through puckered lips to coat her tone with sugary sweetness, honestly loosening up as you watch her doe eyes plead you. “You’d be a good match, Y/N. Just one chance.” 

Perhaps the night would be a disaster, or perhaps you could find someone actually worthwhile; you’d never know if you didn’t try. That, and the combination of Nabi’s puppy-like eyes and adorable pout, do you in, ultimately acquiescing. 

“Fine, fine.. I’ll meet him.” you drawl, to which your best friend springs to life.

Nabi happily bumps a fist in the air as she celebrates, squeaking a series of elated explanations about Taehyung as she leads you out the room and towards this seemingly perfect match of an investment banker. 

“Namjoon, baby, we should probably set up dinner for our guests, don’t you think?” Nabi inserts herself back into Namjoon and Taehyung’s conversation, thanking God he hadn’t left yet after you so rudely whispered about him. 

“Of course, love. We should get going.” Namjoon secretly communicates with his wife through his eyes, his smile growing equally as scheming as hers. God, they’re the perfect match. 

“We’ll see you two around.” Namjoon politely excuses himself and Nabi from you and Taehyung, to which your best friend shoots you a cute wave and wink, and Namjoon similarly flashes a finger gun and suggestive bounce of his brows to Taehyung. 

The displaced pair of you send tentative waves back to your friends, eyes finally, though nervously shifting towards each other. The sheepish two of you gently chuckle then, attempting to cut the nerves and welcome some ease between you. 

“Hi.” Taehyung begins. 

“Hi.” 

Your fingers dig into your Coach wristlet, maintaining a smile. It’s not that you’re anxious, but something about Taehyung automatically makes you assume a shier demeanour, his own exuding a subtle alpha-male power you’ve never felt before. Other men have channeled such power, but only with demeaning or dogmatic intentions; never so subtle and yet, enticing like this. 

“So, it seems you and Nabi had a lot to say, huh?” 

Your eyes immediately go wide, remembering he very clearly heard what you said about him and seemed intelligent enough to fill in the blanks of your private conversation. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry about that. I was just- I wasn’t-”

“Expecting to meet someone new so soon, I get you.” Taehyung considerately offers an answer, to which you honestly feel your heart slow down its erratic beating, your lips curving into a smile of gratitude. 

“I’m Taehyung, by the way, Kim Taehyung.” He extends his hand, introducing himself quite suavely. His deep, baritone voice is what warms you up to him. There’s something so innately soothing about it.

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” You clasp onto his hand, and it’s almost embarrassing how your eyes widen. His hands are huge, his slender, ring-slated fingers long enough to entirely engulf your hand, the expanse of his warm palm wide enough he could most likely grab you with ease. 

You place a pin in that thought before it makes your legs squirm. 

“So..” You clear your throat, releasing him to fish yourself out of your delusions. “Your friends with both Nabi and Joon, huh?”

“Yeah, I work with Namjoon. I just got transferred to his department a few months ago. I’m-”

“An investment banker, right?” You finish for him, to which he puckers his lips with impression, his eyes bright with surprise. 

“Yeah, I am.” He confirmed with a smile, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Is it possible he’s nervous about meeting you, too? You don’t want to toot your own horn, squashing the contemplation. 

“How do you know Nabi?” 

“She’s my best friend. I’ve known her since our first year of high school.”

“Wow, you guys must be-”

“Like peanut butter and jam, yeah.” You both adorn amicable smiles, enjoying the company. Taehyung’s already turning out to be quite pleasant, exhibiting actual manners and social etiquette as you work through small talk. 

It’s almost comedic how even such simple decency seems so rare these days. 

“And you’re a..?” Taehyung suddenly obstructs your thoughts, drawing out his question for you to answer. 

“Oh, I’m studying for my PhD in psychology. Professor is my goal.” 

“Ah, at the university here, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s always been a dream of mine to teach.” You honestly admit, watching Taehyung reveal a quite... breath-taking smile, you notice. He seems thoroughly interested in what you have to say, and you quickly find a liking towards his personable aura. Taehyung’s close to speaking again until a rowdy group of men next to you almost impede on your personal space, instinctively cowering away. 

Taehyung’s eyes shift towards the group, jutting out an arm in between you and the careless stranger. 

“We should probably move.” He instructs, and something about the caramel smooth tone of his voice compels you to do so, to feel safe about it. Taehyung encircles his arm around you, not exactly touching you, but shielding precariously as he moves you both further away from the partygoers. He may not be directly contacting your skin, but the proximity of his presence alone suffuses you with a sense of fiery hormones. 

He smells incredible. 

The pair of you settle beside the backyard door, now much more secluded in the corner of the grand living room. Taehyung retracts his arm then, settling it by his side as he holds his glass of wine while you tuck some hair behind your ear. 

He swishes around the mahogany liquid in his glass, while you twiddle with your fingers. A beat of wary, nearly awkward silence passes until Taehyung bravely breaks the ice.  

“So.. Nabi and Namjoon keep telling me that I should ask you out.” 

There it is, the big elephant in the room. You should’ve known Namjoon was also indoctrinating the idea into Taehyung’s head, being a schemer just like his wife. Namjoon’s obvious encouragement earlier and the tangibly nervous shuffling of Taehyung’s feet was also a tell-tale sign. 

“Oh-please, I’m so sorry about this, but I don’t really date investment bankers.” You admit as courteously as possible. 

“Oh really, now?” Taehyung seems slightly taken aback but handles the information surprisingly well. 

You immediately scramble to clarify things. “Sorry, it’s nothing against you per se... I just-don’t necessarily have a liking towards corporate men.” 

“Ah, I see.” Taehyung charmingly smiles, and something about the curve of his pretty lips makes you want to kiss them. 

