#wen junhui

“It’s a blood smear. We’re supposed to do this in pairs. And you’re my pair, by the way,” you deadpanned, grabbing your friend’s arm as he whined when you pricked his finger for some blood. You carefully placed the small drop of Joshua’s blood into the glass slide, grabbed the second slide and placed it at a 45-degree angle before your phone buzzed again, causing you to lose your focus and fail to do your task once more.

Taking a deep breath, you tried not to crash out and scream as you grabbed your phone, unlocked it, and checked your messages from the unknown number.

???: Cheol.

???: Cheol, check this out.

???: [sent 1 attachment]

???: I got sushi from that one place just outside campus. I was thinking we could go.

???: Cheooooooooooooooool

???: dude, stop ignoring me 😐

You: I’m not Cheol, and you have the wrong number.

???: There’s no way you’re not Cheol. This is literally the number he gave me.

You: You must’ve saved the wrong number then. Please stop texting me.

???: Why?

You: Uhhh, because I’m not your friend?

???: I mean, we could be :)) 

You snorted at the logic the stranger you were texting was showing. Glancing around, you continued to text the unknown number while your PI was busy with other undergrads.

You: How?

You: For all you know, I could be a 64-year-old creep.

???: You see, you wouldn’t be saying that if you were actually that old.

???: Plus, no old man would be able to text as quickly as you do.

You: Fair enough.

You: Still, you don’t know me, and you shouldn’t really be spamming a random person’s number.

???: I thought you were my friend, so 🤷

???: Anyway, new friend!

???: What are you up to?

You: I’m in a lab right now, actually.

???: As in you’re a scientist?

You: Undergrad in the Biology department.

You: How about you?

???: Now, now… It won’t be fun if I reveal everything about myself now, will it?

You: You’re so strange.

You: I’m gonna block you now. Nice meeting you, stranger.

???: WAIT WAIT

???: I’m a journalism major. I’m assuming we’re from the same uni?

You: Why would you assume that?

???: Idk, hunch.

You: Okay… I need to go. I don’t want to get in trouble with my PI.

???: Does that mean you won’t block me?

You: I’ll think about it.

You turned off your phone, shaking your head as you grabbed Joshua’s arm again. “One more time.”

“You pricked my finger in the same spot like four times! How consistent can you be?!” Joshua complained as he held his “tortured” finger, as he called it, after you had pricked him four more times during lab. The two of you were walking from the lab towards the exit of the Biology department building to grab lunch at your usual hangout spot, which was the campus cafeteria.

As you shrugged, you shook your head at your best friend and his antics. Your thoughts were too preoccupied with the stranger whom you had texted earlier, wondering what they were up to at the current moment. Deciding to pull out your phone, you checked if they had texted you, but there was nothing.

“Waiting for prince charming to message you?” Joshua peered over your shoulder, which he immediately regretted when you elbowed him.

“I don’t even know if he’s a guy or not.” You rolled your eyes as you pocketed your phone, walking ahead as your friend followed. 

Joshua grabbed your phone from your pocket with ease, unlocked it, and checked your messages. “Totally a guy. No girl would message like this.”

“How do you know?” You muttered as you snatched your phone back from your best friend, smacking him gently as you looked through the messages again. He was right. A girl would typically not text like this, and it was just pretty obvious that a guy was texting you, but you didn’t want to assume.

The two of you continued to banter until you got to the cafeteria to meet up with Wonwoo, who had to leave earlier because of a student council meeting. Once all of you had your food, you sat down by the windows and placed your trays on the table. That’s when your phone buzzed, prompting you to check, only to get disappointed when it was an email from your professor about your data analysis report for Statistics.

Wonwoo raised his eyebrow at Joshua, who just shrugged with a fond smile before digging into his food. You noticed the glance your four-eyed friend was giving you and gave up on staying quiet.

“A random number kept texting me these past three days,” you grumbled, taking a bite out of your food. Chewing and swallowing, you continued, “And I just replied to them today during lab.”

Wonwoo raised his brows, intrigued by your situation before speaking. “So… You just ignored them for three days straight?”

“...yes?” You sounded uncertain as Wonwoo hummed, thinking before shaking his head. “What? You thought of something, tell me!”

“No, nothing. I just thought it was strange that you’d ignore them rather than just block them.” He shrugged, and you blinked at his words, realising what he meant.

Right. You usually did block random numbers, but that was when they called! And this guy did not call, so you didn’t feel obligated to block him. Plus, you were pretty curious about the mysterious texter who wanted to “befriend” you.

“Do we know any journalism majors?” You suddenly blurted out, causing Joshua to look at you with a cocked eyebrow.

“Uh, Seungcheol is a journalism major with his friend—what was his name…” he muttered, trying to recall the name of Seungcheol’s friend. “I don’t remember his name, but why?”

You shook your head, trying to dismiss Joshua’s growing suspicions. “Nothing, nothing… It’s just that he said we might be from the same uni.”

Joshua groaned at that, and you knew what that sound meant. You chuckled awkwardly, knowing it was probably a bad idea to meet up with this person without getting to know them first, but hey, at least you were trying to socialise, right?

“You are not going to meet him! What if he’s some serial killer?” You rolled your eyes at your friend’s tendency to exaggerate everything, but Wonwoo seemed to agree with him. A sigh left your lips before raising your hands, as if to say you were forfeiting the idea. For now.

“You should get to know this guy first before meeting him. Stranger danger and all,” Wonwoo murmured while cutting his pork katsu into bite-sized pieces. “We don’t want you to get into unnecessary danger.”

Your eyes softened at your friend, understanding that they were only looking out for you. Taking another bite of your food, your phone buzzed once more. Expecting another email, you unlocked your phone only to see that the unknown number sent you a picture.

???: [sent 1 attachment]

???: Lunch 😋

You: Huh.

???: What?

You: We are from the same uni, after all.

???: So, my hunch proves to be correct!

???: What are you up to?

You: I'm also in the campus cafeteria, with some friends.

???: OoOoh

You: ??

???: Nothing, nothing.

???: I'd say let's meet, but that's a little too early for that 😉

You: My friends and I were actually just talking about that.

You: Stranger danger, so… what's your name?

???: Wouldn't you like to know? What's yours?

You bit your lower lip as you looked up from your phone to check any students in the surrounding vicinity who were on their phones—almost everyone. A sigh left your lips before you typed out your name and hit send.

???: Cute name

???: I'm Jeonghan. At your humble service.

You: Jeonghan, huh? You know I could just search you up in the student files on the uni website, right?

Jeonghan: But what would be the fun in that, sweets?

You: ‘sweets’?

Jeonghan: You sound sweet, so sweets 🤷🏻

Jeonghan: Anyway, let's set up some rules!

You: For what???

Jeonghan: Since we're from the same uni and all, we're bound to bump into each other.

You: The journalism department and biology department are on opposite ends of campus.

Jeonghan: We could share classes, you never know, sweets.

Jeonghan: Anyways, rules! One, you're forbidden from searching me up on the school website and vice versa. It's more fun if we don't know what we look like for now.

Jeonghan: Two, no asking around people on campus if they know who we are. That'd be cheating. 

Jeonghan: Three, we update each other on our day-to-day to get to know each other better until we're ready to meet. And wanting to meet needs to be mutual, so if one doesn't want to, we can't meet.

You: So, you want this to be like a game?

Jeonghan: Kind of? It'll be fun :)

Jeonghan: So, what do you say, sweets?

You: What if I say no?

Jeonghan: Then I will never text you again, and we will go on with our lives as strangers.

Jeonghan: But I know you're interested, so please say yes.

You: Whatever, sure.

Jeonghan: Perfect. I knew I could count on you 😗

You: Don't ever send that emoji again, or I'm blocking you.

Jeonghan: Got it 🫡

“Having fun texting the stranger?” You almost jumped out of your seat when Joshua spoke up, prompting you to smack him.

“His name’s Jeonghan.” You glanced back at your screen to check if he had sent anything else, but there was just a gif with confetti. A soft snort left your mouth at that before you shook your head. “He's strange, but I'm only a human, and humans get curious.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, finishing his lunch as he stole a fry from your tray. “Just eat your food, you've been texting the guy for the past ten minutes. We have Statistics after this.”

A groan left your lips at that, disliking Statistics out of all of your lectures for the day. You'd rather have lab all day with your strict PI rather than Statistics with your notoriously annoying professor. You finished your lunch quickly and said goodbye to Wonwoo, who had a different lecture from you and Joshua.

“Who's got you smiling like that, dude?” Seungcheol sat across from Jeonghan as the latter cleared his throat before pocketing his phone.

“No one, what are you talking about?” Jeonghan shoved a couple of fries into his mouth, pretending like he wasn't just giggling to himself like some moron after texting you. His best friend raised his eyebrows, unimpressed as he sighed.

“You were texting her, weren't you?” Seungcheol noted the way Jeonghan glanced away, neck and ears burning as he sighed. “Dude, I gave you her number so you could introduce yourself! Not that you could convince her you had the wrong number.”

“I did introduce myself, kind of…” Jeonghan muttered, looking back at Seungcheol with a pleading glance. “I made this whole thing—I'll get to know her through texting, and we'll meet each other once we're ready—”

“Or you could just stop complicating this for yourself and introduce yourself to her like a normal human being?” Seungcheol deadpanned, crossing his arms as Jeonghan groaned. Only if it were that simple.

Jeonghan didn't have the guts to approach you and talk to you as he usually would with other people. He wasn't sure why, but something was stopping him from acting like himself—maybe it was because he didn't want to give you the wrong first impression? He couldn't figure it out, but what he did want was to get to know you better, and this was one way to do it.

He was so surprised when Seungcheol mentioned that he knew you, having taken some classes together during freshman year. He was even more surprised when Seungcheol told him he had your number. That's what got him into the situation he was in—texting you without you knowing that he was just one person away.

“Seriously, Hannie… She'll like you. You're funny, and she's a simple soul, she's practical, and if you play your cards right, she might agree on a date.” Seungcheol looked at his best friend with a sympathetic smile, but Jeonghan was convinced his way was better.

And he'd go through with this plan until he was ready to actually reveal himself.

Statistics was as boring as ever, but you promised yourself you'd actually focus this semester. While writing down your notes in your notebook, you couldn't help but feel someone's gaze on you. You turned your head in the direction you could feel the gaze from, and met someone’s eyes before they hurriedly looked away. Strange.

That’s when you noticed the person he was sitting next to. Seungcheol.

You turned back to your notes, curious about the guy sitting next to the friend you had made during freshman year. They were both probably journalism majors, so maybe they knew Jeonghan. Not like you could ask—it was a part of the rules of the game your next textmate decided to make up.

When the lecture ended, you decided to walk up to Seungcheol and his friend, telling Joshua to go ahead, and that you’d catch up with him later. 

“Hey, Seungcheol…” You greeted awkwardly, not having seen him in quite some time due to your busy schedule. 

The man in front of you immediately perked up when you came up to him, greeting you back with a hug. “Hey, it’s been a while! This is my friend Jeonghan—augh…”

“He meant Jung Han. My name’s Han. Hi,” Jeonghan murmured after elbowing his friend in the rib before shaking your hand with a smile. You gave him a small one back, letting go of his hand after a beat.

“Nice to meet you, Han. I guess, uhm… I’ll see you guys around? I still have to head to the lab to check on my samples—”

“Hannie can walk you there! He has, uh, he has a class not too far from there, yeah.” Seungcheol nudged Jeonghan forward, making you blink at both of them. You weren’t really against the idea, and Jeonghan was quite the looker.

You decided and hummed, nodding. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

The two of them looked at each other, as if they were communicating with each other telepathically, before Jeonghan smiled at you and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

The bold action caused you to snort and take his arm, telling yourself that you could get out of your comfort zone just this once.

“So, Han,” you started, and he hummed, looking down at you as the two of you walked arms linked with each other. “How’d you and Seungcheol meet each other?”

“Hmm, I think it was kindergarten. Why?” He asked back, and you just shrugged, seeming to be curious about the guy you were currently walking with. Jeonghan had this charm to him that you couldn’t place, but he seemed to be a little awkward, even when he was just walking with you.

You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to ask questions you normally wouldn’t have. Jeonghan was just that type of guy you’d want to actually get to know for some reason. Usually, you wouldn’t even be this touchy with a person you just met, putting them at arm’s length, but he just made it a bit easier to open up to. 

So, you talked. Asked questions about him like the curious researcher you were, noting everything down mentally as you listened.

When you got in front of the Biology department building, you unlinked your arm from his before smiling. “This is me… Thanks for walking me here. You really didn’t have to.”

“Nah, it was my pleasure. It was fun talking to you, swee—I mean, uhh… yeah, fun talking to you.” He scratched the back of his ear, giving you an awkward chuckle. “See you around!” 

Jeonghan gave you a salute before he turned and hurriedly walked away. You faltered, wanting to call out for him to ask for his number, but he was already out of earshot. A soft sigh left your lips before you decided to head into the building to check on your precious samples in the lab with a giggle.

“Stop fucking giggling like an evil scientist,” Joshua muttered from behind you as he smacked you with his clipboard. You frowned, rubbing the back of your head as you glared at your best friend. “So, who was the guy you had your arms linked with~?” 

You rolled your eyes, knowing Joshua would want to know about what he saw. “Nothing, Seungcheol offered him to walk me, and I agreed.”

“Just like that? You? Agree for some guy to walk you all across campus?” He raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. “What’s the guy’s name?”

“Jung Han,” you murmured, and Joshua’s eyes widened.

“Jeonghan? Like the guy you’re texting?”

“No, no—Jung Han. Two separate people. His name’s Han.” You explained, and your best friend made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth before furrowing his brows and grumbling to himself. “What?”

“I was sure Seungcheol’s friend’s name was Jeonghan, though, but eh, I must’ve misheard.” Joshua tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue softly before dragging you into the lab room, where a few people were already conducting their research in their own workbenches. You didn’t linger on your friend’s words, focusing on the bacterial samples you had in the small lab refrigerator instead.

Twenty minutes into conducting research and writing your thesis, your phone buzzed, distracting you from your task as you glanced at the device before looking back at your laptop. You contemplated whether it was worth getting distracted, glancing around as Joshua seemed to be preoccupied with sending you random memes on Instagram. So, you decided to abandon writing your thesis to check whatever Joshua might’ve sent you before seeing a message from Jeonghan.

Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]

Jeonghan: The sunset’s pretty.

Jeonghan: Like you probably.

You: Are you flirting with me?

Jeonghan: uhhhhhhhhh

Jeonghan: If I am, would you let me?

You: I don’t know.

Jeonghan: wdym you don’t know? :( 

You: If you send me one more sunset pic, I’ll consider saying yes.

Jeonghan: [sent 7 attachments]

Jeonghan: Are these enough?

You stifled a giggle, covering your mouth before replying to his message. You found Jeonghan entertaining, so you indulged in whatever he was trying to do.

You: You’re weird, you know that?

Jeonghan: Yes, you’ve called me strange before, I know

You: [sent 1 attachment]

You: I’m in the lab conducting research right now.

You: Lowkey bored :// My best friend keeps sending me reels instead of helping me.

Jeonghan: That’s cute

Jeonghan: The Sanrio sticker on your laptop, I mean

Jeonghan: Who’s your fav character?

You: Cinnamoroll.

Jeonghan: Noted 😉

You: For what?

Jeonghan: That’s a surprise for the future, sweets.

You: What if I don’t like surprises? What then?

Jeonghan: Ehhh, I think that you do like surprises, you’re just trying to throw me off my game

Jeonghan: But that won’t work! Because I can foresee the future.

You: And that future is?

Jeonghan: You and me on a date :)

You: Right. I’m blocking you.

Jeonghan: NO— WAIT PLEASE

Jeonghan: I was too forward. I apologise.

Jeonghan: One more chance, I beg of you, sweets.

Jeonghan: No date. Unless you change your mind.

Jeonghan: Sweets?

You decided to leave him on read with that, wanting to cackle to yourself. Instead, you settled with a slightly off-putting giggle, prompting the people around you to send you side glances, which also happened to be your best friend. Joshua threw a pipette at you, hitting you square in the forehead, pulling you out of your weird state.

“Stop giggling to yourself like that, weirdo. You’re creeping me out.”

You flipped him off, grumbling to yourself as you dove back into your research with a soft smile on your lips when you glanced at the Cinnamoroll sticker on your laptop.

It was late when you got back home to your apartment, tiptoeing inside so as not to wake your roommate—Minghao—up. It had been a long day, and you were exhausted, so instead of scurrying to your bedroom, you crashed on the leather couch you and Hao had bought last year, deciding to invest in a good couch instead of keeping the old, ratty one that was provided by your landlord.

Your phone buzzed, surprising you. It was 1:04 AM. Why was he still up? You unlocked your device and pressed the notification.

Jeonghan: u still up?

You: Why are you up?

Jeonghan: Couldn't sleep 🤷🏻

Jeonghan: You?

You: Just got back from the lab.

You: I worked on my thesis and didn't realise it was late.

Jeonghan: Ahhhh, I see..

Jeonghan: Do you wanna play 20 questions?

You raised your eyebrow at that, sitting up and leaning against the backrest as you thought about it. Jeonghan was a complete stranger to you—but you just continued indulging him because he was interesting. You thought about the other Jeonghan—or Jung Han, as he insisted, but you couldn't really take it seriously. Probably coincidental that they had the same name.

You: What the hell, why not?

You: Who starts?

Jeonghan: You can :)

You: Were you serious about that date?

Jeonghan: Oho, straight to the hard questions, huh? I can't say I don't like it.

Jeonghan: Maybe… Why?

Jeonghan: U interested? 😉

You: Those two count as two separate questions, so I'll answer them and get two questions myself.

You: Nothing in particular, I was just wondering if you were serious or not, and no, I'm not interested. Not yet anyway.

You: What’s your favourite colour?

Jeonghan: 👀

Jeonghan: Woah, woah— backtrack, little lady

Jeonghan: wdym “not yet”??

You: I don't know you, so.

Jeonghan: Fair enough..

Jeonghan: Oh, and my favourite colour is black.

You: Hm.. why would you want to go out with me? You don't even know what I look like.

Jeonghan: Does it matter if I do?

Jeonghan: Don't count that as an actual question; it was rhetorical

Jeonghan: And to answer your question—why not? You're interesting, and I find texting you quite fun, even when you threaten to block me or text like a robot sometimes.

You: I do not text like a robot! 😡

Jeonghan: Sorry to break it to you, sweets, but you do, painfully so. But it's part of the charm that tugs me towards you 😉

You: Your turn.

Jeonghan: Right. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Jeonghan: Oh! What's your favourite movie?

You: I, uh… 27 dresses. And How to Lose a Man in 10 days. Both romcoms, yes.

Jeonghan: That's cute

Jeonghan: Will be sure to watch them and tell u what I think about them

You: What are your hobbies?

Jeonghan: Hmmm.. That’s a difficult question. But I like playing football (not the American one, I'm a little too unqualified for that), sleeping and taking care of my pet rock ^^

You: You have a pet rock?

Jeonghan: That's two questions, sweetheart, but yeah, I do.

Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]

Jeonghan: Its name is Doljjong :)

You: That's…

You: That’s cute.

Jeonghan: Thanks

Jeonghan: How about you? What are your hobbies?

You bit your lower lip at that, contemplating whether or not to share something so close to your heart with a stranger. Deciding not to linger on it, you typed out your answer.

You: I like to read.

Jeonghan: Just that?

You: And, uh, I guess I like to draw sometimes.

Jeonghan: Okay, okay, cool

Jeonghan: Can I ask a more personal question?

You: Uh, sure.

Jeonghan: Do you have a boyfriend?

You: No.

Jeonghan: Why not?

You: Too busy.

Jeonghan: Would you like to have one then?

You: Good night, Jeonghan.

Jeonghan: Worth a shot

Jeonghan: Night, sweets.

You sighed, chickening out before the questions got too intense, not wanting to reveal too much, too soon. Your cheeks couldn't help but warm at the incessant flirting from Jeonghan, unsure why he was so interested in your love life when he barely knew you.

“He's so weird…” You muttered to yourself as you lay back down on the couch.

“Who’s weird?” You shot back up when you heard Minghao’s voice, seeing him getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

You shook your head, dismissing his question with a wave of your hand. “Nothing, just muttering to myself.” 

That seemed to satisfy Minghao's fleeting curiosity as he padded back to his room, leaving you alone once more, your head hitting one of the throw pillows while you thought about your new contact and Jung Han.

“Seriously, you’ve been texting the guy for five days now, and you're thinking about meeting him already?”

Joshua shook his head, still disapproving of the idea of you meeting your phone pen pal. You had been texting Jeonghan for almost a week, and you enjoyed talking to him more often than you didn't. You found yourself liking his free personality, the way he seemed to just be himself through the phone, open with you as he shared little moments of his life without revealing too much. And you did the same; you gave him a piece of your peaceful life, sharing small stories about your experiences at the lab or just talking about your day-to-day, just like you agreed upon.

You found yourself truly befriending the guy who accidentally texted your number.

A groan left Joshua’s lips as he sighed. “Give it more time, get to know him better before you actually agree to something serious. I don't want you coming home crashing out because he wasn't the guy you expected him to be.” 

“What guy?” You suddenly hear a voice behind you, turning to see none other than Jeonghan Han. Your expression seemed to change when you saw him, your face a little brighter as he sat down beside you.

“Oh, uh, nothing. Just the guy I’ve been texting.” You shrugged as he rested his arm around the backrest of your chair before stealing a fry from your tray. 

You and Jeonghan had also been spending some time with each other, getting to know each other as you talked through Instagram DMs. He sent you funny memes and made sure to remind you to drink water. He was friendly and charming, but not in the same way as the Jeonghan you’ve been texting over the phone.

Jeonghan felt bad for lying to you like this, wanting to come clean, but he was in way too deep within his two personas he was showing—the strange charmer over the phone, aka the real him, and whatever this ‘Jung Han’ persona was. It was baffling how you couldn’t connect the dots. He shook it off as he glanced at you with the usual look he always sent your way—yearning and admiring. Even Joshua could notice it, your best friend clearing his throat and coughing.

“I’ll leave you two alone. I don’t feel like third-wheeling. See you during lab.” Joshua got up from his seat, giving the two of you a wave before leaving with his tray. Jeonghan chuckled awkwardly at that, while you just hummed and continued eating your food in soft silence.

“Tell me about that guy you’re texting.” Jeonghan suddenly blurted out, prompting you to pause and look at him. He seemed curious, his eyes darting around before looking back at you. 

