#mingyu sub

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

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

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

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

play pretend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have fun, baby

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

Love you

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, I’ll try

I love you too

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

Have you talked to him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have fun.

Take your mind off things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You loved your friends. You loved Mona.

But you hated nights like this.

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

It felt like you were suffocating in inexplicable shame.

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

“Are you ready for this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And suddenly, it felt like old times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi. Can you come get me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On my way. Hang tight baby

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

Wonwoo’s phone rang only once.

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

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you drink?” he asked curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nervous? Why?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Without the ice cream,” you nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ten-piece nuggets,” Mingyu mumbled again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged. “I thought—never mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A toothbrush.

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you mumbled, approaching him cautiously.

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu didn’t even flinch. “When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he said.

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

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

“You didn’t say anything.”

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

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

Your tummy clenched. “Mingyu—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniffled. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded. “Okay,” you repeated.

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

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

He gave the tiniest nod.

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

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

You blinked at him quite dumbly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stopped in your tracks when you heard him.

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

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

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

“I won’t be long,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wonwoo?” you prompted.

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded. “Yes, Wonwoo. I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

But then, your eyes fell on him.

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

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

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

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

You hesitated. “Want coffee?”

Mingyu nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You waited for him to let you know his deliberation.

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

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

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

And things felt… different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?”

“Mmn?” you looked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blew a raspberry in the air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only a little,” you joked.

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

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

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

You made a face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me one more,” he instructed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You clenched your jaw.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweaty?” you replied with a meek giggle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You haven’t talked to him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what?” he replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart stuttered. “Wonwoo—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wonwoo…” you said, your tone shaky. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then he walks in,” you said.

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

You nodded. “Just like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You locked eyes with him again. “What—”

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

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

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

Wonwoo enjoyed this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. And sore,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he cum inside you last night?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Wonwoo—yes,” you mewled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your hand,” Wonwoo said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The front door to the apartment had clicked shut.

Your breath hitched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But perhaps you should’ve known better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you wanted to crash down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But everything clicked in one second.

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

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

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

You nodded again, slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They both loved you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you were completely entranced now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Please, Gyu. Now,” you urged.

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

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

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

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

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

They both loved you.

You loved them both. 

☾ author's note: heeeeeeello

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

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

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

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

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

toodles!

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

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

"Easy," you think to yourself, a small smile tugging at your lips. Your name is consistently at the top of all your class grade scores. This should be a walk in the park.

But then there’s Mingyu. You and Mingyu are always neck and neck academically. Your rivalry isn’t born out of animosity, but there’s a real tension between the two of you. It’s as if the universe decided to pair you up as academic sparring partners.

As you sit in the lecture hall, the announcement still fresh in your mind, you can’t help but glance over at Mingyu. He’s already deep in thought, probably planning his volcano. Typical. You shake your head and chuckle quietly to yourself.

The whole college is buzzing with talk about the upcoming science fair. Everyone seems to have an opinion on who’s going to make the best volcano and walk away with the prize. Your name comes up a lot, but so does Mingyu’s, along with a few other students. The competition is heating up.

One afternoon, you’re in the library when Mingyu saunters over, a cocky grin on his face.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, leaning casually against the table. “I hope you’re ready to lose. My volcano is going to blow yours out of the water.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a spark of irritation. “Oh, really? And what makes you so sure?”

He shrugs, his grin widening. “Just a hunch. You might as well not even bother showing up.”

You narrow your eyes, your competitive spirit ignited. You didn’t intend for this to be such a cutthroat competition. It doesn’t even affect your grade; you just wanted the prize. But now, with Mingyu’s teasing, you’re ready to do whatever it takes to win. Even if it means cheating.

The week before the fair, you’re working overtime. Your room is a chaotic mix of clay, paint, and scientific paraphernalia. Not only are you perfecting your volcano, but you’re also hatching a plan to sabotage Mingyu’s. You overheard him mentioning he’s going to use bicarbonate for his lava. Perfect.

It’s late one evening when you spot Mingyu in the hallway. He’s carrying a bag of supplies, looking as smug as ever. You can’t resist the urge to confront him.

“Hey, Mingyu,” you call out, walking up to him. “I hope you’re not getting too confident. You might just be setting yourself up for disappointment.”

He stops, turning to face you. “Oh, please. I’ve got this in the bag. Maybe you should focus more on your project instead of worrying about mine.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I am focused. More than you know. Just don’t come crying when you lose.”

Mingyu’s expression darkens, and he steps closer. “You know, for someone who claims to be so good, you sure talk a lot of trash. Maybe it’s because deep down, you’re scared you’re not as great as you think.”

Your blood boils, and you take a step forward, closing the distance between you. “Watch it, Mingyu. You might be good, but you’re not unbeatable.”

“Neither are you,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with irritation.

The tension is thick, and for a moment, it feels like you might actually come to blows. But then a passing professor gives you both a stern look, and you back off, muttering under your breath.

That night, your resolve hardens. You’re going to win this. You’ll work doubly hard on your volcano and ensure Mingyu’s project doesn’t go as planned.

On the day of the fair, the hall is packed with students and faculty, all eager to see the displays. You manage to sneak into the lab when no one’s around before the presentations begin. You swap the bicarbonate inside Mingyu’s volcano for salt, ensuring his project will be a complete flop.

Your volcano stands proudly, a testament to your hard work and determination. As you watch Mingyu set up his project, you can’t help but smirk, knowing what’s coming.

When the time comes for the demonstrations, you go first. You add the substances, and your volcano erupts perfectly. The foam drips beautifully over the clay, drawing gasps and applause from the other students. The professor praises you, saying, “Perfect as always, Y/N.”

You beam with pride, soaking in the admiration. As you watch Mingyu with crossed arms, you can’t resist a little tease. “Good luck, Mingyu. You’re gonna need it.”

He gives you a sharp look but then turns his attention to his volcano, the picture of confidence. 

But as soon as he adds the final ingredient, nothing happens. 

The salt just mixes with the vinegar, and the expected eruption is a complete failure. Mingyu gives a strained smile to the professor, who watches with disinterest, as he tries to stir the mixture, but nothing happens.

The crowd murmurs, and you see Mingyu’s face fall. You look on from your table, feeling a rush of satisfaction. As Mingyu continues to fumble with his project, you walk out like nothing happened, feeling no guilt at all. 

Your name is called as the winner, and you step forward to accept the prize. As you hold the trophy, you feel a surge of triumph. Maybe this rivalry has gone too far. But for now, you’re on top, and that’s what matters. The envelope with the $500 is in your hand.

As you leave the university building, you slip the envelope into your bag. Some students congratulate you, and you give them your best smile as you advance to your car. Turning the key in the ignition, you glance at the group sitting by the fountain. There, a very frustrated Mingyu sits with his friends Joshua and Wonwoo, who are trying to comfort him. You look over your shoulder at them before getting into your car and driving away.

Over the next few days, the campus buzzes with talk about the volcanoes—mostly about your perfect eruption and Mingyu’s epic fail. Every time you stumble upon him in the hallway, you flash a devilish grin, ready to tease him, but he just walks away, mumbling an apology.

Was this really too much? You begin to wonder. The comments about the science fair slowly die down within the week, but Mingyu remains resentful. This puzzles you. Determined to confront him, you find him alone in the grandstand, reading some books.

You sit down beside him. He immediately starts gathering his things, but you hold his book down, stopping him.

“Are you really going to be all pitiful because of this stupid science fair?” you ask, your tone sharper than intended.

He huffs, looking up at you with frustration. “What do you want, Y/N? You want me to congratulate you? Fine. Congratulations! I don’t know what the fuck you did with that stupid money, but I wanted it. I really wanted that $500. Is that what you want to hear?”

You stay in shock, his words and tone catching you off guard. You and Mingyu have never argued like this before. You've never seen him lose his cool.

“Mingyu, I—”

But he doesn’t let you finish. He gathers the rest of his books and stands up, looking down at you with anger.

“You know what? Forget it. Just forget it,” he mutters before walking away, leaving you alone in pure disbelief.

Why did Mingyu want that money so badly? You try to ask some of your classmates, but no one knows. As you walk out of the university door, you hear Joshua's voice nearby. Glancing around, you see him apparently alone. Deciding to take the moment, you approach him.

“Hey, Joshua,” you say, trying to sound casual. “Can I ask you something?”

He looks up, surprised, but nods. “Sure, what’s up?”

You ask, “Do you know why Mingyu wanted that $500 so much?” 

Joshua frowns, contemplating whether or not to reveal the reason. After a moment, he breathes out and says, “Mingyu is a volunteer at a dog shelter. He wanted to use the money for a dog adoption campaign there.”

Your shoulders fall. “That’s why he wanted the money so badly?“

Joshua nods. “Yeah, he’s been volunteering there for years. He’s really dedicated to those dogs.”

Back at home, you sit on your bed, staring at the envelope on your bedside table. You haven’t even used the money yet. Closing your eyes, the regret beats at your door, relentless and insistent. You grab your notebook and start stalking Mingyu's social media.

When you pull up his LinkedIn, you see that he’s been volunteering at the kennel for five years. There are countless photos of him playing with puppies and grown dogs, some with disabilities, some older. Your heart clenches at the sight.

As you scroll through the photos, you see the joy and love on Mingyu's face, surrounded by the dogs he cares so deeply about. The realization hits you hard—his frustration and anger weren’t just about losing a competition. They were about losing the chance to help those dogs, to make a change.

You look back at the envelope, untouched and alone. The victory that once felt so sweet now tastes bitter.

You know what you have to do. 

The next morning, Mingyu arrives at the dog shelter, adjusting his volunteer shirt on his torso. He greets Mrs. Lee, who immediately coos at him.

“Why are you here today, Mingyu? It's Saturday, the sun is shining. You should be hanging out with your friends.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I was planning to make up some extra hours here and help with the donations later.”

Mrs. Lee's eyes light up, and she claps her hands. “No need for that, dear. A kind lady came by today and covered the donation. She gave us $500! Isn't that great?”

Mingyu frowns in confusion. Donations of that size are unusual for this shelter. “Really? Who was it?”

Mrs. Lee continues, “She's outside playing with the puppies. It's such a cute scene—you need to see it!”

She holds his hand and leads him to the open field. There, you are, lying on the ground, surrounded by a flurry of excited puppies. They lick your face and jump on you, their clumsy movements making you laugh. The scene is one of pure joy and innocence, and Mingyu can see that both you and the puppies are enjoying every moment.

He stands there, watching in awe. As if sensing his presence, you look up and meet his gaze. A smile spreads across your face, and you gently push the puppies off you, standing up and dusting off your clothes.

After a moment, Mingyu's expression turns serious. He waits for you to notice his presence. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice sharp.

You look down, avoiding his eyes. “I heard that you volunteer here and—”

“Yeah, I know. Joshua told me. What do you want?” Mingyu cuts you off.

You take a deep breath, looking everywhere but at him. A puppy cries at your feet, trying to get your attention, and you pick him up, nestling him in your arms as you caress him. “I’m sorry, Mingyu. If I had known that this was the reason you needed the money, I would have helped you with your volcano. Or I would have donated this earlier.”

He stands there, reluctant. “Did you really donate all the prize?”

You nod. “Yes. I’m really sorry.”

Just then, Mrs. Lee appears again, beaming. “Look, Y/N, who’s ready to go home!” In her arms, she holds a caramel puppy with a cute pink bow.

Mingyu's eyes widen. “Lola!”

Mrs. Lee continues, “Yes! Lola is finally getting a home. She’s such a sweet girl.”

Lola was a caramel dog who had a problem at birth and only had one eye. 

You smile softly, looking at Lola and then back at Mingyu. “I heard about Lola from Joshua. She deserves a good home.” “I fell in love with Lola,” you continue, sniffling the head of the puppy. 

Lola wriggles in your arms, her little tail wagging furiously. Mingyu watches you, trying to hide the way his heart throbs at the sight.

“Lola had a hard time getting adopted,” he says quietly. “I never thought you’d be the one to take her home.”

You smile, looking down at the puppy who’s now nuzzling into your neck. “I couldn’t resist her. She’s special.”

Mingyu nods, his expression softening even more. “Yeah, she is. She’s been here for a while, you know. I was worried she’d never find a home.”

You lift your eyes to meet his. “Well, now she has one. I’m going to make sure she’s happy.”

He pouts a little, thinking about how Lola won’t be teething his pants or his shoelaces when he arrives at the shelter anymore. “I’m going to miss her.”

“You can visit anytime,” you offer, then stop to think if it hadn't sounded too appealing. “I mean, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, a small smile forming. 

You shrug, feeling a sense of relief and a twinge of regret. “It’s the least I could do. I’m really sorry for what I did, Mingyu. I hope this makes up for it, even just a little.”

“It does,” he admits. “Seeing you with Lola… it’s a good sight. She looks happy.”

“She is,” you say, watching as Lola’s eyes droop sleepily in your arms. “And so am I.”

Mingyu chuckles softly. “I guess she found the right person after all.”

For a moment, you both stand there in comfortable silence, watching the puppies play. The rivalry that once felt so consuming now seems distant, replaced by a shared understanding and a newfound… respect.

“Maybe we could work together next time,” Mingyu suggests, breaking the silence.

“I bet you want to work together because you know I'm the best, right?” you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

Mingyu rolls his eyes, laughing. “Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, Y/N.”

As you turn to leave the shelter, Lola nestled contentedly in your arms, Mingyu watches you go, a smile lingering on his face. 

[...]

In the days that follow at college, Mingyu's friends find it strange to see the two of you greeting each other kindly, for what they believe is the first time. You don't force anything, knowing that pushing for kindness right now would feel hypocritical.

Mingyu always wondered why you were so gentle to everyone but him, but he also remembered that he wasn’t the easiest person to talk to, given your rivalry and his constant teasing. Now, seeing this different side of you, the resentment he held begins to fade.

In the quiet moments of your day, you reflect on the past weeks. How quickly things had escalated between you and Mingyu, from academic rivals to almost enemies. It felt strange, now that the tension was easing, to think about how much energy you had spent on trying to outdo him. You wonder if it was worth it.

The next day, you see Mingyu in the hallway. He’s standing with Joshua and Wonwoo, and they glance at you as you approach. You give them a small wave and a genuine smile.

“Hey, Mingyu,” you say.

“Hey, Y/N,” he replies, his tone surprisingly warm.

Joshua and Wonwoo exchange bewildered looks, but you don’t pay them much attention. “How’s Lola settling in?” Mingyu asks.

“She’s great,” you reply, the memory of her wagging tail bringing a smile to your face. “She’s already made herself at home.”

Mingyu nods, his expression softening. “That’s good to hear.”

As the days pass, you notice the way people react to your newfound harmony with Mingyu. They seem curious, whispering to each other as they watch the two of you interact. You and Mingyu aren’t best friends overnight, but the hostility is gone, replaced by a cautious but genuine friendliness.

Well, that's what you thought until now.

You walk into the hallway, the usual buzz of students replaced with an unsettling silence. Eyes follow you, not with curiosity but with judgment. The whispers you once ignored now feel like sharp blades. You push the bad feeling down your throat, trying to keep your head high as you make your way to the courtyard.

As you approach your friends, you notice their uneasy expressions. They exchange nervous glances, unsure whether to walk away or stay put. “What’s going on?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

One of your friends steps forward, looking uncomfortable. “There’s a video, Y/N,” they begin hesitantly. “On the university blog... it shows you sabotaging Mingyu’s volcano. It’s a little dark, but it’s you.”

Your heart sinks, a cold chill spreading through your chest. “What?” you whisper, the word barely escaping your lips.

Another friend chimes in, their voice low. “People are saying you might get kicked out of the university. They’re already talking about disciplinary actions.”

You feel the weight of their words settle on you, heavier than you could’ve imagined. Your thoughts race as you try to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Kicked out? You’d worked so hard to get here, and now it might all be over because of a moment of weakness and petty rivalry.

Your mind drifts to Mingyu, the awkward but promising start of a truce between you two. You wonder if he’s seen the video, if he knows the full extent of what you did. The thought makes you feel sick.

You glance around the courtyard, suddenly hyper-aware of the stares and whispers. Your friends stand by, uncertain and uncomfortable. You can’t blame them; they didn’t sign up for this drama. The fear of repercussions, the shame of being caught—it's all too much. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to cry.

“I—I need to go,” you stammer, turning away from the group. You don’t wait for their reactions as you walk briskly toward the building's exit. The video, the possibility of expulsion, Mingyu—all of it spins around in your head, a chaotic mess you can’t straighten.

The thought of your parents, the disappointment in their eyes if they find out, makes you feel even worse.

You sit in your car in the parking lot, tears streaming down your face as you watch the damning video on your phone for what feels like the hundredth time. The grainy footage shows you sneaking into the lab, swapping out the bicarbonate for salt in Mingyu’s volcano. Your heart sinks with each replay, the weight of your actions pressing down on you.

Then, a notification catches your eye. A new comment appears right after the post, marked by the blog admin so that it's fixed at the top. It’s from Mingyu.

kmingyu_1577: "hey everyone, just wanted to clarify that this video doesn't tell the whole story. the truth is, i had already messed up my volcano. the bicarbonate i used was expired, and i didn’t realize it until it was too late. y/n knew about it and was just trying to help me out. it’s not her fault. please stop the hate."

You blink through your tears, rereading the comment to make sure you didn’t misinterpret it. The comments below start shifting, the tide of public opinion turning. Relief and understanding replace the initial anger and disappointment.

“Wow, Mingyu’s so mature about this.”

“Glad to know the truth. Poor Y/N, she must have been so scared.”

“Thanks for clearing this up, Mingyu. You’re a good guy.”

You sit back, stunned. Why would Mingyu do this? After everything, why would he cover for you?

You hear a knock on your window, and your heart sinks. There he is, Mingyu, standing outside your car with a serious look. You’re too embarrassed to face him, but you roll the window down slowly, your hands trembling. He gestures for you to step out, his expression softening just slightly. You nod and step out of the car, trying to discreetly dry your tears, but the redness of your nose and eyes betrays you.

Mingyu stands in front of you, his posture relaxed but his eyes full of unease. He takes a deep breath, his voice calm as he speaks. “Why did you do this, Y/N? I mean, you're incredibly talented and intelligent. You’ve always been at the top, outshining everyone. There’s no need for you to resort to something like this. It doesn’t make sense... not for someone like you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and you can’t bring yourself to look up. You feel the weight of your actions pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. But then you feel his hand gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and you see the genuine concern in his gaze.

“Y/N, you’re so much better than this. You’ve always been more than just your grades, more than just this rivalry we’ve had. You have so much potential, so much to offer. Sabotaging my project... it’s not who you are. It’s not who I believe you can be.”

You sniffle, trying to hold back the tears, but it’s no use. They spill over, running down your cheeks. Mingyu’s eyes soften even more, and he sighs. 

You feel the lump in your throat grow, and a sob escapes your lips. “I’m so sorry,” you choke out. “I just... I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to win so badly, I lost sight of everything else. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Mingyu steps closer, his expression easing as he listens. He hesitates for a moment, then wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. You freeze for a second, surprised by the gesture, but then you melt into him, the sobs coming harder now. He holds you tightly, one hand gently rubbing your back.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers. 

You cling to him, feeling the regret starting to lift, just a little. The heat of his embrace feels like a safe haven. Mingyu doesn’t let go, even as your tears soak into his shirt. He just holds you, steady and patient.

Eventually, your sobs quiet down, and you pull away slightly, wiping your eyes.

A question lingers in your mind, and you finally find the courage to voice it. “Why did you leave that comment?” you ask. “You didn’t have to say those things, you didn’t have to defend me like that. After everything I did... why?”

“I can’t lose my favorite rival that easily. Our rivalry... it’s pushed both of us to be better, to work harder. And I think, deep down, we both know that.” 

You chuckle softly. “So, you’re saying you did it because you need me as your competition?”

Mingyu laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Instead of tearing each other down, why don’t we join forces for a change?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Join forces? What do you have in mind?”

He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Well, there’s a whole new batch of freshmen who think they can waltz in and take over. They’re talented, sure, but they have no idea what they’re up against. I say we show them how it’s done. What do you think? Team up and teach them a thing or two?”

You can't help but smile; the idea sparks a sense of harmony you hadn’t felt in a while. “So, you’re proposing an alliance?”

“Just think about it,” he replies.. “We could be unstoppable. The dynamic duo.”