No, no.. you can’t have those thoughts. You cannot possibly be thinking about such things when you’re quite literally turning the gorgeous man down.  

“Just not your type, huh?” Taehyung catches your drift, and you let out a sigh of relief for his understanding. 

“Essentially? I’ve just had terrible experiences with them, and I’m not into the whole egotistical capitalist mentality.” 

“I mean,” Taehyung begins, and it’s hard to miss the way his eyes aren’t necessarily kind and polite anymore. They’ve been coloured with a darker shade, his gaze much more piercing, almost wild. “We’re all slaves to capitalism at the end of the day, aren’t we?”

You gulp listening to the slow, alluring cadence of his deep voice, almost as though he was trying to lull you under a spell of his own making. You feel something in the pits of your stomach begin to knot, arousal causing you to fix your legs. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Taehyung narrows his eyes a little as he observes the change in your tone; it’s much more lax, inviting. He takes the opportunity to lean his forearm against the wall you both occupy, taking half a step towards you, and it’s now you realize just how much he towers over you. The impenetrable persona of his climbable body causes you to swallow, shifting your eyes upwards to meet his. 

“Funny you don’t like investment bankers,” he comments with a suave tone. “I’m not really into students.”

Your eyebrows furrow with offence, the possible allusion that you’re a child in his eyes throwing you off. You do remember Nabi mentioning he’s a couple years older than you. 

And that suddenly makes him a thousand times hotter. Fuck. 

“Hey-” but you halt yourself, checking the tone of your voice. “I mean, we’re... all students of something, aren’t we?” You attempt to mirror his earlier comment concerning capitalism, noticing how he lightly smirks at your scrambling.

Is that something he enjoys? Seeing a woman flustered because of him? 

Why is that so insanely hot? 

“Perhaps,” Taehyung tilts his head in half-hearted agreement, eyes dancing over the guests of the party as he takes a slow, leisurely sip of his wine and returns to you. “Though I’m not into how pretentious doctorate students can be.” 

“Hey, I’m not pretentious-”

“And now you know exactly how I feel.”

You open your mouth for a retort but quickly pause. He got you there, your look of defensiveness dismantling into one of amusement, breaking out into a little chuckle. He was trying to get back at you. “I… I’m so sorry.” 

Taehyung similarly laughs, and suddenly the sweet chime of his giggle sounds mellifluous to your ears. “No big deal, I just… feel like changing your mind, Y/N.” He sincerely admits, and you soften at the show of genuity in his look, not so nervous anymore. 

You bite your lip as your eyes flicker towards the ground, feeling courage permeate through you as you meet his gaze once again. You step closer to him, almost leaning into the arm he’s casted against the wall, finding his irises to be a warm, tender colour of coffee. 

“So, here you are at a party drinking an exquisite glass of Merlot compared to the other money-hungry mongers at this party.” You joke. 

“Well, what would the other money-hungry mongers usually be drinking, anyway?” He plays along with a similar tone. 

“You’d usually find them with a glass of Scotch or Canadian Whiskey, tipped off with rocks, of course, because it adds a little more snazz to their parvenu looks, you get me?” 

Taehyung lets out a hearty laugh, joining him as he curtains his mouth with his palm. “Yeah, you’re totally right.” He agrees. 

“But not you… huh?” You won’t deny the suggestion that taints your tone, even bringing your hand to his bicep and just gently caressing him. You watch his eyes follow the action, observing calmly, calculatingly as he returns his gaze to you. He’s much more dangerous, tempting. 

“Not me, Y/N.” 

His reply and the way he recites your name drips with sin, the caramel smoothness of his voice rich enough to want to hear it against your skin. You’re both caught in a moment of simply absorbing each other, observing him bringing a finger to his bottom lip. He rubs slowly as he speaks, drawing your attention towards his mouth. 

“And what about you?”

“What about me, Taehyung?” 

“You have no drink in your hand.. which means you’re either not a drinker or you’ve got somewhere to go tomorrow morning?” Taehyung draws out as he attempts to uncover you, as though he were traversing the map of mystery within your eyes. “Perhaps to see someone..?” 

“Oh, no, I’m not seeing anyone at all.” You immediately respond, squashing that assumption. 

“What a coincidence… me neither.” 

You could feel the tension between you two. It was palpable, so dense even a diamond couldn’t cut through. There were only mere inches between your bodies, having absent-mindedly gravitated towards each other. Something’s compelling you to drag him into a room or get him out of here, to stick by his side the rest of the party until it leads to something riveting tonight. 

But your mind tells you this isn’t a good idea. Sure, despite being an investment banker, Taehyung was certainly sweet and kind, even a delicious man of sin who just looks like he’d let a woman ride his face into the sunset. However, they all seem like that at first until they eventually reveal the beastly, harsh truths behind their unappealing characters, knowing that as much as you feel tempted, whenever you made decisions with your pussy, it didn’t go very well. 

“I um… I’m gonna go find Nabi and see if she needs help with dinner.” You stupidly derail the conversation, Taehyung springing back into his courteous persona from before, as though he were also awakened from a trance. “It was great meeting you, Taehyung.. And I see where our friends think we could be a good match but I just… I don’t think we’re a good idea. I hope you can understand.” 

It’s only right. You don’t date investment bankers, and he’s not into PhD students, it makes perfect sense for you two to not tread any further than this. 

“Yeah, yeah.. Of course.” Taehyung sweetly smiles, not revealing any hurt or immature offence, but rather mutual understanding, thankful he was surprisingly so compassionate.

“It's okay, Y/N. I agree, it only makes sense.” He admits, propping his arm off the wall. “I’ll see you around the party, alright?” 

“Of course, enjoy yourself as well.” You politely reply. 

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.” He considerately bids a farewell, and it honestly feels good to hear such words. 