“I… I mean, he’s nice. I like talking to him. He’s a little strange, but I guess that’s the part of his charm,” you murmured, smiling as you took a bite of your food, chewing and swallowing before continuing, “He’s asked me out about three times, but I turned him down since it’s only been five days. But we do have a few things in common.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan’s heart seemed to clench at how enthusiastically you talked about him to him, feeling jealous of his own self for knowing more about you and not being able to voice it out. It was ridiculous.

“I know I shouldn’t want to meet up with him, but I really want to. I want to see him and talk with him about all the things I talked about. Do you… Do you get what I mean?” You fidgeted with the napkin on your tray, glancing at Jeonghan as he nodded. You didn’t seem to notice how he tensed up, his jaw clenching before he relaxed.

Jeonghan then decided to tuck a few strands of hair away from your face, making you blink and flush when he leaned in. “You like him that much?” He sounded a bit hurt, eyes softening as he continued, “What about me?”

“Wh–what about you?” You mustered out, not moving away as his fingers found your shoulder, gently touching.

“Nothing, nevermind…” He chuckled, but it sounded strained as he moved back, ruffling your hair. “I have a lecture soon, pretty, I’ll see you later, okay?”

You faltered, confused as he got up and grabbed his bag, leaving you all alone at your table, your thoughts filled with nothing but his words. What about me?

Jeonghan wanted to scream into his pillow—well, Seungcheol’s pillow. He was currently in his best friend’s dorm at Beta Sigma Tau’s fraternity house. They were supposed to be writing an article about some topic Jeonghan had already forgotten, focused on his phone instead.

“You should just tell her, man. Stop being a wimp.” His best friend turned to Jeonghan as he sighed at his whining.

“I tried, Cheol… But something in me just flaked out, and I couldn’t bring myself to break it to her. What if she hates me for it?” He sat up, hugging the pillow as he checked your messages—both on Instagram and on his number. Nothing. He wondered if you had figured it out and decided to actually block him—

Ding!

Jeonghan immediately unlocked his phone to see that you had sent him a picture.

He almost fainted on the spot.

It was you in a pretty, baby blue sundress that ended at your mid-thigh, the sleeves puffy, making you look like a modern-day princess. Your face was covered by your phone, obviously not wanting to reveal it yet, even if he knew what you looked like, but this was the first time you’d sent anything remotely involving your looks.

You: Does this dress look okay?

Jeonghan: Yes.

You: Woah, that’s a serious response.

Jeonghan: Sorry, I was just so uh

Jeonghan: Surprised, ig?

Jeonghan: But you look very pretty, sweets

Jeonghan: Are... are you going on a date, mayhaps?

You: Maybe.

You: Jk, I’m not, I just wanted to know what you thought of the dress.

Jeonghan’s heart almost dropped when he saw that first message, before you followed it up with the second one. He didn’t realise he was holding in his breath as he let it out, making Seungcheol side-eye him, but he was too focused on texting you.

Jeonghan: I think the dress is lovely

Jeonghan: Will you wear it on our first date?

You: Maybe.

Jeonghan: You and your ‘maybe’s, just say yes or no, baby

You: Pffft

You: Ask me out again.

Jeonghan: Are you fr right now?

You: If you don’t do it in the next 10 seconds

Jeonghan: Sweets, sweetheart, will you go out on a date with me?

You: Yes.

Jeonghan got up from Seungcheol’s bed, startling his best friend as he re-read your answer before screaming, “SHE SAID YES—”

“What?” Seungcheol grimaced when Jeonghan’s voice cracked as the latter started jumping around like some madman.

“She said yes, dude, I’m going out on a date with her—fuck.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, already thinking of the plethora of things he wanted to do before coming up with a whole idea of where to bring you and whatnot.

This was going to be the perfect date.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You said yes. You said yes. To a date with Jeonghan, a stranger you just met five days ago. Usually, your instincts told you to run in the opposite direction, but this time, it was telling you not to run away. Like this was meant to happen.

The two of you had agreed that you’d see each other on Saturday, which was four days away, giving the two of you some time to prepare. Prepare for what exactly? You weren’t sure, but you definitely needed the time.

You were currently on your way home, listening to music as you managed to bump into Jeonghan. He seemed as surprised as you were; his face was slightly flushed as if he was in a rush. He murmured your name as you took your headset off.

“Hey—”

“Hi—”

The two of you said in unison as you paused and smiled with a soft giggle. Jeonghan scratched the back of his ear—something he did when he was nervous, as you noted a couple of days prior. 

You spoke up first, your expression full of wonder. “Where were you headed from?”

“Oh–uh, from Cheol’s place. We were supposed to do this one article, but I forgot the topic.” He chuckled, standing there as he put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I’m guessing you were going home from the lab?”

“Bingo.” You did finger guns, also pocketing your hands into your jacket. Your thoughts lingered on that moment you had in the cafeteria earlier that day, but you didn’t bother mentioning it.

Jeonghan seemed to hesitate, but spoke up after a beat, “Do you want to come over to my place?”

He blurted out, prompting you to pause. You checked your watch before looking at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I’m running late. My roommate wants me to eat dinner with him and his friends. We’re having Chinese. Maybe next time, though?”

“Oh—uh, yeah, sure…” Jeonghan smiled, hiding his disappointment and understanding that you had prior plans. That’s when he remembered about the party that was going to be hosted at Seungcheol’s fraternity.

“Hey, wait,” he managed to grab your wrist before you could leave. “There’s a party at Cheol—I mean Seungcheol’s fraternity this Friday.”

You blinked at him, pursing your lips slightly before cracking a soft smile. “I’m not really the partying type, Han.”

“I–I know! But we don’t have to stay downstairs. I’m sure Seungcheol won’t mind if we stay in his room. We could play Uno, or something.” He rubbed his neck, looking at you hopefully. 

You thought about it for a second before sighing softly and nodding, “Yeah, I’ll go. Just don’t leave me alone there, alright? I’m sacrificing my precious Friday lab plans for this.” You joked as Jeonghan let go of your wrist, letting you leave as he found himself groaning when you were out of earshot.

You, on the other hand, were groaning for another reason. Not only were you sacrificing your precious time at the lab, but you were also juggling between two guys at this point! You felt guilty, but at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to go, right? You were going there as his friend.

Shaking your head, you decided to stop thinking about it as you headed back to your apartment so you could eat with Minghao, Jun, and Soonyoung.

“I’m home!” You shouted from the front door as you slipped your shoes off, padding over to the kitchen to see Minghao cooking, while Jun and Soonyoung were trying to beat your record in Mario Kart in the living room. You could smell the aroma of the food Hao was cooking, going over to the stove before grabbing a spoon from one of the drawers and trying the soup. 

Your roommate smacked your hand before you could grab another bite of the meat. “It’s not done yet, you impatient—”

Soonyoung, who called your name from the couch, cut Minghao off from cursing you out, and you smiled innocently at him before heading over to where your roommate’s friend was. “I beat your record! Give me the crown!”

“Oh yeah? Watch me beat your record—” You were about to grab the console from him when your phone buzzed. It was Jeonghan. An involuntary smile formed on your lips as you sat down on the armchair, not too far from the couch, before unlocking your phone. Soonyoung looked at Minghao, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]

Jeonghan: I miss you, sweets

You: Are you in the bath, Jeonghan?

Jeonghan: Uhhhhhh

Jeonghan: Yes?

You: I—Okay…

You: Also, you can’t miss me.

Jeonghan: Why not?

You: We haven’t met yet?

Jeonghan: I can miss my future girl, yk

You: Bold of you to assume I’ll be your future girl.

Jeonghan: You already agreed to go out with me.

Jeonghan: No take-backsies

You: Yeah, yeah. I know.

You: Have you planned out the date or…?

Jeonghan: Ofc I have, sweetheart

Jeonghan: Don’t worry your pretty little head abt it

You: If you say so.

You: I trust you.

You then contemplated whether or not to tell him about the party he Han invited you to. Shrugging, you decided to tell him, not thinking much of it. 

You: Also… There’s this party I’m going to.

Jeonghan: Oh?

Jeonghan: My sweet geek is going to a party?

You: I am, yes. Surprising.

You: A friend invited me, so.

You: Would you like to come?

Three dots appeared and disappeared as Jeonghan typed, making you feel anxious. Was it a good idea to invite him when you were supposed to hang out with the person who invited you? You shook your head, focusing when Jeonghan finally replied to your message.

Jeonghan: Sorry, sweets, but I’ll be busy this Friday ://

Jeonghan: As much as I wanna meet you faster, I’d rather see you during our date, having fun instead of getting wasted

You: Valid point.

Jeonghan: I do hope you have fun with your friend though :))

You: I mean… we’re probably going to his friend’s room and play Uno or something since I’m not a party person.

Jeonghan: So your friend is a him. 

Jeonghan: Cool.

You: Jeonghan, it’s not like that.

Jeonghan: 🙁

You: Jeonghan, you can’t be serious.

Jeonghan: MY FUTURE GIRL IS ALREADY CHEATING ON ME 🙁

You: I AM NOT.

Jeonghan: Gotcha

Jeonghan: You agreed that you’re my future girl 😍

You: I’m literally gonna block you.

Jeonghan: No you won’t <3

You sighed and shook your head, unable to stop yourself from smiling as Soonyoung gently nudged you with his foot. “Yah, why are you smiling like that? It’s creeping me out—Hao, why is she smiling like that?”

“She’s got a boyfriend.” Minghao rolled his eyes as you glared at your roommate. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

“He's not my boyfriend!” You argued, huffing softly as your roommate scoffed out a laugh.

“Right, and you don’t text him almost every day when you have free time.” He deadpanned, causing you to groan and threaten to throw a pillow at him before he sent you a glare back. “Plus, you bought that new dress when we went out, which means that you’re probably going to meet him soon—I’m presuming Saturday?”

“I—” You sputtered before clenching your jaw, kind of expecting this from Minghao. He just knew things, forces of the universe or whatever. Before you could even linger on the fact that he knew about your date, Soonyoung and Jun were tackling each other over the last pocky stick.

When dinner was ready and served on the table, the four of you dug in, but not before you took a picture of it and sent it to Jeonghan Han’s DMs.

You: [yourusername sent a photo]

You: Dinner with the goofs :)) 

Hannie 🩷: Have a good dinner, pretty :) 

You: thank you, Hannie :3

You: Have you had dinner yet?

Hannie 🩷: Yeah, I just got out of the shower and made some ramyeon

You: I’d say you should have more than just convenience store ramyeon, but we are broke college students.

Hannie 🩷: Exactly, pretty

You: What time should I come to the frat house?

Hannie 🩷: Oh! I’ll just pick you up from your place, if that’s okay with u

You: Yeah, I don’t mind :)) 

Hannie 🩷: Perfect :)) I’ll pick you up at 8, since the party starts at 9

You: Alright, I've got to go, my roommate is glaring at me.

You turned off your phone before you could see Jeonghan’s reply, and avoided eye contact with Minghao before he spoke up again. “Who did you send the picture to?”

“Han from Journalism…” You grumbled, and your roommate’s eyebrow cocked in confusion.

“You mean Yoon Jeonghan?” He asked, and you shot him a puzzled look. “That’s the only Han I know from Journalism. You know, Seungcheol’s friend?”

That made you pause. Jeonghan. Han. Seungcheol. Cheol. Cogs turned in your brain until everything clicked. Han was Jeonghan. You agreed to go on a date with the same person who asked you if you wanted to go to a party with him. That’s why he declined your invitation.

You groaned at not being able to realise it sooner, but you didn’t want to do anything about it for now. Jeonghan must’ve had his reasons to keep this from you, so you let it be for the time being. 

You got up from your seat, Jun perking up and furrowing his brows slightly. “Did Hao say something wrong?”

“Oh—no, I just figured something out,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly as you muttered to yourself. Before Soonyoung could add anything, your roommate shushed him.

“Leave her be, she probably figured something out about Jeonghan.”

You decided to call Joshua about this about three hours later. It was late—11:09 pm—and you couldn’t sleep. You were wearing a face mask, typing along on your laptop, when your best friend answered your call, also in the middle of his skin care routine.

“Jesus Christ, I thought you were a ghost,” he muttered, and you rolled your eyes at his eccentric comparison. “What is this about? You said it was important, but you just seemed bothered by something.”

“Jeonghan is Han,” you mumbled, and your best friend made a face, not being able to understand you.

“What? Can you repeat that? You literally mumbled it, and I’m not Superman, by the way.” He sassed, putting on his moisturiser. “Jeonghan is who?”

“He’s Han! Like—Like Han, Seungcheol’s friend!” 

You explained everything to Joshua, filling him in on everything, and by the time you were done with your rambling, your best friend was done with his skincare routine, and you were removing your sheet mask.

“That’s a lot to unpack, pipsqueak.” He sighed, shaking his head as he sat down on his office chair, propping his phone up against something while probably opening his laptop to write his thesis, just like you. “What do you wanna do about it?”

“I don’t know! I mean, I like him, but which one is the real him, you know?” You groaned softly as you buried your face into your hands without realising what you had just said.

“Wait, go back. What did you say?”

“Which one’s the real him–?” You looked at your phone screen, confused.

“No, dumbass, the other thing.”

“That I liked—oh. Oh.” You finally got what he meant, realising that you liked Jeonghan. 

You weren’t sure which version of him you liked more, but you liked him all the same. It made you realise that in the past few days, you’ve known Jeonghan as Seungcheol’s friend and as your phone pen pal, you’ve liked talking to both versions of him. The awkward dork side and the more flirty side of him.

“So, what are you gonna do about it?” Joshua repeated himself, looking at you with a knowing smile.

“I’m gonna go to that party and tell him how I feel?” You sounded unsure, feeling your insecurities grow. Jeonghan knew what you looked like all this time, but you still felt like you weren’t going to be enough for him. You also felt a bit betrayed at the fact that he knew who you were, but you didn’t know who he was—not fully anyway. But that didn’t really matter right now, your priorities set on the fact that you’d confront him during your date and not during the party, not wanting to ruin your chances with Jeonghan by cornering him.

Joshua noticed your conflicted expression and sighed. “You’re going to spiral if you overthink this, pips. And damn right you’re gonna tell him how you feel. If you get cold feet, you have to buy me those Prada sunglasses I told you about for my birthday.”

“Dude, your birthday just happened!” You whined, knowing there was no getting out of this. Not unless you wanted a dent in your bank account anyway.

Sometimes you felt like you called the wrong person when asking for advice, but Joshua was always real with you, and so was Wonwoo. But you didn’t want to impede the latter with your love life problems when all he did was game when he had the time with his busy schedule as both a biology and engineering major. It was surprising that he had time to get lunch with you and Joshua every time.

You continued to talk to Joshua until you finally decided to head to bed, bidding your best friend goodnight and ending the call. A soft sigh left your lips as you took a quick picture of your desk and sent it to Jeonghan’s phone number.

You: [sent 2 attachments]

You: Shit.

You: That second picture wasn’t supposed to get sent.

Jeonghan: Fuck, sweets

You: DON’T LOOK AT IT??

Jeonghan: YOU LITERALLY SENT IT??

Jeonghan: You look hot, though

You: I—thank you.

Jeonghan: Is it weird to admit that I got hard?

You didn’t reply to that, as you wanted to scream your lungs out into your pillow, but it was late, and Minghao would smother you with said pillow if you didn’t shut up. You were experimenting—it was supposed to be something you kept in your gallery and then deleted when you looked too hard at it. 

It was you, after your shower, posing a little too riskily for the camera, on your knees in front of your full-length mirror, wearing nothing but a tank top with thin straps, and shorts that were a little too short for your liking. Your face was covered by your phone, but it was obvious that it was meant to be for Jeonghan. You were just too much of a wuss to send it to him now that you knew who he was.

You looked back at your messages, groaning at the fact that you couldn’t turn back time and be more careful with sending pictures from your gallery.

You: That’s rather a bold statement.

Jeonghan: Okay, good you’re back

Jeonghan: Thought you died from embarrassment

Jeonghan: Though there’s really no point in being embarrassed, pretty girl

Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]

Oh, fuck. It was a picture of Jeonghan—wearing his sweats and a loose t-shirt that rode up from the position he was lying in. Bulge prominent in his pants.

You: Is that a current pic?

Jeonghan: Yeah

Jeonghan: I don’t send shit like this to anyone else, pretty

You: Do you really think I’m that hot…?

Jeonghan: Don’t do that

You: Do what?

Jeonghan: Belittle yourself. You’re pretty, hot and everything I could ever want, sweetheart.

You: Stop—

Jeonghan: You got me hard for fucks sake

Jeonghan: Do you want me to send myself jerking off just to prove it to you?

You: …

Jeonghan: Too far?

You: Send it.

Jeonghan’s breath hitched when he saw the message. Send it. Fuck. Were you really serious? He bit his lower lip as he palmed himself while looking at the picture you had sent, feeling like some creep for planning to jerk off to such a pretty photo of you. But he’d rather be sure as he typed on his phone with one hand.

Jeonghan: U srs?

You: Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?

Jeonghan: Idk, ppl usually don’t ask for dick pics, let alone someone jerking off…

You: You offered, I accepted it. Now send it, coward.

Jeonghan: You’re so mean to your boyfriend 🙁

You: Future boyfriend***

Jeonghan: I’ll take it

Jeonghan: Brb

Jeonghan shimmied his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock as he hissed softly at the cold air hitting his sensitive tip. He bit his lower lip as he opened the camera app, his cheeks flushed behind it as he hit record. 

He touched his cock, stroking it gently as he rubbed the leaking precum all over his thick girth, grunting and whining softly as he imagined it was you and your pretty mouth sucking him off. Jeonghan groaned out your name as he closed his eyes before they fluttered open once more, so he could focus on recording himself fucking his fist, imagining your breasts that almost spilt out of your tank top and the short shorts that probably barely covered your ass.

“Fuck—” He grunted, feeling himself get closer as he teased his tip, but ended the recording before he could cum, just so he could edge himself. He quickly wiped his hand with a tissue from his nightstand before nervously sending the video to you.

Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]

Jeonghan: There—

You: Holy fuck.

Jeonghan: ?

You: Nothing…

Jeonghan: Sweets, I just sent myself jerking off to you, speak up

You: It's embarrassing!

Jeonghan: More than me sending a video of myself?

You: …

You: I'm soaked

You: Like, I didn't know I could secrete so much slick

Jeonghan: Abandoning the punctuation marks, that's a sign

You: Aren't you gonna ask me for anything?

Jeonghan: Not unless you're comfortable with it, sweets

You: [sent 1 attachment]

Jeonghan physically groaned, seeing the picture that you'd sent—bent over, your ass facing the mirror as you took the picture from your bed. He could see the cute posters and knick-knacks you had in your room, but he was zeroed in on your panty-covered mound, slick coating your inner thighs and your panties were soaked.

Jeonghan could feel his cock twitching, and more precum leaked out of his tip. A strangled grunt left his lips as he went back to stroking himself, and making sure he reached his release with the sight of you.

Jeonghan: so fucking pretyy 

Jeonghan: gnna bust a nut

You: Jeonghan, I wish you were here…

That was what unravelled him, a choked-out moan leaving his lips as spurts of hot cum shot out of his shaft, coating his lower abdomen and his hands. He embarrassingly snapped a quick photo of it before sending it to you in a post-nut haze.

Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]

You: Is that because of me?

Jeonghan: yws

You: ??

Jeonghan: Sorry, yes, I was typing with one hand

Jeonghan: Did you really mean it?

You: Yeah… I'm soaking wet, and I don't know what to do.

Jeonghan: fuck.

Jeonghan: Call me.

You bit your lower lip as you read his message over and over. Call him. Your stomach fluttered at hearing his voice through the phone, even if you knew what he sounded like, but this would confirm everything.

You hastily slipped off your panties, getting comfortable in your bed as you dialled Jeonghan’s phone number. He answered almost immediately, sounding strained and breathless.

“H–hello…?” You murmured, your phone pinched between your cheek and shoulder as you worked on teasing yourself, rubbing your inner thighs with one hand and tweaking your nipples with your other.

“Fuck… you sound so pretty.” Jeonghan's voice sent a jolt to your clit. It was him. Your theories were confirmed, but all you could do was whimper softly when you brushed your fingers against your slippery clit.

“Jeonghan—” You mewled, earning a soft groan from him as you teased yourself. “Need help…”

“I know, baby, I know… What are you doing?” He rasped out, hearing him shift on his bed. 

“Teasing myself,” you mumbled, and Jeonghan hummed, listening along with your soft gasps when you rubbed your clit. “Rubbing my clit—”

Another soft grunt left Jeonghan’s lips as you started hearing soft fap fap sounds coming from the other side of the call. “Okay, baby, keep teasing your cute little clit, spread your slick…” 

“Okay—hngh…” You mewled, eyes rolling back as you teased and rubbed yourself, your hole fluttering around nothing. “ I feel so empty, Jeonghan—”

“Fuck—put… put your fingers in, fuck yourself with two, scissor yourself, baby. Imagine they're my fingers trying to stretch you out for my cock.”

You whimpered at the command, doing as he said as you inserted two fingers into your sopping cunt, your toes curling as you started pumping your digits in and out and scissoring yourself as he told you to. You imagined him being in your room, talking you through it like he was now, touching you and whispering into your ear. 

“Curl your fingers up for me, sweetheart. Come on, it’ll feel good, I promise,” he cooed, and you listened, curling your fingers up to that spongy spot inside you. Your legs trembled, and you gasped, wanting to squeeze your thighs together as you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers. The heel of your palm grazed against your clit, making you whine as you felt the knot in your lower belly forming.

“I'm close, Jeonghannie—” You whimpered out, while Jeonghan grunted over the other side of the line, the slick sounds of him stroking his cock getting faster and a bit louder. It made you imagine the video he had sent—how big and pretty his dick looked, how he moaned out your name. It was dizzying.

“Keep doing what you're doing, baby, you're doing so well for me,” he murmured, praising you as you got closer to your orgasm. “This really wasn't the way I was expecting us to do this, but fuck, this is hot. You're hot.”

You flushed, mewling his name once more before the band in your stomach snapped, and you let out a whiny moan as your walls convulsed around your fingers, coating them with your release. Your legs trembled as you panted, your vision blurry.

“Baby, you still there?” Jeonghan crooned, and you let out a soft “uh-huh”, still recovering from the intense release you had just gone through.

“I… holy shit—” you gasped as you pulled your fingers out of your slick hole, feeling how soaked you were everywhere; you probably ruined your sheets from coming so hard just now. “I—I think I soaked through my sheets.”