Later that day, you scroll through the university blog and notice a new post: a photo of you and Mingyu sharing a heartfelt hug in the parking lot. The caption reads, “The unexpected truce: rivals turned allies?” Below the post, a comment catches your eye:

JoshuaHong_223: “I always thought they would make a powerful couple.”

[...]

You walk into the library, scanning the rows of bookshelves. Your mind is still buzzing with the encounter you had earlier. As you turn a corner, you spot Mingyu sitting at a table, surrounded by a pile of books. He’s focused, scribbling notes, but your presence doesn't go unnoticed. He looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he sees the expression on your face.

You stride over to him, your steps quick. When you reach his table, you crouch down to his level, trying to keep your voice low but unable to hide your frustration. “Mingyu, can you believe what just happened? One of the new freshmen had the nerve to confront me in the hallway. Can you imagine?”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, closing his book slowly as he leans back in his chair. “Seriously? What did they say?” He keeps his voice calm, but you can see the curiosity in his eyes.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “They came up to me, all smug and confident, and basically implied that they were going to knock us off the top spot. Like they could actually compete with us.”

Mingyu’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. “Wow, bold move. Did they really think they could take you on just like that?”

You nod, still fuming. 

Mingyu chuckles softly, leaning forward with an amused twinkle in his eye. “Guess they have no idea what kind of competition they’ve signed up for. Ya! this could be fun. A little extra motivation to keep us sharp.”

You roll your eyes, though a small smile tugs at your lips. “Fun for you, maybe. I just don’t like the idea of someone thinking they can walk all over us.”

He reaches out and gently taps the back of your hand, a reassuring gesture. “Relax, Y/N. We’ve got this. If they want a challenge, we’ll give them one.”

You sigh, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease a bit. 

You’re walking towards your car, the weight of the day heavy on your shoulders, when you hear that all-too-familiar voice. It’s one of the new freshmen, and her tone is dripping with smugness. You freeze, feeling a surge of irritation as her words cut through the quiet of the parking lot.

You turn around sharply, spotting her standing a few feet away with a smirk on her face. Her attitude is infuriating, and you feel your patience snapping. Mingyu, standing a distance away, watches with a knowing look, sensing that you’re about to lose your shit.

As you close the distance between you, you see her expression shift from confident to slightly uncertain. You get right up in her space, your chest touching hers. “Listen here,” you say, your voice low and controlled but bounded with anger. “I’ve had enough of your crap. I’m not afraid to beat your ass.”

She narrows her eyes, not backing down. “Oh? And what are you going to do? Risk getting kicked out of the university again?”

You scoff, shoving your bag through the open window of your car. The motion emphasizing your frustration. “Really? You think you can scare me with that? You’re just a freshman, and you’ve got some nerve talking to me like that. The parking lot is outside university grounds. No one here can touch us. And I'm not afraid to beat your ass.”

Her eyes widen as she processes your words, the confidence draining from her expression. “You think you can just intimidate me and get away with it?”

You lean in closer, your voice a dangerous whisper. “I’m not here to play games. If you’ve got a problem, we can sort it out. But don’t think for a second that you’re going to walk all over me without consequences.”

As you push your chest into the girl’s, you feel her shove back, her rage matching yours. The confrontation is heating up, and just as you’re about to respond, Mingyu strides over and steps in between you, pulling you back against him. His arms wrap around your shoulders and arms, his chest pressing against your back.

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Mingyu says, his voice authoritative. “Let’s not escalate this further.”

You struggle slightly, but his hold is steady, keeping you securely against him. 

“How about you give me a ride and let me help you get away from this situation?” He whispers exaggeratedly.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his gaze, and sighing. Mingyu releases you from his embrace but keeps a protective hand on your back as you both walk towards your car. The freshman watches, but she doesn’t make a move to follow.

As you open the car door and slide into the driver’s seat, Mingyu gets in beside you, placing your bag on his lap, and settling into the passenger seat. 

As you focus intently on the road, your jaw clenched and your eyes angrily fierce, Mingyu can’t help but notice the vigor of your expression. The anger from the conflict still simmers beneath the surface, and every so often, you grip the steering wheel a bit harder, your knuckles white. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than he intends, his eyes admiring the mad energy that radiates from you.

He’s seen you angry before, but this—this is something different. There’s a raw, magnetic energy about you when you’re like this, and he can’t help but be captivated by it.

Mingyu bites his bottom lip, trying to steady himself. Part of him is charmed by how hot you look when you’re mad. It’s as if your anger fuels a side of you that’s irresistible. He shakes his head, trying to dispel the distracting thoughts. This isn’t the time for that.

He straightens up in his seat, looking out the window, focusing on the blur of trees and buildings rushing by. The silence in the car is thick, punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional shift of gears. 

Mingyu knows he needs to break the silence, to offer some kind of reassurance. But he’s also aware that now might not be the best time for his usual teasing.

Oh, maybe that's why he liked to tease you—the sight of you mad.

His hand, initially resting awkwardly at his side, slowly finds its way to your thigh. The touch is tentative at first, his fingers feeling the warmth of your skin through your jeans. He gives it a firm squeeze, trying to offer some comfort.

“Hey, Y/N,” Mingyu says softly. “Try to relax a bit. You’re too wound up.”

You soften your jaw, releasing some of the tightness, and let your shoulders relax. You lean your head slightly against the headrest. Mingyu’s thumb begins to make slow, soothing circles on your thigh. His touch is like a balm, easing some of the tension from your body.

You pull up in front of Mingyu’s home, the car coming to a gentle stop. The quiet of the night envelops you both as you turn off the engine. Mingyu glances at you, his eyes softening as he gives a small, grateful smile.

“Thanks for the ride, Y/N,” he says sincerely. 

He reaches out, his fingers pinching the tense curve of your neck. 

“Ouch!” You pout. 

“You’re so tense,” he teases with a soft laugh, his fingers lingering for a moment.

You can’t help but sulk slightly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Well, you did just see me almost start a fight.”

Mingyu’s smile widens, and he leans in closer. “Let me help with that. I’m pretty good at taking away tension.”

Before you can respond, he starts kissing the curve of your neck with an unhurried, conscious trail of saliva. The sensation of his warm lips against your skin is making you melt against the seat. His hand moves to the other side of your neck, his fingers kneading the tense muscles with gentle strokes.

The combination of his kisses and the soothing massage leaves you in a state of blissful ease—but probably wet. You close your eyes, your head tilting back slightly as you surrender to the feeling. 

Mingyu’s touch eventually slows, and he pulls back, a satisfied smile on his face. “Thanks for letting me help with that. You’re much better now.”

You nod, still slightly dazed from the unexpected massage. “You’re welcome. I—”

He cuts you off with a soft chuckle, opening the car door. “Oh, and before I forget,” he says, glancing back at you with a touch of playful seriousness. “Send me a message when you get home, okay?”

You nod again, managing a small smile as he steps out of the car. “I will.”

Mingyu closes the door with a final, lingering look, his smile wide as he heads up to his front door. 

As Mingyu is about to open his front door, you call out to him. “Hey, Mingyu!”

He pauses, turning back with a curious eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“You nasty! Making a move like that right before you leave.”

Mingyu chuckles, his eyes twinkling with naughtiness. “Oh, was I too forward? I just wanted to help you relax. Maybe I got a bit carried away.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “A bit carried away? You practically turned my neck into a love nest.”

He grins, stepping closer to the car. “Well, if it means getting you to loosen up a bit, I’d say it was worth it. Besides, I thought you might enjoy it.”

Your cheeks flush slightly as you fight to keep your composure. “I—well, I did. But don’t think you can just get away with it.”

Mingyu leans against the car door, his expression smug. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m sure you’ll be thinking about it on your ride home.”

You give him a mock glare, trying to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks. “Fine, fine. Just don’t think you’re off the hook for being a tease.”

Mingyu’s eyes twinkle with delight as he starts to head back toward his door. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to get back at me. Until then, keep that bottom lip tight between your teeth. It’s kind of sexy when you do.”

You let the bottom lip escape from your teeth, your expression gawked. 

“Don’t forget to text me when you get home, or I might have to come check on you.”

With that, Mingyu heads inside, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a tight grip on your bottom lip as you drive away, the naughty exchange lingering in your mind.

(open the photos)

The next day, Mingyu looked like he’d barely slept. His pristine appearance was disheveled, his eyes a bit glassy, and there was a certain exhaustion about him that was hard to miss. It was clear that your midnight message had taken a toll on him.

His tired eyes and the slight stubble on his face made it evident he’d been up all night, likely replaying your audio moaning and the hickey photo in his mind. You couldn’t suppress a smirk at the thought of how your little game had left him looking so disoriented.

“Morning, Mingyu. Rough night?” you teased, unable to resist the opportunity.

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “You have no idea. What was that last night?” His voice was incredulous.

“You looked like you needed a wake-up call.”

Mingyu’s face flushed slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to take it that far. Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“Just keeping things interesting. You know, making sure you don’t get too comfortable. Besides, you started it.”

He shook his head, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “Yeah, well, you definitely made your point. I think I might be feeling this one for a while.”

“Glad to hear it. I'll consider it a compliment.” You smirked, enjoying the way he was visibly trying to regroup.

Mingyu gave a reluctant chuckle, finally being able to see the humor in the situation. “Alright, alright. I’ll give you that. Just don’t make a habit of it. I need to survive the rest of this semester.”

Certainly, you and Mingyu hadn’t exactly become best friends overnight, but the dynamic between you two had undeniably shifted after what happened last night. 

There was a new kind of tension in the air, an electric undercurrent that had nothing to do with animosity and everything to do with the teasing games you both seemed so fond of.

Mingyu was too attracted to your fiery expressions to let things slide, and he had to admit—something was thrilling about the way your usual small spats had taken a new direction.

 But the teasing? That still remained, stronger than ever.

You were in the last class of the day, and you could tell from the way Mingyu’s gaze kept drifting toward you that he was aware of everything you were doing. 

Earlier, you had been sliding your middle and ring fingers slowly inside the slit of your book, your smile widening as you noticed his eyes glued to your movements. Mingyu hadn’t missed a thing.

In the lab, he had been at the table right next to yours, and when you crouched down to pick up something “accidentally” dropped, you made sure to lift the front of your skirt just enough to give him a glimpse of your thighs. The fabric had risen provocatively, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes blackened, nor how he subtly adjusted his position as if to ease some tension. 

On the third provocation, it clicked for him—he finally understood the game you were playing, and he was more than ready to play along.

Now, in the current lecture, you found yourself seated right beside him. You were doing your best to focus on the lecture, but when you glanced sideways, you saw him palming himself through his pants. 

The motion was subtle enough not to draw attention from others, but obvious enough for you to notice the perfect outline of his cock pressing against the fabric. Your breath hitched as your thighs instinctively pressed together under the table.

Mingyu caught your reaction immediately, and you saw a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He licked his finger slowly, before using it to turn the page of his book, his eyes locked onto yours the entire time. It was a blatant taunt, a silent challenge that he was not backing down.

But you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand. Not just yet.

You shifted in your seat, leaning back slightly as you let one of your legs brush against his under the table. The touch was light, almost accidental, but the way his body tensed told you he felt it. 

You let the edge of your shoe graze up the inside of his calf, teasing your way higher as you pretended to be engrossed in your notes. Mingyu didn’t move, his breath growing shallower, but he didn’t pull away either.

Your hand slowly made its way to your lap, where you began tracing small circles on the fabric of your skirt, inching the hem higher just enough that he could see your fingers playing with the material.

You knew his eyes were glued to the action, his own hand still resting against his thigh, tense, almost daring you to keep going.

Without warning, you let your fingers dip beneath the hem of your skirt, brushing over the sensitive skin of your upper thigh. You could practically feel the restraint he was forcing on himself. His stare darted between your face, your hand, and the bit of exposed skin, as if he couldn’t decide which to focus on.

Then, leaning in slightly as if you were about to whisper something in his ear, you let your hand trail higher, just shy of the edge of your underwear. You didn’t touch yourself, but the implication was clear. Mingyu’s breathing hitched, and you could tell he was holding back a groan. His eyes were burning into you, the heat between you two palpable.

He wasn’t going to let this go unanswered. Not a chance.

Mingyu’s hand moved from his thigh to the edge of his desk, fingers tapping rhythmically as he tried to maintain his composure. But when you let out a small, barely audible sigh—one that could have been mistaken for frustration, but you knew better—his resolve broke.

Mingyu leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Keep going like that, and I won’t be able to focus on anything but you. Is that what you want?”

You bit your bottom lip, glancing at him through your lashes, and nodded ever so slightly. Mingyu’s eyes darkened further, and he let out a quiet, almost desperate laugh.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Because I’m going to make you regret teasing me like this when we’re alone.”

The moment the bell rang, signaling the end of the lecture, you didn’t waste any time. Gathering your things quickly, you slipped out of the classroom, moving fast through the hallways with a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. 

The rush of the chase made your heart race, knowing full well that Mingyu was right behind you. The game was on, and you had no intention of making it easy for him.

You headed straight for your car, hoping to put some distance between you and Mingyu, but before you could reach the driver's side, a firm grip caught your arm.

A strong hand grabbed your arm, spinning you around. Mingyu was right there, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge.

“Running away from me, are you?” he teased, his voice low and laced with a smirk.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh as you looked up at him, your eyes gleaming with the same playful energy.

 But before you could respond, Mingyu’s hand slid up to your jaw, his fingers firm yet gentle as he pressed you against the side of your car. Your back hit the cool metal, and you widened your eyes in surprise, your breath catching in your throat.

There were people around—students lingering in the parking lot, walking to their cars, chatting in small groups. But the way Mingyu looked at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race, made it clear that he didn’t care who was watching. 

And from the heat in your gaze, he could tell you didn’t either. 

The next thing you knew, the scene had shifted. 

You were no longer in the parking lot, but somewhere far more yours. Your clothes were discarded in a trail leading to the bed, and now, Mingyu’s body was pressed flush against yours. 

The teasing, the back-and-forth, the playful banter—it had all led to this moment, and now there was nothing holding either of you back.

You hated yourself for not being able to resist him.

Despite everything, despite knowing you shouldn’t be this weak for him, here you were, looking into his eyes, your jaw slack as you practically drooled. 

Mingyu had already made you cum more times than you could count, his fingers and mouth driving you to the edge and beyond, and now, as he hovered above you, you struggled to take him in, feeling stretched to your absolute limit.

“Too big, too big… Mingyu—ah!” you cried out, your voice breaking as his cock pushed into you, filling you to the brim. 

Mingyu’s lips curled into a wicked smile, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he licked his lips, clearly enjoying the way you were unraveling beneath him. “Too big, huh?” he teased. “Should I have mercy on you?”

Before you could respond, his fingers reached down to your clit, pinching it just hard enough to make your back arch off the bed. The loud moan that escaped your lips was involuntary. 

You felt a flush of embarrassment wash over you, ashamed of how desperate and clingy you were being for him, how you couldn’t control yourself around him.

“Shhh,” Mingyu chided softly. “You don’t want to be too loud, do you? Lola’s right in the next room.”

You had made sure to put the dog away, closing the door before things heated up. Frustrated, you slapped him lightly on the chest, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it only made him chuckle.

“You’re such a crybaby,” Mingyu whispered, his voice dripping with mock sympathy as he started to rock his hips, each thrust making you sob. “First crying on my shoulder… now crying on my cock. What am I going to do with you?”

Your eyes drifted down, catching sight of the bulge from his cock pressing against your belly, making the stretch inside you all the more real, all the more intense. Mingyu noticed too, his gaze following yours before his hand, the one that had been tormenting your clit, moved up to caress the bulge. He pressed down on it, the added pressure making you gasp, your legs spasming around him.

“Motherfucker,” you grit through your teeth, the words almost a growl.

Mingyu only smirked at your reaction. “Watch your mouth,” he scolded, his voice low as he began thrusting harder, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust. “You… need… to… learn… some… respect.”

With every thrust, your body tensed and then melted back into the sheets, the rhythm pushing you further into a state of desperate need. 

Your chin quivered as you cried out, your voice trembling. One hand slid up his back, fingers digging into his skin, while the other wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your legs locked around his waist. You held him tight, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Mingyu smiled, leaning in so his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke. “You’re so cute when I fuck you like this,” he murmured. “All grumpy and stubborn outside, but here… you just melt for me.”

You wanted to respond, to say something back, but the pressure was too much, too intense, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body strung tight like a bow ready to snap.

And then it did.

Your entire body tensed, every muscle tightening as the pleasure yanked through you. Your back arched off the bed, pressing your chest against his as your nails dug into his skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks along his back.

Your legs tightened around him, trapping him in place as your body convulsed, your walls clenching around his cock in a desperate attempt to pull him even deeper. Your vision blurred, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you sobbed his name, the sound of it broken, completely broken.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—everything was white-hot pleasure, consuming you completely.

Mingyu stayed with you through it all, his own breath hitching as he watched you come undone beneath him.

Your body was still trembling from your orgasm, but Mingyu didn’t give you a moment to recover. He continued thrusting into you, relentless despite how tight you were around him. 

Sensing your haze, Mingyu pulled back slightly from your embrace, his strong arms still cradling your trembling frame. His hands found their way to your face, and before you could process it, he gave you a light slap, just enough to snap you back to reality. 

The sting on your face was a shock, but it was the way your body reacted—clenching tighter around his cock—that caught both of you off guard.

He watched your eyes widen. The effect it had on you was unmistakable, and Mingyu, ever the tease, decided to test it again. Another slap, this time a bit firmer, and the response was immediate—your walls squeezed him so tightly that he hissed through his teeth.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me—” His voice broke off into a moan as his hips stuttered, a hand flying to the pillow under your head to brace himself. 

He came hard, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips as his head fell back, eyes rolling as his release filled you. He stayed there for a moment, savoring the high, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he drank in the way your body clung to his.

You looked up at him, your breath still coming in uneven gasps, annoyed at how effortlessly he pulled you under his spell. 

He looked too good, too smug, and it pissed you off—especially when he came with that full, satisfied grin plastered across his face. The sight of him, made your irritation spike, but it was quickly overshadowed by something else when he started to move again.

Mingyu wasn’t done. He raised himself up slightly, and you couldn’t help but feel confused. What was he planning now? Before you could ask, he began to lower himself, and your confusion turned into shock as the realization hit you.

He’s not going to… You thought to yourself, eyes widening as you watched him get lower.

But he was. 

Mingyu was about to do the nastiest shit, and the excitement was written all over his face. The look of surprise + disbelief on your face only fueled him further, making him more determined to see this through. He lowered his mouth to your core, the mix of your juices and his cum still leaking out of you, and without hesitation, he began to eat you out, his tongue lapping up the mess he had made.

The overstimulation, plus, something so dirty it made your head spin. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching him in a trance. You could barely process what was happening—his lips, his tongue, all of it working on you again, despite the fact that you were already so sensitive, and full of his cum.

“Mingyu, what the fuck—” you started, but the rest of your sentence was lost to a moan as his tongue flicked out to taste more of you—and… him. His own cum smeared across his lips and chin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He teased even as he continued to lap at you, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive flesh until your hips were twitching uncontrollably. “Too much for you? Or do you like watching me clean up my own mess?” 

You tried to speak, tried to tell him to stop or keep going; you weren’t sure anymore, but all that came out were broken moans and gasps. He hummed against you, the vibration sending shivers through your already overstimulated body. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue worked you over.

He finally pulled back, leaving you breathless and trembling, your body still humming with the orgasm he'd just given you. You looked down at your pussy, glistening from his attention, but something didn’t add up. There was no trace of the mess he had made earlier, just the slickness from his saliva. Confused, your eyes flicked back to him, then back down to yourself, your mind struggling to piece together what the fuck had just happened.

Mingyu caught your fogged look and let out a deep, satisfied laugh, the sound was rich, deep, and so incredibly self-satisfied.

He stuck his tongue out, showing you the clean, pink muscle—without a hint of the mess you expected—and you nearly lost it. Did he really swallow it all? Your mind raced, and the disbelief was written all over your face.

“Fuck... did you just…?” you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You were too stunned to finish the thought.

He grinned, leaning on his elbows, completely unbothered by what had just transpired. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a low, teasing drawl. “Swallowed every drop.”

Your eyes widened, shock flooding your system. You could hardly believe it. And the worst part? He looked so damn proud of himself.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Not even you had tasted him like that, and yet he had done it without a second thought. The realization hit you like a truck, and before you knew it, you were pulling him back to you, needing to feel him, taste him, and confirm that it had really happened.