You kindly wave him off as he lets you go, appreciating how gentlemanly he was, and shooting him a grateful grin. “Take care, Taehyung. I’ll see you around.” 

Taehyung rams you against the front door, his full lips devouring every inch of your hot mouth. He breathes impatiently. 

“When you said see you around, I didn’t think you meant in my apartment.” 

Here you were; dress falling off your shoulders, wine drunk, and shoving your tongue down Kim Taehyung’s throat. You moan, feeling the power of his manhandling, the sheer, rough carnality to his movements absolutely riveting. You remain shoved up against the door of this high-rise apartment, his knee nestled between your legs as his large hands desperately tug your lips onto his. 

“Shut up and kiss me.” You breathe harshly as you dive in for his tongue, impatient with your movements as Taehyung laughs. 

Nabi was the instigator, the goddamn game master of this entire play because if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be licking into Kim Taehyung’s mouth in his luxurious, 17th-floor apartment at 2AM in the morning. 

She’s the one who suggested you all keep drinking her expensive wine, always bringing out another bottle the minute the previous one finished. You didn’t want to make things awkward with Taehyung for the rest of the party, what with him being a quite pleasant man, and a possible, potential friend, so you self-determined your earlier farewell to be temporary. 

He joined you, Nabi and Namjoon in keeping yourselves entertained all night, having laughed, joked and hollered together the more progressively drunk you all became. Nabi was always a schemer, honestly, because she knew wine always made you exponentially horny, and you had already been daydreaming of what Taehyung’s lips would feel like sucking on your throat. 

You don’t need to imagine it anymore, though, because right now, he popped off your mouth to trail kisses along the edge of your jawline, moaning his name as you desperately tugged at his beautiful locks of nearly-raven hair. 

“Fuck, Taehyung..” 

“Y/N..” 

The way he says your name in his deep voice leaves even more arousal pooling in your panties. His lips skim down the column of your throat as you throw your head back, eventually latching onto your pulse point. He lays tender, slow kisses before wrapping his lips completely around your skin, suckling and licking generously. 

Perhaps Nabi isn’t to blame at all when you recall the night. It wasn’t her fault the irreversible sexual tension you and Taehyung had established between each other ever since your conversation. It was lingering, evident, magnetic anytime you two even brushed arms. You didn’t miss the amount of times you caught him already staring at you, that one look of his so alluringly wild; and he could never keep his eyes off the way your legs squirmed anytime he even so much as lowered the tone of his voice. 

Hours of painstaking tension later, you were both outside and near his car. You allowed him to show you the upscale features of his Benz as you watched him with arrant horniness. He just seemed so sexy when he was demonstrating something, so caught up in your arousing thoughts, you actually misstepped and nearly fell over. 

You didn’t, though, because Taehyung immediately wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, and the one, hooded-eyed, tipsy look of lust you gave him caused Taehyung to suddenly pull you flush against his body, and crash his lips against yours. 

Now, you were both hungrily eating at each other, tasting wine and pure desire on each other’s dancing tongues. Taehyung, shortly after his wet kisses along your neck, pulls you off the door. Shoes and your purse are removed along with jackets, Taehyung swiveling you around to walk you back into his apartment. 

You both carefully step back as Taehyung peels off his suit jacket, your hands quickly shredding them off his body too. You trail your red nails all over his chest and torso, nearly angry at his dress shirt, gatekeeping his skin from you. You can feel how deliciously sculpted he is, and it makes your pussy palpitate.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you as he rapidly rips off his tie, disconnecting for a mere millisecond to tug it entirely off until it’s tossed away, grabbing your face once again for messy kisses. 

The pair of you waddle far back enough your back contacts the seamless glass all of a sudden, breaking away to observe your surroundings. You breathe harshly as you take it all in. 

“Windows…” You mumble, every nerve of yours alight with insatiable arousal; you’re pushed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Taehyung’s, you had to admit, beautiful apartment. High ceilings, aesthetic light fixtures, a grand, king-sized bed, sleek and minimalistic furnishing. 

This definitely looked like the apartment of a wealthy man. 

It offers the cityscape as his view, mesmerized by the myriad of lights and moving traffic along the spangly roads, but also, unpreventable openness.  

“Are you okay if we’re against them?” He breathes against your mouth, lips brushing each other’s as his palms press against the window either side of your head. He leans down to your height, and the hooded, flaming look in his eyes makes you throw every care for whoever could possibly see you two right now away. 

You grab his collar and collide your lips with his, allowing your undeniable horniness for him to consume every fiber inside you. 

“Yes, yes Taehyung.” You answer headily, impatiently, and Taehyung immediately engulfs you in an intoxicating, head-spinning kiss once again. 

You were thankful to have worn a dress of pretty thin material, moaning into Taehyung’s mouth as he pins his hips against yours, feeling the impressionable, delicious prodding of his hardened cock. You ignite with passionate fire, pressing your chest against his because the rub of your nipples against him feels heavenly. 

Tongue swirling around each other, Taehyung glides his hands down your body, feeling every inch, curve and divot of your figure, finally settling around your waist. His large palms feel gigantic, but in a way that leaves you excited about what other things he can do with his hands. 

As if reading your mind, they skim down over your dress until he grips your ass, biting your bottom lip as he tugs you closer to his heated body. You release him with a gasp, hands clutching onto his thick neck. 

“I thought you said.. you don’t date investment bankers.” He chides, a ghost of a smirk playing onto his luscious lips. You huff hard enough it fans some hair from your face, lungs full of intoxicating, enthralling intensity. 

“And you’re not into PhD students,” you snark, flipping your hair out of your face. “And technically, we’re not dating. We’re going to fuck.” 