“Fuck, don't say that when I'm not there—” Jeonghan sounded whiny, hearing his pout through the phone as you giggled tiredly.

“It's… It's nice to finally hear your voice,” you murmured, your eyes softening as you closed your trembling legs. Jeonghan hummed, shifting in his bed as he put his sweats back on. You moved to the less ruined side of your bed before grabbing some clean panties from your wardrobe and putting them on.

Feeling slightly awkward, you were unsure of what to say to him now that you were done getting off. “Uhm…”

“Sweetheart, you sound tense. Is it awkward to put a voice to the text message?” Jeonghan chuckled, and you let out a soft huff in reply. “As I said earlier, I… I didn't expect to do it like this.”

“Do what?”

“Have phone sex? I'm more of a hands-on person.” He admitted blatantly, causing you to inhale sharply as you imagined Jeonghan’s hands all over you. He caught on to the silence on your end, a soft chuckle leaving him as you trembled at the sound.

“Now, now… Pump your brakes, little lady. We'll get to that point. Let me buy you dinner first.” He teased, and you whined, rolling your eyes but smiling either way. 

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, listening to his soft breathing before speaking up, “I'll see you Saturday?”

“Yeah, pretty. I'll pick you up, hm?”

“Mhm… goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“Goodnight, sweets.”

After that, you hung up, still trembling, but not because of your orgasm, but because of the excitement of seeing Jeonghan on Saturday and the dread of seeing him on Friday, pretending that you hadn't had phone sex with him. You groaned, the post-orgasm haze wearing off as your logical thinking came back. 

Friday came faster than you’d expected. You were pacing around your living room like a worrywart while Minghao and Joshua played old maid. You were wearing a baby blue blouse and a white denim mini skirt with white sneakers, wanting to somehow look pretty to the party you were going to without overdressing or looking like a hooker.

Joshua groaned when you kept walking back and forth, having had enough of your worrying. “Dude, stop worrying. You'll confront him about it when you're ready.”

“What if he figures out I know?! What if I blurt it out or something—”

“You're worrying about the stupidest of things, you know that?” Minghao deadpanned, drawing a card from Joshua as the latter groaned when he lost. “The two of you are fucking idiots.”

“Hey—” you were about to argue, but the doorbell rang, prompting you to pad over to the front door and check the peephole to see Jeonghan. Unlocking and opening the door, you greeted him with a smile and a quick hug.

“Hi,” you squeaked, earning a raised eyebrow from him as you grabbed your purse and keys. “I'm leaving!” 

You called out to your friends, and they bid you goodbye. “Don't get her near alcohol, she's a lightweight!”

Joshua warned Jeonghan, and you groaned, flipping your best friend off as you closed the door and started walking. Jeonghan offered his arm, and you gladly took it with a soft laugh.

“You look pretty,” Jeonghan murmured, his eyes softening as you flushed under his gaze. Was he always this handsome up close? Your heart couldn't help but flutter, and your body heated up a bit. 

You could handle this. Maybe.

The two of you got to the frat house about fifteen minutes later, entering the loud establishment—music boomed from the speakers, and the place was packed with drunk college students, dancing and shouting at each other to hear what the other was saying. Jeonghan led you up the stairs, opening the door to what seemed like Seungcheol’s room.

“He lives in the dorm by himself?” You looked around, surprised to see only one bed, the rest of the vast space filled with a beanbag and a small couch, along with a desk in the corner by the windows.

“I mean, we used to live together before I decided to move out. And since he's the chapter president, he gets to have a dorm to himself.” 

Jeonghan shrugged, humming uncommittally as he sat down on the bed, patting the free space beside him, causing you to gulp. Act natural. 

You sat down beside him, pretending like the brush of his knee against yours didn't just ignite your skin on fire. He was acting fine, so you should too, right? You technically didn't know Jeonghan was Jeonghan, after all. Your hands were on your lap, and you sat there as Jeonghan looked around the room to see what the two of you could do while the party got crazier downstairs, the music getting louder, and students got rowdier.

“Do you have anything we can do—”

“We can play Uno if you want—”

The two of you said in unison, looking at each other before bursting into soft laughter, and that seemed to break the ice almost immediately. You nodded at the idea of a game of Uno.

“What does the winner get?” You asked, and Jeonghan looked up as if he thought hard about it.

“Hmm, how about a kiss on the cheek?” He offered, and you squinted your eyes at him playfully before he added, “And snacks.”

“You drive a good bargain, Han…” You murmured, touching your chin as you thought about it, humming and making a face that made him laugh.

“I'll take it. The winner gets a kiss on the cheek and snacks!”

At the start of the game, you seemed to have been taking the lead, managing to get to one card first before Jeonghan just smirked and shook his head.

“You underestimate my skills, sweetheart,” he cooed, the nickname sending a jolt down your spine as the memories of last night came flooding back before it got cut short when Jeonghan placed a wild draw four card on the deck. 

You groaned, pouting slightly as you picked four cards from the deck, not having any colour Jeonghan had announced as he placed a blue eight. You picked another card, managing to place a red eight as he clicked his tongue. Your body froze when he shook his head again, placing a red skip card before a red draw two card, which caused you to retaliate with a yellow draw two card, and he clicked his tongue again.

“You sure you wanna play this game, pretty girl?” He tutted, and you looked at him with growing dread as he placed a blue draw two card, forcing you to pick up six cards, leaving him with five cards and you with ten.

Both of you went back and forth until you managed to get three cards left while Jeonghan had two. You bit your lower lip as you looked at your cards—a blue four and a red draw two card. The deck currently had a red eight card, and you were thinking whether or not to place the draw two card or to just pick another card from the deck.

Deciding to take a risk, you place the draw two card, glancing at his reaction. He kept a straight face before sighing. “Sometimes, I wonder if the forces are working against me.”

“Uno, Jeonghan. Your move.”

He picked out the first card from the deck before pausing and glancing at you. You held your breath as he picked out the two cards, having nothing to place in retaliation. He had five cards while you had one. Not like you could place the one you had, so you had to pick another card. A yellow stop card. You wanted to groan, but kept it in as you watched Jeonghan’s moves.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He looked at you with a pensive expression before he apologised, making you look at him confusedly.

“Huh–?” That’s when he placed two wild draw four cards, two wild cards and a blue reverse card, ending the game with your loss.

You just lost.

You lost Uno—the only card game you were probably good at—to Jeonghan.

“A kiss on the cheek is owed to me, my lady,” he teased, grinning as you groaned, rolling your eyes before leaning in and kissing his cheek. Jeonghan hummed at the action, and you couldn’t help but linger in his vicinity as you looked at him up close.

Jeonghan seemed to notice how you were looking at him, and his grin softened to a soft smile. “Careful, sweetheart, I might think you have a thing for me.”

That made you reel back with a flush to your cheeks, hitting his shoulder as he snorted out a laugh. That’s when he stood up, confusing you before he motioned towards one of Seungcheol’s drawers.

“He keeps his snacks here. We can eat them since he’s probably just hoarding them for when he feels like it.” He took out a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You grabbed the pocky and opened it, while Jeonghan continued to snoop in Seungcheol’s drawer before whistling lowly.

You looked at him with a quizzical brow, and he took out what looked like a blunt of weed. “Is that—”

“Sure looks like it…” Jeonghan murmured, glancing around the room before finding a lighter. “Wanna smoke it with me?”

The question hung in the air as you looked at Jeonghan. He seemed chill about the whole thing, probably had smoked weed before, but you never tried to in your four years of uni. He sat back down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, tilting his head to the side before offering you the blunt.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t smoked weed before.” 

“I haven’t.” You admitted, and Jeonghan’s eyes softened. “But I’d like to try.”

Jeonghan lit the blunt soon after your approval, taking a drag out of it and handing it to you to try. You awkwardly held the blunt between your fingers, taking a drag before you started to cough, handing the weed back to him as he patted your back while you tried to recover from the burn down your throat. 

“I—fuck, I underestimated the strength of it. Sorry,” Jeonghan apologised softly, still rubbing your back. “How about I shotgun you? It’ll be easier on you, but the effect will be weaker, so…”

“Y-yeah, I think that’ll be better.” You nodded, looking at him with teary eyes after practically coughing your lungs out. “How do we do it?” 

You asked, and he glanced away awkwardly before patting his lap. “You’ll have to get close, sweetheart. I will be exhaling smoke into your mouth after all.”

Ah. That made sense. Something in your stomach flipped as you looked at his lap before back at his face, and you made your way to straddle him, slightly hovering. 

“Inhale when I exhale into your mouth.” Jeonghan took another puff out of the blunt, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, prying your mouth agape before blowing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he said and inhaled, taking in the smoke as you felt the weed affecting you already due to its potency.

With a couple of more exchanges, and you could feel yourself getting high, sitting snugly on Jeonghan’s lap while he talked about something random from his childhood, while you fed him pocky. The two of you had probably gone through half of the blunt before Jeonghan decided to place it down on the ashtray he had found earlier. His hands found your hips, and you didn’t mind the touch one bit as you fed him another pocky stick.

“Play the pocky game with me,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded as you hummed and agreed without a second thought. You placed one end of the long pocky stick between his teeth while you started biting the other end, getting closer and closer to his lips. 

When your noses bumped against each other, and you were about to take the last bite, Jeonghan took the rest of the pocky stick into his mouth before stealing a kiss from you, prompting you to gasp. He didn’t seem to be sorry as he bumped his nose against yours.

“Was that okay?” Jeonghan whispered, and you nodded gently, already leaning in for more as his grip on your hips tightened. “Tell me, baby.”

“Yeah, Hannie, I liked it…” You murmured back before pressing another kiss to his lips, forgetting all about the pocky as your hands travelled to the back of his head and you tangled your fingers in his hair.

A groan left Jeonghan’s lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming around your waist down to your thighs, pushing your skirt higher. “Fuck, is this okay?”

He muttered against your lips, fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, his eyes searching your face for any hint of disapproval. There was none, and you only tugged gently on his hair.

“Touch me, Jeonghan…” you murmured, and a soft noise left him as you said his name. He was too high to realise, and too focused on pushing your skirt up to your hips to care.

When you ground yourself against him, he panted, his dick stirring in his sweatpants as he watched your panty-clad cunt grind against his growing erection. A curse left Jeonghan’s lips when you ducked your head down, kissing his neck as he guided your hips.

“Just like that, sweetheart, mnh…” He grunted as he saw the wet patch forming against his pants, and your panties were probably soaked from the stimulation. He leaned his head back against the headboard, dizzy with pleasure and the weed working through his system. “I want to fuck you so bad, but I can't—”

He choked out, and you whined. “Why not?”

Jeonghan's hazed brain cleared for a moment, knowing that he didn't want this to happen this way—not when you didn't know who he was yet. Not when he was pretending to be someone else.

“Jeonghan, please…” You nosed his jaw, and that's when he realised that you were calling him by his name.

“I– how did you—” He faltered, groaning when you ground down against him once more, his grip on your hips tightening once more to halt your movements. “Baby, tell me.”

“Minghao told me… I kind of confirmed it when we called that night.”

Jeonghan grunted, moving your head from his neck as he made you look at him. “You're… you're not mad?”

“Why would I be?” You murmured, a puzzled expression forming on your face. “You probably had your reasons, and I'm not going to get mad over you hiding your identity. I'm more mad at myself that I didn't figure it out sooner.”

You pouted, moving your hands from Jeonghan’s hair to his face, caressing gently. “Can you fuck me now?”

A choked-out noise came out of him as he faltered and got flustered by your blunt request. He shook his head in disbelief before shifting slightly to sit better against the headboard. 

“You're something else, sweets…” He muttered, stealing a quick kiss from your lips as his hands travelled to the gusset of your panties and tugged them to the side to see your glistening slit. His cock throbbed at the sight, wanting nothing more than to be inside your sweet cunt.

Jeonghan opened the nightstand drawer to grab the box of condoms Seungcheol usually kept, seeing that there were two condoms left. He gently lifted you so he could shimmy his sweats and boxers down to his mid thigh, his cock leaking and hard.

You watched as he clumsily opened the condom and put it on himself. Once he was done, he tossed the empty foil and tugged you closer, positioning you above his aching dick. He paused as his tip teased your entrance, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“You sure you want—” Jeonghan cut himself off when you sank down on his shaft without warning, a moan leaving his lips as your wet heat clamped around him snugly. 

He watched as your thighs trembled when he bottomed out, your hips pressed against his as he raised you up and gently slammed you down, causing you to make such sweet noises that had him immediately addicted.

“Jeonghannie—” you whined, riding him slowly as he guided you, rolling your hips just right as his tip nudged against spots you wouldn't be able to reach with your fingers. “S'good—”

You looked down at him as he seemed to be focused on watching his cock disappear into your warm cunt, a groan leaving him before looking up at your face. You looked so fucked out, and Jeonghan loved it, his hips starting to meet your downward motions, thrusting up into you.

“You're perfect, sweets… everything I ever wanted—fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. You like that? Being everything I want?” He panted as he pressed soft kisses to your jaw and neck, slamming you down harder on his cock as he fucked you faster, not being able to help himself.

You felt wrecked, getting fucked so good by the same person you’d texted for over a week in his best friend’s dorm room. It was something out of a fantasy, and you couldn’t help but whimper when Jeonghan’s thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the nub as he tried to lead you to your first orgasm.

“Jeonghan, fuck, I’m gonna cum—” You squeaked, feeling how your cunt got slipperier and the knot in your abdomen got tighter. 

Jeonghan only grunted at that, his assault on your bundle of nerves not stopping as he kept thrusting up into your tightness. “Cum for me then, milk my cock for what it’s worth, hm? Come on—”

You cried out when his hips snapped just right, his tip kissing your cervix as your orgasm came crashing down on you like a wave. Your thighs trembled, but you continued to bounce on Jeonghan’s cock until he blew his spend into the condom he was wearing.

“Too hot…” You grumbled, tossing your blouse onto the foot of the bed, leaving yourself in your black lace bra. Jeonghan also shed himself of his hoodie and t-shirt, revealing his lean body. He pulled out of you as he tossed the condom into the box before grabbing another one. You were surprised how quickly he got hard again, not expecting it at all.

Jeonghan flipped the two of you over, so that he was on top of you this time, kicking off his pants while undoing your skirt to toss it into the small pile of clothes that you had made on the floor. Your bra and panties joined the pile soon after, leaving both of you naked. You panted softly as he ground his cock against your slippery folds, his cockhead nudging your pudgy clit before he pushed into your wet hole once more. His grinds were slow and lazy, but Jeonghan filled you up just right as he took one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, managing to hit deeper spots from this position.

A soft grunt left him as he watched you mewl and whimper under him, your arm covering your eyes as your breasts bounced back and forth with each thrust. “You look so pretty,” he murmured, moving your arm and pinning it above your head, seeing your eyes glazed with tears as he cooed.

“Why are you crying, baby? Is it too much—” He almost sounded panicked, and you shook your head, not wanting him to stop.

“No–no, it feels so good, Hannie, I just—fuck, it feels so good—” You whined as your back arched off the bed, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but lean down and press soft kisses to the valley of your breasts, worshipping your body as he continued to fuck you slowly.

Jeonghan relished the way your pussy clamped around his thick shaft, sucking him in and milking him with your gummy walls. Soon, his hips started to move a bit faster, feeling his release building up with each second of being inside your needy cunt.

“I’m gonna cum,” he rasped out, his pelvis rubbing against your clit with every rock of his hips as your velvet walls continued to spasm around him with increasing vigour, signalling that you were close as well. 

It didn't take long for the two of you to reach your orgasms, with yours hitting you first and triggering Jeonghan’s as the two of you moaned softly.

“One more time, Hannie—” You keened out a whine when he pulled out, noticing how sweat sheened from his skin. He was softly panting, still holding your leg over his shoulder as he pressed a gentle kiss to your calf.

“Can't… We don't have any condoms left—” He crooked out, but you only tugged him closer when he threw the used-up condom into the box once more. His cock was still half-hard, and you were aching for more. Jeonghan murmured your name softly, chiding you when you angled your hips, so that your entrance would nudge against his bare tip. “We can't—”

“Hannie, please… I'm on birth control, I just need you inside me one more time, please.”

You begged, and Jeonghan was weak for you. He probably always had been, even when you didn't know him back then. He sighed, praying that his stamina would last one more time. “One more time, and we're done. I'm not gonna last much longer…”

He admitted, and you just nodded. He didn't have to last long, you just wanted to feel him—feel what it was like to have him raw and creaming your pussy instead of a condom. Jeonghan clenched his jaw as he pushed his tip into your bare hole and hissed softly at how wet and snug you felt without any barriers.

“Oh, fuck… I'm definitely not gonna last—” He grunted, filling you up with ease from how slick your walls and inner thighs were. “Fuckfuckfuck—”

Jeonghan groaned, his pace hasty as he drove his cock into your spasming cunt, gripping and sucking him in like a vice. His cock molded your insides, his cockhead abusing your cervix with each thrust as you squealed. 

You could feel your release building up once more, the heat in your abdomen unbearable as you clamped down on Jeonghan’s shaft, the band snapping and releasing hot slick around his length. The pleasure felt like hot lava against your skin, burning you as your back arched off the bed, making a mess out of Seungcheol’s sheets. Your pussy milked him, a milky ring forming around the base of his cock, and Jeonghan couldn’t hold it in anymore.

A guttural groan left his lips as his hips stuttered, movements stilling as he came inside you in hot spurts. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, not being able to hold in your keen whine as he filled you up to the brim until both of your mixed releases were leaking out of your used cunt to your ass down to the already messy sheets.

Once Jeonghan recovered, he pressed a soft kiss to your throat, pulling out as he watched his cum and your juices leak out of you before pushing it back in with his fingers. The action made you whimper, but you let him do what he wanted, watching him with lidded eyes.

“We made such a mess…” He grumbled with a soft chuckle, “Cheol’s gonna kill me for fucking you on his bed.”

“Future us’s problem,” you murmured, groaning deliciously at the ache of your body as Jeonghan grabbed some tissues to clean you up before crashing on top of you. “You’re heavy—”

You complained, but Jeonghan was out like a light, his breathing heavy and rhythmic as you sighed with a soft smile, drifting to take a nap as well.

At about 3 in the morning, you could hear banging outside the door. Jeonghan stirred first as he groaned, grabbing his pants from the floor before tossing his t-shirt for you to wear. You put it on, along with your panties, and when Jeonghan saw that you were fully covered, he opened the door to see a disgruntled Seungcheol.

The disgruntlement immediately switched from shock to disbelief at the sight of his bedsheets. “Dude.”

“Cut me some slack, you invited me to this party. Plus, I didn’t expect we’d fuck…” Jeonghan murmured, sheepish as he glanced at you with a soft smile and a wink that made you flush in embarrassment.

“You smoked my weed!” Seungcheol hissed, groaning as he looked around his room, noticing the half-eaten snacks, the almost-smoked blunt and the messy sheets you were currently sitting on. “Man, I was saving that pocky…”

He sulked as you looked at him apologetically. “Sorry, Seungcheol.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s his—” He pointed at his best friend with a glare before rubbing his face. “I’m crashing at Mingyu’s. I’m not going to sleep in my room for the next week. It reeks of sex and weed in here.”

Seungcheol grumbled as he grabbed a few clothes from his drawer and opened the window before muttering something along the lines of “unbelievable” and “fucking in my room”. He closed the door after himself, leaving you and Jeonghan alone once more. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, stifling your giggles as Jeonghan covered his hand with his fist. “We should clean his room and head back.”

Jeonghan nodded at that, and you put your skirt on, still wearing his t-shirt, while he put on his hoodie before the two of you started tidying up his best friend’s room. Once you were finished, you held your blouse in your hand, leaving the room with a ‘sorry’ note with it.

Walking back to your apartment, you and Jeonghan had your arms linked together, giggling and talking about random shit. When you got to the bottom of your apartment building, he unlinked your arms, but didn’t let go of your hand just yet. 

“I’ll see you later for our date?” He asked, looking at you hopefully, and when you nodded, he sighed in relief. You cocked an eyebrow at that before he spoke up again. “I thought you wouldn’t want…”

“Jeonghan, I just had the best sex of my life. I think I’d want to still go on a date with you.”

“Just because I’m sexy? Or because you actually want to date me?” He pouted, teasing you as you rolled your eyes.

“Can’t it be both?” You compromised as Jeonghan hummed and pursed his lips, pretending to think about it before nodding.

He pulled you closer, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away. “Both is good, sweets. I’ll see you later.”

You smiled softly, letting go of his hand before waving him goodbye and heading up to your apartment, still wearing his t-shirt.

“That’s one hell of a fashion statement.” Minghao deadpanned as you jumped once you closed the front door. You turned around to see your roommate, your two best friends, and Jun in the living room, visibly waiting for you.

“What does it say?” You entertained Hao’s sarcastic remark as you tossed your blouse into your room before coming back to where they were.

“It says, ‘I was clearly laid, ask me about it because I’ll definitely brag’. It’s quite obvious.” Joshua chimed in, watching as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at his face. Your best friend let out an ‘oomph’ sound before throwing the pillow back at you.

You huffed at them, irked at the fact that they were all gathered in your apartment. “What are you guys doing here anyway? I get Hao, he’s my roommate, but you three? Wonwoo, how’d you get dragged into this?”

Wonwoo shrugged, pointing at Joshua, “He told me what happened, and as your friend, I came for support. So, are you going to tell us what happened during the party or what?”

“This is my sex life we’re talking about.”

“And? You’ve shared worse stuff, pipsqueak. Spill the tea.” Joshua seemed the most interested in the gossip, while Minghao just sat there, looking unbothered when he was lowkey listening. Jun and Wonwoo were too busy fussing over a game on the latter’s phone, but they were tuning in as well.

You sighed, sitting down on the free armchair by the sofa, before you started telling them about what had happened during the party. Deciding to leave out the three rounds of sex, Joshua was awestruck, Minghao was subtly judging, but at the same time, he was happy for you, while Jun and Wonwoo were still busy with the game on their phones.

“Now, get the fuck out of my apartment. I need to get some sleep before my date.” You pointed at the door, and Joshua whined but dragged your Wonwoo and Jun out of your apartment, but not before Wonwoo could say something.

“I hope he doesn’t break your heart, or he has four guys to deal with.” Your best friend offered you a smile before closing the door. You smiled at the thought of your friends beating up Jeonghan if he ever fucked up, and it warmed your heart, thankful to have such good friends.

After 6 hours of sleep, you woke up around 9 am, your phone buzzing being the reason why you woke up. You checked the notifications bar, seeing Jeonghan’s name on top.