Your lips crashed into his, and you kissed him with an appetite that surprised even you. His mouth was warm and soft, the remnants of his earlier work still lingering, and it only made you more desperate. 

Mingyu’s hands slid into your hair, tugging slightly as he deepened the kiss, feeding off your urgency. When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, he gave you a smug smile, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip.

“Taste good, doesn’t it?” he teased. “Thought I’d save you some, but… I couldn’t help myself. It was too fucking good.”

You stared at him, still trying to process everything, and he just laughed again, the sound rumbling through his chest as he watched you grapple with the situation.

[...]

You didn’t know how you managed to sleep after everything that had happened. By all accounts, you should have been wide awake, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. But exhaustion won out, and not only did you fall asleep—you practically passed out. The weight of the night’s events melted away as soon as your head hit the pillow, dragging you into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Morning crept up on you gently, the first thing you noticed being something warm and wet against your face. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with Lola’s excited little face, her tongue happily lapping at your cheek. You groaned, half-heartedly trying to push her away, but she was relentless, her tail wagging furiously behind her.

“Lola, come on… let her sleep,” came Mingyu’s voice, a shout-whisper from somewhere near the foot of the bed. You could hear the fun in his tone, despite the fact that he was trying to be serious.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, surprising even you with its lightness. It felt strange, this casual morning after, as if last night hadn’t completely turned your world upside down. 

You wiped at your face Lola's excitement was contagious, and soon you were sitting up, rubbing your eyes and grinning at her.

Mingyu walked over, his hair still mussed from sleep, an easy smile on his face as he watched you. “Guess she missed you,” he said, shrugging as if to say he couldn’t be held responsible for Lola’s antics.

Notes: mention of san (ateez) and sangyeon (theboyz)

Well… it’s finally here!! it’s been a while, so even if you’ve already read part 1, I recommend giving it another read before diving in – this picks up right where it left off. Enjoy, and please scream & shout at me about how you liked it!! it’s my first time writing smut, so be kind (but also honest hehe) ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, switch!mingyu (CAUSE I KNOW HE IS), switch!reader, needy mingyu (yes that’s a warning), semi-public situations (they're not getting caught at all), fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), consent emphasized, breast play, dirty talk, edging, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex/creampie (don't do that!!), cockwarming, aftercare implied, excessive use of “fuck” and “shit” (because i can’t stop it) 

21:12 

"Woah." 

Hoshi and Wonwoo storm inside, the door swinging shut behind them. "I almost turned into a damn tree waiting out there. Thought you guys were pretending not to be here." 

There’s a pause. His eyes flicker around the room—searching. 

"For whatever reason," he adds, dragging out the words before shooting Wonwoo a look, wiggling his brows. Wonwoo chuckles under his breath, balancing bottles in both hands. 

Usually, Mingyu would roll his eyes, maybe even smack Hoshi for a dumb comment like that. But right now? His mind is too hazy, too full—still tangled up in you. 

The second you hear their voices, you go. 

Straight to the bathroom. Fast enough to escape, slow enough not to raise suspicion. The door clicks shut behind you, just shy of a slam. 

Your hands grip the sink. Your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed, cheeks burning, lips—fuck. 

You look wrecked. 

Your hair is a mess from where Mingyu had leaned too close, your lips are swollen from nothing but a brush, and your skin still tingles where his breath had been. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. Inhale deep. Try to steady yourself. 

Because they’re out there. He is out there. And you need to act normal. 

So you force it all down, splash cold water on your face, and when you step out of the bathroom, you do what you do best. 

You pretend. 

"Why the hell wouldn’t you guys pick up my call? I was going crazy. Do you know how much I paid yesterday for your shit?" 

Hoshi sprawls out on the couch, his voice loud and dramatic, while Wonwoo sets the snacks and bottles down on the table. 

That’s how Hoshi expresses his worry—through complaints, through exaggerated frustration that’s half real, half just him being Hoshi. Usually, Mingyu would respond. Would roll his eyes, laugh, tease him back. 

But right now? 

Mingyu isn’t listening. 

He can’t listen. 

He sinks onto the couch, still lightheaded. Still caught up in the last few minutes. 

Hoshi is talking—something about the night, something Mingyu should probably respond to—but his mind is elsewhere. He’s still in the kitchen. Still pressed against you. Still feeling the ghost of your lips brushing his. His whole body is tense, his skin too warm, his jeans way too fucking tight. 

He shifts uncomfortably, subtly adjusting himself before grabbing a pillow and placing it over his lap. He tries—really, really tries—to focus on Hoshi. To nod at the right moments. To act normal. But all he can think about is how soft your lips felt, how you looked at him. The way your lips parted just slightly, like you were going to— 

"So tell me, what did you guys do today?" 

Fuck. 

Mingyu freezes. 

What—what is he supposed to say? That you guys—? No. No fucking way. 

His stomach tightens. His jeans—shit—feel impossibly tighter. A sudden wave of dizziness washes over him. He wasn’t even drunk, but it was too hot in here. Too much. Too you. 

"Umm…" he mutters, fingers pressing to his temple, trying to come up with something—anything—normal to say. 

"Nothing much," you say, stepping into the living room. Too casual. Too even. "Just ate, watched something. Pretty chill." 

Hoshi hums, unconvinced. 

And Mingyu—Mingyu forgets how to breathe. 

His eyes drag over you—your face, your lips. Your legs, where he was between them just minutes ago. 

Shit. 

His grip tightens on the pillow. 

"Yeah, of course," Hoshi says, voice laced with suspicion. But thankfully, he shrugs it off, already moving on to another topic. The conversation shifts, flows into something else. 

But Mingyu doesn’t. 

He stays still. Because you don’t look at him. Not once. 

Since the second you walked into the room, since the moment you spoke, you haven’t spared him a single glance. 

And fuck, that does something to him. 

Fingers clenched. Jaw locked. Heart pounding. 

Because this isn’t over. 

Because no matter how much you pretend— 

No matter how steady your voice is, how carefully you avoid his gaze— 

He knows. 

He knows now.

22:12 

"Well, I was supposed to go out with the other guys tonight, but of course, you guys come first," Hoshi announces dramatically, stretching across the couch. 

Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his phone. "Why are you lying? You were the one who insisted on coming here and dragged me along." 

Hoshi huffs and lightly smacks Wonwoo’s arm. "Shh, be quiet." 

But then, as if the thought just occurred to him, Hoshi perks up. "Actually… now that I think about it, I could've brought them along. They’re pretty cool." 

He pauses for effect, then smirks. "Especially Sangyeon." 

There’s something in his tone—something teasing—that immediately puts you on edge. 

"You know what?" He grins. "I should introduce him to you. He might be your type." 

Your head snaps up. 

And so does Mingyu’s. 

The air shifts in an instant. 

“I—uh, I’m actually pretty picky, so don’t bother.”  

“Come on, it can’t be that complicated. What is your type, anyway?” 

Your mouth opens, then closes. 

 And before you can stop yourself, before you can think—your gaze flickers to Mingyu. 

Shit. 

You regret it immediately. The moment is too fast, too obvious. Wonwoo catches it instantly, his sharp eyes reading your expression like an open book. 

"Just leave her alone with your nonsense," Wonwoo says, his voice even, unimpressed. "Maybe worry about finding your own girlfriend first." 

Hoshi gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. "Hey! I’m trying to help! It’s been years since she’s had a boyfriend!" 

Your stomach tightens. You can’t sit here any longer. 

Mingyu doesn’t look away. He just watches.  

Heat creeps up your neck, and suddenly, you need to get out of here. Now.  

You force out a laugh, pushing yourself to your feet. "I think it’s time for more drinks." 

"Want some help with that?” Wonwoo asks, still half-distracted by his phone. 

"No!" It comes out too fast, too desperate. You cringe at yourself but don’t stop. 

You don’t wait for a response—you just go. 

The moment you step into the kitchen, you exhale sharply, setting the glasses down and gripping the counter. 

Just breathe. In and ou— 

“Need help?” 

His voice. 

Casual. Too casual. 

He’s there—leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, shoulders broad, completely unbothered.Taking up too much space. 

An annoyed smile tugs at your lips. Why can’t he just leave you alone? 

“I thought I was being clear,” you mutter, staring ahead. 

A slow, knowing hum. Amused. Mocking . “I’m just being nice. Like always.” 

And he’s enjoying this—teasing you like this. 

You shake your head, you shift, pulling open the fridge. “Good. Then don’t be like always.” 

Mingyu straightens, uncrossing his arms, a soft chuckle. 

You grab a couple of bottles, setting them on the counter before reaching for the glasses in the cabinet. 

He doesn’t move. Just staying there at the door frame. Watching you. 

“Yeah? And how exactly do you want me then?” 

Your grip tightens around the glass. 

Mingyu. You little shit. 

You inhale, forcing yourself to keep your back to him. “I need you to be quiet. Just quiet.”  

“Oh, I can do that,” he murmurs, voice lower, rougher. 

You don’t dare meet his eyes. You don’t even turn around. Instead, you keep your gaze on the glasses in your hands—like that’s all you came here for.  

“I think you know how.” 

You let out a breath, stepping toward him like it’s nothing. 

“If you’re done, here, make yourself useful.” 

His smirk deepens. You’re trying so hard to act unaffected, but he sees it—the way your fingers tremble slightly, the way your breath catches.  

Mingyu tilts his head. Slow. Calculating. “I thought you didn’t want my help?” 

You shoot him a glare. You scowl. Why does he have to be so goddamn annoying?  

And worse—why does he have to look this good while doing it? 

But before you can fire back— 

Your phone rings. 

You glance down at your pocket, hands too full to reach for it. You sigh, shifting everything toward Mingyu. 

He looks at you. A beat of silence. And just when you think he’s going to take the bottles— 

His hand moves. 

Not for the drinks. 

For your phone. 

No hesitation. No second-guessing. 

His fingers brush against your waist as he lifts the hem of your shirt—just slightly. 

His fingers curl around your phone. He pulls it out, his gaze flickers down to the screen. 

San. 

The name rolls off his tongue. He’s heard it before, here and there. Was it someone from work? 

His eyes flick back up to yours, searching. “This late?” 

You swallow. “Give it back.” 

You step forward, but he doesn’t move. 

His grip tightens around your phone. He should just hand it over. He should step back. 

Instead, the words slip out—low, unfiltered. 

“Why is he calling?” 

You blink. 

Shit. It wasn’t a question he meant to ask. It wasn’t something he even thought about saying. It just fell out of him. 

“What?” 

The call ends. Silence. 

Mingyu doesn’t answer the question. Neither do you. 

Before you can figure out what's happening, he smiles. But not just any smile.That slow, knowing, devastating kind. 

And then—He puts it back, back into your pocket. 

Ding. 

A message. 

He tilts his head. 

Ding. Ding. 

“Must be important.” 

Another message. 

“You close?” 

His voice dips lower. 

You open your mouth, but before you can answer— 

“How close?” 

Something shifts. 

The teasing is gone. 

He sees the realization flicker across your face. You notice it now—the difference. 

No smirking. No amusement. 

Just— 

Jealousy. 

Your lips twitch. 

This is fun. 

Your turn now. 

“This close,” you murmur, taking a few steps back. 

His brows furrow slightly. 

“Or this close?” 

You step forward again. 

His fingers flex. His jaw tightens. 

Now he gets it. 

Now you’re right in front of him. So close, almost touching. 

“Or maybe… this close?” 

So close you feel his breath. The way his chest rises. The way his hand twitches at his side. 

Your gaze flickers down to his lips. Then back up. 

His breath stutters. 

Your voice drops, barely above a whisper. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” 

Mingyu moves before he can think. 

His hand grips your waist. Your back. Pulling you into him. 

His body is so warm. So solid. 

And then— 

“I doubt you two are this close.” He leans in. Just slightly. 

His breath ghosts over your lips, his fingers flexing against your waist.  

The cold of the drinks and glasses in your hands presses against his chest, against his stomach—a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him. It makes his breath hitch. You can feel it, the bottles and glasses pressing against your breasts, and you wonder what it would have been like if they weren't there. 

“You didn’t even think about checking his messages,” he murmurs. His voice is smooth. Too smooth. And then—lower—right against your ear—  

“I have you right where I want you.” 

A sharp inhale. 

“YAAA!!”  

Hoshi’s voice cuts through the moment like a blade. 

Neither of you move. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

“MY DRINKS!! WHERE ARE MY DRINKS!!”  

Mingyu should step back. He should let go. 

He watches the way your chest rises. The way your lips part. The way your fingers tremble, just slightly, against his arm. He could end it right here. Close the space. Kiss you senseless. 

He wants to. God, he wants to. 

But the voices in the living room—too close. 

He doesn’t know how it would end. Doesn’t know what you’d do. What he might do. Not when his pulse is this loud, not when you’re looking at him like you already know. 

Not now, he thinks. 

Because if he moves even an inch closer—  He’ll do something stupid. 

Right then where you think he would lean in —again 

he takes the bottles and glasses from your hands. 

Turns and walks out of the kitchen. 

Leaving you standing there, heart racing. 

Mingyu—smirking to himself. 

He chooses restraint. For now. 

00:34 

Your night plays out like it always does. 

Mario Kart on the Switch, followed by rounds of drinking games, laughter bubbling up with every sip, the room alive with energy. It’s become routine—getting tipsy with the guys, letting the evening slip into a blur of noise and warmth. But tonight, something’s different. Your mind isn’t on the game; it’s on him. 

Mingyu. 

You’re counting down the minutes until this all ends, until you can finally be alone. 

Alone with your thoughts. 

“Okay, last round, Hoshi,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Yes! Yes!” Hoshi hurls himself into the couch, already grabbing his drink before the race even starts. Predictably, he loses again. 

You don’t even flinch, too distracted by the way Mingyu leans back against the couch, his eyes casually glancing at the screen but his attention fully on you. He’s sitting there, relaxed—his messy hair falling perfectly in a way that makes you want to reach out and fix it, even though you know he’d just mess it up again. 

His black t-shirt is slightly stretched from his movement, and as he shifts to grab another drink, you catch a glimpse of the chain hanging loosely around his neck. It glints in the dim light, you gaze down to the sharp line of his jaw to his exposed collarbones. 

You try to look away,  but every movement he makes seems deliberate, as if he's doing it on purpose. 

“PLEASE! LAST ROUND, PLEASE!!” Hoshi’s voice rings out, exaggerated and dramatic, dragging you back into the room. Mingyu chuckles, his lips curling into that effortless smirk. 

“Alright, let him have another round,” he says, voice deep and calm, a little too calm, his eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second. 

It’s enough. 

Your heart stutters. You’re hyper-aware of everything. He rolls his sleeves up, just slightly, as he takes another drink. The biceps of his arm flex as he lifts his glass, you can see the veins along his forearm. It’s suddenly so warm in here and you can feel the way it pulls you closer even though you haven’t moved an inch. 

He doesn't need to try. He just is. 

He knows it, too.  

“YAAA!! THIS CAN’T BE!!” Hoshi wails, the chaos pulling you out of the moment. His controller crashes to the floor in exaggerated despair. 

You sigh, laughing despite yourself, the sound escaping your lips like a small release. For a moment, it feels like the tension that’s been thickening the air all night finally breaks, but it lingers—just out of reach. Your eyes flicker to Mingyu, and in that instant, you catch him. Staring at you. Not just a glance, but a look that lingers. 

He’s watching you, watching the way you sit there—knees on the floor, bare legs beneath you. But it’s not just the way you’re sitting, it’s the way his shirt clings to your skin, your posture, your eyes, your lips... everything about you seems to pull him in. His thoughts begin to drift, and before he can stop them, his mind’s running down a path he knows he shouldn’t be on. 

No, he thinks. Not again. 

He drags a hand over his face and thunks his head back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut. He exhales slowly, a forced calm. Focus, Mingyu.  

He can’t afford another hard-on tonight. Not with everyone around. 

But he knows. You both know it. 

It’s going to be a long, torturous night after all. And it isn’t ending anytime soon.

02:46 

Hours have slipped by, blurred by laughter and the bitter tang of alcohol on your tongue. The room is warm, dimly lit,—half-empty glasses, crumpled snack bags, the low hum of music still playing somewhere in the background. 

You’re exhausted, but wired. The kind of tired where everything feels a little too slow, a little too heavy. 

A soft snore interrupts your thoughts. 

You turn your head. Hoshi, sprawled out across the couch, mouth slightly open, completely dead to the world. 

You blink. "Well. There he goes." 

Mingyu huffs out a quiet laugh across from you, tilting his head toward the couch. "Took him long enough." 

"It’s always him," you mutter, shaking your head. 

"It was Wonwoo first." 

"Wonwoo doesn’t count. He chooses sleep." 

Mingyu grins, eyes crinkling at the edges, his dark, tousled hair—slightly messy from the long night—falls over his forehead, the dim light catches the sharp line of his jaw and suddenly, you’re aware  that its just the two of you now. The laughter fades, leaving something quieter in its place. 

And then it happens. 

That look. 

Mingyu leans his head back against the couch, watching you in that way that makes your stomach twist. His gaze is dark, unreadable, and smirking. you feel it—lingering too long on your face, dropping to your lips.  

He’s fucking smirking at you.  

Like you guys didnt kiss each other just hours ago.  

Your breath catches. Heat pools in your stomach, climbs up your spine, wraps around your throat until your face burns. It’s impossible to ignore the way your body reacts to him, impossible not to remember the way he felt pressed against you, the way he almost— 

No. 

You need to move. You need to do something—anything—to break the tension before it swallows you whole. 

So you stand up. 

Quickly. Too quickly. You busy yourself with the mess on the table, grabbing empty glasses, snack wrappers—anything to keep your hands occupied, your mind distracted. You can still feel his gaze pressing into you, following your every movement like a weight on your skin. So you just move yourself to the kitchen. Yeah, that damn kitchen. 

To escape. To escape him. 

But of course, he follows you. 

You focus on the counter, setting things down with a little too much force. You reach for an empty glass, then hesitate, frowning. Where does this go again? You open a random cabinet. Wrong one. You try another. Wrong again. 

Mingyu leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you struggle. His broad shoulders stretch the fabric of his shirt, and the sleeves cling to his biceps in a way that makes your fingers itch to touch. 

"Need help?" 

"No." 

"You sure?" 

"Yes." 

You find the right cabinet—finally—but as you reach up to place the glass inside, it slips. Not enough to fall, but enough for Mingyu to react. 

He leans in slightly, voice lower now. "You seem a little distracted." 

You exhale sharply, setting the glass down before you drop it for real. "I’m fine." 

He hums, unconvinced. 

Silence settles between you. Mingyu doesn’t move, doesn’t look away. Instead, he watches you—closely. His gaze lingers as you slowly place the glass in the cabinet, like he’s studying every movement, every flicker of hesitation. You feel it—his eyes, the weight of his attention pressing into your skin. 

"You’re bad at this, you know," he murmurs. 

"At what?" 

"At pretending." 

Your pulse stumbles. 

"I’m not pretending," you say, but your voice isn’t as steady as you want it to be. 

He laughs teasingly, not really believing you.  

"You’re also bad at drinking games," he teases, his voice low, laced with something deeper. He leans against the counter, too close. "Honestly surprised you’re still standing." 

You roll your eyes, feigning confidence. "It takes a lot to get me down." you say, your voice steadier than you feel. The warmth of the alcohol hums beneath your skin. "I’m not even that drunk, actually."  

"Oh, yeah?"  

He steps closer.  

No. Please, no. 

You almost whine.  

Not again. Not when you’re still weak from earlier. Not when you still feel the ghost of his breath on your skin, the way he nearly kissed you, the way he almost had you.  

You swallow hard, nodding—but it’s weak, almost shaky. And he notices. 

"So, you weren’t really that drunk yesterday? Was all of that just an act?" 

His skin glows under the kitchen light, sweat dampening his forehead, his neck. His lips are pinker than before, and when he tilts his head slightly, your knees almost give in.  

“I dont know what you mean- I-" Your voice falters, and you curse yourself for how obvious it is. He's always been able to read you, hasn't he? 

He smirks. But he knows it all too well. Without touching you, he moves. His presence alone pulls you backward, guiding your body against the counter. You find yourself pressed against the edge, your breath caught in your throat. He doesn't touch you, but it feels as if he’s controlling every inch of your movement. 