Taehyung immediately hisses with satisfaction. “Damn, a woman who knows what she wants.” 

“And a man that finally knows what he’s doing.” You nearly croak as Taehyung’s deft fingers abandon squeezing your ass cheeks to rather slip underneath the skirt of your dress, the sweet taste of his breath kissing the apple of your cheek. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, I know exactly what I’m doing.” 

His proclamation leaves you keening, at a loss for more air once Taehyung bypasses the band of your panties, and dips right into your sticky, sopping pussy lips. 

He hisses once again in pleasure, speaking deeply against your lips. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” The searing cadence of his tone leaves you gushing more essence, gasping when Taehyung boldly cups your sex in his palm, and a pathetic whimper escapes you. 

“Fuck…” 

“Yeah? You like that?” 

Shit, you can feel blood pumping in your ears and adrenaline coursing through your veins. The way you’re turned on right now is fucking unquantifiable. You haven’t felt this insane in a long time, and it only drives you to relish in Taehyung’s crafty touches more, hands hooking onto his shoulders for moral support. 

He continues rubbing you just like that, smearing your essence all over his hand as he attentively watches your every reaction, groans rolling off his tongue. You throw your head back against the window once Taehyung weaves two fingers through your soaked folds, gliding up your slit until he fondles your quivering clit. You let out a broken gasp, fingers digging into his sturdy shoulders as he begins a gentle sliding motion over your ocean of a pussy. 

“Fuck.. fucking shit, Tae..” 

You don’t even notice you’ve uttered a shortened form of his name, only recognizing the slip up when you feel Taehyung breathe a laugh against your swollen lips. 

“Shit.. I’m sorry-” 

“No, it’s okay.” He just as breathlessly replies, letting out little grunts every time you moan. “Just one thing,” he begins, leaving a wet trail of kisses down your throat until he finds your collarbones, slowly pecking away as his fingers work your pussy like magic. 

“I like hearing my name, but I want you to call me Sir.” 

Fuck, fuck. 

Of course, a man like Taehyung would have something as tremendously sexy as a Sir kink. 

The rumble of his deep voice against your throat leaves you mewling out, hugging his head into the crook of your sensitive neck. 

“Fuck yes, Sir.” Taehyung lets out a shaky groan that indicates the wave of arousal that washes over him, watching him pull back from you to wet his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a moment to breathe, using this as your opportunity to observe the city lights casting a soft glow over him. 

His lips are just as swollen and wet as yours, his hair disheveled after having wildly tugged at it in the backseat of his car, a chauffeur having transported you two here. One of his top buttons had popped open when you desperately clawed at his shirt too. 

He’s sincerely the most stunning man you have ever known. 

You also witness the tight tent in his crotch area and are suddenly filled with a fierce sense of confidence. 

He currently leans against the window, head hung low as he exhales. But you obstruct his moment of meditation, latching a daring hand onto his belt. With a feline-like grin, you tug him towards you by the Calvin Klein belt, catching a look of surprise from Taehyung. 

“Oh fuck..” 

“May I, Sir? You deserve some attention too.” 

You whisper it so seductively, Taehyung releases a deep groan from the back of his throat, the asking of his permission spiking blood towards his dick. You undo his belt with your flawless, ruby nails, and Taehyung peeks down to watch you do so. He cocks a brow at the skill he sees, observing with a sexy smirk. You tear his belt open and loosen his pants, diving inside his boxers to feel at the beast he’s hiding inside, and dear God, are you in for a fucking treat. 

He’s big, and you didn’t expect anything less. 

Your surprise seems to capture his attention, feeling the breath of his laugh fan your cheek. 

“You’ve got a cute face when you react to things, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you, Sir. You’re just so...” 

“Big?” Taehyung laughs, and you join him with a chuckle before you traverse further, and find the thick, meaty shaft of his cock. Taehyung folds with a groan as his face dips into your neck, enjoying the delicious sounds of his weakness. 

You waste no time in freeing him from his dress pants, Taehyung helping you along and curling his hand around your much smaller one. You both begin pumping him together. 

“Fuck..” he curses against your neck, and you conjure up all the willpower possible to not gobble him up like a five-course meal this instant. You splay your fingers over the back of his neck, tugging him closer as your lips envelop his pulse point for tasteful, intimate neck-kissing. You move your hand over Taehyung’s divine length in accordance with his own, guiding you to utilize the speed he likes. It’s so goddamn sexy; you moan against his neck and pump him faster. 

He’s leaking incessant pre-cum, but the dryness of his cock leaves you devising other plans, removing your hand. Taehyung huffs as though he’s pulled out of a trance, and before he can ask, you drop to your knees, fingers hooking onto the band of his bottoms. 

His pupils nearly physically dilate, eyebrows raising with rampant impression. You shoot him a look from below, eyes dressed suggestively as you tug his garments further down, and wrap a hand around his cock. 

Giving him a few pumps, you jut your tongue out to lick a slow, long stripe up the underside of his shaft, meeting his tip to swivel around and catch a heady taste of his pre-cum. Taehyung groans beautifully, bouncing off the walls of his apartment as he throws his head back. 

“Fuckkk” he draws out, fingers weaving into your hair for leverage. You moan once his tip is in your mouth, kitten-licking his slit and watching his Adam’s apple bob, the column of his throat enough of a masterpiece to have been crafted by Greek Gods. 

He gently thrusts into your mouth once your lips envelop him, sinking down on his engorged, red-tipped member as you hollow your cheeks. He lets out a string of curses once you bury him deep, his tip smothered by the fleshy back of your throat, and he immediately keens. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N.. just like that.” 

You hum in satisfaction, which causes Taehyung’s blown out eyes to meet you beneath. You maintain eye contact as you draw yourself out, and slowly swallow his thick, veiny length once again. His reactions grow weaker every time, relishing in the power you hold and beginning to bob your head a bit, crafting a pace he seems to like, slobbering all over his erect cock. 