Jeonghan: Good morning :)) 

Jeonghan: Can you come downstairs? I have something for you, sweets.

You: How are you downstairs???

You: We literally saw each other six hours ago.

You: I’m still in my pyjamas.

Jeonghan: Perfect. Could I come up then?

You: Yeah, I’ll open the door for you.

You got up from your bed with a soft grunt, looking at yourself in the mirror as you felt the soreness between your legs. A soft sigh left your lips when your intercom rang, prompting you to rush towards it and open the door for Jeonghan downstairs.

When he finally got upstairs, you opened the front door, seeing him holding two cups of what seemed like coffee and tea in one hand and breakfast from your favourite bakery. “Surprise?”

“You didn’t have to—” Your eyes softened as you let him in, closing the door as he took his shoes off after handing you the bag with your favourite pastries from the bakery. “How’d you know I liked these?”

“Well, uh…” He trailed off, his cheeks dusting pink as he strided towards your couch, looking around your space a little better. “I might’ve had a crush on you before the whole wrong number ordeal.”

You blinked at him, surprise filling you as you connected the dots further—the way he seemed to be awkward and nervous around you during the first few meetings when he was pretending to be Han and his flirty behaviour over text.

“No way—” You shook your head, sitting down beside him, surprise evident in your tone. “We didn’t even know each other back then!”

“Well, you didn’t know me, I knew you. We took Statistics together last year, too.” Jeonghan scratched his cheek awkwardly when you continued to look at him with an astonished expression. “I didn’t know Cheol knew you until a few weeks ago, and that was when I gained the guts to ask him for your number and message you, pretending that I had the wrong number.”

The explanation baffled you, but it made sense at the same time before you scoffed out a laugh.

“Jeonghan.”

“Mmm?”

“You couldn’t have made it any harder for yourself.” You snorted, and he groaned before laughing softly along with you. “Like, seriously. You could’ve walked up to me and talked to me.”

“It wasn’t that simple!” He covered his face, embarrassed, but he kept smiling, a little glad that you found the situation humorous. Jeonghan sighed softly when you finally stopped giggling, shaking his head at how cute you were before noting that it was quite quiet in your apartment.

“Is your roommate not home?” He asked as you hummed, taking a bite out of the pastry in the bag.

“Minghao usually goes to the gym before going for a three-hour nature walk around the campus park. He also takes his time to meditate by the lake, so he’ll be gone for a while. Why?”

Jeonghan just shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee as he watched you enjoy your food. He could get used to seeing you like this—dishevelled after sleep, face bare and hair sticking out from multiple ends. It was cute, and he’d been dreaming of this day.

You noticed his soft gaze on you, making you feel a little self-conscious. “Is there something on my face?”

“Huh-? No, no! I just… I’ve been kind of dreaming of this day, he murmured, smiling softly.

You tilted your head to the side, puzzled, before Jeonghan continued. “You know, uh, seeing you like this—dishevelled and whatnot. Just you.”

You swallowed the food in your mouth, blinking at him. “So, my usual grouchy morning self?”

“Yes.” He nodded, leaning back against the sofa.

“You’re even weirder in person, you know that?” You grumbled but cracked a soft smile. “I can’t say I hate it. Being my boyfriend and all.”

Jeonghan blinked at the words you just said, causing you to look at him with a confused expression once more. “What?”

“Say that thing again.”

“I can’t say I hate it..?” You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure, before Jeonghan shook his head and made a circular motion with his hand as if telling you to rewind.

“No, the other thing.”

“Being my boyfrien—oh.” Your cheeks flushed, looking down at your lap as you tried not to explode on the spot for saying that. “Is… Is that okay?”

“Is— Is being your boyfriend okay? Are you hearing yourself?” Jeonghan huffed softly before grabbing your shoulders and shaking you, “Of course, it’s okay. More than okay, actually—perfect, more so.”

You grabbed his arms and stopped him from shaking you, “Okay, okay—I get it!”

Jeonghan let you go and sat back down on the couch, grabbing his coffee from the coffee table before taking a long swig from it, and placing it back down as you finished your food. Once you were done, you crumpled the paper bag, and he wiped off the leftover crumbs from the corner of your lips.

“So…” You started, curious about what he had planned for today’s date, “What are we going to do today?”

Jeonghan only smiled, winking at you as he leaned back, “That’s a secret you’ll have to unfold later, sweets. I’m not fond of ruining surprises.”

A groan left your lips, too impatient, but knowing Jeonghan, he’d stay true to his word and not reveal anything until the date. You pouted slightly before taking a sip of your tea, humming at the hot beverage filling your system.

“Not even one hint?”

“No. Not a chance, sweetheart. Stop trying to ruin your surprise.” He squinted at you before flicking your forehead, prompting you to retaliate, but he didn’t let you as he grabbed your wrists.

“What if I don’t like surprises?” You argued and tried to tug yourself away from his grasp, and he rolled his eyes, keeping you close.

“Not my problem, sweets, you’re not getting any spoilers.”

Even with your insistence on having Jeonghan give you at least one hint, he only gave you one, very vague hint, which went somewhere along the lines of “you’ll love it” and “it’s something you really like”.

That hint didn’t really help, since he asked you to wear something casual yet pretty, so you were stuck between a white sundress adorned with tiny pink flowers or a loose V-neck sweater and jeans. 

Deciding on the former, you put on the dress, matching it with your white shoes, before heading back out to the living room, where Jeonghan was waiting. He was scrolling through his phone when he glanced up and saw you standing there, your hands behind your back as you awkwardly rocked back and forth.

“Stop staring like that—” You huffed, feeling awkward as he gaped at you before snapping out of it.

“Sorry—fuck… I, uh… You look pretty.” He got up from the sofa, walking over to you and grabbing your waist. “Like, really pretty.”

Jeonghan leaned down, nosing your cheek. “Wondering if we should go on that date right now or—ow, okay, okay, sorry.”

He snickered when you smacked him, grinning as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. That's when you heard a groan behind you, prompting you to turn around and see Minghao with squinting eyes.

“The two of you better not fuck on the couch,” He muttered accusingly before heading to his room, leaving you and Jeonghan alone once more. A giggle left your lips before you patted his chest.

“Let's go on that date, shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm for you to grab, and you smiled as you took it before heading out the door.

The two of you walked to one of your favourite bookstores near campus, which you hadn’t expected for your first date with him. “Bookstore date?”

“That’s not all, sweets.” Jeonghan grinned, opening the door for you as he let you enter the establishment. “I decided to ask the staff… And they let me rent the place out for two hours.”

Your eyes widened at his words, surprised at the fact that Jeonghan managed to rent the bookstore for a whole two hours. When you entered, you saw Kimmy—one of the workers in the store—by the register, winking and giving you a thumbs-up before waving a small green flag she held by the counter to promote books with green-flag men.

A soft giggle left your lips as Jeonghan led you to the small reading nook the owners of the store had agreed to make for you since you came by so often, and it was far from the main hall of the bookstore itself, so you had some privacy. The table you had there was set with a candle, and some food—takeout from your favourite Chinese joint that you frequented with Joshua.

“You thought of everything for this date, haven’t you?” You looked at him with a fond smile, and he hummed before grabbing a baby blue bag from behind one of the chairs.

“That’s not all. Sit down and open it.” He pulled the chair back for you, prompting you to giggle once more as you sat down comfortably and pulled out what seemed like a cinammoroll plush keyring. You glanced up at him with a slightly ajar mouth before he added, “Oh, there’s also an envelope, open it.”

Without another word, you grabbed the envelope and opened it to read, “Here’s my card. You have ten minutes to look around the store and five minutes to grab the books you want. Winky face, your boyfriend.” You looked at him, dumbfounded as he only chuckled.

“We’ll do it after we eat, it’s better to eat Chinese when it’s still hot.”

The two of you ate and conversed, giggling about the stupidest things as you reminisced about the things that happened a couple of hours prior. Jeonghan seemed to notice your flushed expression, grinning slightly. “You’re thinking about what happened last night, did you?”

“Shut up—” You squeaked, stealing a dumpling from his container, and he let you as he leaned his chin on his palm, looking enamoured by the sight of you. Feeling flustered, you took a sip of your drink before clearing your throat. “I’m full, so let’s do that thing, hm? I have a few books I’ve been eyeing, and I know the layout of this building like the back of my hand.”

“I’m going to be broke, aren’t I?” Jeonghan sighed with a soft laugh when you nodded, taking one last bite of his food before getting up and taking your outstretched hand, excited for whatever activity you had planned.

After the timer ended, you managed to snag about 8 books, two of which were textbooks, which made Jeonghan raise an eyebrow at you, but books were expensive as fuck, so if you had the chance to monopolise someone else’s money, you’d use it. The other six paperbacks were romance novels, with genres ranging from romantasy to standard romcom tropes.

“You sure like romance novels, huh?” He teased, looking through one of the books’ synopses, curious about the contents of the paperback, and opening a page where the main characters were having rough sex. Jeonghan whistled softly as Kimmy snatched the book from him, rang it up and put it in the paper bag. You thanked her as you waved goodbye while your boyfriend held the bag with your haul. “Are you sure you’ll manage to read all of these? Six novels are a lot, you know?”

You snorted out a laugh, shaking your head. “It’s the weekend, Jeonghan. I have a whole Sunday free, and my Mondays usually consist of theoretical science that I can miss because the professor sends video versions of the lecture anyway. I’ll manage to binge these in a day.”

That’s when you noticed Jeonghan’s slight pout, prompting you to raise your eyebrow at him before he sighed dramatically.

“Why are you pouting?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, still pouting. “My girlfriend would rather spend time with books for the whole weekend instead of her boyfriend—” You smacked him, cutting him off as he stifled his chuckles. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I mean, I could kick Minghao out for the day, and we can hang out in the living room without him side-eyeing us.” You shrugged, not thinking much of it, as the two of you walked towards the cafe, where you bought your tea from and bought some drinks before heading to the park to sit down by the small pond.

“How are you enjoying our little date so far, sweets?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. You shrugged, causing him to gently nudge you. “Come on, tell me.”

“Honestly?” You looked at him with a soft yet happy smile, “It’s the best date I’ve been on in a while. You’ve outdone yourself, boyfriend.”

Jeonghan grinned, clearly happy with the praise, before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, surprising you. “Perfect. How many boyfriend points do I get?”

“Boyfriend points?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, like… If I get enough of them, I get a prize or something.” He shrugged, making you blink at him.

“Jeonghan, we are not doing that. What are you, a toddler?” You snorted, and he made a face which you almost smacked him for again, but refrained. “We are not doing that.”

“Worth a shot.”

After your date, Jeonghan walked you back home and gave you a goodbye kiss that made you feel like you were on clouds. You felt all giddy, and you were giggling to yourself on the way up to your apartment.

Once you entered the apartment, you saw Minghao lounging around in the living room, watching something on the TV. He glanced at you before sighing, “How was the date?”

“Perfect,” you chirped, still smiling, which made your cheeks hurt. “I think he’s actually not real from how perfect the date went.”

“I’m sure you’re itching to tell someone the details, so spill.”

“You’re the best roommate ever, do I ever tell you that?” You sat down beside him after placing your paper bag with your new books on the dining table. 

“I’ve been told once or twice, yes.” He rolled his eyes, but Minghao was genuinely interested, wanting to know how your day with Jeonghan went.

“Okay, so…”

After talking about your date with Minghao and Facetiming Joshua and Wonwoo in the process, you managed to get some good night’s sleep. You couldn’t kick Minghao out for the day, so you had to cancel your plans with Jeonghan, but the two of you called for about three hours before you had to end the call because you needed food in your system.

While you prepared dinner, you found yourself texting your boyfriend, sharing memes or just talking about random messages.

Jeonghan: Whatcha cooking, good looking?

You: Just some cream pasta.

You: Reading was quite slow today. I only read 50% of the first book.

Jeonghan: That’s still a lot, sweets

Jeonghan: It’d take me about 3 days to get halfway through a book :/

Jeonghan: So, be proud of yourself for reading so much in one day

You: If you say so 🤷

You: Anyway, what are YOU up to?

Jeonghan: I’m playing video games with Cheol

Jeonghan: Kinda boring ngl

Jeonghan: Would rather talk with you ;)

You: Pfft, okay.

You: Play your silly video games with him.

You: And apologise about the weed.

Jeonghan: Just the weed?

You: And the pocky.

You: I don’t regret the sex, you know.

Jeonghan: Oh, I know ;)

Jeonghan: I’d so do it again even if we weren’t high

You: You’re evil.

Jeonghan: You like me so 🤷

You: Fair enough.

Jeonghan: I gtg

Jeonghan: Text you later?

You: If I don’t get immersed in reading, then yes.

Jeonghan: Okay, love u

You reread the message, trying to make sure you weren’t seeing things before turning as red as a tomato. He didn’t mean it like that, right? He meant it as a goodbye and not an actual ‘I love you’? You screamed into your hands, confused and flustered as hell.

On Jeonghan’s end, he was also screaming into his hands after sending you that last message, Seungcheol, looking at him with an ‘Are you fucking serious right now?’ expression. “Dude, you’re overreacting. It was just a text.”

“You don’t get it, Cheolie…” Jeonghan groaned as his best friend was more focused on the game he was playing rather than Jeonghan’s insistent whining. “I said ‘love you’ and not ‘I love you’ because I’m a fucking coward. And I wanna say it to her face, not over text.”

“Then do that?” Seungcheol paused his game, sighing softly.

Jeonghan only groaned, throwing his phone on his bed before rubbing his face from slight frustration. He wanted to do it so badly, but he felt like he’d be pushing it. “It’s too early for me to do it! I don’t wanna scare her off.”

He grumbled, and his best friend could hear his pout without even looking at him. “When did you become such a loser, Hannie?” 

Seungcheol teased, and Jeonghan glared at him, throwing a pillow at his friend.

“Shut up.”

A few days passed, and everything between you and Jeonghan was going smoothly, going on quick cafe dates in between classes, sharing lunch with your friends, or just spending time together in general. 

You were getting used to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend ordeal, not being used to having someone in your space besides your roommate. But you found yourself enjoying it more than you expected, liking the comfort of having someone to lean on for once. It felt lighter to have someone who could carry your burdens with you and vice versa.

It was a Friday afternoon, you had finished most of your lab work early and decided that Minghao had to go for the day because you wanted Jeonghan to stay over, and he just gave you an obvious look that meant ‘I know what you’re planning to do and I’m letting it slide’.

You were huddled up in a blanket, cuddling with Jeonghan on top of you while you played with his hair with one hand and read a book with the other, occasionally moving your hand from your boyfriend’s hair to flip a page. 

A soft grunt left your lips an hour into reading, prompting Jeonghan to move his head from your chest. “What is it?”

“Nothing… I mean, not nothing, I just don’t wanna move at the moment,” you grumbled softly as your cheeks burned. You didn’t want to ask him for it. No way.

“Do you need to pee or something—”

“No, no! It’s just…” You trailed off, your cheeks and ears dusting red as you tried to spit it out. “There’s a sex scene I don’t really get.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan murmured, causing you to flush further from embarrassment, before he tutted softly, “Well, that can’t do, can it? What’s the scene? Read it for me, baby.”

“O–oh, uh, okay…” You cleared your throat. “Harlan angled my hips, spreading my legs wide, teasing his cock against my slit before pushing in—”

“Okay, I got the gist of it, geez. I forgot most of those romance books of yours are in first person,” he grumbled before taking the book from you and placing it down on the coffee table before shifting slightly between your legs. “That’s just simple missionary, sweetheart. Why are you so confused?”

“Because there’s more, Hannie. Let me finish, will you?” You huffed, grabbing the book once more, and he chuckled before nodding. 

You cleared your throat again and continued, “Pushing in with one easy thrust, my pussy squelched from how wet he’d gotten me. I whined, trembling like a leaf as I pawed my enemy’s chest—”

“They’re enemies?” Jeonghan cut you off, gasping dramatically as you rolled your eyes and continued reading.

“—looking up at him so fucked out and dazed. He pumped his shaft into me a couple of times before flipping me around to my stomach without pulling out, burying my face into the pillows of my bed. He grabbed my hips up and started fucking me harder while muttering the lewdest things into my ear.”

You finished reading the part of the page, Jeonghan’s eyes half-lidded as he licked his lips. “I got the gist of it. You wanna…?”

Your thighs clenched around his hips, signalling him that you indeed wanted it. A soft groan left his lips as he slipped off the blanket from your bodies, his hands starting to roam along your hips and waist, pushing up the t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare breasts. He expected it, since the two of you were home, but he still enjoyed the sight. 

A whine left your lips when he leaned down, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, suckling and gently biting while he rubbed your other nipple with his thumb, switching between them so neither would feel neglected. Jeonghan continued his ministrations until you were panting and your nipples were wet, coated with his spit and aching with pleasure.

“Gonna fuck you better than what that dumb book described, mmkay?” Jeonghan crooned against your neck, yanking your shorts and panties down your legs, and throwing them on the floor. His hand ghosted over your wet slit, teasing you as he spread your pussy lips open, watching as your tight hole clenched around nothing and gushed with slick that drooled down to the leather of the couch.

“Hannie, please…”

“Hmm? What is it, pretty baby?” He cooed. “You need to be patient. I wanna take my sweet time with your sweet little cunt this time.”

“But–but, you were gonna show me—”

Jeonghan shushed you softly. “I said I’m going to fuck you better than what was described in your book. So, be a good girl and take what I give you, hm?”

You moaned at that, nodding as he touched you with reverent caresses, whispering sweet nothings into your ear before pushing two fingers into your wet heat, scissoring your sopping cunt as it squelched lewdly at his movements. Jeonghan stretched your inner walls, feeling them snugly flutter and wrap around his digits. His palm grazed your clit just right, pulling soft whines out of you as your thighs tightened around his hips.

Once he was satisfied playing with your sweet pussy, he pulled his fingers out before shoving them into his mouth and let out a groan. When he finished sucking off your juices from them, he smiled at you. “So sweet…”

Jeonghan didn’t waste any more time, shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his heavy, leaking cock. He looked at you, begging and reaching out for him, so he decided against looking for condoms, and it wasn’t like he had any with him to begin with.

Lubricating himself with your slick, his cockhead nudged against your bundle of nerves a couple of times, causing your legs to tremble and twitch before Jeonghan finally lined himself up against your entrance. Due to how slippery your hole was, he easily slipped in, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he felt your raw cunt around his cock once more.

“Fuck, fuck—you feel so good… Your pussy is sucking my dick in so good, sweets.”

“Hannie—Jeonghan, fuck—I, I, hngh—”

You whined out, grasping the material of the oversized hoodie he was wearing before he quickly shed it, so that he could feel your nails against his skin. You nailed his upper back, causing Jeonghan to hiss in both pleasure and pain from the sharp sting. He then started gently rocking his hips into you, each deep thrust knocking the air out of your lungs. 

Your boyfriend’s eyes darted down to where the two of you were connected, and the sound of his cock bullying into your cunt was enough to make him grit his teeth and think of basketball statistics to prevent himself from coming way too quickly inside your spasming hole.

Jeonghan groaned your name softly, peppering soft kisses all over your neck and jaw before he flipped you onto your stomach without pulling out, just like what you had read in your book. Something about him easily manhandling you made your stomach flutter and your walls to squeeze around his dick as he pulled your hips up towards him, your ass up, while your face got buried in the throw pillows.

“This is what you wanted, right, baby? Getting fucked from behind like a pretty little thing in heat—” Jeonghan grunted softly as he grabbed the globes of your ass, the fat dimpling under his grip as he spread your cheeks apart to watch how his thick length filled you up. 

You could feel how his dick twitched inside you when he saw the messy white ring forming around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting slightly sloppier and harder as he licked his lips. Your moans were muffled but still loud enough to spur Jeonghan on and made him drive his cock deeper into you—hitting spots you couldn’t reach yourself. The way his tip grazed against your cervix made you squeal and push yourself back against him, your back arching slightly from pleasure.

One of Jeonghan’s hands let go of your ass cheek, moving down between your legs to rub on your neglected clit, making you keen out a whine and your hole to clench around him tightly. Your toes curled as the heat in your gut expanded and licked at your tingling nerves.

“Jeonghan—I’m… I think I’m gonna—”

“Let go, baby, let go for me.” 

You whined at that, letting go as you let your orgasm crash through you, making your back arch further as you pushed yourself closer to him, as Jeonghan’s hips stuttered when your velvet walls milked him for his cum.

A choked grunt left his lips as he stilled his motions, burying himself deep inside you as he spilt hot, thick spurts of cum into your messy cunt. Air was knocked out of your lungs as you recovered slowly, hearing your heartbeat in your ears as your vision was slightly blurred from the overwhelming pleasure.

You whined in protest at the loss of Jeonghan’s cock when he pulled out. Turning your head, you saw him panting softly, watching your leaking hole as he pushed his cum back into your used cunt. That was when he tugged you, turning you around as both of you were leaning against your heels. He caressed your cheek and kissed you softly, leading you to sit on his lap as he leaned back against the couch until he was lying down, before pulling away.

“Sit on my face.”

The request caught you off guard, unsure about sitting on his face after he had just come inside you. But he seemed set on you sitting on his face, gently yanking your hips, causing you to grind on his abs accidentally. Your sensitive clit grazed his skin, and Jeonghan moaned at the mess you were making on his abdomen.

“A–are you sure-? I don’t—”

“I’m sure, sweets, ride my face. Let me clean that cute little pussy up.” His grip on your hips gently tightened before letting go, so that you could crawl over and hover your dripping cunt over his face. Before you could even stabilise yourself, Jeonghan pulled you down, his mouth latching onto your sensitive cunt immediately. He didn’t care about your mixed juices, only wanting you and your sweet wetness.

A moan left Jeonghan’s lips as he lapped you up, tongue flat against your slit as he messily made out with your cunt. You grasped onto his hair, tugging and gripping for support as you started to grind yourself against him, his nose nudging against your clit just right, your release building up faster than the last as soft mewls left your lips as your boyfriend cleaned you up. His grip on your ass tightened, eating your pussy out with increasing vigour as he felt you clench around his tongue.

Your orgasm hit you like a wave, toes curling as you wailed in pleasure, your eyes fluttering closed as your hips stuttered against his face. Once Jeonghan was done with drinking up your juices, he easily lifted you from his face, shifting you onto his lap before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I guess we broke the rule about fucking on the couch.”

The two of you went over to your room after the situation on the couch. Jeonghan was peacefully napping on your bed while you were silently admiring your boyfriend, playing with some strands of his hair. Noticing your sketchbook on your desk, you decided to grab it along with your pencil and eraser before you started to sketch.