Finally, his gaze softens, but the intensity remains. He reaches up, his fingers grazing your cheek, the touch light but electric, sending a shiver through you. “Your cheeks are giving you away,” he murmurs, his voice low and knowing. “Mingyu, stop.” you whisper, as you push against his chest, it causes him to step back, just a little. His arm wraps around yours, pulling you right back into him. The movement is fast, and before you can fully react, you’re pressed against him—your chest against his, your breath shallow as you’re forced to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.  

He exhales, voice deep, teasing, but his eyes betray him. "Why? you’re not gonna ask me to stay this time? Not gonna ask me to sleep with you?"  

"I don’t even remember what I—" 

"But I do." 

He doesn’t let you go. 

He leans in, hand ghosting along your jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he’s trying to memorize it. His warmth seeps into your skin, into your bones, unraveling something inside you. 

“You were looking at me like this,” he murmurs, forehead resting lightly against yours. “Exactly like this.” 

You can feel every word against your skin. His eyes don’t leave yours. 

“Mingyu, I—” 

“You held me here.” He traces your hand over his chest, down his abs, his touch slow, deliberate. “You asked me to stay, told me not to leave”, a smirk tugging at his lips as he remembers that moment. “Shit, I thought you were fucking with me.” 

Your throat goes dry, a tightness spreading through you as his nose brushes against yours.  

“You said please,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. He slowly pushes you against the counter.  

“Say it again" he whispers, the word coming out like a plea, thick with want, yearning—almost as if he's asking to kiss you.

“Please,” he whispers. It’s barely a sound—more breath than voice—but it carries everything. A plea. A need. Like he’s not just asking for a kiss, but for permission to fall apart in your hands. 

Your chest tightens. Your fingers move before your thoughts can catch up, curling around the back of his neck, drawing him in even though you’re already impossibly close. 

His breath hitches at the movement, eyes locking with yours. And there, in the quiet space between heartbeats, he knows. 

Then he kisses you.  

Soft at first. Barely there. It’s slow, careful—his lips brushing yours, like he’s learning the shape of you through every careful pass. 

Then again—deeper this time. More sure. 

His hands find their way to your cheeks, holding you, steadying you, like he can't pull away even if he wanted to. He hums against your lips, a soft relief, like he's been waiting for this. And he was. 

But the moment his mind catches up with the taste of you—he’s lost. 

The kiss turns desperate, all softness bleeding into something needier. Like if he stops, even for a second, it might all slip away. 

Your hands are everywhere—roaming, exploring. He nudges you gently until your back hits the counter, the edge cool against your spine. Your palms press to the surface behind you, steadying yourself as the bottles shift and clink under your touch. 

“Mingyu—” 

“No—”,he’s already kissing you again. 

Your protest is cut off, swallowed by his mouth, his kiss harder now. Like he’s trying to erase every reason not to. 

His hand slides to your waist, fingers pressing in, grounding himself in you. His chest brushes yours, heart pounding. 

“We should—” he exhales, his voice cracking, his lips barely leaving yours. “We should stop, right?” 

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath, brushing against the skin of his stomach. He’s warm, feverish beneath your touch. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, lips still brushing his, “they—hmh-they could come in…” 

Shit. He knows. He really fucking knows. But he’s too far in. He should stop—he knows that. But how’s he supposed to do that? When you're looking at him like that? He tried to be good. He really did. But with you like this? He’s already too far gone. 

“Mmh,” he exhales, kissing the corner of your mouth. “We should stop before...” 

But even as he says it, his hands slide down, fingertips grazing your thigh. He looks at you, like he’s checking—like he needs to make sure. And the way you're staring back? He gets his answer. 

He lifts your leg onto the counter. The bottles clink next you, sharp and loud in the quiet, like a reminder of where you are but — 

“Yes—mmh—we should stop before anyone—” 

But then he hums, low and rough, as his hand moves to your chest. Fingers glide up, brushing over your breast, and your breath stutters.  

“We should… fuck-” His voice trembles. “Go to sleep.” 

He’s trying. God, he’s trying. 

But his mind is lost in you. Like he’s clinging to every thread of control he has left. 

 “Yeah,” you whisper back, breathless. Your hand slides under his shirt again, feeling the way he trembles under your touch. 

“I should go to sleep…”, you smile to yourself.  

“Yes- We should go to sleep,” he says, pulling off his shirt. 

You watch his skin glows golden under the dim lamp, and when he runs a hand through his hair—black strands sticking up in every direction—you almost loose it. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but damn. 

He takes your hands, places them on his chest, his abs—letting you feel him. And then he kisses you again. 

“Shit,” he breathes. “I can’t… I can’t fucking stop.” 

You're still on the counter, legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, even as his hands slide up, cupping your tits, grazing the edge of your bra, his mouth finding your neck. 

“Fuck— Mingyu,” you moan, soft but breathless. 

“Don’t do that,” he groans. “-Fuck.” 

You tug off your shirt, and he just stares for a second. 

Out of breath, hair a mess, half-dressed. This—this is what he dreamed about for far too long. 

You reach for his belt, pulling him back in. 

“We can’t be loud,” you whisper. “Be quiet, Mingyu.” 

He smirks like you’ve just dared him. Like being quiet is a challenge. 

He kisses you hard, pressing his dick against you—exactly where you want him. You moan into his mouth, hands in his hair, kissing him like this might be the last time. Because maybe it is. 

He trails kisses down your neck, then your chest—his mouth warm over your bra, licking and sucking. You feel everything, but it’s not enough. You need more. 

“Mingyu, don’t—don’t tease.” 

“We can’t be loud, right?” he smirks to himself. You whine in response. 

One hand cups your breast while the other runs across his lips, tasting you . You bite down on your lip, trying to quiet every moan that threatens to slip. His hands are so big on you, his mouth so unbelievably good. 

You pull him back to your lips, needing to feel him—needing to let those moans escape where only he can hear them. 

“More,” you breathe, your hand drifting lower, palming him through his pants. 

The alcohol is blurring your filter, but you don’t care. You want him. 

Still, he doesn’t give in. Not fully. Not yet. 

He kisses you deeper—your lips, your throat—grinding against you like he’s losing control. Like you’re the one driving him insane. He thinks he’s teasing you, but maybe he’s torturing himself just as much. 

You dig your nails into his back, kissing along his shoulder. The intimacy of it gives you goosebumps, sets your skin on fire. 

You can’t take it anymore. Your hands go to his belt, fingers working it open as your eyes meet his. 

“Shit,” he exhales. Mingyu shakes his head “Not here.” 

“Not here?” you whisper, almost whining. 

His hands find your waist again, sliding lower, between your legs. 

His fingers are a little cold, and the touch makes you gasp.  

“Mingyu-” 

“Spread your legs for me,” he says lowly, never breaking eye contact. 

You do. 

He moves slowly at first, teasing your clit, eyes locked on every little reaction your face gives away. 

Your mouth parts open slightly, breath hitching. 

“Hm? That sensitive?” he asks, speeding up just a little. 

A soft moan slips from your lips as you grip his arms, trying to steady yourself. 

And then his finger slides inside. 

Then another. 

While his thumb keeps working your clit, making you lose your mind. 

“You like seeing my hands between your legs?” he rasps, still watching you. 

You can’t even look away—neither of you can. 

He kisses you, and you moan right into his mouth. 

“You like the way that feels?” he asks. “So wet for me already…” 

You try not to, but his names slips out of your mouth.  

“Shit. Didn’t we talk about being quiet?”, voice low, watching you all desperate and squirming under his touch. 

And you can feel it building—right there, right under his fingers. 

“Fuck, yeah. Like this”, he whispers. You’re so close. 

His fingers move just right—fast, precise, relentless—and your body can’t take it anymore. It hits you all at once. You gasp, eyes squeezing shut, legs trembling as the orgasm rolls through you.  

He doesn’t stop until you're done—his fingers slow down, helping you through it, letting you ride it out as your whole body shudders against him. 

Then he kisses you—soft, almost sweet, lips warm and slow. You melt into it, dizzy, still catching your breath. 

He smiles into the kiss, smug as hell. “You think they heard you?” 

You smack his chest, face burning, and he just laughs—loud, unbothered—and gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s nothing. 

“Time to sleep,” he says, all casual, like he didn’t just make you fall apart on the kitchen counter. 

You’re still dazed, legs weak, not even trying to get up when he picks up your clothes. And just as you’re wondering what now, he lifts you—hands under your thighs and back—carrying you. 

You bury your face in his neck, skin still warm, and you can feel him chuckling, chest shaking under your cheek.  

He carries you into your room, setting you down on the bed,you lean back on your elbows, chest rising and falling, still hazy from your high—but your eyes are locked on him. The soft light from the hallway hits his skin just right. His abs flex as he moves, still shirtless, just his jeans hanging low on his hips.  

You're supposed to be tired. You’re supposed to be done. 

But your body says otherwise. 

He notices your stare. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

You tilt your head. “Like what?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, almost flustered, but that smirk is back.  

“Like you want more. You know I lose control when you do that.” 

You lean forward, lips brushing into a small, wicked smile. “Hm, really?” 

He curses under his breath. 

You shift onto your knees, crawling closer to where he’s standing by the bed, teasing, until you’re eye level with his lips. You watch him closely, deliberately. His eyes darken, flickering down to your mouth. 

“You’re testing my patience,” he mutters. 

“I’m just being like always,” you say, like it’s innocent—but the way you graze your fingers over his belt says otherwise. 

He laughs, low and rough. “You’re impossible.” 

Then he kisses you, hard, like he’s finally letting go again.  

Your hands move lower, reaching for him, cupping him as you finally try to undo his belt. But he gently brushes your hands away, shaking his head. 

“Mhh, no,” he says against your lips, voice deep and determined. “I’m not done with you.” 

His hand finds your waist, guiding you back down to the bed without breaking the kiss. You sigh into it, helpless under his touch.  

Mingyu slips off your bra, he trails kisses down your collarbone, your chest—slow. His mouth lingers on your breasts, lips and tongue teasing. You’re biting back a moan when he lightly sucks on your nipple. His other hand slides lower, down your side, until it reaches your hips. You gasp as his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties. 

He pulls them down slowly, watching every flicker of your expression like it’s something he doesn’t want to miss. Like he’s imprinting it in his mind. 

Then he kisses lower—over your stomach, your hips your inner thighs. His lips brush every part of you except where you want him most. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, and it’s driving you insane.  

You breathe in sharply when his mouth finally finds you. His tongue moves in slow, careful circles over your clit, your fingers already tangling in the sheets. He’s gentle at first, like he’s still learning, but his confidence grows fast. And it’s not just skill—it’s the way he pays attention. The way he listens to every sound you make, every breath you take He groans into you, like he needs it just as badly. 

You can barely focus. Your thoughts are scattered. All you know is heat. His tongue. That pressure building again, way too fast.  

You peek down at him, and the sight almost ruins you. His eyes are half-lidded, completely focused —locked on yours. His brows slightly furrowed like he’s concentrating, feeling you, not just tasting. His grip tightens on your thighs as you move, and he groans against you—fuck, he’s into it. 

And in his head? He’s losing it. 

This is all he ever wanted. 

He’d dreamed about this—too many nights, too many times imagining what you'd sound like, taste like, how you’d fall apart under his mouth. But none of it compares to this—flushed, needy, eyes fluttering, mouth open with every breathy moan. And the way you say his name? 

Yeah, he’s gone. 

He’s so mad at himself—mad that he waited this long, mad that he let you be so close for so long without touching you like this. But right now? He’s making up for it. 

He presses your thighs open wider, groaning at the way you react. His tongue starts to move faster now, rougher, more deliberate. Circling, sucking, teasing. You whimper his name—desperate, breathless—and he loves it. Every moan you try to bite back just makes him go harder. 

“Mingyu—fuck—” you breathe, legs trembling under his grip. 

And he just hums into you in response, lips curved, like he’s proud of the way you fall apart for him all over again. 

He slips a finger inside you, and your back arches, a loud gasp ripping from your throat before you can stop it. You glance down—his mouth still on you, tongue still moving—and you can see it. 

That smug little smile. 

You actually want to slap him for it. But God, it feels so good. Too good. 

You shove your finger between your lips, biting down hard, because otherwise you'd be moaning his name. 

Trying to not wake anyone. But he makes it impossible. His finger curls just right, finding that spot that makes your whole body clench, and then— 

A second finger. Thicker. Deeper. You cry out into your arm, hand flying to his hair, gripping hard—more for your sanity than his guidance. 

This isn’t what you had in mind when you got drunk last night—but fuck, you’re not complaining. 

“Mingyu—I’m going to—” 

You can barely get the words out, voice all shaky. He pulls back just a little, breath heavy against your thigh, fingers still pumping into you slow and deep, while looking at you in your eyes. 

“Not yet,” he says, voice low, but wrecked. “Just a little longer, please?” 

You want to curse at him, cry, beg—but all that comes out is a desperate whine. You throw your head back into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. 

You need it. 

But he knows that. He wants you right there. He wants to watch you fall apart again—and know it’s him doing it to you. 

His fingers speed up, more precise now, like he knows exactly how much you can take. His tongue’s back on you—licking, moaning with you, vibrating against you. 

And when he lifts your legs up, resting them on his broad shoulders—you can’t take it anymore. 

Your whole body clenches. The heat crashes over you so fast it steals your breath. Your hands still tangled in his hair as he stays with you till wave ends. 

He doesn’t let go. He holds you through it, still licking you soft and slow, humming gently like he’s calming you down from a high only he could give. 

He smiles to himself, then leans in to kiss you again—slow, deep. You can still taste yourself on his lips. You kiss him back. your body’s still buzzing, but God, you're tired. 

Eventually, he lets himself drop back onto the bed beside you, one arm flung lazily over his eyes. You're both breathing hard, skin warm and flushed. 

“You tired?” he murmurs, voice a little hoarse. 

You hum, eyes still closed. “Yes… but no.” 

He lets out a quiet laugh, shifting just enough to peek at you from under his arm. “What kinda answer is that?” 

You giggle softly, brain still foggy. “You?” 

“Kinda, yeah.” He drags a hand through his messy hair. “You seriously drive me insane. I was tense the whole damn day… like some fucking college kid with a crush.” 

You smile to yourself. “Oh yeah? You deserved it. You made me wait long enough.” 

He lifts his head, resting on his elbows now, eyebrows raised. “I made you wait?Are you kidding? I was trailing after you like a damn dog for months. Everyone saw it. Everyone. Except for— you. They made fun of me. Hoshi even gave me names. He called me a puppy!” 

“You didn’t do anything either!” you shoot back. “And it’s not my fault—you’re nice to everyone!” 

“Yeah, but…” he pauses, and you can feel something shift in the air between you. You look at him, waiting for ending the sentence. 

“I’m only in love with you.” 

The words are soft. Steady. No hesitation, no teasing this time. And it hits you. Your heart stutters—you look at him, searching his face, trying to read the truth in his eyes.  He meant it. Every word.  

Your lips part, but no answer comes. Not yet. Instead, your gaze drops—his chest still rising fast, the muscles of his stomach tense, his jeans still unbuttoned, the bulge beneath his boxers so obvious now.  

A slow smile curls on your lips.  

“You waited that long?”, drawing the word out, fingers drifting low on his stomach. 

He groans, tossing his arm back over his face. “Don’t mock me.” 

You lean in. “What did they call you again?” Your hand cups him through his boxers—he’s already hard. 

He lets out a long breath through his nose, biting back a curse. 

“Stop playing…” he mutters, but it’s weak—he doesn’t really mean it. 

Your voice dips lower. “Did Hoshi call you a puppy?” 

“Mhm—  a puppy in love, he said.” 

A slow smirk tugs at your lips as your hand dips beneath the waistband of his boxers, fingers wrapping around him. He’s hot, thick, and already leaking. He groans—sharp and low. 

“Fuck—don’t tease—” 

You pull down his jeans and boxers in one slow motion, freeing his cock. He twitches in your hand. 

“So much pre-cum…” you say. “Were you really about to cum in your pants, Gyu?” 

He laughs at himself, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, yes—almost.” 

You bite your lip, your hand moving slow at first, teasing.  His breath catches. “Shit—I’m sensitive.” 

You watch the way his expression shifts—brows knit together, lips parting, chest rising quicker with every breath. 

  “Don’t—ahh—your hands…” he groans, voice breaking around the words. 

You go a little faster. His hips twitch. A breathless moan slips from his lips and he grabs at the sheets. 

“What if I..” You lean in, breath ghosting over the tip of his cock. You give a soft lick, just once—just to see. 

“Shit— cant you just—” he gasps, jaw clenched tight.  

You look up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “Not so loud,” you whisper. “What if they hear you like this?” 

He lets out a desperate sound, biting down on his fist, like that’ll help. 

You smirk, finally taking him into your mouth—slow, deep, with deliberate pressure. His whole body jerks. 

He’s trying to hold back. He doesn’t even dare to look at you. Because if he does—if he watches your lips wrapped around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut, your head moving slow and steady—he’ll lose it. Completely. 

You suck him deeper, your lips wrapped tight, tongue tracing every inch. He’s so responsive, so sensitive, every little flick making him twitch in your mouth. His thighs tense beneath your hands, and the soft, ragged sounds coming from his throat only make you want more. 

“Shit—” he gasps, a hand reaching down, not to push you away—but to ground himself. His fingers tangle in your hair, not guiding, just holding. 

You glance up. His head’s tossed back, lips parted. 

He tries to hold still. Tries not to fuck up into your mouth. But the way you’re working him—slow, then fast, then slow again—it’s driving him insane. 

And then suddenly— 

“Wait—fuck, baby—stop.” 

You try to understand why he pulled away—lips still parted, his length heavy in your hand—and then you hear it. Footsteps. The faint creak of the bathroom door down the hall. Someone’s awake. 

instead of stopping, you stroke him—slow, deliberate—watching his eyes flutter, jaw clench tight. 

“Shit, baby…” he whispers, voice tight, “I can’t hold it in. I’m gonna—” 

  You lean up, cutting him off with a kiss. A soft hush. You don’t want him too loud either. But he’s still so hard, throbbing in your hand, and the way he kisses you back—messy and desperate—tells you how badly he’s struggling. 

He sits up slowly, his hands grip your waist, pulling you into his lap like he can’t help it. You settle over him, straddling, still bare, your pussy brushing his cock. The friction makes you both gasp—his tip slides right against your folds, wet and hot and so wrong. So good. 

“Fuck—” he groans into your mouth. “Baby, your pussy… it's—shit—it’s right there.”  

“I know,” you whisper, lips brushing his. You roll your hips, letting his cock glide through your slick folds, not quite inside, but enough to make him lose his breath. “But we’re not having sex, right?” 

His hands squeeze your hips tighter, trying to steady you, but you keep grinding—slow, delicious pressure. His cock slides over your clit just right, making you both shiver. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathes. 

“But you like it,” you whisper against his jaw, biting it gently. 

“Fuck baby, I love it. You feel—mhm—fuck.” He’s unraveling beneath you, hips jerking up once, just barely. 

You smirk and keep going. Little circles. Little rocks of your hips. You moan quietly, lips brushing his ear. “What if I came like this? Just from grinding on your cock?” 

“Dont fucking talk like that. Shit—” 

And then he says it—low, strained, breathless: 

“Just the tip?” He meets your eyes, voice barely a whisper. “It wouldn’t count… right?” 

The smirk on your lips falters when you feel him shift beneath you. He looks at you, one arm wrapping around your waist. His tone drops lower—deeper, more confident now. “Say yes.” 

You nod. That’s all he needs. 

He pulls you down—slowly—just enough to push the head of his cock inside. You gasp at the stretch, at how thick he feels, even like this. He holds you there, both of you trembling, his forehead resting against yours.  

You whimper, but before you can speak, he moves. He rocks his hips up—just once, shallow, purposeful. Enough to make you cry out and cling to him. 

He chuckles, quiet and low. “Told you. Just the tip, and already look at you…” 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he loves it. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs, guiding your hips slowly, letting you feel all of him without giving you everything. “Look at you. So desperate to be full, huh?” 

You nod again, helpless. “Please…” 

He tilts your chin up, kissing you softly—then deeper, filthier. “You want more?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

He hums, leaning back to look at you. “Then ask me.” 

You swallow hard, but your mouth stays shut, lips parted, breath shallow. You know what he wants to hear— but something  in you won’t give it to him that easily. Not yet. 

“Hm?” he says softly, eyes narrowing with the hint of a smirk. “No?” 

His hands slide down your sides, slow and sure. He shifts his hips under you—just the head of his cock still buried inside, pulsing—and rolls them up ever so slightly. Just enough to make your breath hitch. 