He moans, deep-throating once before popping off, a lewd string of saliva breaking. He seems headily into it, boosting your ego, but when you move to drag your tongue across his balls, Taehyung gives you a soft push back, rejecting you. 

You furrow your brows and look up at him, puzzled. But before you can ask anything, Taehyung helps you to your feet and crashes his lips against yours, the power strong enough to shove you back up against the window. You breathe in his kiss, swiveling your slipper tongues around each other before he breaks away, saliva prevalent all over your lips. 

“I need a taste, too.” He breathes against you, your mind losing circuitry the second his lips meet your throat. He presses electrifying, hot kisses down your neck, the valley of your breasts, your midriff and stomach until his knees fasten onto the ground. 

You meet his bewitchingly smug look below you as his fingers travel up the sides of your thighs, casting your skirt away from your pussy to reveal your soaked panties. Taehyung doesn’t waste his time in stuffing his nose against your dampened folds, catching a heady whiff of your essence and letting out a soft hum from the back of his throat. The rumble travels up your core and nestles into the pit of your stomach, knotting the coil inside you as you gush a waterfall.

His fingertips hook onto your panties and tug them off, revealing your nearly sodden pussy to a hungry Taehyung, who wets his lip. Without a single prompt, he locks eyes with you above, and slowly casts your thigh over his shoulder, drawing his face towards your sex and wrapping his lips around your cunt. 

The wet contact of his tongue sets you ablaze, skin flushed and hot as your nails scratch at his window, the most erotic of moans spilling from you. He groans the second he catches a taste of you, tongue slithering through your folds as he amply sucks on your labia. 

“Shit… you taste sweet as fuck.” His deep voice resonates through your heat, eyes watching him as he stuffs his sexy face between your legs. You sigh obscenely against his window, using it as your only leverage to stay upright as he makes you weak in the knees. 

His tongue feels Godly, driving your hips over his face to shamelessly ride, and he welcomes you with an indulgent moan. It’s as though he enjoys his mouth being stuffed full of pussy, and you can’t help but feed into his heavenly work. 

Your fingers slot through his locks, tugging at him as intense pleasure overwhelms your system, rolling your hips against his mouth until high-pitched, heightened moans leave your lips. It means you’re getting close, and something about the way the bridge of Taehyung’s nose presses and rubs against your clit works wonders for your building orgasm. 

It’s coming, you’re blanking, and he’s eating you so passionately and methodically, you knew this would be your undoing. Your eyes are squeezed shut, reciting a mantra of Taehyung’s name and the hot title of sir that only spurs him on, losing your mind. 

“Taehyung, Sir, fuck, fuck!” 

His large hands grope your ass as he practically makes out with your pussy, tongue weaving through and around your engorged clit, and just as you grip him with a warning of your coiling orgasm, Taehyung stops. 

Air is sucked out of your lungs, peering downwards to breathe erratically. 

“Tae, what the fuck-” But you’re met by his lips when he springs to his feet, tasting yourself on his glistening lips as he sloppily makes out with you. He then props you off the window and spins you around, roughly pinning your front against the cool glass as you gasp. 

“Tae..” 

“Did you just say my name?” 

Taehyung then rips open the zipper of your dress and loosens the top enough it’ll inevitably slide down and reveal your bare breasts to the goddamn world. Taehyung wraps an arm around you from behind and cradles your stomach, lips by your ear. 

“I thought I told you to call me Sir.” 

“Yes, I’m sorry, Sir.” You immediately apologize, the heat of Taehyung’s breath invoking innate submission. “I was… just surprised.” 

“Still okay against the window?” He asks. 

You bite your lip with a harsh nod, hot arousal heating up your skin. 

Taheyung then tears off the top, hiking up the skirt of your dress as he shoves his crotch against yours, hard cock heavy on your ass. His heated breaths fan your ear, Taehyung casting away the hair on your shoulder to access the sweet spot behind your lobe. He kisses tenderly and yet, wildly as he fists his wet cock behind you, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Put it in, Sir, fuck.” You desperately request. 

“Condom?” 

“Just fucking pull out. I can’t wait.” You wave him off, breaths rampant and needy. 

“Mmm, guess doctorates don’t learn patience, huh?” 

“And bankers don’t learn haste, fuck me right now.” 

Taehyung scoffs, and you want to say something, but when he pushes the bulbous, leaking tip inside you, you both let out harmonious, pleasurable groans that leave your nipples hardening and his dick leaking even more pre-cum. 

“Shit… you’re fucking wet, and tight.” 

“Fuck, you’re big, Sir. So big.” 

Taehyung likes the sound of that because a low growl and his palm fully engulfing a breast later, he’s tugging your hips back to sink himself inside, voice dangerously husky against your neck. 

“Do you care about marks?” 

“No, not fucking at all.” 

And Taehyung dives for your neck like a starved vampire, sucking wet, plum-coloured hickies over your pulse point as he bottoms out inside, filling your pussy up with his throbbing, divinely girthy cock. You moan against the window, nipples perfectly rubbing against the smooth, pristine glass and relishing in the arousal it speckles throughout your nervous system. 

Taehyung leaves no room for playing around, and begins slowly thrusting his delicious cock inside your gushing sex, your slippery, welcoming walls smothering his cock with arrant, uncontrollable arousal. 

“Fuck.. oh fuck.” Your moan hitches in your throat as Taehyung rides the wave of desperation, of searing, hot passion as he sucks all over your neck. You’re sure he’s going to leave purple blossoms across your skin, but right now, all you can focus on is the way his hips smack against your ass, your hand grappling onto his head dipped into your neck, tugging at his locks as you sigh like a pornstar. 