Before you knew it, you had a sketch of Jeonghan with some details, smiling to yourself, and not noticing him stirring awake.

“Whatcha smiling about?” He rasped, his voice groggy after his nap. “Are you drawing?”

He seemed curious, so you showed him the sketch. Jeonghan’s eyes softened at the sight, in awe of the piece of art you had done in such a short time. “You’re talented, sweets.”

“Thank you… It’s something I took from my mother.” You smiled as you flipped through the pages, showing him more sketches, mostly of him, which surprised Jeonghan, but he was secretly very pleased.

After giving him a glimpse of your sketchbook, you closed it before placing it on your nightstand and huddling close to him. 

Jeonghan pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, happy in your arms. “I love you.”

The confession was soft, but full of meaning, and you couldn’t help but hug him tighter, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“I love you too, Hannie.”

“No take-backs. You love me.”

You could feel his grin against your skin, which made you roll your eyes before giggling.

“I do.”

FIN~

Taglist: @joshujin @wonushy @imissmyseventeen @bramos91

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Seungcheol - Seungcheol didn't mean to. When your hips bucked, causing you to drag your pretty pussy over his mouth erratically, he didn't know you were trying to run away from his sinful tongue.

Your cries are wet, sniffling, and high-pitched as you tug on his hair. But Seungcheol couldn’t bear the thought of removing his mouth from your drooling cunt. His tongue laves over your puffy folds, slurping every drop of your sweet slick seeping from your fluttering hole. His nose presses into your sensitive clit with each shake of his head, pulling you over the edge for the third time tonight.

And your body shakes as your vision whitens. Your hand tugs on his hair, trapped, sitting on his face as his arms curl around your thighs to keep you in place. Your other hand smacks into the anime poster above his wall, its of a barely clad Mitsuri Kanroji, and Seungcheol is curling his tongue inside to feel how your gummy walls throb around his wet muscle as you cum.

When he doesn’t stop, your eyes roll back, your whimpers wrecked as you try to tug on his hair, your tongue too heavy to say anything other than his name. You’re the first person to let him do this, fuck, you’re the first girl to be in his room alone. And if he wasn’t going to live out all his lewd fantasies he’s read in his hentai books under his bed, then you were going to be in for a rude awakening.

Now, his pouty lips sucks your clit into his mouth like a man starved. He wonders, do you think he could make you squirt?

Jeonghan - Jeonghan overstimulates you on purpose. 

When he promised you a night you wouldn’t forget, you were intrigued by the nerd who was supposed to be tutoring you through history.

What you don’t expect is to be tied to his bed. He’s got movie posters of Jurassic Park and Dunkirk on his wall, with stacks of books on his shelves, ranging from King Henry the 8th to the Romanov sisters and the Roman Empire. But that’s not what you can focus on.

No, the electric buzz that resonates through the air takes all of your attention to the long-haired blonde. He’s kneeling between your thighs, his fingers playing with the hot pink dildo like it was a new concept to him. And maybe that was because it was. He’s only seen toys like this from late-night searches on his laptop when he was alone with a box of tissues and lotion.

But now, he’s got you on your back, legs spread, and your pretty pussy on display just for him. He hopes the twitch of his cock in his sweats isn’t as noticeable as the warmth at the tops of his ears, but he’s just so excited.

His idea was that if you could answer each question for your upcoming test for the end of semester 1 of your World History class, he’d allow you to cum. But now, he can’t take his eyes off your pretty pussy as you slurp the pink dildo farther inside your wet heat. The nub at the base of the toy vibrates along your puffy clit deliciously, and Jeonghan’s mouth waters as you cry out for the nth time. The orgasm is pulled from you as he tilts the toy up while he presses down on your stomach.

Yeah, he throws his idea right out the window - his new plan? To make you forget everything other than his name.

Joshua - When Joshua gets you overstimulated, he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers pulling his hair like it would somehow separate his mouth from your pretty cunt.

His tongue flicks over your clit just as his lips suck the bundle of nerves like you're his new favorite candy. And maybe it's because you are.

Joshua is still dressed in his sweater and tie, his fingers clutching your hips as you squirm under his relentless tongue for mercy. But his mouth just salivates like a man starved, your syrupy sweet slick pooling on his tongue like honey. He just won't let you go. I mean, how could you have known the sweetest gentleman who always shared snacks with you during library study sessions would have a wicked mouth and a sweet tooth for you?

He's got you tucked in between the dusty shelves in the back, your skirt flipped up to your stomach, with his face pressing even deeper towards your drooling cunt like it'll have all the answers to his problems. And it takes seconds for him to get you falling apart, your fingers tugging his hair to pull him away while you shake, doing your best not to be too loud - you're still in the library afterall.

But fuck, Joshua makes it difficult when he continues to lavish your pretty pussy with broad licks of his tongue :( easily getting you overstimulated and crying his name like it's salvation.

Jun - It happens slowly. Jun didn’t have much experience being with someone; his head was stuck in piles of books or preoccupied with using his hands to fidget with putting together scraps of metal and wiring to create something new. He didn’t think he’d get you in his bed, underneath him. You were so pretty, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, taking in each sweet noise he pulled out of you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It doesn’t take him long to find your sweet spots. The ones that have you arching your back for him, your jaw slacking open as your thighs shake in pleasure. And he has each gasp and whimper seared into the back of his head as you cum for the first time around his long fingers, the curl of his digits leaving stars to burst behind your eyelids as he watches with fascination.

That’s when you should have known you were in trouble. Because now, after two orgasms back to back, he’s splitting you in half with his cock. His jaw clenches as his hips roll forward nice n’ slow. Your cunt throbs its own heartbeat each time he sinks balls deep, and you’re at the brink of insanity as he leans back on his knees. He watches your walls flutter around his shaft each time his thumb flicks over your clit, and the slow build-up takes you by surprise as you suddenly cum with a whine.

You gush, coating his cock with a wet sheen, and he is in awe. He fucks you through your high, helping you through each ebb and flow of your orgasm until you gasp for air. And then he keeps going, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive bundle of nerves as you shake your head, “s’too much- I-I can’t!”

Jun’s voice is soft but rough, his tongue licking his bottom lip wet as he pushes forward again, filling you full once more. “Yes, yes, you can.” You don’t see the way his eyes swirl a little unhinged as he spreads your legs apart more. “Let’s see how wet you can get, Pretty.”

Soonyoung - Soonyoung doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. But he also doesn’t mean to overstimulate himself either. You just feel too good, he can’t stop.

His fingers dig into the soft fat of your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as his mouth waters in awe. His eyes are zeroed in on your drooling cunt, the way the fat tip of his cock drags through your puffy, glittering folds.

His dick is soaked in your sweet slick, the thick head of his cock bumping into your sensitive clit as he grinds against your pretty pussy like a desperate man. Which he is. Oh, so desperate for you. And when you told him he could do whatever he wanted, he just couldn’t put it in? :( He thought he might die. But he’d do whatever you want; he’s just so happy to be between your thighs.

Sweat rolls down the sides of his forehead as he concentrates, his hips pushing forward and dragging back nice n’ slow, building your high up again only to force you to shatter underneath him for the nth time. He can feel your folds throb around his length, your fluttering hole winking around nothing as you cum again, and he doesn’t stop. The tip of his cock bumps over your clit again and again until you’re a mess, your head falling back as your thighs twitch under his hands.

“C’mon,” his jaw clenches as his cock throbs angrily for more. “Just the tip, please.” His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes never leave his cock sliding slipperily through your wet cunt, drool already slipping from the corner of his mouth. “Just the tip, I promise.”

Wonwoo - Wonwoo was a man of facts. He didn’t do anything without much research. He needed to know the facts, to have all the information before he decided his next move, and with you, it didn’t change.

Wonwoo’s glasses fog up as his lips part. His eyes widen as he leans closer between your plush thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he watches your glittering folds get wetter, small puffs of his breath panting over your pretty pussy in awe.

He’s on his knees, cock straining against his slacks as his cheeks burn red. He couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. I mean, after finding out he was a virgin - shocker - he didn’t think you’d bring him back to your place, let alone sit on the edge of your bed so you could show him what he was missing out on.

And when you guide him even closer, his tongue lapping a long stripe up your slicked folds, the man of facts, of order, and information loses his last thread of restraint. He surprises you when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, his glasses going askew as he buries his face deeper into your addictive cunt. His groan is deep but muffled between your thick thighs, and you’re scrambling to hold onto your bedsheets for dear life.

Your first orgasm, although sloppy, has your thighs crushing his head as the obscene squelches of your pussy resonate throughout your bedroom. But by the third orgasm, you’re begging for mercy. The heel of your foot digs into his broad shoulder,s and your hand tugs on his hair, but he’s too far gone to listen. His eyes are closed, groaning lowly as he spreads your puffy folds apart so his tongue can reach deeper.

Eventually, it’ll be too much, and he’ll let you have mercy. But then he’ll force you into a nasty mating press, asking if he can feel your cunt throb around his cock until your pretty pussy molds to his length like he knows you’re meant to.

Jihoon - All the late nights watching hentai, of tissues at his bedside table, sitting next to his lotion as he watched his laptop screen, prepared him for this.

And fuck, you don’t disappoint.

You’re so pretty with your thighs twitching, your legs spread open to have him lying between them. He can’t believe you’re in his dorm room. He can’t believe you’re arching your back on his Solo Leveling bedsheets. That he has pulled orgasm after orgasm from you with just his fingers, but here he is. One hand pushing down on your stomach as his other hand fills your pretty pussy with three fingers while his thumb swirls your clit with the expertise of a nerd who only watched this kind of stuff during his free time.

He’s watched so many pervy videos of the pretty anime girls who moaned and gasped when the guy did this to them, and Jihoon might just cum untouched with the way you cry out better than any anime girl he’s watched. He curls his fingers, searching for the one spot that’ll get you squealing, and is ultimately surprised when you yelp before cumming for the nth time when he finds it. Your hands try to shove him away, your vision whitening as you orgasm, but he’s having none of it.

Jihoon keeps the pace, applying the pressure while hooking his fingers, and your jaw slacks open in a silent scream as heat flashes through your entire body. 

Jihoon absolutely meant to overstimulate you. His satisfied smirk says it all while your pussy gushes, squirting all over his hand messily as he fucks you through it.

He’s going to need you to do that again. And again, and again. His new obsession unlocked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure.

Minghao - It’s because Minghao is pussy drunk that he can’t stop. It’s not his fault that he’s never been inside a woman before. Heat crawls up his neck and ears, flushing on his cheeks as he overstimulates your clit with his lithe fingers. He sniffles, an apology almost crossing his lips, but then you’re gasping, your gummy walls squeezing his cock for dear life as he pulls another orgasm from you.

And he’s in awe. Stars swimming in his eyes as you cry out, your legs wrapping around his hips, conflicted to pull him closer or push him away because he’s relentless. His middle finger swirls the sensitive nub, his jaw dropping as your walls constrict around his shaft in time with the flicks of his fingers.

No, he can’t stop now.

So, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even move his hips, letting you buck your hips on your own as he taps sloppy hearts into your pretty pussy, absolutely in love.

Mingyu - Mingyu doesn't mean to overstimulate you; it's not his fault that he had to pull multiple orgasms from you just so he can prepare you to take his cock. He's a big man, and he has to have you drooling into his pillow, clutching his GumGum fruit plushy as he splits you in half with his thick cock.

He's got you on your hands and knees, your back arched beautifully as he drags you back to meet his slow thrust. He unknowingly makes you feel every inch that disappears into your wet cunt, the ridges and dips of his shaft dragging along your gummy walls until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head with a long moan.

By the time Mingyu is balls deep, you've orgasmed twice now, and that's not including when he made you cum on his tongue. Your legs tremble, your teeth sink into the pillow, and your walls throb around his cock in time with your racing heart that pounds in your ears. It's too much, you feel delirious staring at the Lord of the Rings action figures on his bookshelf as he pulls almost all the way out before knocking the breath from you when he pushes forward.

The headboard of his bed smacks into the wall while you cry out, your eyes crossing in pleasure as the tip of his cock smooches your cervix in greeting over and over again.

Seokmin - When Dokyeom, the coach of your little brother's little league baseball team, off-handedly mentions never knowing what the jokes about bases are when it came to dating... You'd like to show him, rather than tell him.

What you expect is a blushing, awkward, but cute Seokmin to not know what to do with you, and for you to take the reins the whole time.

What you don't expect is that there is a reason he's coaching little league on his summers away from college. Because he's got you in the backseat of his car, your leg draped over the passenger seat while his fingers curl deep inside your soaking cunt. The space is small back here, but Dokyeom makes full use of it. He's wearing his baseball cap backwards, the veins on his forearms on full display as he pumps his long fingers in n' out like you haven't already orgasm twice now.

Your fingers try to wrap around his wrist that's in between your thighs, but his free hand pins it above your head. He holds on to it as he watches your pretty pussy slurp his fingers greedily. His eyes swirl with a hunger that showed up after your first orgasm, your cries of his name music to his ears, and he just needs to see you fall apart one more time. Just one more time, you can do that, right?

Seungkwan - When you brought Seungkwan home to "study," you had a feeling you would end up like this. Straddling his lap, disheveling his hair with your fingers, with his cock inside you.

You had your eye on innocent Seungkwan for a while now. Loving how eager he was as your volleyball coach's assistant. He was so passionate, happily refilling water bottles, grabbing extra volleyballs, and helping you stretch after practice until his face was red as a tomato.

He was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't resist.

What you don't expect is that the stuttering nerd would fill you so deliciously, his fingers digging into your hips, controlling the pace as you rocked in his lap nice n' slowly. And like on the court, he's got endless praise fumbling from his mouth, his eyes dazed and filled with stars.

You've orgasm once and then twice back to back, leaving you sopping wet and sensitive, and Seungkwan's grip on your waist is still firm as ever. Your wet cries echo as he murmurs for you to cum again and again, driving you to the brink of insanity.

Vernon -  When your younger brother brings a new guitarist into his little "garage band," your eyes have never rolled harder. He claims they are getting really good, practically practicing every day in your garage, making what you think is just loud noise at this point. But that's just your role as older sister, to think everything your younger brother does is nerdy and lame - you're not supposed to find the guitarist attractive.

Vernon is a year older than your brother, a college senior majoring in music. He's got chipped nail polish and an oversized fur coat to go with his ripped jeans. And for their "heavy rock" persona, you've never met anyone who blushed as hard as Vernon did when you remind your brother they have 15 minutes to wrap it up because you have work tomorrow. You've been out of college for two years now, and even though you act like it's a bother for your brother to use your home as band practice, you love him and let him do what he wants.

That's why it's really bad to have Vernon bending you over the washer in your laundry room. He's your brother's friend, a nerd like the rest of them. He shouldn't be between your legs, filling you balls deep over and over again when everyone has already left. It shouldn't feel this good as your washer shakes underneath you, your cries drowned out by the laundry being washed.

Vernon shouldn't be able to get you to cum so easily, your palms smacking the machine as he fucks you through it, not stopping until your jaw slacks open with a scream.

Dino - Dino doesn’t know how he ended up in a closet with you at this frat party. He wasn’t even invited. He really was just dropping off homework to some jock who had deep pockets - Dino needed money, okay? A broke college kid gets desperate, and Dino is only good at a few things, and history is one of them! 

But what should have been an easy five-minute exchange turned into you grabbing him as your “seven minutes in heaven” when the bottle landed on your ex.

Dino didn’t know what to do with his hands when he was stuck in a closet with you, but he knew how to kiss. And he kissed you for the past seven minutes and all the way to the upstairs bathroom with the way your fingers curled into the front of his shirt after the initial “seven minutes” were over.

And then he kissed down your body while you sat on top of the bathroom counter. Your hands guiding him right between your thighs, where he kissed your pretty pussy until your squeals could probably be heard over the loud music playing on the other side of the door.

He had one of your legs hooked over his shoulder as his other hand held you in place. His tongue lapped at your glittering folds like it was the whole reason he had shown up to this party, to make your thighs shake around his head as you cried out for the nth time in less than 30 minutes.

Safe to say you were the newest thing he was good at doing.

-

A/N: lmao this took a life of its own... I just wrote with no idea what I wanted to do, and here we are- enjoy <3

As always, comments or talking in the reblogs are amazing!

It was a quiet evening, with nothing but the sound of the cars below the terrace passing by every several minutes. This time of night was your favorite, because it meant the noise of the world was off. Most people hated being alone with their thoughts, but it was the only way you could cope with the insomnia that usually took over your nights. Thinking, processing—working through whatever the day has given to you. 

You are hugging your knees against your chest, feeling the cold metal of the fire escape against your bare neck as you lean your head against the brick of your apartment building. There is a warm breeze passing through. Closing your eyes, you feel it fan your cheeks as you draw in a deep breath. 

Today wasn't much different than any other day, other than the fact that you received an invitation to a wedding you didn't want to attend. 

Which, fine, in hindsight, that made the day pretty shitty. 

It was one thing when your ex broke up with you, but for him to have the audacity to send you that invite just crushed you. You'd known he had moved on for a while, now. Seungcheol was never shy about showing off his significant others online, as you were once familiar with. When he began posting with his new girlfriend (Yuna, you think her name was), it was easy to deal with because he didn't live near you anymore. But then that pretty little envelope was stuffed into your mailbox today, and you weren't even sure why he felt inclined to send the invite. Did he feel bad for you? Was it some kind of pity invite, seeing as life hadn't been as kind to you since the breakup that it was to him?

When you open your eyes again, you hear a slight rattling coming from above you. Turning your head up, you notice your upstairs neighbor, Chwe Hansol, climbing out of his window. You'd never spoken to him much outside of a quick nod in the hallway, or typical "weather" small talk in the elevator. But you did know that he was a fellow insomniac. This had become an unspoken routine between the two of you: you'd climb out first, spend a few minutes alone. Hansol would follow suit, light a cigarette, and offer you one. Then you'd just...sit in silence. You were always the first to leave, the second that dawn started to break. Hansol always stayed a few minutes after you left before retreating to his own apartment. 

Your gaze turns back to the alley below, and you can hear the flicker of Hansol's lighter. When the smell of the smoke invades your senses, you hear him cough slightly. 

"You want a cigarette?" He asks hoarsely. He had either just woken up or been crying before joining you. You don't know him well enough to make a verdict, however. 

You push yourself to your feet and begin climbing up the stairs to the landing by his apartment. He passes you a cigarette, then quietly lights it.  When you press the butt to your lips, you sit. Your legs hang off the landing as you lean forward against the rail. 

"You look rough," Hansol observes aloud. 

You take a slow drag of the cigarette, then look over to him. "What happened to silence?"

"I don't want silence tonight." He answers. "Is that a problem?"

"I guess not." You shrug. The smoke curls out of your nostrils as you exhale and look ahead again. "Yeah, it was a rough day. What about you?"

"Same." Hansol presses his lips into a thin line. 

The silence returns, and in a way, you're thankful for it. It's not that you had anything against Hansol, but this was unfamiliar. Talking wasn't something the two of you ever did, so why now?

You take another drag of the cigarette, letting the breeze take the smoke away with it. After a few moments, Hansol sits next to you. His shoulder bumps yours momentarily before he quickly moves away. 

"What's your name?"

You laugh, flicking the ash off the end of your cigarette. It falls through the fire escape as you look over to him. 

"I know your name."  You comment. "All these months of living next to each other, and you never figured it out?"

"I guess I never paid attention before." He admits. 

Rolling your eyes, you give him your name. Hansol repeats it, like he's engraining it into his memory. 

"Pretty." He mutters. "It suits you."

You choose to ignore the compliment. "Hansol suits you. I guess, as much as I can assume."

"I guess," Hansol repeats as a smile creeps up onto his face. "You want to talk about your shitty day?"

The truth was, talking about it would be really nice. But you didn't know Hansol well enough to feel like you could dump your issues onto him. So you opt to keep things vague. At least for now. 

"I heard from someone today." You spoke slowly. "I, uh, haven't heard from them for a while. It kind of felt like a slap to the face, you know?"

He hums in agreement. "I get it. Did you say anything back?"

"It wasn't like that." You clarify. Sighing, you decide ‘fuck it’. "My ex is getting married. He sent me an invitation, and I don't know why."

That gets Hansol to look at you. His eyes are widened in amusement, and you almost want to wipe the dumb grin off his face. 

"Fuck," he laughs in disbelief. "What an ass. I'm sorry."

You shrug. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Why was your day shitty?" You clarify. "You can't expect me to share and think you'll get away with not sharing as well. You're the one who wanted to talk."

"Right." He mutters. He reaches behind the two of you, grabbing the ashtray. You both put your cigarettes out, then turn your gazes back to the alleyway. "My girlfriend broke up with me. Work sucked, too. I guess the universe has it out for me right now."

"For both of us." You grunt. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about the breakup?"

"Not really." He says casually. It's like he's unaffected by it, which seems odd to you. You push the thought away, though. "It was a matter of time. We weren't good for each other. I guess I was expecting to do it before she did, though."

You scoff at that. "What, you got a bruised ego now?"

"So what if I do?" Hansol retorts. "Besides, it seems like you're not much better off. Your ex invited you to a wedding–one that isn't with you, by the way."

It's quiet for a second, and then you laugh. It catches Hansol by surprise, but you couldn't help it. It bubbles out of you before you have the chance to stop it.

"Fuck." You manage through your laughter. "What a bunch of losers we are, huh?"

That elicits a laugh from Hansol. "Well, she called me a scumbag, but loser works, too."

"They're interchangeable." You fire back as you look over to him. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry you had a shitty day."

"Yeah." Hansol sighs, meeting your gaze. "You too."

The two of you fell back into your normal routine after that night. A week passed without any conversation, but there was a shift in the air: like you both understood each other a little bit more, now. 

Meanwhile, the RSVP on your table remained. It is gradually approaching the date to send it back, and you aren't yet sure which path to take. The idea of asking Hansol his thoughts left as quickly as it came. You weren't sure if the conversation from last week warranted a pass to ask him for life advice–especially when it was about your ex. 

The rattling of a window pulls you from your thoughts. You glance at the clock on your stove.

6:43 pm.

He was early...eight hours early. Your feet begin to move before you can think twice about it. The window sticks a moment before you get it fully pushed up. You're greeted by Hansol walking down to your window, looking flustered and angry.

"Can I rant?" He asks, a bit winded from making the descent to your apartment. 

You blink a few times. "Sure."