“You gonna make me work for it, huh?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your jaw. One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers trailing over your clit in featherlight circles. You jerk forward instinctively, gasping. 

“Fuck—Mingyu—” 

“Still not asking,” he mutters, almost amused, his voice thick with restraint. 

He keeps circling, teasing—soft, slow, maddening. At the same time, he rocks his hips again, just a little, dragging himself barely an inch deeper inside you. Your body clenches down, desperate for more. 

You whimper, hands braced on his chest, trying not to completely melt. He’s watching you now, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every twitch, every shaky breath. 

His free hand grips your ass, guiding you into a slow, lazy grind against him. The friction makes your head spin—you can feel the tip of his cock pressing right there, and his fingers still working you, too slow to satisfy, too perfect to ignore. 

You try to hold on—but your body betrays you, chasing the rhythm, chasing more. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but your pride holds them back just a moment longer. 

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “I’ll keep going like this all night,” he whispers, voice rough. “Just like this. Teasing you. Keeping you full, but never enough. Is that what you want?” 

“N-No,” you breathe, almost a sob. Your legs are shaking now, your whole body aching. 

“Say it,” he whispers. You break. You can’t take it anymore. 

“Please—Mingyu—fuck me.” 

And the second those words leave your mouth, his expression shifts—something deeper, darker flashes in his eyes. 

He grabs your waist with both hands and sinks you down onto him in one slow, devastating thrust, filling you inch by inch until you’re gasping his name, your body going taut. 

“There you go,” he breathes, his voice strained, jaw clenched. “Fuck—you take me so well.” 

You’re panting, hips rolling instinctively, but he slows you down with a firm grip. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I want to feel you like this. Just… stay here a second.” 

You can feel him pulsing inside you, his hands roaming your back, your hips, your thighs like he’s trying to memorize every part of you. He presses kisses to your neck, slow and hot. 

Then he starts to move—hips snapping up, controlled, deep. Not rough, but precise. He watches your face the whole time, eyes flicking down to your parted lips, your fluttering lashes, the way you gasp when he hits that spot inside you. 

“You feel me right there?” he growls against your ear. “Right where you needed it?” 

You nod frantically, fingers clutching his shoulders, your voice broken. 

“Tell me,” he urges, his tone softer now, coaxing. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” 

“So good—fuck, so deep—Mingyu—” 

He kisses you again, grinning into it, just a little cocky now that you’re coming apart in his hands. His pace quickens, your moans slipping free with every thrust, louder, needier. 

And then he stills, his grip on your waist tightening. 

“Ride me,” he says, voice low and hoarse. “Fuck yourself on my cock. Let me watch you.” 

You bite your lip, breath shaky, but you shift your weight and begin to move—slow at first, dragging your hips in circles, rolling against him. He groans, loud, his head tipping back, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you from beneath messy strands of hair. 

“That’s it, baby,” he pants. “Just like that—fuck—look at you.” 

You start to bounce, the rhythm building as his hands slide down to your hips, helping, guiding, squeezing. The sound of skin on skin fills the air, filthy and wet and perfect. You can’t stop moaning, can’t stop grinding down onto him—because he’s so deep, and you’re so full, and it’s too much. 

You’re close. You can feel it coiling deep in your stomach. 

“I—Gyu—I’m—” You don’t even finish. Your body seizes up, every muscle tightening as you cry out his name and fall apart around him, shaking, pulsing, gasping. 

“Let go, baby,” he whispers, his voice wrecked. “Cum for me. Right here, right on my cock.” 

He’s right there with you—watching you fall apart around him has him unraveling, too. His fingers tighten at your waist, jaw clenched, a desperate groan tearing from his throat. 

“I’m gonna cum—fuck, I can’t hold it—” 

“Cum inside me,” you breathe, still trembling, your voice barely more than a whimper. You’re still fluttering around him, soaked and warm, and the plea in your voice pushes him right over the edge. 

With a broken moan of your name, he buries himself deep, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, pulsing hot and thick. He holds you tight through it, his face tucked into your neck, breath shaky and warm against your skin. 

For a while, neither of you moves. There’s just the sound of your heartbeats, the rise and fall of your chests pressed together. 

Then he presses a kiss to your shoulder. Then your jaw. Then your lips—soft, lingering. You both smile into it, drunk on the closeness. 

As the haze starts to fade, you shift your hips, starting to lift off him gently. 

But his arms tighten, holding you in place. 

“No,” he murmurs, half-pleading. “I wanna stay inside you a little longer.”  

You sink back down with a quiet laugh, and he whimpers. 

“Shit,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m still sensitive…”  

You smile, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead and kiss the mole on the tip of his nose. He blinks up at you, wide-eyed and flushed—and then he just starts to laugh. His hair is a wreck, his lips still kiss-bruised, and his collarbone is marked where you bit him earlier. But it’s his eyes that undo you—bright and crinkled at the corners. 

You laugh too, even if you’re not sure why. “What?” you ask, grinning.  

He shakes his head, still smiling like he can’t believe you’re real.

“I’m a fucking puppy in love.”  

a/n: it’s done!! finally. i’m so sorry for making you guys wait this long, but i’m actually really happy with how it turned out. i hope you like it just as much as i do ⭑.ᐟ thank you so much for waiting patiently—your comments were seriously the sweetest and so, so kind. ⋆.˚

fun fact about the whole “jealousy” story: this actually started out as a completely different story. i was inspired by that one gif of mingyu at the gym, and had this whole plot in mind… but then i realized it needed some context to make sense, and somewhere along the way, it just turned into this. so yeah, that’s why san’s little cameo feels kinda random 😭 BUT i’m thinking of turning that original idea into a bonus part for this one instead...would you want to read it?? let me know in the comments, in my dms, wherever—i’d love to hear from you!!

love youuuu xoxo ౨ৎ

My cute little 🏷️ taglist:

@wseye @wooahaeivy @dinow13 @httpscoco444 @jihoonsbbygirl @tigersandcherries @souleater440 @gyuldaengie97 @potayaa @mmingooo @ninigyuuu @littlewolfieposts @amingo046 @saturnesposts @starsewl @saltyfriendsaladbandit @imhwajaez @perfectlycleverface @chykyu @gohyemi @baekhyunimochibbh @gh0stprinceess @holyfestfire @id7lso @zimzalaminho @hellosighsophy-blog @my-woozi @sumeyyetuna

Honorable tag: @maplegyu

thank you for enjoying my fic and supporting me! It means a lot!

☆ warnings: alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sub mingyu, soft dom reader, pussy drunk mingyu, manhandling, mingyu is low key a simp, reader is so down bad for him it is embarrassing, reader is on birth control, both mingyu and reader are lowkey toxic, size kink, big dick mingyu, use of sex toys, squirting, masturbation, foul language, dirty talking, lots of making out, reader has a bit of difficulty reaching her high, a bit of dry humping, oral sex (f. receiving), body worshipping, cowgirl, edging, unprotected p in v sex, creampies, aftercare. pet names: baby, shorty, pretty, (hers)

☆ acknowledgements: first things first! big thanks to @nonuify who suggested the title for the series! thanks to @onlymingyus who suggested a cute pet name for reader (that is, sugar which will come in the future), @miniseokminnies, @bitchlessdino and @wonustars for helping brainstorming for ideas hehe ty ty 🩵

also thanks to vee and @wooahaeproductions who helped me proofread this 🩵

☆ author's note: helloooooo! welcome to the hannieverse! where every single fic i've written is connected somehow! this series is closely connected to heartbreaker. though i don't think it is necessary to read that one in order to read this one here, but if you haven't read that one yet, be my guest hehe

☆ author's note 2: we have another reader self-insert!! i wish i could start self-inserting the things that are actually nice about my life... and not angst, bad sleeping habits and heartbreak (┬┬﹏┬┬) anyway, i hope you all enjoy this one

☆ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please or i will block you.

ladies' night

Lately, work had become your second home.

Not by choice, no. It was a thing that you forced into your life to keep yourself busy. Running a business was not easy, but you had reached a point in your life where you no longer needed to work 16 hours a day. Now, you felt like you needed to be working all day long. Or else, you would go insane.

Routine. You swore by it. Wake up, get ready, go to work, traffic, clock off, more traffic, come back home, sleep, repeat.

You could make time for yourself. But there was nothing else to dedicate your time to.

Coming back to a half-packed apartment was quite discouraging. Boxes piled up. The furniture you worked so hard to buy, gone, sold. You did not even bother to turn on the light, you had memorized your way through the maze of cardboard boxes.

Maybe I should get a dog.

The keys hanging from your fingers jingled as you reached your bedroom, tossing them on the nightstand to begin undressing yourself and getting ready to sleep.

There was a row of neatly folded clothes occupying one side of the bed, clothes that were ready to be packed away. Or donated. Whatever you wanted to do the following day.

You finished peeling off the last piece of clothing from your body, neatly disposing of it in the hamper, and dragged yourself to do your nightly skincare routine.

The biggest, and probably recurring challenge you had to get through was going to sleep. You faced your bed, half covered by small towers of folded clothes making you feel a deafening agony that you could not get rid of.

You set your phone on the side table before commanding yourself to sit on the bed, your back to the piles of clothes. You had to purposefully ignore your phone before going to bed if you wanted to get an interrupted sleep.

Lying on your pillow, you stared at the ceiling, your arms sticking to your torso, fingers curled on the bedcovers. The part you dreaded the most.

You closed your eyes, avoiding every thought completely. It was a difficult feat, it was impossible.

Slowly, and tentatively, you slid a hand beneath the bed sheets, reaching out to your side, feeling the weight of the piles of clothes pressing down on your arm. The side of the bed would remain empty, and you never dared to sleep on that side.

The side where your former partner used to sleep.

A part of you itched to grab your phone. What was the point, you concluded, retreating your hand and sticking it to your body again. There was no point in trying to reimagine a life in which you had not asked your ex to leave. There was no point in wanting someone that left you feeling so empty.

Maybe I should sell the bed too.

You stared at the ceiling once again, your gaze outlining the four margins of the bedroom. Whenever the night got bad, you would do this, over and over, until everything faded to black Until you fell asleep.

You woke up before your alarm went off.

It took you some moments to realize that you did not have to go to work that day. A heavy reluctance fell upon you, making it harder to drag yourself out of the bed you were planning to sell the night before.

You brushed the thought off. Okay.

You were okay. You were going to be even better.

The morning was bleak, the pale light making you squint your eyes as soon as you drew the blinds up. But you started working at once. The first task was putting the clothes in boxes, emptying space on the bed.

You wasted no time, removing the covers and the bed sheets without much thought. You did not want to think that even though you washed the pillowcases, you could still smell your ex's cologne in them. You did not want to think back to the time you bought the bed sheets with him when you moved in together.

It was too late.

Crushed, you closed the moving boxes, moving them into neat piles. The silence was nearly deafening.

You sat on the bed and waited.

The doorbell rang. People came in and stuffed a van full of all of the boxes and the bed. When it was time to go, you took one look at the place you swore you would live with the love of your life for a long while and closed the door behind you.

Three months later.

Your old routine started to tear you down. A silent killer, slowly destroying bits and pieces of your already fragile state. You were too slow or too ignorant to see it, but in protecting your precious routine, you were destroying yourself.

First, it was your sleep. Then, it was your closest friendships. Then, you could no longer pay attention at work. You were tired, and alone.

Enough is enough, you told yourself sternly.

You decided to do new things. Explore a bit more, distract yourself, pamper yourself. Watch a new show someone recommended to you ages ago, or actually read one of the books you bought and forgot.

Living in a new part of town should not be this challenging.

You knew every single corner of the neighborhood, yet you knew no one. And living in a city so vast and so populated demanded you to do activities in the company of someone.

Part of running your own business meant that you could manage your own time. That you did, shaving some hours off of your heavy and self-inflicted work schedule and taking some time for yourself.

The first thing you did was go shopping since it could be one activity you could do by yourself. And it was distracting. You went back home, and read that book.

Maybe I could put on this show while I unpack.

Some things were still kept in boxes from when you moved into the new apartment. Mainly those with stuff you did not require immediately. Clutter. Mostly bought by you to make your other apartment feel more lived in.

Time went by and you finished watching that show. You finished reading through the pile of books you got ages ago. You bought new clothes, and got rid of those that once occupied your ex's side of the bed.

You were slowly becoming someone else.

Waking up to a new reality happens in an instant. In the middle of the day. In the middle of traffic. It is realizing that in the past you is no longer present, and you need to become someone else to fit into that reality.

At least, that was how it felt.

The red light turned green, and you pushed yourself through the traffic slowly. Maybe I should sell the car. You turned left, driving past the badly lit gym that stood on the corner, its uninviting neon purple and red lights outside.

Abruptly, you pulled up. Grabbing your purse, getting out of your car and meekly pushed open the door to the place. The myriads of different noises startled you at first. The very loud speakers mounted on every corner, the clanking of the heavy weights hitting the floor, planks hitting each other, and the occasional loud grunting of men.

The person wearing the staff uniform greeted you. The young man, though seemingly your age, looked at you up and down with bright doe eyes.

“Hi,” he nodded politely, showing you a smile adorned by a couple of ring piercings. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

The question seemed to drive a dry joke in your mind, but you paid no attention to it. “I want to register.”

His expression broke in a downturned smile, almost as if this were a quick reflex of his. You realized then, you were being quite dry.

“Please,” you added two seconds later.

“Sure,” he smiled, recovering from the awkward exchange without issue. “Follow me.”

The gym was packed, it got hotter the more you entered the place. The guy wearing the staff uniform appeared to be quite the popular person around, waving at gym goers left and right with great attitude.

You thought of mentioning it but, you just kept walking behind him to an office room secluded in one of the corners. He turned on the light and went around the small desk, sitting down on the battered office chair with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, first things first,” he turned on the chair to one side, showing you with his hand to a table pushed to the corner of the office, an old coffee maker huffed as it finished brewing. “Coffee?”

You looked at the coffee machine, and then to him. An eyebrow lifted.

“It's Thursday,” he shrugged. “We serve coffee every Thursday.”

You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “And on Fridays?”

“Ah! Do not get ahead of yourself. Maybe we can find that out tomorrow, miss...?” he pushed his eyebrows up, pulled one pen from the pencil case, and clicked it on, ready to fill out a form.

You fought the urge to laugh in his face, the awkwardness from the whole situation making your tummy feel uneasy.

You sat down on the chair, robbing the pen from his tattooed fingers. His doe eyes snapped open in surprise when you pulled the form from under his hand and started filling it out.

“Tell me prices,” you muttered, eyes focused on filling out the form, so you did not get the chance to see him smile when he let out a small breath.

“Well, that didn't go to plan,” he whispered to himself, seemingly.

Cute.

“Has it ever?”

You darted a look at him through your lashes. The guy had his eyes slightly widened, probably not expecting you to strike up a conversation of this type.

“Uh, well, yeah, but,” he stammered, like a deer in the headlights. “Only when I don’t mean it to,” he smiled sheepishly, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“Well, then, I suppose that you can give me your name so I can give you mine,” you offered, though amicably. You finished writing on the form, putting the pen down.

“Jungkook,” he nodded his head politely. “Jeon Jungkook, miss.”

You smiled at him and told him your name, pushing the form to him on the desk.

Jungkook read the details you penned on the form intently, his lips softly mouthing each word, and then he turned to the old computer sitting on one side of the desk. But then, he shook his head swiftly. “Shit, yeah. Right,” he hissed. “Prices,” he turned to you.

“You know what,” you blurted, heartbeat racing when you pulled out your card from your purse. “Just sign me up.”

“Okay,” he nodded once again, his smile growing into a more content one, leaving the shyness behind. “Welcome to Casa Pump House,” he announced proudly.

His whole face had lit up, even his eyes seemed to glimmer under the pale overhead lights. The pause that followed told you that he was expecting you to match his energy, to smile, to say something.

A stiff smile stretched the features of your face, you nodded back at him. “Thank you,” you said. However, what he did not know was that the last thing you wanted to get out of your registration to the gym was working out.

You just needed another distraction.

The man stood up at the same time you did. “Let me show you around,” he said, demeanor completely changed. He seemed nervous now.

“Oh, is it okay if we leave that for tomorrow?” you asked, suddenly feeling out of place in your work clothes.

His mouth hung open for a brief moment. “Sure,” he replied. “Of course. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, walking out of his office promptly. “Thank you, Jeon!”

You rushed through the rows of all types of machines. The noise from the heavyweights clashing together, the loud music coming from the overhead speakers, and the noises coming from men, exhaling, grunting, and such had you taking a deep breath when you came out of the place.

The night was cold, slightly damp from the mid-summer breeze. It was a stark difference from the humidity inside Casa Pump House.

You snorted. I should learn to ignore my impulsive thoughts.

You found your car, unlocking the doors. But a flashing thought overwhelmed you even more: having to sit through yet another thirty minutes of traffic, alone with your thoughts.

Turning your back from your car, you locked the doors once again, walking down the street. It could be a Thursday night when your usual would be heading home and sleeping. But the city was very much coming alive with nightlife activities.

People were walking close together, laughing, chatting, or looking at their phones. All of them had somewhere to go, somewhere they were being waited for.

Two girls holding hands walked past you, they were giggling, talking about some innocuous thing, but it caught your attention, they were pretty and looked happy.

They stopped in front of an establishment that was clearly a bar. Namely The Spot, in big neon red letters and pushed inside the place, which was booming with loud music, and the buzzing from the people crowding the place.

Once again, you sighed.

Impulsivities.

You were not exactly a drinker. But as soon as you crossed the door, you realized that the place was the answer to your every prayer. Well, no. Not quite. But close.

The place was dark, only lit by neon signs and low-hanging lamps. A cacophony of various things filled your ears: the sound of music, paired with the chattering of the crowd, the billiards in the distance clashing with everything too.

The good part was that no one paid attention to you. You quietly and inconspicuously slid on one of the high-top chairs at the lacquered bar, being approached by a girl a second later to take your order.

“Can I have a coke, please?” raising your voice over the loud speakers made your heartbeat race. You rarely ever did such a thing lately, it felt weird to do something like that again.

The girl nodded and in seconds, she slid the can of coke and a glass with ice in it in front of you.

You were glad that you were not met with concern when you ordered a coke at a bar. But then you realized that no one cared.

The place was packed with mostly women, you realized as you familiarized yourself with its adorned walls and black and white checkered floors. The bar top held a chalkboard that explained it in neat handwriting: ladies' night, buy one get one free.

“Does it apply for non-alcoholic drinks too?” you asked the girl tending the bar.

She shook her head no. “But this one is on me,” she winked at you in a friendly way, when you sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged: “You look like you need it.”

Then the girl turned and continued working, tending to other orders in the bar quite skillfully. You wondered if you announced your sadness just by walking into the place, and people noticed. Or was it that being alone in a ladies' night instantly meant that you were going through a rough time?

You need new friends.

When you broke up with your ex, you hid from the world that revolved around you as a couple. The friends you shared, the places you used to go with him, the activities you liked doing with him… It all got shoved into a drawer at the back of your mind.

So now, you felt like coming back to life. Essentially, you were finding yourself after the pain of a heartbreak. The reason behind all your most recent life's decisions.

You would never go to bars alone, for instance.

Not that you did not enjoy a drink. You did. Though during the time with your ex-partner, it was a true rarity for you to go out and drink.

So being in a bar, on a Thursday was something you had not done in years.

It was quite overwhelming. The buzzing noise, the loud music, the clanking of glass and billiards, the booming laughter and chattering...

The mood was low, dimly lit in red neon lights, the noise seemed to die down upon laying eyes on the tall man going behind the bar, passing in front of you and blocking the sight of the huge neon red sign that read, HEARTBREAKER. The contrasting light against his tall frame made him alluring, you could not help but stare.

However, your trance was cut short. He might have sensed your eyes glued to him because his zeroed on your face, unsuspecting at first. You realized instead, you know this man, the thought fell heavily in your mind, settling in the pit of your tummy.

The dark eyes glinted with recognition, the corner of his lips rising to uncover the predominant fangs as he smiled politely at you.

Kim Mingyu took one step towards the spot you were sitting in, the smile fading at once as you jumped from your stool, swiftly slipping through the door and out of the bar altogether.

Once out, you released a puffy breath. Did you just run away from Kim Mingyu?

“But did he recognize you?” your best friend from college, Mona, asked. She toyed with the tail of a cherry, dragging it on the foamy surface of her pina colada.