His kisses feel enchanting, his dick magical, and the way he fondles your tit is otherworldly, causing you to become completely lost in the stars you see behind your eyes and the breath-taking cityscape before you. 

Carnality overrides your entire body, turning your head to instead request Taehyung’s lips for rough, harsh kissing. Your lips and teeth smash against each other then, absolutely in unison with his hips slapping against you, his hands encasing your torso as he gives it to you from behind like a champ. 

“Fuck, Sir.. Oh, fuck me.” 

“Yeah? You want it like that?” 

“Yes, Sir, oh God.” You grit through your teeth as he pulls back the flesh of your bottom lip, nothing but your breathy moans and groans heard in the sizable apartment. 

You reach even further back and begin tugging at the collar of his dress shirt, hating that he’s still wearing fucking clothes. 

“Take this off, take this fucking off.” You ramble, Taehyung paying heed to your request within seconds and letting go to peel back his shirt, casting it off before his fingers curl around the hem of your dress. 

“Lift up your arms, sweetheart.” 

You’re not sure if it’s him calling you sweetheart that makes you so docile and pliant, but you follow his instruction and Taehyung strips your dress off, soon throwing it onto the floor. You’re both naked now, Taehyung having removed his pants and boxers in exchange to feel the heat of your skin. 

The warmth of his broad, smooth chest presses against your back, and the new feeling of his body heat causes you to moan indulgently, hands curling against the window. But you don’t have time to think, because Taehyung draws his pulsing length out of your fluttering pussy to turn you around, facing him. 

He’s equally as flushed and heated as you are, the gentle city lights exposing the sweaty glow to his dewy skin. Taehyung reaches his hands down for the back of your thighs, and you know exactly what he wants before he even has to say it. 

You leap into his arms, hands weaving into the feathered hair on the nape of his neck. 

“Let’s get you on my bed, sweetheart.” 

Taaehyung leans forwards for kisses, and you meet him for shameless make out as he walks you two towards his grand bed. He doesn’t toss you onto the sheets as though you’re a ragdoll, not that you would mind something like that, but he instead sits himself down with you perched on his lap, disconnecting for air. 

You peer down at his cock to make sure he’s still hard, wrapping a hand around him for generous pumps. Taehyung wraps his hand around yours and helps you, both of you fisting him together as his hooded-eyes remain fixated on you, and your eyes glow with sheer desire as you hold his gaze. 

You spring up onto your knees and Taehyung pulls his bottom lip between his teeth with a smirk, lining his cock up with your entrance and whispering against your wet lips. 

“Ride me like you mean it, doctor.” 

You huff at the deliberate emphasis on your future title, scraping your nails down his unblemished chest. 

“If you can even make me cum, Mr. Banker.” 

Taehyung scoffs, and before anyone can further the argument, Taehyung guides your hips down over his cock, and he invades you for the second time tonight. This position feels eons better; your breasts pressed up against his warm, smooth chest, his cock stretching your pussy wide open. You moan loudly as Taehyung huskily grunts out, who is settled against the headboard of his bed as you grip onto his shoulders. 

He entirely spears you over his cock then, and the way he fills you up leaves him impeding on your fucking cervix, letting out a shaky moan. 

“Fuck, fuck..” 

“You okay?” He asks as a hand clutches your shoulder blade, maintaining his rugged breaths. 

“Yeah, just-give me a second.” You breathe through the ache of his intrusion. You can feel him everywhere in this intimate position. Still, the pain feels good, and not long after you peck a kiss on Taehyung’s lips, you nod to him. 

“Okay, okay.. you can move.” 

Taehyung listens immediately and soothes his hands over your hips, helping you lift them off his crotch until you smash back down over him, a broken sigh escaping you. 

“Shit..” Taehyung curses, fingertips gripping your body hard. 

You repeat the action, then again, then again and again until you’ve developed a deliciously fast, wild rhythm, Taehyung’s hands slipping over your supple ass to grope and smack to his desire as he fucks you over his cock. He even drives up from underneath, and it leaves you keening, trading his shoulders for the headboard as you clasp on for dear life. 

But Taehyung isn't fond of that, grabbing your wrists and weaving them around his neck, eyes wild when he says, “hold onto me, sweetheart.” 

You fold, biting back a pathetic moan as she returns to gripping your body in place, impaling you from underneath as you work tirelessly over his thick, elongated dick. You feel so full, so satisfyingly filled to the brim your walls are quaking to release the orgasm he denied earlier, whimpering pitifully. 

It’s sinful the way he not only grasps you but slams upwards into your cunt as he presses your hips down, stuffing even your stomach as you cry out against him. Your face falters into his neck, relentlessly irving all over his throbbing cock as the friction against his abdomen supplies you the right rub for your pulsing clit. 

Taehyung takes your sudden weakness to mean you’re tapping out, which you are because he’s entirely a beast compared to you. He’s moaning and groaning like a mad man, watching your tits bounce as you repeatedly plummet over his cock. 

“Fuck, so gorgeous when you bounce, sweetheart.” He praises with a heady groan when you stuff yourself completely, the confines of your pussy driving him insane. He bites back a string of curses as you sigh erotically, nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t fucking a mind a single bit. 

Your groins and thighs are already burning as your moans heighten in pitch. Taehyung suddenly wraps his arms around to embrace you close, hand splayed in between your shoulder blades as he cradles you and unforgivingly drills into your sex from underneath. 

You gasp so loudly, his neighbours are certainly tired of hearing you. You scream and beg, losing your fucking mind as you feel your pussy walls spasming around him. 

“Fuck me, Shit, fuck me!” 

“Yeah? You want more? Say it!” 

“Sir, I need more, please!” 