Stepping to the side, Hansol hesitates before climbing into your apartment. As you close the window again, you catch him studying the inside of your home. You're suddenly very aware of the fact that you let a stranger into your living room, and begin to pace back to your kitchen table. Back to the invitation.

"Nice place." He comments. 

"Thanks." You mutter. You like to keep things minimal. The place consists mostly of white decor and furniture, with a few pops of color here and there. Everything is always kept clean, and clutter is always tucked away. 

Hansol clears his throat before collapsing onto your couch. "I'm sorry for just showing up. I don't really have any friends in the area anymore, and I just need to get this out of my system."

"Don't worry about it." You wave him off. "Do you want something to drink?"

He thinks for a moment. "What do you have?"

You pad into your kitchen, then open the rickety door on your fridge. It squeaks slightly as you peek inside. 

"I have sparkling water." You announce. "I also have soju and–"

"I'll take the soju." He quickly cuts in. Then adds, "please."

Grabbing two bottles, you kick the door closed again, then meander back towards him. He happily takes the drink from you as you sit on the opposite side of the couch. You both drink in silence, almost as if the two of you were allowing the space to be made before approaching the topic. When Hansol pulls the bottle away from his lips, you see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

"My ex called me today." He finally says. "Not for any reason. Just to pick an argument."

"Over what, exactly?" You glance at him. He runs a hand through his hair, then takes another drink. 

"I still have some of her shit at my apartment." He explains, meeting your eyes. "I told her last week to come get it. When she ignored my texts about it, I stuffed it all into a garbage bag. I didn't want to look at it anymore, you know?"

You nod to let him know you're listening. He continues.

"Anyways, she finally came over about three hours ago to get it." His gaze shifts down to his lap. "She called me fifteen minutes ago to accuse me of throwing one of her stupid shirts away. Then, she went on a whole tangent about how I never took care of her things and how careless I am. She told me that my carelessness was what drove her away from me, and some other bullshit after that. She barely let me get a word in, and just hung up before I could say anything."

"Jesus." You grumble, taking a sip of your drink. 

"Yeah." Hansol scoffs. 

The silence returns, and this time, you're not sure if you should offer him anything else. He's sunken lower into your couch, like he's trying to be swallowed whole by the cushions. His expression is blank, and you're not entirely sure what to make of it or him right now. You take another swig of your soju, then set your half-empty bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Um, I know we don't really know each other," you lean back, looking over to him. His attention is still on his lap. "But I think it's good you're not in that relationship anymore. Not that it's my place to say, but you shouldn't be with someone who talks to you like that."

Hansol lifts his head towards you, then takes another drink as he holds eye contact. When he pulls the bottle away again, he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. You're not sure you like the way he's looking at you. There’s something behind his eyes that you aren’t quite sure how to read. Shifting slightly, you decide to change the topic. 

"If it's any consolation, things aren't much better for me, either," you laugh bitterly. "I have to RSVP by the end of the week for my ex's wedding."

Hansol laughs. "You're considering going?"

"I don't know." You say softly. Your shift in tone causes his laughter to slow, as he realizes that the thought was actually weighing on you. You groan, then lean back against the cushions. "I just feel like he's expecting me not to be there. He knows that I've been dealt a shitty deck of cards since he left, but my pride wants to prove that things aren't as bad as they really are."

"So, what, you want to go pretend like things are okay?" Hansol questions. 

"Maybe?" You roll your head to look at him. He is already staring at you. "I don't know. I don't care if everyone else knows how bad things are, but I just want him to think they're good. Kind of like rubbing it in his face that I'm fine without him."

Hansol pauses. "You're not?" 

"Obviously not." You roll your eyes. 

Your voice catches slightly, so you will yourself to look up at the ceiling. You were not about to cry in front of a man you hardly knew. It's Hansol's turn to be quiet. The gears in his head were practically audible; you could tell he was trying to think of something to say. You didn't necessarily need advice, but talking about it helps. Even if you're not sharing the full story. 

"Would it help if you had someone go with you?" He finally asks. 

You hadn't thought about that. Even if you did, though, you didn't exactly have friends to ask. There was Jun, your cubicle neighbor. You've gotten coffee with him a few times, but never enough to call him a 'friend'. Aside from that, your best friend, Joshua, recently moved back to the States to be with his family. Between the two of them, you were pretty isolated.

"Maybe." You respond. "But, much like you, I don't really have anyone around here. I don't have anyone I could ask."

He shrugs. "I could go with you, if you want?"

It's your turn to laugh. You sit up, then shift your body so you're facing him. He quickly sits up in response. 

"As far as I know, you could be a serial killer." You quip, grabbing your soju again. 

"Please," Hansol scoffs, but there's hardly any bite to it. Instead, a coy smile is painted across his face. "If I were a serial killer, I would've killed you by now."

"Hm," you hum as the soju trickles down your throat. You swallow, then rest the bottle in your lap. "Not a coaxing type, huh?"

"Nah," he shakes his head. "I think I'd be right to the point about it. I mean, why coax if I'm just gonna kill you anyway?"

The smile that creeps its way onto your face is easy. If you'd known Hansol was this fun, maybe you would've taken the chance to talk to him sooner. Then again, maybe that was just the alcohol talking. You were starting to feel the slight buzz as you took another drink. 

"I mean it, though." He adds. "I know it's, ah, weird to go with someone you just met, but, I dunno, we could play it up, I think."

You press your brows together. "What do you mean?"

Hansol clears his throat, then shifts his body to face yours. "Well, you want to make it seem like you've got your shit together. Right?"

You nod. 

"So, if I go with, we could both clean up real nice," he explains. "I could pretend to be your new boyfriend for the weekend. It gets me away from my ex, and paints a pretty little picture for yours."

The words don't form right away. It wasn't exactly a bad idea, but would it even work? You haven't really been secretive about the fact that you've been a sinking ship for the past couple of years, but you've also never been one to post your relationships online–so it could work in that capacity. 

Would Seungcheol even buy it? 

As if Hansol is reading your thoughts, he leans in slightly. Your knees brush. "You're overthinking it. It'll be foolproof. I'm a great actor, you know?"

"In case you’ve forgotten, we just met." You deadpan. "Plus, don't you think it'll be, like, weird traveling with someone you don't know?"

"Only if you make it weird." He shrugs. "It's obviously your call."

You take a moment to absorb Hansol's appearance. Part of you was really questioning if he truly could clean up well–you'd only ever seen him wearing the same pair of ratted, grey sweatpants and matching hoodie. You were also pretty positive the beanie he tends to wear had never been replaced. Did he own any other clothes? Now that you really thought about it, what did he even do for work? Hobbies? Obviously, he's had at least one relationship before. If you decide to take him up on his offer, you guys would really have to get to know each other.

Because right now, you knew nothing. 

Finally, you ask, "What's your favorite color?"

He falters for a moment. "Why?"

"If you're supposed to be my fake boyfriend, I need to know you." You counter. "I don't know you, Hansol."

"Oh, right." He nods. He tosses the last of his soju back, then sets the bottle down on the table. "Um, well, I like all colors, truthfully. I guess I lean towards red and black the most."

You don't even realize you're making a face until he smiles in amusement. 

"What's wrong with those?" He argues. "What’s yours?"

"Pink." You answer quickly. "I like blue, too. But pink has always been my favorite."

"Pink." He repeats. "I could've guessed that."

"Oh yeah?" You quip. "On what grounds?"

Hansol kicks his legs up, making himself at home on your couch. Without hesitation, he stretches his legs across your lap, as if he'd done it a million times prior to this moment. You should be weirded out, but much to your own surprise, you don't mind it too much. You find yourself warming up to Hansol's easy personality as you finish off your own soju and set the bottle beside his. 

"You're always wearing something..." he trails off, folding his arms across his chest, "...pretty."

"Pretty?" You raise your eyebrows at him. 

His eyes widen momentarily. "No, not like that. I just mean, you're always wearing something so girly."

You hum. "I am a girl, you know."

"I know." He groans. "God, I just mean that your wardrobe is so frilly and bright. Do you even know how surprised I was when I found out you smoked?"

That was an argument you couldn't counter. He wasn't wrong: your wardrobe has always consisted primarily of dresses or skirts. God forbid a girl likes to dress nicely. Even your pajamas, which Hansol often found you in, were 'frilly', as he worded it. You like matching sets and very seldom wear mismatched clothes. Nighttime was no exception to that. Even now, sprawled across your couch, you were donning a tank top and pants set you had gotten from a small boutique a few weeks ago. 

"I'm a woman of many surprises." You wink as you kick your own legs up onto the coffee table. "I got into smoking back in high school. I guess I thought I could try a rebellious phase, but it didn't work. The nicotine addiction ended up staying, though. Seungcheol hated it."

"Seungchoel?" Hansol frowns. "Is that your ex?"

"Yeah." You sigh. "But you'll meet him later. You're not missing out on anything exciting, really."

Hansol perks up at that. "Later?" He asks. "So, we're doing this?"

You stare back at him, silently cursing yourself for the slip of tongue. But really, it couldn't be all that bad. Conversation seems to flow easily with him, and this trip could be a good opportunity to get the closure you fully need. Having company would be nice to handle any fallout that might happen afterward, too. 

What's the worst that could happen?

"What the hell?" You sigh. "Sure. You can be my date to this wedding."

Hansol bites back a smile. "Cool."

You were juggling a handful of groceries when you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You curse slightly before dropping everything onto your kitchen table, not even caring that your new bag of apples just fell onto the floor. You push the door shut with your hip, then pull your phone out.

Seungcheol.

He must've gotten the RSVP. Your breath hitches as you hold the device to your ear. "Um, hello?"

"Hey." He exhales, like he wasn't sure if you'd really answer. You couldn't blame him for that, though. You weren't even sure when you last spoke to him. An awkward silence fills the air between the two of you, as you try to debate whether you let him talk himself silly, or if you try to manage a conversation. He beats you to the decision. 

"Uh, Yuna and I got the RSVP!" He exclaims a little too loudly. "A plus one, huh? Is Joshua coming?"

"No, he moved back to California." You answer. "I'm bringing my boyfriend."

There's no response. You smirk in victory as you begin to clean up your groceries and put them away. There's a light tap on your window, where Hansol is waving back at you. You silently wave him in, as Seungcheol draws in a deep breath. 

"You're seeing someone?" He questions. "That's...wow. Nice."

"Yeah, I am." You respond as Hansol walks over to you. He's carrying something under his arm, but you can't tell what it is. It looks like some kind of clothes. He gestures to your phone, and you mouth 'Seungcheol' to him. He chuckles.

"What's his name?" Seungcheol asks. 

You roll your eyes. "It's on the RSVP, Cheol. Hansol. If you don't need anything else, he just got here. I'd like to spend time with him."

"Oh, sure." He almost sounds disappointed, but you don't let yourself dwell on it. "Yeah, uh, we'll see you in a month, then."

"See ya." You hang up before he can try to say anything else, then toss the phone onto your table. 

"No pajamas?" He gestures to you. 

"Hansol, it's only four." You reply. "I just got off work. I see you’re already comfy, though."

He grins at that. "Yeah, I had the day off. I found some old suits, and I didn't know what you were wearing. I figured we needed to match." 

"What do you even do for work?" You question, carrying a handful of bags into your kitchen. Hansol hesitates before grabbing the remaining bags and following behind you.

"I manage a skate shop." He answers. "The one downtown? It's next to that coffee shop that Mrs. Lee owns."

"Oh, I think I know what you're talking about." You nod, picturing it in your head already. The downtown area has always been pretty worn and grungy-looking, but it's also one of the oldest strips in the city. You wouldn't have imagined Hansol owning his own business, but you were pleasantly surprised with that answer. A skate shop suited him, too. 

"What about you?" He asks, setting his bags down on the counter beside him. He begins to unload the groceries as you put them away. You fall into a good rhythm before you look over to him. 

"I don't do anything exciting." You grin. "I'm a secretary for a law firm."

"Gross." Hansol teases. "Have you always wanted to do that?"

You shake your head. "Not necessarily. But it pays well, and I get my weekends off."

He nods as he watches you put the last of the items away. You pat down your dress, then look over to him. He's staring absently, like he isn't sure what to say next. 

"So, uh, your suits?" You remind him. "What do you have?"

"Oh." He looks under his arm, where the clothes were still neatly tucked away. "Right. Yeah, I haven't worn these in forever. I hope they still fit."

"I can alter them if you need." You shrug. "My mom taught me how to sew, you know."

The two of you make your way to the living room again, settling on the same couch you sat in several nights ago. 

"I didn't know that." Hansol comments. "But I guess I could see it. It fits you."

When you were a kid, your mother was a firm believer in teaching you basic life skills. You’d learned everything between cooking, sewing, gardening, baking–whatever she deemed would be necessary to live in case of emergencies. 

"Okay,” Hansol announces as he unfolds and lays out the clothes, “I've got two options. I have this plain black-and-white one, or a tan suit jacket with matching pants. I could wear a white button-up under it?"

You lean in closer, running your hand along the material of each outfit. They both look fine, but you hadn't even taken inventory of your own closet yet to find something to wear. It was almost endearing how eager he was to go on this trip. You push the thought away. As you try to make a decision, you remember a nice cocktail dress you had bought shortly after your breakup with Seungcheol: it fell just above the knees, and was a very nice shade of brown. An elegant color that complemented your skin tone nicely. If you remember correctly, Seungcheol's invite also had a dress code. Earthy tones. 

"Let's go with the tan one." You look up at him to find him watching you intently. You scoot away from him again. "I have a dress that will match."

Hansol clears his throat. "Yeah, cool."

The two of you fall into your usual silence. Hansol glances out the window, where you notice the faintest shimmer of silver dangling from his ear. You gasp, playfully shoving him. 

"An earring?" You ask as he turns to look at you. "I didn't know you had your ears pierced."

"All these months of sitting next to each other, and you're just now noticing?" He smirks. "Yeah, I've had them for a while. Will I need to take them out for the wedding?"

You quickly shake your head. "No, no. They're fine. I was just surprised to see them, I guess."

"I am a man of many surprises." He winks. "What're your plans for the rest of the evening?"

Really, you hadn't thought that far ahead. You figured your usual terrace-time (as Hansol has now dubbed it) would be on the agenda, as it was every night. They were enjoyable now, too. The new conversations are always enjoyable, but now, the company is growing on you, too. It was funny how Hansol already had a slot in your day-to-day life, but somehow managed to fit himself into it even more. Not that you were complaining. You were nowhere near complaining. 

"Not much." You answer. "I mean, probably change and make some dinner. Then, of course, terrace-time."

Hansol laughs. "Uh, how would you feel about skipping terrace-time?"

"What, why?" You frown. 

"I was thinking," he draws in a deep breath, "since we have to play these...roles...what if we just hung out today? Like, a normal hangout. No wallowing on the fire escape and smoking. I'm talking about proper conversation. I can make dinner."

You stare back at him, a little taken aback at the suggestion. If you didn't know any better, that would sound an awful lot like a date. But you knew it wasn't. It was strictly business, of course. It was probably smart, too. You knew the two of you needed to come up with a fake story about how you met and how long you'd been dating... you'd need to flesh out any details now so it didn't bite you in the ass later. 

"Is that too much?"

You blink a few times, realizing you spaced out on him. You quickly shake your head, then push yourself to your feet. 

"No, sorry." You smile at him gently. "I'm just tired. I think that would be a good plan, though. The more we know about each other, the better. Right?"

"Right." He quickly agrees.

You hesitate for a moment when you realize you're still in your work clothes. 

"Um, I'll change, then." You announce awkwardly. "If you want to get the stuff for dinner...?"

Hansol's eyes widen. "Oh, right." He quickly gathers the suits again. You watch as he retreats back out the window and disappears up the fire escape.

By the time the dreaded weekend rolls around, the realization that you’re seeing Seungcheol again settles like an unwelcome guest in the pit of your stomach. You’re sitting on the airplane beside Hansol, who is bobbing his head along to whatever music plays through his headphones. 

The only plus side is that, within the last month, you and Hansol have gotten fairly close. You’ve learned a lot about him, and you guys came up with the perfect cover story for your fake relationship. You’ve both recited it a million times by now: you’d run into each other one day when you were both coming home from work. When you found out you were neighbors, you started spending more time together, and Hansol finally asked you out. 

You were just hoping the story would be enough to get through this weekend. 

As you sink lower into your chair, you feel Hansol tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. You roll your head to look at him, and he takes his headphones off. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

Shrugging, you look back out the window. “I haven’t seen Seungcheol in almost five years. I’m just nervous about what kind of emotions I’ll feel when I see him again. It’s been easy to avoid him since we didn’t live near each other, but now…” You trail off. Below, the sky is clear and blue. 

“You won’t be alone, though.” Hansol nudges you gently. “I’ll be there with you. Besides, we can make fun of how gross the food is and how fancy everything will be compared to our shitholes of apartments.”

You snort at that. “Knowing Seungcheol, the whole place will probably be dripping in his parents’ money.” You sit up to face him again, and his body is already facing yours. 

“God, to have that kind of money.” Hansol clicks his tongue. “You think I’ll ever reach that point selling skateboards?”

“Highly unlikely.” You respond. You don’t remember when the two of you got closer, but you don’t mind. His knee occasionally bumps your leg as you talk. “But it’s okay, because I won’t make that much answering phones, either.”

He laughs, laying his head back against the headrest. “Damn, we won’t have terrace-time this weekend.”

“Hm,” you sigh, “what’re the odds our hotel room has a balcony?”

Hansol crosses his fingers as he turns his attention back to his phone. He doesn’t move away from you, though, as he gently leans against your shoulder with his own. You close your eyes, trying to get comfortable. Having Hansol here may actually be really nice, you think. 

And maybe, hopefully, having him with you means this weekend will be manageable instead of intolerable. 

Good news: the hotel room has a balcony.

Bad news: it only has one bed.

You and Hansol have been standing in the entryway for a few minutes now, unsure of what to say or do. You couldn’t exactly fault Seungcheol for booking it this way, though, because he was under the assumption that you were coming with your boyfriend. You just didn’t account for the fact that hotel rooming would be an issue until now. 

“Okay,” Hansol finally speaks, taking a few steps into the room, “we can be mature about this, right?”

“Right!” You reply, but the way your voice wavers hardly hides the fact that this makes you nervous. Maybe if you just slept really close to the edge of the bed, it wouldn’t be noticeable that your friend was only a few feet away from you.

Hansol tosses his suitcase into the chair in the corner of the room. You watch as he opens up the blinds, then steps onto the balcony. Trailing behind, you set your suitcase on the bed and flop down beside it. 

“Damn, who knew that Hawaii would be so…” Hansol trails off. “Hm. Hot?”

A laugh bubbles out from you as you hear him wander back inside. He flops beside you onto the bed. 

“What were you going to say?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. He shrugs, then brings his hands up behind his head. 

“I was going to say cool, but we’re supposed to hate this trip, right?” He replies. “Or, at least hate the person who booked it and invited you.”

You hum. “I don’t think Hawaii needs to catch our smoke because I’m mad at my ex.”

“True.” Hansol agrees, then shouts, “Sorry, Hawaii!” Out the window. 

You playfully smack his side before sitting up, but Hansol is laughing. When you glance down at him, his laughter slows and something shifts. 

It wasn’t noticeable immediately. It starts with your stomach flipping at the way he is looking up at you. Then, your heart quickens and you can feel your smile falter. It seems like Hansol feels it, too, because you see the corners of his mouth twitch and the tips of his ears turn pink. 

In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never realized how attractive he is. Sure, you always thought he was decent-looking. But right now, as he stares up at you with his soft eyes and messy, brown hair, it really registers to you that Hansol is beyond cute. Beyond handsome. You’re not sure you have a word to describe it. 

You clear your throat and stand, quickly pushing whatever that feeling is out of the way. It has to just be the change of location, right? Don’t people usually have flings when they go on vacation? You’re nervously tucking your hair behind your ears when you hear him stand from the bed. 

“Um, do we want to shower and go check out the beach?” You ask, not daring yourself to look at him just yet. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not even sure why you’re blushing. Nothing happened. He just looked at you, and you feel a bit ridiculous for letting it fluster you so much. “I think I want to freshen up, but then I figure we can explore? There’s supposed to be a bar somewhere in here.”

“Sure.” Hansol says, his voice low. “Uh, you can shower first. I think I need a smoke break after the plane ride.”

God, you’d kill for one, too. But you think you need the distance from Hansol more, as you slide into the bathroom to start the shower. 

Yes, distance will be good. 

You’re finishing off your second margarita as you and Hansol sit in the sand. The waves crash against the shore, bringing a refreshing breeze with it. Beside you, Hansol is pressing the butt of his cigarette to his lips and inhaling slowly. When he pulls it away again, he glances over to you. 

“You know, I think this beats our fire escape by a long shot.” He states. “The air here feels more fresh.” 

You set your empty glass in the sand next to you, then lay back. Your hair fans out behind you. “That’s because the air pollution in Korea is so much worse than here.” You pause. “Plus, we’re on vacation. I think everything feels better on vacation.” 

Hansol sighs, and your usual silence falls between you once again. It’s a clear evening, making the stars totally visible from where you lay. You can make out a few constellations like the big dipper and orion’s belt. As the alcohol settles in your system, you can feel the tequila catching up to you as your head begins to feel light. 

The shower earlier helped, and you think that fleeting moment in the hotel room was just a combination of exhaustion and all the extra time you’ve spent with Hansol. The rest of the night has felt normal, and you were grateful for it. It’s not like you have anything against him, but you’d be lying if you said a portion of you wasn’t nervous to get involved in anything romantic again. 

Assuming that was what Hansol felt too, anyway. 

“Hey,” he says as he stretches out and lays beside you, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but…what happened between you and Seungcheol?” 

You shift slightly. “Oh.”

“Sorry if that’s crossing some kind of boundary.” He quickly adds. “I was just curious. It seems to be weighing on you a lot, so—“

“It’s okay,” You reassure him. “I don’t care that you asked. I just haven’t talked about it in a few years.”

Hansol is quiet, as if to give you the space you need to either share more or stop the conversation all together. You draw in a deep breath. As if the margarita has made a decision for you, you begin to feel the words spill out before you can stop them. 

“Seungcheol and I first met at university.” You explain. “He was going for law, and I was going for business. We shared a few classes, and started going out in our second to last year of our undergrad programs.”

Hansol is quiet, so you keep going. 

“Things were fine for a while,” you continue as you fold your hands across your stomach. “We dated for three years. I guess somewhere along the way he decided that he didn’t love me anymore. He just forgot to tell me that before he started seeing someone else.”

You hear Hansol sit up beside you. You turn your head to find him frowning. 

“He cheated on you?” He asks. 