“I don’t know,” you squished your cheek on your palm as you propped your elbow on the table. “I didn’t stick around to find out. I don’t think he did, though.”

“Are you sure about that?” she mused.

“I’ve changed a lot, Mona,” you explained, though pointlessly since your best friend already knew what you meant. “I’m not the same kid I was when I was seventeen.”

“True. So why did you run?” she asked, blowing a puffy air up her fringe to keep it off her long eyelashes.

“It was some sort of impulse,” you tried to explain but the truth was, you did not even know the answer to that question. Hence why you resorted to call in for a meeting with the person that knew you the most.

Though it was not a meeting. You had already set a date for you to meet with your best friend long before you found out that Kim Mingyu worked at the bar around the corner of your apartment.

It had been long since you saw your best friend, partly because you kept coming up with excuses to not meet with her.

“I think,” he started, now popping the cherry in her mouth. “That you have been so buried in your own shit that you’ve started to forget how to socialize.”

You coughed up a chuckle. “Right,” you said dismissively. “And what is your recommendation, doc?”

“You should return to the bar,” she shrugged. “You have been hiding for too long. It’s time you go out more, meet new people.”

Her dark eyes bore into your face. You could feel your own pulse in your tummy. “I know,” you confessed with a strangled tone. “I’ve gotten better. I no longer think about him, you know?”

This was the reason why you had been dodging your best friend’s calls. Or cancelling plans at the last minute. This conversation was one you had been putting off for far to long but could no longer keep inside you.

“Good,” she sighed with relief, her heart-shaped face lit up with a kindness that warmed you up. “And how do you feel?”

“I feel… I used to feel angry. At him. For failing his promise to me,” you pursed your lips, swallowing hard as your voice dropped. “But now I just feel like I’m letting it go. I think that things had to happen like that for a reason.”

“He did you a kindness,” she nodded with a wise expression on her face.

You huffed. Kindness is not the word you would use. In fact, you could not come up with words to use to describe what he did to you.

“Seriously,” she insisted, straightening on her seat. “Imagine you got married! Then you would have been a loser’s wife!”

That elicited a genuine chuckle out of you. “True.”

“Not only that, but you would’ve also gotten divorced. Or who knows. But he spared you the pity of being married to him, divorcing him, or having children with his sorry ass.”

You pondered over her words for a second. Mona was there for you when you broke up with your ex. She was the first person to know the news, dropped everything to be at your doorstep within the hour of that happening.

You were grateful for Mona in more ways than one. She gave you space to grieve when you needed it. You did not even have to say it.

“So, are you going back to that bar some time soon?” she pried, leaving the tail of the cherry on her napkin, a knot neatly tied in the middle.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I chickened out. I think he did see me, and I don’t want to leave that impression.”

“Do you need back up?” she threw you a cheeky look.

Oh, she knows.

“No, I think I got it,” you reassured. “I’ll just pop in, say hi and that’s it.”

Sundays were the worst for you.

The bustling noise from the bar drowned out the heavy thumping of your heart. Keeping your head down, your eyes darted forth and then down to the glass you kept twirling with your fingers on top of the lacquered, pristine bar top.

Kim Mingyu was busy that night. Prancing side to side behind the bar, a white dishcloth resting on his shoulder. He went to pick up a new order, yanking it from the small printer and pretending to read it.

His chocolate brown eyes lifted, locking on you. With a nervous jolt in your chest, you looked at your hands again, grabbing your phone to hopefully distract yourself from the awkward but swift exchange.

“I know you.”

You drew in a breath, jolting so hard that somehow your hands pushed your drink, making some of it spill on the polished surface. “God,” you exhaled in both embarrassment and surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kim Mingyu blurted, grabbing the cloth from this shoulder and pressing it on the spilled drink. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

“No, it’s okay,” you blurted, equally nervous as him. “You caught me off guard.”

“You know what they say,” he said, pressing his lips into a smile and discarding the cloth elsewhere, setting the palms of his hands on the edge of the bar top. “People with naughty thoughts in their heads get scared easily.”

“Nobody says that,” you raised your eyes from his hands to meet his face, his smile had grown, showing now the beautiful fangs that crowned it.

“I'm pretty sure I’ve heard it before somewhere,” he tilted his head to one side.

“Or maybe you just made it up,” you arched one eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he conceded, biting his lower lip to try and hide his shy smile.

A wave of warm embarrassment washed over your face, but you found yourself smiling at the man. “It’s been a long time.”

“So you do remember me.”

“Of course I do,” you replied with a meek smile burning your cheeks.

“Then why didn't you just say hi?” he replied with some faux indignation, pursing his lips into a pout. “I thought you hadn’t recognized me and that’s why you freaked out and left.”

“You didn't say hi either,” you shrugged, shaking your head lightly when you realized it was a bad excuse. “And it hasn’t been that many years, Mingyu,” you giggled. “Of course I remember you.”

The low chuckle that came from him ignited many memories from the past. “Really? Haven’t I changed? Not even a little?”

You rolled your eyes. The very last memories you had from Kim Mingyu were when you were still in high school. Even after many years, he kept the kind smile and bright eyes, the dark long hair. The only different thing about him was that he looked huge now.

He crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your answer. It was funny to you that even when his biceps bulged beneath his black t-shirt impressively, the starry eyes brought that boyish charm he has always had.

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head slowly. “Still the same.”

“But you have changed,” he remarked, nodding his head once. You blinked at him dumbly, so he just added: “Your hair is longer. Braces are gone.”

You let out a chuckle, enjoying how the features of his face went lax at the sound of your laughter, much as if he were holding in a breath until the moment that he made you laugh.

“Spot on,” you mumbled awkwardly, grabbing your empty glass.

It was totally the opposite, though. You feel like you had lost half of your younger self when you entered your twenties. The baby fat from your face was long gone, your skin was leagues better after the brutal hormonal changes. And your body of course was not the same… there were some improvements.

“Sorry, let me refill that for you,” he quickly got to work, pulling out a new glass, filling it back up, and with one move, he slipped it into your hand. “One whisky sour.”

“Thanks,” you pressed your lips in a shy smile.

You watched as he parted his lips, pausing for a second before speaking out, until another voice, a powerful one, boomed from across the bar.

“Kim Mingyu! Get to work!”

He straightened up as if mentally being whipped by the firmness of the command. The man who called was leaning back against a pool table, arms crossed on his chest. But instead of wearing a frown on his face, there was a broad smile in it.

“Ah! Shit, I’m sorry,” he replied in a nervous stammer, wincing when the man handling the bar alongside him slapped him on one shoulder.

“Focus, Min,” the guy who slapped him playfully smiled in a mischievous way, directing a swift glance at you and pursed his lips to keep himself from smiling any wider.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he repeated, shooting an annoyed look at the guy and rolled his eyes at him. “I thought you had it for a minute.”

“Yeah, I did,” he shrugged. “But you don’t get paid to flirt. Plus, boss is watching,” the man pressed his lips into a sly smile.

“I’m not flirting–hyung,” Mingyu widened his eyes, gritting: “She is a friend.”

“Hi,” you raised one hand at the pair of bartenders, waving at them. “I’m a friend.”

“Oops, I’m sorry,” the tall man adjusted the watch sitting on his wrist before waving back at you. “Jeon Wonwoo. Also a friend.”

“Flatmate,” Mingyu gibed with faux dismissal.

 “So I’m not your friend anymore?” Wonwoo clicked his tongue, raising his eyebrows. “Good luck with flirting again on the clock without having boss complaining.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Mingyu whined, grabbing the upcoming order expelled by the little printer behind him.

“Since I’ve been downgraded to just being a flatmate, I’m going to take a break,” he announced with an overly dramatic tone of indignation.

Mingyu’s jaw dropped in a sign of it being unjust. “Hyung!”

“I trust you can handle the bar on your own?” Wonwoo said, undoing the knot tying his waist apron that was previously wrapping him from the waist and left through the back door.

“Tsk,” Mingyu huffed, but then, despite his situation, he smiled widely. “I’m sorry about that,” he offered you a kind look. “He’s just teasing me. Please don’t mind him.”

“It seems like all of your co-workers like teasing you,” you pointed meekly, darting a look towards the other two people standing over the end of the bar.

Mingyu shot a look back, finding the girl that had welcomed you some nights ago, standing beside a tall man of pale blond hair. Both exchanged a smile, looking giddy.

“Tsk, aah,” Mingyu shook his head, and the couple laughed. “Don’t mind them,” he pleaded, resuming to focus back on his work, though part of you assumed that he was too embarrassed to face you.

So, you watched as he busied himself taking orders, handing them out to the pretty girl tending the tables. You continued sipping on your drink, distractedly looking at your phone and sending him glances, noticing that he too was looking at you. Every now and then, he would just shake his head at her in disapproval, which she ignored with a wide smile on her face.

Whenever he tried to stop in front of you to chat, he would be quickly swept away by a new order, or someone would call his name, and he would excuse himself with a quiet apology and a shy smile.

Later, the man that introduced himself to you as Jeon Wonwoo returned to the bar, slapping Mingyu on the shoulder to draw his attention. They exchanged some words, Mingyu looked aback for a second and the other pouted, mouthing: “I don’t know,” and shrugging with ease.

“Hey,” Mingyu came to you after thanking his friend. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Eh?” you tilted your head to one side, the question making your stomach drop.

“So we can catch up,” Mingyu let out a sweet giggle, realizing how his question sounded. “I’m getting kicked out for the night.”

Your eyes widened in bewilderment. “Oh, Mingyu, I’m sorry, that is not what–,”

“Relax,” he sighed. “My flatmate is covering me. He owed me one.”

“Oh,” you blurted. In that case…

“It’s been a while.”

Mingyu hummed thoughtfully, casting a look at the night sky. “Uh, eleven–ten, ten years?” he calculated.

You were exiting the bar, walking down the side of the street after you told him you were just gearing up to head home already, and he kindly offered to walk you home. “Yep. Ten years.”

“Wow,” he sighed. “We’re getting old.”

You braced yourself for one of those talks. As you entered the second half of your twenties, things got a little awkward for you. Once you would think they were stuff of fiction, something you would only see in romantic comedies or in tv shows: characters see the people surrounding their lives getting married, going on dates, honeymoons, having children while they remain a perpetual loner.

Now, you could not relate to that more.

But Mingyu was a person who did not care for those things. Even when you were both seventeen. He did not care for material things, or superficial things.

“Yeah. A little.”

You drew in a breath through your nose. The night was cold, and you could tell in the summer’s breeze that it would rain later. 

“I saw that you went in that fancy college,” he mentioned and then laughed. “And then you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Yeaaah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “I sort off eliminated all of my social media,” you frowned, remembering the reason why you had done that.

“I get it, it’s exhausting,” he shrugged.

“Did you go into that fancy college?” you returned, remembering Mingyu in those days in which he used to talk about the future, whenever you went out with your friend group. You remembered thinking that he had a bright future ahead of him whenever he would talk about studying mechanical engineering.

“Nah,” he clicked his tongue. “I quit those plans once I started working and making money. So, I’m not a mechanical engineer,” he let out a lazy giggle.

“Mmn,” you nodded. “Yeah, that happens. I’m not a graphic designer.”

“Why?” he frowned. “That’s all you talked about with your friends!”

You looked at him, perplexed to know that Kim Mingyu ever paid attention to you. Within your friend group, you were the least he had in common with. So even when you crossed paths, you never talked to each other aside from small friendly stuff.

“I started working as a translator… Started making money,” you sent him a knowing look.

“Yeah, I get it,” he chuckled. “But do you enjoy it at least?”

“Of course,” you smiled, though you could not ignore the way that your heartbeat faltered. “I work independently, though I do rent an office not far from here actually…” you said, pointing to the street where you were about to turn.

“Nice! I live in the area too, so maybe we’ll run into each other one day,” he mentioned.

“It’s nice to know I have a friendly neighbor,” you smiled. “I just moved here.”

“Oh, then let me show you around some day!” his eyes lit up. “There are a ton of places you probably don’t know of, like the bakery on the next alley, or the coffee shop right next to it, they serve really good breakfasts.”

“That would be nice,” you grinned.

Mingyu showed you a toothy grin, pausing in his step so you could catch up to him since he moved faster than you.

“Hey, about what happened back at the bar,” he motioned a finger to the bar. “I’m sorry about that. My friends can be a bit of dickheads.”

“No, it’s alright, I get it,” you shrugged. “A bit of in-work bantering can lighten up the shift sometimes,” you put simply.

“That and the fact that they have been teasing me for a while now. They try hard to distract me,” he rolled his eyes. But realizing how he came off, he added. “I had a nasty breakup not too long ago. It’s like they think I’m going to break soon. It’s annoying.”

“Can I ask how it happened?” you wondered, feeling your heartbeat falter when you finish uttering the words to a question that perhaps, might be too daring.

Kim Mingyu dug his hands in the pockets of his black denim jeans, sucking in a breath between his teeth. He pushed his shoulders up, that was when you noticed that the chill in the summer air was finally starting the get to him.

“She got into a new job,” he started, his eyes set far ahead on the way in front of you. “At the beginning, I thought that she was just happy from getting her big job. But then, she started saying things.”

As you walked beside him, you tried to keep your eyes trained on the tall man, but then he blinked rapidly, dropping his puppy eyes to his feet.

“She'd say things about my job,” he swallowed hard, and you could almost feel the pain he felt upon remembering. “I thought nothing of it at first, thought she was encouraging me to get a job with higher pay but...”

You nodded, and he sent you a glance in understanding. He did not need to say more about it, and he probably did not want to repeat the hurtful comments.

“And then,” he continued, and his tone dropped: “She started talking about her boss.”

He shook his head silently and exhaled through his nose, lifting his gaze up to the night sky.

“Time passed and the comments got meaner, she started ghosting me and I thought of breaking things off,” he swallowed hard once again, as if trying to mask his pain with it. “I got a call one day from a friend, telling me they saw her entering a restaurant with another man,” you saw him turn his hands into fists inside his pockets. “I guess she forgot that I had the day off that day, so she never thought I'd be waiting for her outside her apartment.”

“Did she...” you blurted out, your heart palpitating in your ears. You braced yourself to hear it, because you knew from before that his pain and yours were too alike.

“Yeah,” he croaked, blinking for a long second. “For weeks.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you covered your mouth with one hand. “I'm sorry, Mingyu.”

“I'm alright,” he shrugged once more, nodding as if to himself. “I think I'm grateful for her mean attitude towards me because in a way she softened the blow, but it still hurts.”

“I know,” you conceded. “It isn’t easy.”

However, you were raging inside. Some nights, the worst ones, you wonder what you did wrong to deserve everything that your ex did to you. The broken promises, the lies, the ghosting, your trust being brutally shattered.

“The worst thing is the shame,” he sent a glance at you, dragging his foot on the concrete to kick one rock that stood in the way of the park.

You nodded in silence.

“I never told my friends,” he confessed, his eyes were outlining the tree branches. “When it happened, I just told them that she was the one who broke up with me... I've never told them the truth.”

“You are not obligated to,” you muttered, a cold shudder added to your already chilled body making you pause.

“I just couldn't do it,” he muttered. “And the reason isn’t to protect her image, though at the beginning I thought it was… I just don’t want to the pity.”

You crossed your arms close to your chest. “And how are you now?”

“I’m okay,” he said with a reassuring tone. “I like to think that I’ve let it go already.”

Something made your tummy twist. You were familiar with the feeling, but decided not to mention it, since you felt that your past with your ex was no longer relevant.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said.

You frowned at him. “What for?”

“For dumping all of this on you, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You realized that as you walked down the park, that you had remained quiet, and perhaps Mingyu mistook your silence for something other than you just pondering about how familiar his situation was to yours.

“Oh, please no, don’t worry, Mingyu,” you showed him a kind smile.

“I don’t want to bother you with that. I just…” he scratched his neck absentmindedly. “I had never talked about this with anyone, and the words just flew out of my mind, you know?”

You nodded; you knew that all too well. “It’s okay, Gyu,” you insisted. “I’m not bothered. I don’t think it’s wrong to talk about that. After all, it is part of you, and I asked because I was curious.”

Mingyu looked at you for a long second. “I appreciate that,” he kissed his own lower lip, nodding in gratitude. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Hey, it’s nothing. You’re walking me home, so consider us even,” you pointed.

“You owe me nothing for that,” he pouted slightly, pausing his step in the middle of the basketball court you both were crossing to get to the other side of the neighborhood.

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged. “Since you were kind to me, I guess what I can do is listen to your woes,” you added playfully.

“My woes,” he grinned, clicking his tongue. “Really? You’re a tease,” he insisted, his eyes spotting something on the far corner of the court.

He sprinted towards the forgotten ball, grabbing it with one hand and started to bounce it as he walked back to you.

“Remember when we used to do this?” he asked, standing outside the box and turned to look at you, raising his arms with the ball ready on one hand.

Your tummy fluttered at his words. “Course I do, Gyu. It wasn’t that long ago,” you pointed.

He referred to the times when you used to go out in your friend group, you would go to stroll and have picnic nights with booze right next to the river, and then you would go to the park to watch the boys play basketball.

“I feel like seventeen happened forever ago,” he sighed, confidently throwing the ball which dodged the hoop quite miserably.

You snorted.

Mingyu shot a sullen look at you. “D’you think you can do better than me?” he challenged, but a shy smile drew on his face.

“Oh, most definitely,” you chuckled, but caught the ball with your hands when he passed it to you.

“Right, show me,” he nodded to the hoop.

You grinned, getting ready to shoot your shot. “What do I get if it goes in?”

Mingyu blinked. “You get,” he paused to think. “A round of applause.”

“What?” you gasped.

“A chocolate bar,” he giggled but when you did not reply, he said: “And if you don’t, you’ll get a forehead flick.”

“What, why?” you asked with a faux scandalized tone. “You didn’t get a forehead flick, why should I?”

The giggled that bubbled in his mouth was high and cute at the same time. “Those are the rules.”

“Your rules suck,” you huffed, and finally threw the ball.

It of course, did not go even near the hoop. Mingyu laughed the second that the trajectory of the ball dived before it even went close to the hoop, the sound was so contagious you found yourself resisting to laugh.

“Rules are rules,” he said, locking his middle finger with the pad of his thumb, forming a circle with his joined fingers.

“No, wait—Mingyu!” you squealed then the tip of his middle finger clashed with your forehead, flicking you swiftly. Pain flashed across your skin, but it quickly dissipated, leaving a tingle behind.

“Those were the rules, you agreed!” he giggled again, dodging your hand as you tried to push his shoulders.

“Then you should get one too,” you struggled to keep up with him, every single one of the fists you threw at him dodged quite effortlessly.

“The rules were settled after I threw,” he let out a small squeal when one of your fists nearly collided with his shoulder, but he was still quicker than you.

“Come here you-,” you gasped, your body was neatly trapped in his arms.

Your gaze shot up to find his, overwhelmed by the very pressure of his skin against yours.

“Stay put,” he panted. The tips of his ears were painted red, his eyes had lit up. The smile he wore on his face was just as overwhelming as feeling his big arms surrounding you.

But you sneaked a hand between your bodies, flicking off his forehead with a triumphant smile. “Dummy,” you whispered, a giggle bubbling in your chest. Joy bloomed inside you, warming up your face.

He lifted a hand to rub his forehead, letting you go. “Ack, but you played dirty!” he complained, holding the pads of his fingers to his forehead.

“No, I didn’t, you did,” you remarked, looking at him as he gave you a lazy smile.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he kissed his teeth. “I’ll get my revenge on you.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” you lifted your hands, flickering them in a scared motion. 

The sky rumbled above you. Mingyu looked up and you followed. “We should get going,” he said.

As you left the park, you made your way along the sidewalk where your building was located. Then a hand came to your waist, gently prompting you to walk along the side of the buildings instead of along the edge of the sidewalk.

The touch was minimal, fleeting. But your mouth went dry, searching his face for any sign that he knew what he had done to you with such an insignificant gesture.

Your heart stammered against your chest, quite uncontrollably, it made it hard for you to breathe properly. You raised your head when you got to your building. “We’re here,” you stepped in the first step of the stairs that led to the door of the building, pausing to look back at his face. “Thank you, Min.”

The smile that drew on his face knocked the air out of your lungs. “You are welcomed,” he said, emphasizing each word adorably.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you,” you muttered awkwardly, hating that he had flustered you with so little and had no idea about it.

“Oh, yes,” he swiftly fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “We should exchange numbers, in case there is anything you need.”