You’re both animals now, holding yourself before Taehyung’s face as he rams into your leaking, slippery sex. Taehyung sneaks a hand over your visibly pulsing mound and supplies you the relief you so desperately need. You release a drawn out, heady moan as obscenely as possible when he does, relishing in the ridges and veins and shape of his delicious cock fucking you wildly as your orgasm approaches, filling up inside your gut. 

It coils, your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut, and your body shakes, legs quaking as Taehyung concentrates on stimulating your clit. He’s hissing and grunting, containing his load almost painfully as he senses your body beginning to convulse. 

“Oh shit, you’re gonna cum, huh?” He breathes against you. “Cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna see it.” He finally, stuffs himself so deep inside you, the gates of your impending release burst mightily open. 

A whimpering moan erupts from you, and you squeeze Taehyung’s so infinitely tight he begins to panic. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Taehyung throatily grunts. “Where do you want it?” 

You’re still lost, in a post-orgasm daze as you gush gops of essence all over his violently throbbing dick. You’re only pulled off your cloud nine when Taehyung worryingly taps your breast and alarms you. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna cum any second,” he warns you, repeating urgently. “Where do you want it?” 

“In my mouth.. in my mouth.” You ramble, hopping off his dick and immediately assuming an all-fours position, sticking out your tongue and wrapping your hand around his pulsing shaft. 

Taehyung pushes himself into your mouth and tangles his fingers in your hair, sinking you down on his length. He begins fucking into your throat as heady, unabashed moans and groans leave him, hearing them mellifluously heighten as he nears his high. He rams into your hollowed mouth, fucking it open as he chases his euphoric high relentlessly until his load releases inside your throat. 

You moan as his hot seed floods you, tasting his cum for all its sweet glory. Taehyung actually loosens his hand on your head here instead of shoving you down over his length. It confuses you momentarily, but realize he’s presenting you the option of not swallowing if you don’t want to. That sweet sentiment alone drives you to, without hesitation, swallow his cum as plentiful as you can. 

Popping off his member with flustered cheeks and heavy breathing, you know your face is a hot mess, meeting Taehyung with hooded, tired eyes as he similarly comes down his high, leaning back on his palms. He wets his lips before cradling your chin in his palm, tipping his own to take a closer look at your mouth. 

“Fuck, open.. your mouth.” He breathes, his chest rising and falling as sweat sexily coats his skin. Your lips fall open and reveal an empty mouth, Taehyung adorning a proud side smirk that showcases his teeth. 

“Swallowed without hesitation.. you’re nasty.” He comments, and you shoot back just as smugly with a coquettish grin. 

“Eating me out and fucking me against a window? You’re kinky.” 

He laughs, and you soon join him, giggling together before collapsing face first against his thigh, and Taehyung’s hand lands over your bare back with a huff. 

Morning sunlight spilled radiantly into Taehyung’s apartment, welcomed by the bright light reflecting off his white furnishing as you awakened. Eyes fluttering open, you find your head nuzzled against Taehyung’s bare chest, his arm cushioning your body as he loosely clutches you, his face turned away as he sleeps. 

You grumble as you’re woken up by the abundance of annoying light, last night’s wild escapade probably too tiring for Taehyung to remember to shut his curtains. Said man also stirs underneath you as you prop off his chest and onto an elbow, watching him rub a heavy eyelid as they blink open. 

He turns towards you, and you both sleepily regard each other. 

“Fuck, I forgot to shut my curtains, didn’t I?” 

His deep, raspy morning voice shocks you, nodding with a sleepy pout, and Taehyung gently laughs as he reaches over towards his night table. He removes the arm underneath you and pries open the first draw, digging around until he pulls out a remote and presses something, to which his blinds begin to cover his windows. 

You raise your brows with light surprise, Taehyung returning the remote to plop back down in bed, tucking his hands underneath his head. You hate that it makes his bulky biceps appear meatier. 

He shuts his eyes again, desiring to indulge in more sleep, but you feel far too awake now. With a yawn, you entirely sit up, holding his duvet over your naked breasts. 

“Are you okay with me making breakfast?” You query, hoping that he is because you’re honestly famished. 

He speaks with his eyes closed, voice amused. “If you’re a good cook, then yes.” 

You snicker a little, shooting a narrow-eyed look his way. “I’m probably much better than you, investment banker.” 

His eyes flutter open to that, watching you with an entertained smirk. “I’ll have you know I make impeccable eggs, professor.” 

You roll your eyes. “Please, you’d probably never be able to make them sunny side down the way I like.” 

Taehyung suddenly springs up onto his elbows, shooting you a look of genuine surprise, eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, you like your eggs sunny side down too?” 

You pucker your lips with a confused chuckle. “Uhh, yeah I do.” 

“Sorry, I’ve just.. never met a single other person who likes them sunnyside down instead of up.” 

“What? Don’t tell me you also listen to some.. I don’t know.. Dean Martin or Sammy Davis Jr. when you’re cooking them too.” 

Now Taehyung entirely rises into a seated position, lips hung open with shock. “Holy fuck… you listen to Jazz too?” 

Now it’s your turn to widen your eyes with surprise, both of you replicating each other’s unbelieving looks. “No goddamn way, now if you tell me something like a movie you’ve been looking forward to seeing and it matches mine… we’ll have a situation on our hands.” 

“Okay, we’re gonna count backwards from three; tell me the movie’s name.” Taehyung instructs. 

“Okay.” You nod, both of you turning towards each other to focus. 

“3.. 2.. 1.. Billie Holiday.” Both of you immediately gasp, as though you just had the most shocking revelation of the 21st century. 

“No way, this isn’t possible. You have to be lying.” Taehyung becomes disbelieving of your similarities, laughing it off. 