“More or less,” you shrug. “Anyway, the girl he’s marrying is who he did it with. That’s why this whole invitation has felt like some sick joke.”

Hansol’s jaw tightens, as he looks out at the ocean in front of you both. “What a dick.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” You scoff. “But, yeah. I’m really appreciative that you offered to come with me, though. It’s only been eight hours, but I’m having fun so far.”

When he turns to look at you again, you feel the same shift as you did back in the hotel room. With the tequila in your system, though, the feeling is a lot more intense. His features seem amplified in the moonlight as the breeze sweeps through his brown hair. 

“I’m having fun, too.” He replies as a smile teases at the corners of his lips. “It’s easy to have fun with you. I haven’t had that for a while.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh. Well, good. I’m glad. Me neither.” 

Hansol stays like that for a beat before laying down again beside you. You’re suddenly very aware of how close his arm is, and how it brushes against yours when he moves or shifts in the slightest. You don’t move, though, and neither does he. 

Desperate to break the silence this time, your tipsy mind begins to scramble for a topic change or something else to bring up entirely. You try to swallow down your nerves, but it doesn’t do much. 

“Uh, Hansol?” You turn your head to look at him. “Why do you think it took us so long to finally talk to each other?” 

“Hm,” He muses, stretching his arms out before folding them across his chest. It’s his turn to stare up at the stars, and you wonder if he sees the same constellations you had a few minutes ago. “Well, do you want the truth?”

“Depends on what the truth is.” You mumble nervously. 

Then, completely serious, he says, “I was coaxing.”

You blink, not understanding initially. When Hansol turns his head to face you, it’s obvious he’s trying (and failing) to hold in his laughter. That’s when you remember the serial killer joke you’d made to him when you first met. You gasp, and the laugh practically bursts out of him. 

“I knew you’d be the coaxing type!” You exclaim, quickly scrambling to sit up. “You’re too nice to kill right away. You know? I think you’d need to warm up to the idea first before giving yourself enough courage to do it.”

His laughter slows as his smile falters for a moment. “Yeah,” he says, his tone softer than before, “I’d definitely need the courage, first.” 

“Just, do it in my sleep, okay?” You tease as you push yourself to your feet. “If I need to go out, I’d rather not be awake for the whole suffering part.”

Hansol hums. “Noted.”

The morning sun seeps through the curtains in the hotel room, and you’re unbelievably warm. As you shift to push the blankets off of you, you begin to register the fact that half of Hansol’s body is currently draped over you. Your legs are a tangled mess, and he has his arm strewn over your stomach with his head in the crook of your neck. 

It takes all but sixty seconds to fully process its Hansol before your breath catches in your throat. You freeze, unsure if you should move or not. You definitely did not fall asleep this way–in fact, you were so close to falling off the bed when you first got in last night, that you were wondering if it would actually happen. Not this. Not the exact opposite.

When Hansol shifts slightly, you feel your heart drop completely. He lifts his head enough to look down at you. You watch as he goes through the same motions you just had: letting his eyes adjust, realizing where he is, and registering the position he’s waking up in. His eyes widen as he quickly scrambles back. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He says, his voice low and groggy from waking up. “I did not mean to–”

“No, it's fine.” You sit up. “Um, it just surprised me is all, you know?”

Hansol nods, running a hand through his messy hair. The silence is awkward as you both sit across from each other, unsure of what to do next. You dare a quick look at him, as he is distracting himself with his phone. He’s got bags under his eyes, and you wonder how long it has been since he got a full night’s rest like that. You knew for yourself it had been a while. More specifically, since Seungcheol left. 

You didn’t even remember falling asleep last night. The last thing you remembered was laying on the edge of your side of the bed, and laughing at some horrible reality show that Hansol had put on the TV in the room. When you laid down, you were out cold. The craziest part is you slept really well. It was a heavy kind of sleep that made you actually feel well-rested and not just more tired. 

Glancing at the digital clock on your bedside table, you realize just how long you guys had slept. 

11:38 am.

You got into bed around nine o’clock last night, which means you slept for fourteen hours. The thought makes you laugh before you fall against the mattress again. Hansol’s attention shifts towards you as he lowers his phone into his lap. 

“What?” He asks, laughing lightly with you. 

“It’s just been forever since I’ve slept.” You reply, looking up at him. “Did you even see what time it was?”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah, uh, I did.” He says. “We missed breakfast, though.”

“Do you usually eat breakfast?”

He grins at that. “Nope.”

You laugh again as Hansol lays beside you once more. The screen door to the balcony was left open last night, and you can hear the sounds of people talking outside and cars driving past. Something about the laziness and simplicity of the morning makes you feel light–like you were getting everything with Hansol you could’ve had with Seungcheol. 

You’d talked with Seungcheol in the past about moving in together. Sleeping in like this or wasting the day away in bed were the things you used to daydream about with him, but here you were, sharing it with your next door neighbor instead. Truthfully, though, Hansol was now past the point of ‘just your neighbor’. He was more, but the capacity of which wasn’t fully clear to you. If you’d asked the week prior, you’d say platonic in a heartbeat. But now, you weren’t sure. It was muddy. You wondered if Hansol felt the same. 

“You know what I’d love, though?” He blurts.

You look at him, and he’s already staring back at you. “What is that?”

“I’d love some terrace-time.”

After each taking a quick shower, you and Hansol find yourselves comfortable on the loveseat that sits on the balcony. Hansol is leaning back against the wall behind you, while you’re leaning forward, looking at the view of the beach below. Despite the atmosphere being a bit more cozy than the fire escape, you almost miss the rickety stairs and sketchy landing outside of his apartment. 

“What time is Prince Charming’s dinner tonight?” Hansol muses as he finishes off his cigarette. He tosses the butt into the ashtray, then lifts his head to look at you. 

You glance at him over your shoulder. “I think he told guests to be there at five.”

“So, we’ve got some time?” He checks the time on his phone. “They have rental bikes at the beach. I was looking at them last night. How would you feel about a bike ride around the island?”

You smile, pressing your own cigarette into the ashtray. “Is this more coaxing?”

“Oh, well, of course.” Hansol nods. “Gotta get your guard down.”

“I guess a bike ride could be fun,” you hesitate, “but I haven’t rode one in years.”

He laughs, then leans forward with you. His knee bumps yours, and your heart skips a beat. “You gonna crash and burn on me, or do I need to teach you how to ride one all over again?”

This is flirting, right? This has to be flirting. Or maybe you were reading too much into the past twenty four hours. You aren’t even sure anymore. Your thoughts are moving faster than your brain is able to catch up, at this point. Deciding to test the waters, you choose to tease him back. 

“Maybe I’ll need you to teach me.” You say lightly, trying to match his tone. “I think I’ve forgotten all of it.”

Hansol clicks his tongue as a smirk plays on his lips. “Tragic. I guess I’ll have to, then.”

When he leans back again, you feel your face warm. Hansol is flirting. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turn your attention back to the beach. 

You find out very quickly that you definitely did forget how to ride a bike, as your foot is planted firmly on the ground beside you. As embarrassing as it is, you’re terrified to push off and the worst part is Hansol can tell. 

Once his helmet is on, he glances back at you, trying to hold back any laughter that might come out. You groan. “Seriously, I don’t even want to hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He replies, his grin becoming more apparent. 

“You were thinking about it.” You pout, sitting down on the seat. “I mean, I’m almost thirty and I can’t ride a bike. That’s a little pathetic.”

“Nah,” Hansol waves you off as he props the stand, then rests his bike on it. He walks over to you, patting the helmet on your head. “We’ve all got our quirks.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, what’s yours, then?”

He thinks for a moment, then says, “I’m allergic to peanuts.”

“That’s not a quirk, that’s just a fact.” You argue. He laughs as he walks behind your bike, then leans forward. 

“If you’re done, I’m ready to get this show on the road.” He announces. “You wanna put your hands on the handlebars?”

“Not really.” You sheepishly admit. You shift in your seat, feeling how close he is as his black t-shirt gently brushes your back. You swallow nervously, feeling grateful he can’t see the blush creeping up onto your face. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He reassures you. “I won’t let go until you’re ready.”

After a few grueling seconds, you lean forward to grab the handles. At the same time, Hansol leans forward, resting his hands on yours. Your heart skyrockets at the touch, and you wonder if you’ll go into cardiac arrest on the spot. The two of you sit like that momentarily, before he clears his throat. 

“Okay,” he says, “when you push off, I want you to pedal. I’ll keep you upright and help you steer, so don’t worry about that.”

“What if I’m already worrying?” You turn to look at him, when you about bump your head into his from how close he was. It clearly catches you both off guard, as Hansol blinks a few times. Then, he manages to give you a smile. 

“Just trust me, okay?” He replies. “I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

The statement feels like it carries more weight to it than just riding a bike. You feel it settle deep inside of you, like it’s trying to make a home in the parts of your heart that still haven’t healed from Seungcheol. All you’re able to muster is a meek nod, as you look ahead at the sidewalk again. 

“Ready?” Hansol asks. 

“Ready.” 

Drawing in a deep breath, you push off and bring your feet to the pedals. The bike wobbles at first, but Hansol keeps it steady like he said he would. You go slow at first, when slowly the motions start to come back to you. 

As you gain a bit more confidence, Hansol says, “the left handle is your break. You want to try stopping?”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, which does nothing to calm the nerves that have been brewing since you got here. You do as he says, though, and slowly press down on the break. The bike comes to a stop, prompting you to sigh in relief. 

“You did it!” He exclaims. You look up at him, unable to contain the smile on your face. He returns it, then sticks his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Told you I’ve got you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh a little breathlessly. “That wasn’t too bad.”

“Want to try it on your own?” He hums. “I’ll stay right by your side for the whole ride.”

This time, it feels easier to believe him. So, you quickly nod, already prepping to push off. 

“Ready when you are.”

You and Hansol sit outside of the restaurant when you arrive as you stall for time before walking in. Just beyond those doors was Seungcheol and the same girl he left you for five years ago. You hadn’t faced either of them since, and you were feeling a bit sick to your stomach. Thankfully, Hansol was in no rush as he stood beside you. 

The two of you cleaned up, and put on some nicer clothes before coming here. Contrary to your initial doubt, Hansol cleans up very well. It was almost weird to not see him in his usual comfy clothes as he wore some nicer jeans and a button-down top. His hair was pushed back slightly, but still had the endearing messier look that you’ve grown fond of. It was true to him, and familiar to you. Kind of like a nice reminder that despite the facade, this is still the same Hansol you’ve sat next to for almost a year and spent all your sleepless nights with. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he leans against the wall behind the two of you. 

“Sick.” You laugh. “I don’t really know what to expect when we go in, you know?”

He hums, then holds his hand out. “Good thing you’re not alone, remember?” He reminds you coyly. “Just think about it this way: the faster we get this over with, the faster we can go back to the hotel for some much needed terrace-time. Maybe another reality show–?”

You make a face at that. “God, no more reality TV. But terrace-time sounds nice.”

Tentatively, you put your hand in his. Hansol smiles down at you before giving it a squeeze, then leading you both into the restaurant. It’s a nicer venue, with dim lights and light jazz music playing. The hostess directs you to the back party room, where the rest of the wedding guests are already mingling and drinking. Hansol pulls you closer to him as the two of you navigate towards an empty table to sit. Your eyes begin to wander, when you find Seungcheol at the front of the room. He’s laughing with Minghao, one of your mutual friends. 

“That’s him,” you lean towards Hansol, tugging on his sleeve. He follows your gaze towards Seungcheol, and his jaw tightens. He mutters something under his breath, but you don’t have time to register it before your ex notices you, and begins walking over. 

Your eyes widen, and Hansol is quick to throw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. Seungcheol offers an awkward smile as he looks between the two of you. He looks the same as he did five years ago, only his age is beginning to show on his face a bit. 

“Hey,” he breathes, “you made it!”

“I did RSVP.” You reply, forcing a smile. “Uh, Cheol, this is my boyfriend, Hansol.”

Seungcheol takes one look at Hansol, and his demeanor changes instantly. He straightens his back a bit, then extends a hand towards him. 

“Hey, man, glad you could make it.” He says evenly. You almost laugh. 

Hansol shakes his hand, and is quick to drop it. “Yeah, congrats.”

“Well, we aren’t married yet.” Seungcheol laughs awkwardly. “But, uh, I’ll take the early congrats. Thanks. So..how long have you two known each other?”

Before you have the chance to reply, Hansol cuts in, “almost a year. We live in the same apartment building.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol’s expression twists as he looks over to you, “is it still that shitty place near downtown?”

“Well, not all of us can live off our parents’ wealth.” Hansol retorts. “Besides, it’s not that terrible. You know, if you’re humble enough to acknowledge that it’s a roof over your head.”

Oh god, you want to hide. You’re not sure what kind of stand-off these two were starting, but you did not want to be in the middle of it. You can feel Hansol’s grip on your shoulder tighten slightly. Seungcheol folds his arms across his chest. 

“You’re right.” He nods curtly. “I should be more mindful of the fact that I’ve grown up a bit more privileged than others. Sorry to offend.”

His tone doesn’t quite match the words he’s saying, and Hansol seems to notice. You don’t want to give either of them the opportunity to keep arguing, so you decide to butt in. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of people to catch up with.” You say with a gentle smile. “You know, people you know better than us? I mean, Hansol and I are here all weekend. We can talk more later.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs, glancing between the two of you again as if to size Hansol up. Then, he returns your smile. “Really, I’m happy you could make it. I’ll just…see you around, then?”

He hesitates before leaving, but once he does, you sink into Hansol’s side and let out a breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in. Your head rests against his shoulder. Hansol stiffens slightly at the gesture before relaxing. 

“Well,” you announce, “that was fun.”

Hansol laughs, sinking lower into his chair. “He sucks.”

You can’t help but laugh in response as you pull away from him. He looks over to you as the annoyance washes off his face, turning into a lopsided grin instead. 

“I think we need some drinks.” You comment. “I’d definitely like to drink.”

“Awesome.” Hansol quickly nods. “I’m right there with you.”

“Whoooaa,” Hansol steadies you as you both stumble back into the hotel room. 

You’re laughing and everything feels good. Your head has the perfect amount of buzz, and you feel warm and happy and the stress of the weekend is miraculously gone. As you flop onto the bed, you kick your heels off and stretch. 

“They made some good cocktails,” you hum. “Really strong.”

“A little too strong.” Hansol teases as he sits beside you. “You should drink some water.”

“I’m fine.” You slur, rolling your head to the side to look up at him. His focus is on his shoes as he slides them off, but the only place your drunken mind can wander to is how good he looks.

You think about how nice he’s been, and how fun it was riding bikes today, and waking up beside him, and how hot it was when he stood up to Seungcheol. You tug lightly on his sleeve, prompting him to look back at you. 

“What is it?” He asks, leaning back on his hands. “You want me to go grab you some from the front desk? I think they’re selling water bottles. I thought I saw some Gatorade, too–”

“You’re so pretty.” You coo happily, cutting him off from his sentence. “You’re so nice, too. So nice to me.”

His smile falters for a second, like you caught him off guard. He laughs a little breathlessly. “You’re so drunk.” 

“Mmm but I think that when I’m sober, too,” you muse. “I wish we talked sooner.”

“Yeah.” Hansol mumbles. His gaze softens. “At least we are now, right? Better late than never.”

Your eyelids begin to feel heavy as the alcohol threatens to let sleep take you over. Bringing your hands to your eyes, you attempt to rub away the fatigue. It doesn’t work. 

“Can we sleep together again?” You ask as you sit up. 

Hansol blinks. “Like, what, cuddle?” 

You nod as you push yourself to your feet and stumble towards your suitcase for some pajamas. As a yawn slips past your lips, you look back over to him. 

“It was comfy,” you hum. “The only time I've ever slept well was with you.”

Hansol hesitates as he watches you close your bag again. Finally, he clears his throat and says, “Yeah. That’s fine.” 

After clumsily changing in the bathroom, you drag yourself into bed, where Hansol already sat, watching the TV. He changed into his familiar sweatpants and hoodie combo that you usually saw him in, and you felt your heart flutter. The longer you were around him, the more he began to feel like home. 

Though, maybe in a way he always had been. 

The headache you wake up with is violent, and out to seek vengeance on you for the amount you drank the night before. The sunlight in the room is too bright, the soft whirring of the AC is too loud, and you want nothing more than to hide and stay in the room. 

Beside you, Hansol’s presence is warm and grounding. He’s still snoring lightly, with his arms lightly wrapped around your waist. Your face is cozy against his chest, and he smells like a linen closet. No overbearing cologne like Seungcheol would always wear, just fresh and clean and comfortable. 

You softly grab ahold of his hoodie, pulling yourself closer to him. If you could live like this for the day, you’ll be content. But then Hansol stirs, and your heart breaks a little that it’s over already. When you don’t lift your head immediately, you feel Hansol’s grip tighten just the slightest. 

“How hungover are you?” He mumbles, his voice low and gravelly from waking up. 

“Too much.” You groan. “I hope I didn’t do or say anything stupid yesterday.” 

Hansol is quiet. Then, “You don’t remember anything?” 

“I remember leaving the restaurant.” You yawn, accompanied with a shrug. “I don’t really remember coming back here, though. It’s a bit fuzzy.”

“Oh.” Hansol says. 

You frown, then finally lift your head to look at him. “Why did something happen? Did I say something horribly embarrassing?”

The corners of his mouth twitch before he finally smiles. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes, though. But you figure it’s probably because he’s still waking up. “Nah,” he reassures you. “Nothing too crazy.”

Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling away and it almost hurts when he does. Hansol rolls onto his back, then reaches for his phone on his bedside table. You sigh, then follow suit, grabbing your phone from under your pillow. It’s already almost ten, and the wedding starts in three hours. 

“I’ve been sleeping so well since we got here.” You announce, glancing over to Hansol. He’s scrolling on his phone mindlessly. 

“Yeah, uh,” he looks at you briefly before his attention flicks back to his phone, “me too.”

You discard your phone again, then roll on your side to face him. “What do you think our sleeping habits will be like when we get home?” You ask. “I’m holding out hope they’re going to get better.”

“I don’t think they will,” he admits with a laugh. “Besides, what’ll we do with terrace-time if our sleep schedules get fixed?”

“Damn,” you click your tongue. “Can’t give that up. It’s too precious to me.”

You’re staring at him, hoping for something–anything. A reaction, an agreement…you begin to wonder if maybe the vacation was just getting to you both. You’ve heard countless times of friends falling into weird situationships when they’re away from home, so maybe you’ve clung onto Hansol since he’s here with you and it’s easy. Except, the amount of times you try to tell yourself that, it doesn’t fully feel true. 

“I think I’ll shower and start to get ready.” He states, setting his phone down again. “Unless you want to go first?”

You shake your head, rolling onto your back. “No, you can go. I think I need a little bit longer to wake up.”

He says something else to you, but you don’t register it. Instead, you absentmindedly watch as he gathers his suit, then disappears into the bathroom. Once the water turns on, you bury your face in your hands. 

Maybe you just need to get over it. It’d be embarrassing if you tried to push the matter further only to find out Hansol never reciprocated those feelings. Besides, now that you knew each other beyond terrace-time, you didn’t want to lose him completely over some silly feelings from the adrenaline of vacation. He’s a good person, and good people have been hard for you to come across lately. That’s something you didn’t want to take for granted.

Poking your head around the corner, you see Hansol smoking on the balcony. His suit jacket is draped over his shoulder, as he stares out at the beach below. You can’t get your dress zipped and you feel a little embarrassed by it, but you also can’t exactly show up with your bare back on display and the risk of the dress falling off. 

“Uh, hey Hansol?” You meekly call out. He glances over his shoulder towards you. “I, uh, need help with my dress.”

He tosses the remainder of his cigarette into the ashtray, then meanders over to you. After draping his suit jacket onto the bed, you push the door open slightly. You’re holding the front of your dress up with one hand, giving a lopsided smile. 

“I can’t get it zipped.” You laugh nervously. 

Hansol doesn’t say anything at first. But his eyes drag over your body before meeting your gaze, and you feel your face flush. He swallows. 

“Yeah, okay.” He nods. “Um, you need to turn around, though, so I can zip it.”

“Oh!” You chirp. “Right. Sorry.” 

You spin to face the mirror across from you in the bathroom. Hansol hesitates before grabbing your waist with one hand, and the zipper in the other. His knuckles are cold as they gently brush against your spine while he zips. You hold your breath when he’s done, and neither of you move for what feels like several minutes. His hand is still at your waist, and you wonder if he can hear how loud your heart is beating.

“Hansol–” You stop, not really sure what you were going to even say. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze in the mirror. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, his breath hot behind your ear. 

“I, uh,” you shake your head, like that’ll snap you out of it. You settle on giving him a smile. “Thanks.”

He returns your smile. “All I did was zip your dress.”

“No, I mean,” you turn to face him, “thanks for coming with me. This definitely wouldn’t have been as fun without you.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Yeah, for sure. It’s been great. It’s nice having a new friend gained from all of this, you know?”

Friend. “Yeah.” You agree. “Although, I do miss our own spaces. I think terrace-time at the beach feels a little too luxurious for me, you know?”

“Definitely.” He gives your waist a quick squeeze, before dropping his hand at his side. “What do you think, should we get this wedding over with?”

“Please.” You groan, following him out of the bathroom. “Do not let me drink as much tonight, okay? Unless something horribly awful and dramatic happens, then I’ll probably want to forget it.”

“Heard.” He nods, slipping on his suit jacket. “Only getting plastered in case of an emergency: you got it.”

The venue is about as lavish as you were expecting it to be. There’s a gorgeous, floral archway at the end of the aisle, and elegant green, beige, and white decorations everywhere. The second that Seungcheol is in Hansol’s sight, he grabs your hand and tugs you closer to him. 

You take your seats towards the back, and settle as the last of the crowd trickles in. Despite being out of his line of sight, Hansol keeps your hand in his as he traces lazy circles on the back of yours with his thumb. His hand is larger than yours, but seems to mold perfectly against it. 

“What kind of food do you think will be at the reception?” Hansol asks, leaning close to you. 

You snicker, turning to look at him. “Probably something fancy that I’ve never heard of.” You whisper back. He’s close and your heart is beating at a million times per second, you’re pretty sure. You wonder if he can tell. 

“I just hope it’s something edible.” He grins, his voice low. “I’m a picky eater. What if there’s peanuts?” 

“If there’s peanuts, then I guess I’m killing you first.” You comment. “I’d have the high ground.” 

Hansol’s eyes widen. “I thought I was the one doing the killing here?” 