You sighed shortly through your nose, a thing he did not notice. “Sure,” you said, pulling out your phone and gave him your number.

“I’m mostly busy at the bar but, maybe we could go out for coffee, so we can catch up properly?” he asked.

That gave you a reason to pause. You were certain that he was not asking you for a date, but why had you become so nervous at the thought of going out with Kim Mingyu?

“Of course, I’d love that,” you grinned. “Goodnight.”

And then you ran into your building. Running away from Mingyu for a second time.

You struggled to get sleep that night.

Staring at the ceiling, you grew more and more restless, and even more aware of the thing that lied beneath your bed, inside one of the drawers of the bed frame.

A long, whiny sigh of resignation spilled from you before you could get a hold of your actions. You rolled to the edge of the bed, flinging an arm over the mattress, and yanking the drawer open. Another sigh as your fingers reached for the pink satin bag and bottle of lube.

Tossing the covers off your already hot and pulsating body, fingers trembling slightly as you pulled the vibrator out of the satin pink bag you kept it in since you bought it. There had been only a couple of times that you had actually touched the pretty toy with your hands. The toy was pink, the material was soft, thick, and just about enough inches long to satisfy you. Or so you hoped.

Unsure as to how to go about this, you thought of removing just the lower part of your sleeping clothes, including your panties. Breathing hard, and feeling hot in the face and neck, you lied on your pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Your heart was banging fast against your ribcage, as if it wanted to get out. You liked your lips, before grabbing the bottle of lube you had tossed beside you and pumped the cold, thick lube on your fingers, gently applying it between your pussy lips.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth upon the chilly contact against your warmth. But wasted no time, grabbing the pink rabbit dildo from your sheets and holding the button with your thumb.

It came to life with rapid vibrations, the buzzing sound made you jolt in your bed again. But mustering some courage, you brought the tip in, pushing it inside your entrance gently at first. The fast mechanic motions of the vibrator made it hard to concentrate, or to even get pleasure out of it.

Your eyes outlined the edges of the ceiling, anxiously pushing a few more inches inside your needy walls. The thickness of the dildo made your mouth part, releasing a tiny moan of both pain and from feeling your pussy stretching and pulsating around it.

Slowly, you familiarized yourself with the feeling of it, and you grew to like it as the seconds went by and you found a mode that felt good. Your body responded naturally, coming alight with the mechanic patterns of the vibrator massaging your walls. You pushed it all the way inside you, to the part that met your clit.

A strangled moan came out of you, letting your body be submerged in a puddle of pleasure. You sank your head back onto your pillows and spread your legs more so that the dildo reached deeper inside your walls.

It was electrifying. You felt your muscles tighten, your legs burn and begin to tremble, you turned your head to muffle a moan in your pillow and closed your eyes.

Behind your eyelids, you saw him. You saw his tall frame, the beautiful way that he moved. You saw the outline of his lean torso, the t-shirt clinging onto his abdomen. The way he smiled when he noticed your eyes on him, winking at you knowingly.

The way that every nerve in your body sizzled when he laid his hand on your waist. The memory only contributed to the pleasure blooming inside your body, pushing you closer to the edge.

You slowly succumbed to waves of pleasure washing over you, you moaned and thrashed but made no attempt to pull out the vibrator continuing to pleasure you, taking you to the edge. Your orgasm became brutal, fast fiery waves consuming you, tearing through you.

It was hard to ignore the urge to remember his large hand on you, the way he lowered his gaze to meet yours, his seductive smile. You wanted his hands on you, all over you.

A series of airy moans resounded across the walls, you arched your back from the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably, the burning feeling spreading from your throbbing walls to every corner of your aching body.

You held in a breath, putting an end to your implacable moans. The intense feeling coursing through your body making it harder to stop, so when a warm and wet gush came out of you, your thumb pressed the off button, realizing that you had just wet the bed.

Breathless, and shaking, you sat up on the bed, looking at the wet spot in your bed sheets. It was the first time you squirted, the first time you even felt pleasure so abundantly like this. You pondered over how you had to resort to thinking about Mingyu to achieve your climax.

With a sigh, you gathered yourself, cleaning your bed, yourself, and your toys before throwing your ruined bed sheets in the washing machine. You placed new ones and tucked yourself back in and stared at the ceiling.

Though you were completely languid at the time, your vision faded to black, falling into a deep slumber but one thought remained.

I think I’ll accept that coffee.

Easier said than done.

As the following Monday rolled around, you fidgeted with the sleeves of your large hoodie as you approached the door of Casa Pump House. Nerves wrecked up in your system when you pushed the door open using your electronic key.

It had been some days since you saw Mingyu. Some nights since you dared to touch yourself thinking of him. And you were trying your best to keep him out of your mind. Utterly ashamed, you did not even want to think of what you had done.

Because you had enjoyed it.

In the back of your mind, a tiny voice begged for you to visit The Spot again. Whenever you went to the convenience store, a flashing thought warned you that you might run into him there. Or at the gym, even.

“Heyyyy,” Jungkook rasped, elongating the word. “You have been MIA.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “Stomach flu.”

He made a face. “Ew. You’re good now?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t ew me,” you gibed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But Jungkook did not know the stomach flu had a name, and you have been doing everything to not cross paths with him. So why were you at the gym, knowing full well that you could potentially run into him around that time?

“You’re here early,” he pointed, leaning his head to one side.

“It’s noon already!” you quipped.

“That’s early for you,” he remarked. “You always come here when I’m leaving.”

“Well, I missed you so I thought I could come here earlier to see your face,” you returned.

“You know what, I’ll take that. I missed your silly face too,” he said, smirking triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well,” he clasped his hands together, comically drawing in his eyebrows in a deep-set frown. “Let’s get to work, twinkie.”

“What did you just call me?” you demanded at him.

“Twinkie,” he shrugged, motioning a finger at your body. “You look squishy, like a cute twinkie.”

“Hey!” you frowned, pointing a finger at him impishly. “And you look like you were left alone with a sharpie started doodling on your skin.”

His mouth parted in a tiny o. “Touché.”

You giggled. “Okay, let’s get to work,” you rolled your eyes in resignation.

“Let’s start with some warmup,” he nodded to the elliptical machines behind you. “Ten minutes. And then you are going to do RDLs, okay?”

“Okaaaaay,” you mumbled, reluctantly taking your body to the elliptical machine.

You climbed the steps, pressing buttons to see what made the machine start. Once you found the button that made it work, you started moving. You dove into the pocket of your hoodie, looking for your earbuds and your phone to distract yourself from the monotony of the gym.

“Hands out of your pockets!” Jungkook yelped, a second later you saw the man rushing to your side. “You’re gonna get squished, twinkie.”

“Stop calling me that,” you giggled with embarrassment.

“I will when you get a nickname for me that suits me,” he negotiated.

“God, you’re terrible at flirting,” you pointed with a laugh.  

“I’m not flirting,” he chuckled, awkwardly moving away from you.

You let out a puffy breath, drawing out your earbuds out of your pocket.

“Mingyuuuu, it has been ages!” Jungkook chanted, his voice resounding across the lonely gym.

Your stomach twisted, an anxious rush of blood barrelling throughout your body. Your gaze snapped around the place, finding Jungkook pressing his phone to his ear. “This Friday? Uh, yeah, maybe I could. Let me check and I’ll let you know, okay? Okaaay.”

It could be anyone else, you reasoned, placing the earbuds inside your earholes with embarrassment controlling your body. However, it seemed all too likely that it was the same Kim Mingyu on the phone. After all, Jungkook and Mingyu seemed like the kind of goofballs that would get along.

 A probability that you did not want to find out yet.

As you continued your best to follow your routine, something had damaged it. And it was not that you were still ashamed of yourself. Or that you were still flustered about your last encounter with Mingyu.

The realization that you could feel something other than monotony. From the moment you broke things off with your ex, everything felt the same, tasteless, colorless. And you knew that you had put in the work to break out of that dullness in your life, you went out more, you were meeting new people.

But nothing compared to that night. And you found out that you wanted more.

However, it was not easy. You had drowned yourself in work in order to keep avoiding it. So there you were, trapped in your little office you rented for yourself, working yourself to exhaustion so that you could just get back home and sleep immediately.

You turned off the computer after reading the clock that it was three in the morning already. So you grabbed your phone, and your apartment keys and went out of the building.

Damn you, summer rains.

They always came when you least expect it, in the blink of an eye. The air felt so hot as you went out of your office that you could barely walk outside, but then the rain was pouring over you with no notice.

Walking down the sidewalk in working shoes was not the best idea. In fact, you were heavily contemplating removing them and just going back home barefoot.

You came to a reluctant halt in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, as heavy droplets of water fell on your face, on the back of your head as you stared at your shoes, getting wetter and wetter as you pondered over your dilemma.

“Lost something?”

Taking one big gulp of air, you shot a look across the sidewalk, only to find Kim Mingyu standing, wearing his usual attire for work. The features of his face looked relaxed despite the heaviness with which he approached you, carrying his fatigue in his limbs with each step.

His white T-shirt began to accumulate wet spots on his shoulders and chest. His cheeks were wet, as was his long messy hair.

You gaped at him in question. The dilemma occupying your brain dissipated into the void, quickly replaced by the shock of seeing him after days of keeping him at arm’s length without failure.

“Hi there,” he muttered once he stood one step before you.

“Hi,” you smiled, having to tilt your head to find his face.

“You’ve been gone,” he said with some air of urgency, much as if he did not want to lose you at some lazy excuse on your part. “I was starting to wonder that you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”

You hated his straightforwardness sometimes. “Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose in discomfort, receiving more fat droplets of water on your face. “I needed some me time.”

“Then you should’ve just said so, dummy,” he pointed, rolling his eyes at you as if his point were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I struggle to say things sometimes,” you retorted in a whiny tone. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation but we’re literally just soaking in the middle of the street.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, as though he had not noticed the rain pouring down on both of you. “I’ll walk you home,” he motioned in the opposite direction from which he was previously coming.

And with that, he turned around and started to walk down the street.

You fell into step at his side, struggling to keep his steady pace. “Slow down,” you exhaled.

“Right,” he giggled sweetly. “Short legs.”

“Shut up,” you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You just walk really fast.”

“Because I’m taller than you, my legs are longer,” he motioned to his legs, taking one big step that amounted to three of yours.

“Well, then walk slower, please,” you huffed with exhaustion already building up in your feet.

Mingyu noticed, still looking at your face as he walked. “Fine, sorry,” he conceded. “Are you just clocking off work?”

You nodded, noticing your ponytail heavier now that your hair was soaking. “I wanted to finish everything before the weekend.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he gasped in dramatic reprimand.

“Don’t give me that look,” you frowned, pointing a finger at him. “I could say the same to you! You also just clocked off.”

“But that is normal for my job! What you do is not something specifically for night hours,” he argued, matching your tone.

“What do you know about what I do?” you tried to argue but a smile fought to curve your lips. “I could hold office hours specifically from 11 pm to 3 am,” you giggled impishly.

“Ah, really you are…” he rolled his eyes but shook the thought from his head. “Could you finish?”

Droplets of water slid down the bridge of his nose, dropping from the tip and onto his cupid’s bow. You remembered the cute little beauty mark sitting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to kiss it.

It took you one second to understand what he was implying. “Oh, yes, I did,” you stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.

But Mingyu did not notice the meaning behind your gaze. “That’s good,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.

The short spasm returned in your chest, making you tear your eyes from his face and keep walking beside him, staring at the sidewalk.

“How was work tonight?” you returned the question, trying to get as much light conversation as you could without falling into the deep craving tugging in your insides.

“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What would that look like?” you ventured.

“Ah, well, drunk people tend to be funny,” he showed you a toothy grin. “One guy celebrated his birthday at the bar one night, and after a few drinks he lost control, went insane,” he laughed in the memory of it. “He started thinking he was an idol, he requested a song and got on a top of the bar and started dancing.”

His laugh was contagious, you could not help but respond with a giggle of your own. “Oh, no, that sounds embarrassing. What did you do?”

“He lost his balance and fell to the floor,” his smile vanished, shuddering slightly. “He broke his nose, I had to call an ambulance,” he finished the story, scratching his nape absentmindedly.

“That’s not how I thought the story would end. Talk about a night to remember,” you huffed awkwardly.

“Well that is one story of many,” his eyes widened slightly.

“But you like it?” you raised your eyebrows. “D-do you like your job?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed with a nod.

The rain had completely succeeded at soaking your clothes, your button shirt felt cold against your skin, and your jeans were tight and damp, it was starting to get hard to move.

Whereas you felt like a wet ragged doll, Mingyu looked like a supermodel. His long dark hair was dripping wet onto his beautiful face. His white T-shirt was clinging to the muscles of his body, letting you view the well-defined lines of his abdomen.

“Were here already?” Mingyu asked when you came to a halt in front of your building.

“Yeah,” you said distractedly, sending him a look as you opened the door to the inside of the building, welcomed by the smell of humidity and dust. “Don’t just stand there.”

The man followed you inside without much insistence. You started machining in your brain your next movements while climbing the first flight of stairs to the door of your apartment, which you opened with a shaky hand.

You staggered awkwardly against the door frame, trying to keep your chin up to hold his gaze. One hand brushed the worn edges of the frame, resting on it as you caught your breath. Mingyu noticed your eyes this time around. And you almost did not want to realize that his eyes were on your body as well.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked meekly, darting a look at the dark interior of your apartment, aside from the little lamp you always left on when you went out. “I can make something to eat. And lend you a towel, fresh clothes, maybe.”

Much to your fortune, the man nodded with his head. “If you want,” he mumbled, so you slid back inside your apartment for him to follow inside. “Though I’d have to reject the clothes,” reluctantly, he strolled inside your haven, looking at the abandoned big frame and leaning against the hallway wall.

“Why?” you asked, still walking backward as he paced before you.

“Because they might not fit me,” he chuckled, his smile knocking the air out of your lungs.

“What do you know, I could have something that might,” you smirked, getting him a towel you had discarded earlier in the morning.

He gave you a light gesture of gratitude with his head, thanks, he mouthed before pressing the towel to his face.

“Do you…” you hesitated. “Can I offer you something?”

He sneaked a look at you with the towel pressed to the lower half of his face.

“Like water?” you suggested with a sheepish smile. “I have ramen–and rice in the fridge.”

He contemplated you as you swayed your body on the balls of your feet ever so gently. “You don’t need to do that,” he finally replied.

“It’s just food, Mingyu. You walked home with me,” you shrugged, motioning to the kitchen, your fingers grazing the rim of the dining table.

The man took one step towards you, making your step stutter. “I mean that,” he smiled. “You don’t have to repay nothing, shorty. That’s what friends are for.”

You stumbled against the edge of your dining table, a gasp leaving your lips that you quickly tried to replace with a muffled chuckle. “You know, I could say the same thing.” 

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“What?” you breathed, completely perplexed by both the proximity and the question. “Ke-keep what up?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he muttered gruffly, pushing you to lean back against the dining table without laying one finger on you. He was just so close to you that you had no room to breathe.

“Noticed what? Mingyu–,” you giggled in utter shyness when he knowingly smiled at you. The blood rushing to your face made your skin tingle, you bit your lower lip.

“Am I making you nervous?” his voice dropped, his dark eyes reading the features of your face with avid curiosity.

“Yes,” you admitted, leaning back with your hands gripping the wooden rim of the table as he towered over you. “I like you, Kim Mingyu.”

His triumphant smile crushed your heart with its beauty. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.

“I like you too,” he whispered, leaning closer, the smile fading softly as you stopped moving back.

“Mingyu,” you whispered, hating how much you were flustered at his confession, your voice waning.

Mingyu paused, but it was not out of hesitance, his gaze swimming on your features quickly softened once you dared to reach out to him. Using the proximity of your bodies, you found his face with your hands, realizing how warm his skin was.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, nodding slightly with his head. Mingyu wanted this too.

You are not sure what happened, if you moved first or he did. You closed your eyes, breath hitching as his lips touched yours, your skin coming to life with a fiery rush of blood. From pressing his lips against your own, he quickly moved to kiss you deeper, using one hand on your chin to tilt your face to him.

Your heart stammered in your chest, his hand returning to park in your waist. Friends don’t kiss, you wanted to tell him.

Who were you kidding, you had never wanted someone like you wanted Mingyu.

But this is wrong, you thought over and over again.

“Mingyu,” you breathed when his fingers on your chin tilted your head for him to kiss the underside of your jaw, slowly pressing his lips twice.

“Mn?” he hummed really close to your skin, so you felt his short sigh, his breath brushing your skin.

“We should stop,” you brought a hand to the middle of his chest, feeling his hard pecs beneath your palm.

“Why? Am I doing something wrong?” he asked, backing away from you so he could take a look at your face.

“No, not at all,” you said, short of breath, rigid in your muscles in a weak attempt to resist what you wanted to do.

“Okay, if you want to stop, then we stop,” he offered with a kind tone, slowly following your gaze as you palmed his chest over his t-shirt.

“I- I mean if we do this…” you stammered, feeling stupid. “I don’t want us to change.”

A toothy grin spread on his lips. “How would this change us?” he shot a look to your eyes then your lips.

“I don’t want to cross a line we can’t come back from,” you explained, still not letting go of him.

He stilled completely; you saw it in his eyes when he started to craft a plan. “You draw the line.”

“Mingyu…” you whispered, your lips pouting around the last sound of his name.

This was not the same as playing basketball in the middle of the night with him. This could potentially tilt your world upside down. He did not know yet the way he made you feel just by being around you.

“You can draw it here if you want,” he offered, his tone was nothing but kind.

A smile stretched your lips slowly. He made things harder for you like this. Letting you be the one to choose was dangerous, if not stupid. But he did not know.

“I don’t want you to look at me differently,” you quivered. It was still hard to breathe since he was still within arm’s reach. Your hand lingered still right on top of his heart.

“I won’t,” he whispered back, gesturing a no with his head slightly. “I promise.”

Mingyu did not know that you were all too familiar with the pain that he carried. Even if he were not hurting at that moment, you knew what he was going through.

Mingyu looked at you as if he had just dipped into the stream of your thoughts but were left unbeknownst to your actual insecurities. “You’re safe with me,” he mumbled, offering you the ghost of a smile.

You thought of all the nights you wished for something like this to happen. The moments you wished to get a touch, to feel what you felt the first time he placed his hands on you.

Mingyu grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you off your feet and placing you on the small dining table. He did this carefully, but you could sense that he wanted you in a position where he could kiss your face freely. His hands held your face lightly, while he continued pressing kisses on your lips, your cheeks.

This time, as he dives back in your lips, his tongue brushes against yours, lightly at first but enough to elicit a throaty moan from you. The frenzy pulsing in your throat turns into a warmth, blooming from your neck to your face.

He realized you liked that, and tried it one more time, his tongue lingering on the tip of yours before he pulled back. “I should go now,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb caressing your chin gently. “Or I won’t be able to stop.”

You grabbed his wrist. “Wait,” you breathed. “Please don’t. Don’t go. I don’t want you to leave.”

Did you want him? Or did you just not want to spend the night alone, wondering about him?

Mingyu seemed to desist, much as if the rigidness that he used to command himself away from your body had dissolved once he heard your plea. You caught sight of his throat bobbing when he gulped hard, searching your features as if he would find what to say in them.

“Stay the night with me,” you blurted uncontrollably.

“Sure,” he replied, grabbing the edges of the dining table as though he were withholding the urge to touch you again.

“Do you want to, Mingyu?” you asked, reluctant about his general lack of resistance to your offer.

He smiled as he tilted his head to one side. “I would’ve said no if I didn’t want to,” he raised his eyebrows in question. “If I stay, I do want to know one thing. Are you sure about this?”

Before you uttered the same quippy response he gave you, the flashing thought of sabotaging yourself crossed your mind. He knew this. Mingyu knew that you had a tendency to be a people pleaser, of trying to make everyone happy.

“I am,” you reassured, and it was the final blow to what little self-control you had left. “I want you, Mingyu.”

The words caused an impact on him. He breathed in slowly, but his eyes widened ever so slightly, shooting up a glance to your features. His eyes lit up, his beautiful lips curving in a small, but shy smile.

Finally admitting that aloud, and to him also caused something within you. Your pulse quickened, followed by a heat rushing inside you, stretching so far that it reached the tips of your fingers, commanding them to his face.