“I’m not lying at all, Tae. I have no reason to.” 

“I don’t either.” 

You both take a moment to soak in the information, until you break out into an ironic laugh. “Fuck, Joon and Nabi were right. We really should date each other.” 

Taehyung cocks a brow with a pleased smirk, lazily leaning onto an elbow, and you admire him in his beautiful, shirtless glory. “I thought you said you don’t date investment bankers because you have terrible experiences with them?” 

“Eh, last night wasn’t a terrible experience.” You shrug, fluttering your eyelashes and similarly leaning on your elbow like him, mirroring his smile. “I can take a risk or two.” 

Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.

For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while. 

As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content. 

After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth. 

“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”

He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”

Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”

“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”

“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”

“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”

At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”

“Including you?”

Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.

Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.

You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.

As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.

You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty. 

He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.

In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder. 

Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.

“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”

Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.

Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.

When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”

You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you. 

“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”

Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach. 

“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”

He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”

Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.

You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”

He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.

“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”

“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”

At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”

When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels. 

“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”

His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”

The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”

“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.

The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”

Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.

You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”

“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”

Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”

The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”

He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”

You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”

The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”

You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”

The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”

Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”

“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people. 

You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”

The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face. 

His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”

Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see. 

There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing. 

“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.

You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”

He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”

“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”

Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”

Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.

 “You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”

He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’. 

It’s comical, honestly. 

Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot. 

“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”

Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”

Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?”

He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”

“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”

For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.

He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”

He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”

Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are. 

The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit. 

The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time. 

You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry. 

Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.

A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care

Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.

You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings. 

A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.

“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”

“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”

Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”

Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point. 

“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.

“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”

“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…

Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.

He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.

“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.

It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you. 

You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief. 

“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”

Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.

Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.

When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it. 

That leaves the very front or the very back. 

You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?” 

He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”

Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”

“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle. 

The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put. 

PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.

Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”

“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”

“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”

You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half. 

Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you. 

Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.

Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.

Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first. 

It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.  

Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward. 

It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.

You hope that you feel natural to him too.

He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that. 

Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh. 

Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs. 

“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”

You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”

He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”

You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.

Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours. 

Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.

From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying. 

Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.

The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.

He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses. 

When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”

Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”

He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey. 

Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”

You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out. 

The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive. 

Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges. 

You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.

“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”

It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”

You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.

“Have you always this charming?”

“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”

“One person…that’s all you got?”

Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”

After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore. 

So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question. 

Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.

Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years. 

The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”

“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”

“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”

Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs. 

“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing,  for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”

“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too. 

You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.

“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”

“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you. 

“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”

Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”

He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”

He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”

“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”

It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in. 

First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly. 

It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.

Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back. 

“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”

“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.

“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”

“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”

“Oh?”

He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”

“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.

“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.

“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”

He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”

“Do what you have to do I suppos-”

“Niiccceee hickey.”

You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”

Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”

“What thing?” 

Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape. 

You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”

Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”

“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.

He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?” 

Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”

“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”

“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.

Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”

“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”

Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”

Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.

“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”

“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.

“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”

“Who’s a freak?”

All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin. 

“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.” 

You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering. 

“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”

Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-” 

“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door. 

Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”

“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”

Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.

Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”

Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”

When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.

“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.

Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker. 

Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”

He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”

“Make a move tonight?”

Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”

Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”

Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”

He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”

“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”

Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.

He’s handed out enough advice for one night.

You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention. 

It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants. 

He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear. 

The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties. 

Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them. 

Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”

You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”

Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.

“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”

“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”

“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”

It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”

Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”

Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”

….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.

You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears. 

Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”

“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”

You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”

He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”

“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”

He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.

It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns. 

“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”

“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”

“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”

Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it. 

“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”

“Can’t say I have. What about you?”

Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”

He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”

“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.

“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.

“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”

The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”

“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”

He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.

As luck has it, you decide for him.

“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”

Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”

“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”

“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”

You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”

“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”

It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time. 

It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door. 

Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”

Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers. 

Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”

You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”

You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”

He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”

“You read Cosmo?” 

He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”

“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.

Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”

You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later. 

Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space. 

He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.

The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you. 

“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.” 

Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”

He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back. 

Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.  

“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”

“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”

“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”

Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over. 

His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him. 

You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys. 

Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle. 

The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go. 

A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively. 

Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel. 

Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet. 

Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation. 

“You like that, huh?”

It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.

“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”

You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…

Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”

At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.

His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture. 

You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.

It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.

Hopefully.

Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process. 

“That was very smooth.”

You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.

“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”

Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours. 

He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again. 

Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.

He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk. 

It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone. 

You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind. 

Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red. 

It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon. 

You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”

Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.

Move over Marky Mark. 

You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…

And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.

When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”

You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt. 

It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.

One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.

Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs. 

Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”

“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand. 

The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”

The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”

“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”

That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat. 

The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”

Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.

You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it. 

Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper. 

Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper. 

He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.

His body is on an entirely different page. 

Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way. 

So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.

“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.

Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.

The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy. 

It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes. 

Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up. 

Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds. 

With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all. 

Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip. 

He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do. 

“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”

You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare. 

“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”

“How good?” he smirks. 

With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”

He’s on top of the world. 

“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”

“Will you stop when I do?”

“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”

You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.

“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”

Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”

“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.

He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”

Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”

He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”

Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him. 

The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it. 

Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.

As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?

“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”

“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”

You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”

“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”

“Swing the spinnnning stem~”

Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.

You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way. 

The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”

Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”

Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”

 “Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”

He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”

They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”

And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”

And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes. 

He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting. 

“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”

“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”

Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”

Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”

Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends. 

“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”

“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.

“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”

Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’

Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you. 

Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”

You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”

Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing. 

“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”

“I can try to find you som-”

You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.

“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”

Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”

“I like them,” you grin.

His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”

You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”

Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”

You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”

“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”

“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”

He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”

Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”

Thanks for reading! 💖

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