The pads of your fingers touched the line of his jaw in a gentle caress, urging him back to your lips before you could say something even more damming to your soul. The stammering of your heart was distracting, telling you to let go of this man before he could hurt himself in the tumultuous and dark path that led to your heart.

But you could not. Take the risk, the words echoed in the back of your mind.

“Mingyu,” you blurted, parting from his lips. “Couch, sit.”

You heard an airy chuckle left him as he broke away from the kiss, walking back and blindly falling on the couch, not bothering to look around to make sure where he was heading. You jumped from the dining table, crossing the space to follow him.

His hands pulled you in, his grip on your waist coming back to command you to sit on top of him, which you did willingly, pressing one knee on the couch, then the other, framing Mingyu’s thighs.

Now that you were straddling, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wanted to pull the breaks, but your hands found his face again, your palms caressing his cheeks as you slid your fingers in his long dark hair, brushing it back before sinking your lips in his.

His hands roved your back, starting from your waist up, his fingers getting caught in your hair when he reached your shoulder blades, pressing on your skin over your dress shirt. Your hands went around the back of his head, sliding down to find his thick neck.

Your tongue rolled inside his mouth, swiping a line on his lower lip in the process. Your body came alight with a shudder when a raspy moan coiled around his throat, you felt it beneath your fingertips.

A soft wet sound bubbled between your lips and his when you stopped kissing him, pausing for air. You thought of what to say, resting your forehead on his.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asked.

Every inch of your skin tickled when you heard how gruff his voice had turned. You nodded with your head.

“Yes,” you replied. “You? What do you want, Mingyu?”

The inner corners of his eyebrows twitched ever so slightly, but you noticed it. The question caught him off guard as if that had not been a consideration before. It broke you.

“I don’t want to stop,” he said with a sigh. But realizing that he only half answered your question, he added: “I want you. I’ll go as far as you let me.”

The tiny voice grew more alarmed, but you ignored it besottedly running the pads of your fingers to brush back a rebellious strand of hair back from his face. Mingyu was beautiful, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. But the pull you felt for him went beyond the physical. You needed him.

“Take control, baby,” he whispered.

And you obliged. The strangled sound that bubbled inside you was almost foreign to you. You were on his lips again, kissing him hungrily like you had never kissed someone else before. His hands grabbed your hips, bringing you impossibly closer to his body, pushing your chest flush against his.

You palmed his chest, appreciating the warmth radiating from him with a low hum, which he reciprocated, his hands daring to move farther down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you down on him, pushing your crotch against his.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered in his mouth. You grounded your hips on him, replicating the motion by swaying your hips back and forth on him once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he blurted, then shut his eyes tightly. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, continuing to ground your hips on him, rubbing yourself on the hard bulge beneath his blue jeans. “Do you like this?”

“Yeah, yes, baby,” he rasped. “But I want you to feel good, shorty. C-can I move you to the bed?” he shuddered.

You stopped grinding on him. “Sure-,” you gasped. Before you could finish your sentence, Mingyu was rising to his feet, scooping you up with him.

He giggled softly when you squealed in surprise. “I got you,” he wrapped your body effortlessly, his arms carrying you safely.

Your arms went around his neck by instinct, but he crossed your tiny studio apartment faster than your brain could even process. As he laid you on the mattress, you noticed that he had made sure that only your legs were hanging on the edge of the bed.

Mingyu placed a hand on the mattress, right next to your shoulder, then the other. “Stop me if you don’t like anything at all,” he muttered, climbing on top of you, and lowering his hips to meet yours.

He was heavy—heavier than you had expected or imagined in your most delusional nights. And he was not even lowering his full weight on you.

You swallowed thickly. But recovered when your hands found the hem of his t-shirt. “I want to see you without this,” you toyed with the damp cotton fabric, sending him a look.

Mingyu smiled and pulled back on the mattress, standing on his knees before you. He crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up his torso, and off his head, showing his skin unabashedly.

A shudder flashed down your spine. You wondered before what was beneath that t-shirt, but what little you dared to imagine did not compare to the actual beauty he was. Before you could even take the image before you, Mingyu was already leaning over your body, propping a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Fair is fair?” he asked meekly, a thumb brushing over one button of your dress shirt.

“Yeah,” you showed him a smile, realizing you were jittery.

You watched his hand trail down as he undid each button, your shirt parting and slowly revealing the white bra you wore. It was nothing too daring, but it fit you well, accentuating your breasts nicely.

You darted a look at his face. Mingyu finished undoing the buttons of your shirt, his gaze lost in you as he palmed your tummy with a gentle caress to uncover more of your skin to him.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he gasped, leaning to press a hard kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your cheek.

Too astounded to even bring yourself to reply, you whimpered into the kiss, his tongue outlining your lower lip, his hand on your waist inched to your chest, setting your skin on fire. He cupped one of your breasts, groaning in desperation before hiking up the cup of your bra, to touch you freely.

Your hands flew to undo his belt, hastily undoing the button and zipper of his jeans too. “Get up,” you gasped, his thumb swirling your nipple, getting it to pebble, a tingle spreading on your skin beneath his touch.

Mingyu obliged, knowing where you were going before you even made a move. His gaze followed you as you pushed his jeans down, getting rid of them. In two full motions, your dress shirt was discarded on the floor along with your bra before you returned your back to the mattress.

He looked at you like no one else had before. There you were, splayed on your bed beneath him, and he was just taking you in with his gaze, making your heart flutter wildly.

His fingers grazed the skin of your thigh, inching closer to the band of your panties. You trapped his index and middle finger in your hand, his gaze snapping to yours.

“Fair is fair,” you reminded him with a grin.

He stood before your bed wearing a pair of grey boxers only. Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, he sighed shortly. “You played dirty,” he pointed, but he removed his hand from your grasp.

You sat up, stopping him when you shot him a look, wordlessly telling him you wanted to finish undressing him yourself. You enjoyed the look on his face, his features going soft when you ran a finger from his belly button to the band of his boxers.

You palmed the outline of his cock, darting a quick look at his face when you felt the wet patch of precum on the last piece of clothing he wore. When your fingers finally curled around the waistband of his boxers, you could not help but conceal your smile by biting your lower lip.

Mingyu was fully hard, and he was big. A shudder tore through you. He stepped out of his boxers, looking at the bewildered expression on your face as he stood wholly naked, and proudly so.

Before you could even utter a word, he motioned you to lie back once more. You smiled, helping him get rid of your wet and ruined panties, which he yanked down your legs, tossing them to the floor, littered with your and his clothes.

“Gyu,” you whimpered, his lips pressing a sweet kiss on your lower, moving to capture it in a deeper kiss.

“Need you,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and quivering slightly as his hands palmed your breasts, his thumbs brushing your perked nipples. “I need you, baby.”

Your hands roamed on his back, feeling the outlines of his hard muscles. “Take me,” you blurted. “I’m right here.”

He placed a kiss on the underside of your jaw, and you tilted your head back for him to kiss your throat. “I want to eat you out,” he husked against the plain of your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts, taking his time with each as you raked your fingers on his scalp. “Can I?”

“God, yes, Mingyu, please,” you gasped, his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, making you stir your back on your mattress.

Mingyu hummed as he licked your tits, his tongue swirling around your areolas, kissing your nipples and suckling at them. His hands caressed the inner side of your thighs, spreading them open as his mouth trailed down your tummy, kissing your skin, making it prickle.

A moan coiled in your throat. You needed him now. “Hurry,” you blurted with a whine.

Mingyu obeyed wordlessly, getting down on his knees. Kissing your mound, his hands cupping your inner thighs focusing solely on your pussy before diving in, his tongue swiping a broad stroke on your pussy lips, licking you fully. The feeling overwhelmed you at once, and you knew you would not last long.

“God,” you gasped, as he licked your folds sending you a look from between your thighs. The view was so lewd, beating any experience you had ever had in the past in a matter of seconds.

Silence flooded the room, aside from the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy, licking your folds, and your increased breathing. Your mouth had fallen open, and you forgot to breathe.

His hair tickled your skin, his warm hands holding you down as he licked, suckled, and nipped at your pussy, as though he were getting familiar with it, as though he just wanted to taste if first before moving his tongue to your clit.

And when he did, you knew there was no going back.

A breathy moan escaped, and you drew in a breath again. “Mingyu…” you called after his tongue swirled around your swollen clit. “Do that again,” you asked, your tone whiny and pathetic.

He did not skip a second before doing a figure-eight motion with the tip of his tongue, and again. And again. You wondered if you would come before he grew tired, but then you realized that he was not stopping, nor faltering.

You propped half of your body on the mattress, letting your eyelids fall shut for a brief moment, focusing on his tongue teasing your clit relentlessly. You caressed his long dark hair, drawing his puppy eyes to yours. “I’m almost there,” you choked out, your limbs tensing in response.

“God, Gyu,” you tilted your head back, a tiny giggle escaping you. “You’re so good at this,” you whispered aloofly.

Your fingers curled in his hair, feeling like you were falling, sinking into a puddle of pleasure. Arousal and drool dripped on the covers of the bed as the tension in your body brimmed you to the point you were shaking.

“Min-mingyu,” you choked out, so close to the edge you could barely hold out. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m co-,” your orgasm rippled through you, body going limp with sweet pleasure, shaking, and whimpering pathetically.

He placed one final open kiss on your clit before rising from the floor, a satisfied look on his face. “Shorty?” he mumbled.

“I’m good,” you gasped dazedly.

“Want more?” he asked, climbing back on top of you.

“I need you,” you cupped his neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss. You tasted yourself in his mouth, his chin wet with your arousal, making your walls throb around nothing. “I need you now.”

That brought a wolfish grin from him. “How do you want me, baby?”

“Lie down,” you breathed, finding his hard chest with your hands.

You knew it was incredibly hard to push his body, but somehow you did. Pushing his broad shoulders as you managed to get on top of him again, but this time, as you were both utterly naked in your bed, it felt completely different.

“Oh god,” he blurted, his hands gripping your hips instantly as you lowered your ass to sit on him.

“You were amazing,” you husked, placing a chaste kiss on his lips that resounded with a lewd smacking noise.

His fingers dug into the skin of your hips in reaction to your praise, groaning as he captured your lips with his own again.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, your tone weakened by the pleasure and the urge of feeling him.

He blinked for one long second. “No,” he rasped. “Do you?”

You shook your head. “I could suck you off,” you mumbled meekly, your gaze shifting between his eyes and lips. “But I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean,” he mumbled. Your heart deflated just a little.

“I want you, Min,” you whispered, brushing his lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

A silent groan escaped him. “Please,” he replied in kind. “I want to feel you, baby. Now.”

The sound of his words emboldened you. You sat back on his thick thighs, once you straddled him you realized how big Kim Mingyu actually was. You raked the skin of his torso with the tips of your fingers, making him suck in a breath and shut his eyes close.

“Don’t tease me, please,” he choked out, kneading the flesh of your thighs. “Play later, baby.”

The whiny tone of his plea did not go unnoticed by you, but you kept caressing his skin, exploring it under the pads of your fingers until you reached his pelvis. Mingyu was well groomed, you found out when you grazed the short hairs with your index finger.

“Please,” he breathed, a hand shooting to circle your ankle.

“Alright,” you giggled.

You grabbed his hard cock with one hand, swallowing hard when you felt his soft skin, the thin vein trailing on the underside of his thick shaft. It was heavy and warm as you pumped him, spreading the precum leaking from its reddened tip.

Lifting your hips, your gaze locked on his, he trapped his lower lip behind his teeth, you guided his cockhead to your folds, a moan bubbling in your chest when his hands gripped you tighter. Mingyu sucked in a breath, swallowing a deep moan as you sank down on him.

“God,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes at the euphoric sensation of his cock stretching your walls deliciously.

But none of you broke eye contact, much as if neither wanted to miss the reactions you got from feeling each other.

“Fuck,” he whined once you bottomed out on him with a moan from your part. He closed his eyes, shuddering hard underneath you, his hands lingered on your hips, kneading your thighs as if that helped him cling to sanity.

“Okay?” you whispered.

“God, you…” he sighed, licking his lips. “You feel like heaven, baby.”

You smiled at him. “How long have you gone without getting fucked?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself.

“A while,” he admitted with a raspy tone.

You gave him a smile, before you anchored your hands on his chest, pulling your hips up, and then pressed them back onto his, feeling every naked inch of him. Your mouth fell open. “You’re so big,” you gasped.  

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered.

You shook your head, though the stretch had stopped hurting, you were enjoying it. You tucked your feet beneath you, propping them on his thighs to help yourself angle your hips on top of him. “Okay?” you asked again, riding him slowly.

“Perfect,” he replied, lifting his hands to cup your tits while his eyes explored every curve of your body.

You moaned, his fingers toyed with your pebbled nipples, making your hips buckle. “God, Mingyu…” you sighed, picking up the pace on top of him, enjoying the glazed look on his face.

“Fuck,” he gritted, pushing his head back on your fluffy pillows. “I’m gonna come. Baby, I’m g-gonna come.”

By pure instinct, you lifted your hips from his completely, making him sigh heavily but did not complain. You laughed impishly at the frown setting on his face.

“Please! Please, don’t stop, baby,” he whined, his hands clutching your waist. “I can keep going… just let me come, please. I need it.”

Oh, you could become addicted to this. You quickly realized.

You conceded without more begging from his part, sinking down on his cock again. Mingyu let out a long, whiny moan, shuddering when you started bouncing on him again. You leaned forward, managing to trap his lips with your own in a heated kiss. He hummed in your mouth, his hands roaming on your back. 

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped. “I swear, you feel like nothing else baby.”

You moaned, feeling your eyebrows pinch involuntarily. “You’re close, Min?” you asked, your tone going sweet and velvety for some reason.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Don’t edge me again, please.”

“Okay,” you giggled. “Wanna come inside me, Min?” you brushed his long dark hair back.

You caught sight of awe shooting on the features of his face. “Ye-yeah,” he breathed. “Please, please I’m so close, baby…”

You left a small peck on his lower lip, bouncing on him gently. “Come inside me, Mingyu,” you whispered.

“Oh god,” he gasped, grabbing your hips, helping you ground on him at the speed he needed to find his release, which came quickly, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a second before finding your eyes. “Baby, I’m coming, fuck, fuuuuuck…”

His mouth parted, a sharp intake of breath resounding across the walls right before a raspy moan came out of his pretty lips. The sight was so alluring that you feared the image would never leave your mind, you knew it would haunt you every night.

His grip became limp, and you stopped swaying your hips on him, kissing his lips as he came down from his high.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, finding your thigh with one hand, then the other, caressing your ass before he motioned you to continue moving on him.

“Mingyu-,”

“I told you, shorty,” he said, showing you a lazy grin. “I can keep going.”

An ecstatic feeling rushed through you.

“It’s okay, Mingyu,” you said. “I’m good.”

“I want you to come,” he muttered, his voice thickened and gruff by arousal. “Do you want me to help you come, baby?”

“I- yes,” you sighed. “God, yes, Mingyu.”

Mingyu nodded, grabbing your hips as he shifted on the bed, planting the soles of his feet on the mattress to lift his hips, fucking into you, his cock reached deeper inside your walls, and deeper. A whiny cry escaped your mouth, your hands flying to grab onto his shoulders.

“Mingyu!”

Then he started plowing into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder, impossible for the whole neighborhood to ignore. The headboard banged against the wall, mattress creaking with each of Mingyu’s hard thrusts.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes lost on the features of your face as you wailed, and cried out on top of him, nearing your sweet release.

“Fuck, fuck, Mingyu, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cried out, a low whiny moan escaping you as you reached your second orgasm. This one was fiery, consuming you fast and mercilessly. Mingyu grunted, and you knew just by the fucked out look on his face that he was coming with you but kept fucking into you through your high, dumping his second load inside you.

You were panting, shaking, languid with pleasure as he lowered his hips back on your bed again, reaching out for you by putting a hand on the back of your head, prompting you to lie on his chest.

“You’re okay?” he asked with a sigh.

“Yeah, yes,” you breathed raggedly. “Perfect. You?”

Mingyu chuckled, wrapping his heavy arms around you in a warm embrace. “Perfect.”

You closed your eyes, ignoring the alarming voices in your head.

There was a thing you were certain of: you were playing with fire. But you wanted him, even if that also meant that you wanted to make him forget his broken heart. You wanted to ease his pain.

“We need to clean up,” you said, lifting your head from his chest.

Mingyu smiled, brushing your hair, tucking it behind your ear with his fingers. “Can’t we stay like this for a minute?” he said with a lazy drawl.

“Okay,” you whispered, leaning down on his chest again.

You listened to his heartbeat, caressing his chest with one hand. You smiled.

“What?” he asked, hearing your tiny giggle.

“Will you accept that ramen now?” you asked.

Mingyu chuckled, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I think I will.”

The following Sunday rolled around and you did not go to the bar this time, feeling like it was a little too soon to see Mingyu again after the night he spent at your place. And thankfully, you did not feel hollow for once, even as you sat quietly in your apartment.

That was until the loud buzzing of your phone broke the perpetual stillness of the living room.

[8:40 PM] min: Are you free tomorrow? [8:40 PM] min: Can I come over to yours? [8:40 PM] min: I can't stop thinking about you.

That drew a big smile out of you. You replied in an instant, letting him know that he could come to yours, sealing the deal with Mingyu, whom you never thought would make you feel something real again.

☆ author's note: hi there! (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡

don't hate shorty for her actions, she had to take risks lol. she is a hot ass mess but give my girl a chance, she'll get better (✿◠‿◠) this fic is lowkey inspired by the song two weeks by fka twigs and my personal life experience

the journey of this fic is. . . kind of long. i started drafting this fic back in december 2023. i originally intended it to be a one shot, only focusing on the rebound aspect. but for some reason i couldn't get myself to write it and then. . . my ex partner and i broke up after years of being together. i kind of understood why i couldn't write this fic. and so here it is.

not me oversharing on tumblrdotcom oh well you could practically see into my soul in all my fics, c'est la vie haha

also my general taglist is a mess so,

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED FOR THIS SERIES, PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS CHAPTER, PUT IT ON YOUR REBLOG TAGS OR SEND ME AN ASK PLEEEEASE PRETTY PLS OR, JOIN MY TAGLIST

anyways,

toodles

☆ READ PART II! ☆ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic. 

With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.

You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.

So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.

With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and... 

You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.

You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.

"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.

"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.

"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?

With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.

"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.

"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"

You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"

She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"

Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?

You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.

"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"

The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.

As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.

"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.

With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.

And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.

The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.

After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.

As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.

And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.

You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.

With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.

The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.

Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.

Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.

"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.

"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.

The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.

You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.

But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.

Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."

But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.

You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down. 

You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.

But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.

The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."

Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?

With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.

You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."

Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."

You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.

You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.

The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."

You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.

The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."

"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.

He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant. 

You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.

"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.

He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.

You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.

You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.

You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?

But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."

Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.

"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.

The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.

As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"

He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.

"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"

The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.

Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.

You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.

[...]

As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.

You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.

But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.

Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.

But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.

As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.

You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.

"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"

Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.

"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"

Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.

Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.

As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.

As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.

You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.

You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.

With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.

You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.

"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.

You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."

As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.

Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.

Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.

As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.

With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.

s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.

With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go," 

Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."

You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."

"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.

It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?

You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes. 

Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.

A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.

You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.

Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.

Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.

As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.

You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.

"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"

"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.

After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.

You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.

He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.

"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."

Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"

You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.

"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."

Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."

And in minutes, everything happened. 

You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.

As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.

"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!" 

With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.

Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.

You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.

As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.

"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.

"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.

As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling pathetically.

"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.

Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"

You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."

And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.

As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing.

And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.

You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze. "I can do whatever you want," he replied.

As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. It was something you had written in your wishbook — a cock that fulfills you — but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.

His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched.

"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.

Mingyu chuckled softly, "Don't worry," he reassured you. "I'll make it fit."

As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter.

You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.

"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you.

You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum. 

As Mingyu continued to tease you, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."

His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally.

You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.

As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction making you roll your eyes, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.

As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly.

"I'm still," he murmured between moans "You're almost cumming."

Your pussy clenched around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.

He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back as you tremble.

No mercy, just like you wanted.

Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.

"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, hm?"

You nodded eagerly, unable to form words.

As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.

You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.

And then it hit you, you came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.

You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.

As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.

But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."

You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."

But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, and you moan satisfied that he didn't stopped.

"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You're almost there, baby. Just hold on..."

As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.

As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance.

"I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.

But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure blinded all of your senses.

You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him.

As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied.

Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.