Instead of saying anything, you give him a wink and face forward again as you hear music begin to fill the venue. Hansol squeezes your hand gently, but doesn’t bother letting go. Not yet, anyway. But you’re really hoping he doesn’t. You like the way it feels in yours—warm and grounding. 

The two of you watch the families shuffle into place along with any remaining guests who have yet to sit. A few minutes pass before the ceremony begins, and everyone stands. The wedding party seems to take their sweet time walking down the aisle, couple by couple, until finally Yuna begins to walk with her father.

She looks beautiful. Even prettier in person, and seeing her eyes light up when she sees Seungcheol makes you feel…at peace, almost. You let your gaze follow hers to where Cheol is standing, with tears threatening the corners of his eyes. They look so happy. And a sudden feeling washes over you that since meeting Hansol, you haven’t spent your nights thinking about Seungcheol anymore. You realize that seeing them commit to each other like this was the exact closure you needed. 

But you also realize that you’re pretty sure you have feelings for Hansol. 

You forget his hand is in yours until he lets go and begins to lightly rub the small of your back. For a moment, you wonder if he thinks you’re hurt by the scene playing out before you. But when you glance back at him, whatever expression you’re wearing seems to clear it up for him. He smiles as everyone sits again, then shifts his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders. 

You like Hansol. 

Whatever the officiant is saying quickly becomes background noise, as your mind begins to spiral. This whole time you’ve been trying to write it off by the amount of time you’ve spent together, but you’re truly not sure if that’s the case anymore. He’s kind, and funny, and seems to know how to cheer you up despite you not ever verbally telling him. You glance over to him, but his attention is on the ceremony. As if he can feel your gaze on him, he looks over briefly, then smiles. 

‘What?’ he mouths. 

You grin, shaking your head. ‘Nothing’ you mouth back. 

After some obligatory introductions to some of Seungcheol’s family and friends, you and Hansol wander outside of the venue for a smoke. The butterflies in your stomach have not left since your realization during the ceremony, and part of you really wants to ask Hansol his thoughts about…well, everything. Getting closer to each other, this trip, and every interaction in between–you know in your heart that there had to have been something simmering this whole time. 

“I’m almost sad to go home tomorrow.” Hansol suddenly says as he leans against the wall beside you. “This trip has been a lot of fun. Quick, but fun.”

You hum, flicking some of the ash off your cigarette. “It’s been…” you trail off, not really sure where you were going with your sentence. Finally, you say, “Hansol, are things going to go back to normal when we get home?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, pushing himself off the wall to stand in front of you. “Define ‘normal’.”

You shrug. “Like, not seeing each other or hanging out everyday. Terrace-time being quiet…” you clarify. “I just–I guess I don’t really want to leave here and lose all of that when we get home.”

Hansol studies you for a minute, and you feel your cheeks warm. He presses the butt of the cigarette to his lips, inhaling slowly, before pulling it away again. When he exhales, he offers you a gentle smile. 

“To be quite frank, I don’t think I can even try to force myself to go back to that.” He admits. “Uh, but I would like to ask you something. I just need to know if it’s true or not.”

“Anything.” You reply quickly, suddenly growing nervous. 

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, clearly nervous as well. “When you were drunk last night, you told me you thought I was pretty.”

“Oh my god–”

“Hey, I’m not done,” he laughs, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray beside the two of you. “You said you would say it sober, too. When you said you didn’t remember anything from last night, I kinda wondered if it was true or not.”

At this point, your face is probably bright red. Hansol seems to notice as he bites back a smile, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Jesus,” you laugh nervously, turning your head down towards your heels. “Uh, that’s really embarrassing on my part but…yeah. I do.”

When he doesn’t reply right away, you’re scared he’s going to reject you or tell you he thinks of you only as a friend. You force yourself to look up at him when a few moments pass, and his smile is gone, replaced by a much softer expression. 

“Good.” He finally says, taking a step closer to you. “Because I think the same thing about you.”

“Wait, really?” You straighten your posture, putting the rest of your own cigarette out in the ashtray. “Oh my God, I thought I was imagining things.”

Hansol presses his brows together. “You knew?”

“No!” You quickly say. “Not really. I mean, I thought you might’ve been flirting with me this whole time, but I was kind of worried it was just because of the fact we were on vacation and had spent a lot of time together. I didn’t think you really–”

You barely have time to register the fact that his lips are on yours before he’s cupping your face, and backing you into the wall. Your eyes flutter closed as you melt into his touch almost immediately. His lips are soft as they move against yours, slowly and carefully like he’s savoring every moment of it–like he’ll never get the opportunity again. 

But, really, you’d like to do this every second of every day with him now that you know what kissing him feels like. 

Hansol pulls away momentarily, prompting you to open your eyes. His chest is quickly rising and falling from the adrenaline of suddenly kissing you. His own cheeks are flushed, but the way he’s looking at you makes you weak in the knees. It’s in a way that not even Seungcheol has looked at you: with so much adoration. 

“So,” he sighs, his breath fanning against your face, “do you want to be my real girlfriend or whatever?”

You shrug lazily, trying to be nonchalant with him. But your giddy grin gives you away when you say, “I mean, I guess I will. Or whatever.”

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Oh, to be Seventeen's little free use doll, whom they treat like their own sex doll and comfort plushie at the same time. Minding your own business, writing or scrolling or reading? Not anymore :333 you're always getting swept off your feet— literally— because there is someone's strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the floor to be carried off to cuddle and touch. You can count on one hand the number of times you've been left alone without someone's hands on your skin. They pass you around, not just to be fucked dumb, but because everyone wants their turn to squeeze and play with their little dorm doll.

Movie nights would always end up with you stretched over multiple member's laps like a cat. Gentle hands draw up your arms above your head, half pinned down, half entwined with theirs. Your head is on one lap, your torso stretched over the next, legs in another's. In the darkness only lit up by the glow of the TV, it's hard to make out whose hand is petting your tit, pressing thumbs into the arch of your foot, or stroking the flat of your tummy. It's also hard to make out who's sliding fingers down your throat to keep your little whines muffled. Can't have you distracting them from the movie, right?

Seungcheol would be forever breaking up petty little fights that started from bickering over whose turn it was to have you (looking straight at bss) and taking it as an excuse to neatly pluck you from their arms and set you on his lap and wrap his arms around you. No amount of struggling will get you out of his grip, even though he finds it sooo adorable that you have to try so hard against a fraction of his strength. The squirming inadvertently makes him hard, so he flips you over so you're sideways on his lap, held up by one arm banding around your ribs, while he strokes along the curve of your back and gropes the flesh of your ass. Cheol is content with the softness of you on him, more than any completion.

Jeonghan thinks it's cute to ambush you. A midday nap is often interrupted by Hannie flopping on top of you and pressing his face into your back, sliding the point of his nose up the divot of your spine. Any and all activity is interrupted by him sliding behind you, hands sneaking under your shirt (if you're wearing one in the first place), squeezing your waist. He firmly believes there's no better place for his hands than the dip of your waist. That's where they end up even at night, sliding behind you on whomever's bed you're sleeping on for the night, his cock pushing into your warm, still wet heat. Fucking into you while wondering how many of his brothers had used you before he did.

Joshua, our resident sweetheart. He scoops you up like a child, both of you giggling, and sets off on little "adventures", as he was so fond of calling them. He affectionately pulls pretty clothes over you, dressing you how he pleases, then takes you shopping for more. Each outfit you try on earns you a little kiss. Shua thinks you're adorable in soft sweaters cropped too high, swishy floofy skirts that barely cover anything, cute stockings that hugged your thighs. He parades you around svt, forcing you to show off your new clothes, ignoring the blush high on your cheeks. No, his focus was completely on his teammates, watching their eyes darken at the glimpses of skin where delicate fabric rode up, where the pudge of your thigh stuck out over the lacy edge of the stocking. Later, he sets you on his lap— in front of everyone's hungry gazes— and knocks your knees open over his legs. Warm fingers soon find their place on your clit, further down to your hole. It's utter filth, the way his large hand stretches the fabric of your panties. Vulgar, really, when it's so obvious it doesn't belong there, but nothing feels more right when you fall apart around two of his fingers, his brothers' hands aching along his with the ghost of your release.

Junhui treats you more like a house cat than a sex doll. Always picking you up at random times of the day and carrying you to the couch, petting your hair, rubbing your back. He pokes your ribs and sides, just to see you twist away and push his hand down. Once, inexplicably, he grabbed your entire face as you would a cat you wanted to bother. The resulting cat fight (hehe) led to you straddling his face, your hands pinning his wrists down above his head. It was all a show really; he could push you off, flip you over, pin you down and have his wicked way with his dear kitty, all in the span of a breath, and you both know that. Yet, he let it happen because he loved the weight of you on his face, your pretty, breathy sighs and whimpers, your mewling when he didn't, wouldn't stop licking at your cunt. Jun loved when you initiated anything, cupping your pussy and affectionately calling you his "little cat in heat", scratching behind the cat ears he bought for you. He loved putting you face down ass up on the living room rug, where anyone could walk in on Jun slamming into you, one hand between your shoulder blades, the other pinning your wrists behind your back. If anyone walks in? Well, it's so commonplace they barely take note of it anymore, but sometimes—after a long day, or a hard practice— they push your teary face between their legs, cooing at how you rub your cheek against the bulge in their pants. Nothing relieves their stress and frustration like pushing your head down, large hand between your cat ears, seeing drool and cum and tears mix on your pretty face, but you curling up on Jun’s lap like a content cat comes in as a strong second.

Hoshi . Is bitey. Half man, half tiger, half toddler is really the only way you could even somewhat adequately describe him. He's forever teething against the soft inside of your thigh, licking at you until you cry, fucking into you like a rabid animal, pinching your cheeks and cooing over you, before burying his face in your neck and mouthing at the skin there. The other members teased you about the marks he left, pressing gently down on bruises new and faded. There was no embarrassing Hoshi, not when he proudly showed them off when he could, yanking your head back by the hair, exposing the delicate arch of your throat. His tongue laved over the bites, tasting the salt of your skin, and he paid no heed to your incessant squirming. Your shoulders are always adorned with perfectly circular bitemarks, to the point where the others were concerned by them. What they didn't know, not until Hoshi walked out smug and shirtless after a shower, was how much you marked him up as well (to Mingyu's scandalized gasp). You were usually so pliant underneath them, your hands always pinned out of the way and held down, but Soonyoung adored when your small hands tried to grasp onto him, when your pretty, sharp nails clawed at his back and shoulders, struggling to withstand the onslaught of pleasure. The result? Long, fine scratches adorning his spine, shifting under the toned muscles of his back and biceps. He wears them proudly like his own tiger stripes.

Wonwoo is a cat maid enjoyer trustttt. He is also a little shit. Even without the frills of the costume, the cat ears and his hand are permanently on your head. Number 1 headpat giver. Reading? His hands are stroking your hair. Sleeping together? His thumb is brushing over the arch of your ear. You do something mildly cute (breathe)? Pat pat pat. Loves cuddling you like a plushie against his chest, both while lying down and sitting up. The cuteness aggression is unreal. At least, it is until the sadist in him takes over. He loves nothing more than locking a remote controlled vibe against you and making you do menial household chores like dusting and scrubbing in your pretty, too-short outfit that did nothing to hide whatever lacy thing you had on underneath. His favourite is when you are on your hands and knees, pretending to scrub the floor, the ridiculously frilly uniform soaked through with water, skin slippery with suds, smelling like soap and desperation, all because he turned the vibe up too high, too quickly. He makes you come like that, shaking and crying on the floor. Once. Twice. You were well on the way to the third when he gathers you up in his arms and sets you on his lap, uncaring of the water soaking through his clothes. He presses a firm hand over your pussy, forcing the toy against your clit, and lets you sob your way through your climax. Wonwoo is gentle when he cleans you up after, undoing the ties of your dress with nimble, long-fingered hands, lowering your spent body into a hot bath, cradling you until you fall fast asleep against his chest. Of course, not without innumerous headpats.

Woozi has 3 loves in his life: music, working out, and you. According to him, there was no reason not to combine any of the three, which found you in his studio, curled up on his lap. His hands absentmindedly kneaded at your flesh, sliding from your chest down to the curve of your waist, palming at your ass, then up and over your thigh, to the round of your calf. Even the delicate swell of your ankles and the arch of your foot was not untouched, pale, elegant fingers stroking the skin and squeezing the entirety of your foot. Between the quiet of the studio and his warm hands, you barely notice the haze of dreamland drawing its veil over your eyes, or soft cushions meeting your back. You wake up to the soft click-clack of the keyboard. stretching, you watch your lover work.

One moment, you had been lounging on the studio couch— the next, plucked from it by a Jihoon that seemed to stomp in from thin air. His face, bright like the full moon, hovered directly over you, eyes meeting yours, glinting with quiet mischief. You blinked, and then you were weightless, rising, and your usually reserved Jihoon? Doing barbell curls of all things, using you as an exceptionally surprised piece of gym equipment. Usually, gym equipment did not stare at him with wide eyes and a mildly confused expression. Usually, gym equipment did not fist his shirt and cling to him. Usually, gym equipment was not this fucking adorable. What was Woozi to do with you, other than to set you on his cock and show you his new hip thrust PR?

Dokyeom gave Seungcheol and Hoshi a run for their money when it came to sheer clinginess, what with how you're folded into his side all the damn time. He's forever squishing you into his broad chest, arms and legs thrown around you, head buried in the crook of your neck. Rarely would you get to cuddle him back, because he seemed to have made it his life mission to bring any straying limbs back to your body and make you as compact as possible. Slender, long fingers wrap around your delicate wrists and pin them down, with seemingly little effort, but you can't move an inch. Forget being a plushie— you act as his living, breathing body pillow, always warm to the touch. Your skin? Free real estate. His hands are always roaming, cupping the curve of your tit, pinching your nipples and tugging until you arch against him. Further down, squeezing the softness of your stomach and pinching the narrowest part of your waist. Further, and he's stroking your thighs almost reverently, higher and higher until his palm is flush against your cunt, and he pets that too. It seemed like sacrilege to call it dirty, sexual; the slow drag of his finger against your clit was worship, your whimpers hymnal, your pleasure his offering. The scrunch of your face when you come is enlightenment to him. When he flips you over and pins you underneath him, Dokyeom can't help but think you're his own miniature goddess stolen straight from the altar, come to life and flushed and demanding under his reverent hands. When he's through with you, after carefully shaping your body into his, pressing you down into the mattress, bouncing you on his hips, drinking and eating from you until he can finally call himself somewhat sated, he cleans you like a devotee, presses his forehead against your sweat-damp stomach, and breathes you in, more fragrant than any incense.

You are Seventeen's doll, and Mingyu is their housewife. That's why he's always setting you on the counter next to him while he cooks, lovingly feeding you the first bite by hand. You looked so fragile to him like this, his oversized shirt falling off your shoulder, riding up your thighs, exposing impossibly soft skin. While dinner cooks, he spreads you on the counter as his appetizer, licking at you until you're begging him to let up, to give you a break. He finds your thrashing impossibly cute, how your thighs can't close around his shoulders, your helpless crying because it's too much for your little body to handle. It's so easy to manhandle you into whatever position he wanted, to hold you up and against him while he fucks into you. Some days, when he has too much energy, when practice and working out and taking care of others weren't enough, he would lift you up into the air and take you like that, your feet dangling off the floor. Out of everyone, you were the most doll-like with him, limp in his muscled arms while he uses you to his heart's desire. It had taken you so long to take him fully, needing days of prep before the first time. Days of him holding you down while he fingers you open, the pads of his fingers flush and rubbing against the soft, sensitive spot in you that your fingers could never reach by themselves. Days of Seventeen surprising you in the middle of the day by pushing a toy into you and forcing you to warm it. Days of Mingyu easing in inch by inch, making you come with each one, until you could finally, finally take his cock, flushed with pleasure and fullness and the endless praise spilling from his lips.

Minghao loves aesthetics. He asks you sit with him during his tea ceremonies, noting your perfect posture and neatly folded legs with an approving gaze. Everyone else is always bending you in half, but Minghao appreciates the neatness of your movement, the straight, elegant lines of your body, even in the mundane everyday— writing at your desk, molding the shape of your figure against one of his brothers', the swish of your skirt around your legs when you walked. It was in the smallest details to him— the tendons shifting under your hand, the stretch of an affectionate arm, the gentle arc of hipbone, the arch of your back off the bed when you come undone underneath his lips, his fingers, his cock. As far as Hao was concerned, this beauty was all the more perfect bound in cherry red rope, crisscrossing the narrow of your wrists and waist, digging into the fat of your hips and thighs. He spends hours with you in his studio, entwined together under warm afternoon sunlight, testing different patterns across your torso while your head leans against his chest. Every day was something different— arms tied to your ankles one day, calves and thighs bound together, forcing you to kneel, once tied to him while straddling him on a chair. The boundaries between his own touch and the bite of rope blurs, until the pinch of rope and the nip of teeth are one and the same.

You often called Seungkwan your "adorable boo bear", complete with holding up strands of his hair into fluffy bear ears. And indeed, he looked like a cartoon baby bear with his big eyes and clingy, soft tendencies. Evenings with him were always spent with you straddling him on the couch, your face buried in the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around each other, breathing the other in. He cared for you in a way that was softer, warmer, care which seeped in through your pores until you glowed from the inside out. Beyond nagging you to eat and drink water 2982139 times a day, he fetched you meals himself, held bottles to your lips, and scolded your ear off. When you were on his lap, however, the praise was endless. He didn't fuck— he rolled his hips into yours slowly, hands grasping yours, pinning both of you down, kissing the planes of your face slack from pleasure. It wasn't a powerplay like with the others, either. His hands are exceedingly gentle on your skin, holding you close, and closer, trying to merge the two of you together. Your own hand stroked his round cheek, resting soft against your palm. You were his doll and he was your boo bear, and that's all that mattered sometimes.

Vernon is the most peaceful of them all, never given to throwing you around like the others (or gnawing at you like Hoshi). It's simply enough to share company, and occassionally, cat reels. He holds you as casually as he does his phone, manspreading on the couch and setting you on his lap, wide hand palming the fat of your ass. The unspoken order—grind—hangs in the air, and you obediently oblige, pushing your hips against the seam of his pants, head falling into the perfect curve of his neck. He captures your lips with his, a soft, slick meeting. Unhurried, calm, like everything else was with him. He wasn't particularly inclined to pin you down and fuck you senseless (not that it didn't happen), but enjoyed the pressure of you on him, the gentle press of your hands against his chest. Afterwards, the two of you fall asleep together, hand in hand, space between your bodies like open fields ready for sowing.

Chan thinks you're the cutest ever, especially when snuggled up on his chest. He also thinks you're the cutest ever when you're overwhelmed and half dazed, making adorable little faces of pleasure and unable to speak from overstimulation. He likes making you whine into his neck and chest when his wandering hands squeeze a little too hard at your waist, ass and tits. Chan was always using his strength to his advantage, knowing it drove you insane, grinning cheekily when it did. Your pleasure was his, and he carved that knowledge in your mind until you knew it better than you knew yourself. Eye contact is a must for him, to the point where he stops moving if your eyes fall shut from the pleasure. His favourite activity? Placing you on one strong thigh, supported only by your entwined hands, and forcing you to grind and look at him until you're sobbing into his shoulder from exhaustion and frustration. His pants are soaked through, but you still couldn't find completion, needing more from him. Chan loved the desperate tears tracking down your face. Once he takes over, you wish you did it yourself— he's relentless, bouncing you on his thick thigh until you're cross-eyed and stupid from how good it feels. He keeps going, long after you've turned completely limp, using your body to vent his energy out. Afterwards, he collapses next you, and spoons you until you both fall asleep and wake up again, though you are significantly worse for wear. It's hard to stay mad when he flashes that boyish smile at you, with sweet kisses and promises of food.

a/n pt 2: if you see me post more fics with the same themes no you don't

feel free to ask if you want to see more from this universe (ot13 or member specific) because I have MULTIPLE scenarios that I haven't included here. Both fluff and smut reqs are accepted!

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he blurted. “Not like that. I was…tired. And scared. And then you hung up and…”

“You hung up first,” you said, but there was no venom in it. Just the fact of it.

His mouth twisted. “Right. I did. I panicked. I hate when you’re not here.”

“I turned my location off because I needed a minute,” you said. “Not because I was disappearing.”

He nodded too fast. “I know. I know now. I just…God, I spiralled. I kept thinking you were out there upset, and I put you there and…”

A stagehand waved from the wings, two minutes.

You put your palm flat on his chest. Felt his heart kick. “Cheol.”

He stilled.

“We’re not perfect,” you said. “But I’m here. I came.”

He swallowed. “Can we talk after? Really talk? Not…across a battlefield.”

“Yes,” you said. “After. No phones. No dramatic exits.”

A breath of a laugh broke out of him, surprised and grateful. “Deal.”

Another wave, one minute.

He leaned in, forehead touching yours. “I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter, like the apology belonged right between you and nowhere else.

“I know,” you repeated, and this time you let your hand find his jaw, thumb warm against the edge of his in-ear wire. “I’m mad, and I love you. Both can be true.”

His eyes softened. “I love you. I never doubt that part. I just…sometimes I don’t know how to hold it without squeezing too hard.”

“Then don’t squeeze,” you said. “Just hold.”

He let out a breath. The noise of the crowd swelled, a wave rolling toward shore.

“Go,” you said, giving his chest a gentle push. “Go do what you do. I’ll be right here when you come off.”

2️⃣ Jeonghan:

Ah, yes, petty fights if you’ve ever seen one. Not the door-slamming, plate-shattering kind with this one. Worse. The kind where he goes quiet. He doesn’t raise his voice, he just withdraws, face smooth as glass, and starves you of words until your own start curdling in your throat. And the worst part? He’s not blameless. He knows it. You know it. You’d spent the afternoon chasing him from room to room like a shadow begging its owner to turn around. Five hours ago, you finally gave up, snatched your keys, and walked out before you said something you couldn’t unsay.

Now, backstage, Jeonghan realizes he may have engineered his own undoing.

He’s a man of ritual and superstition. Every show, the same three things, exactly three sips of warm water; shoulder rolls, two forward, four back, and a text from you that reads, without fail, “I love you, you are the best.” Four years of concerts, and not one has started without that message.

Tonight, the cup is there. The shoulders roll. But his phone stays silent.

“Jeonghan, I’m telling you again,” his manager says, palm flat to his chest, stopping him mid-step. “You can’t go off now. You’re on in five.”

“Please,” Jeonghan says, trying to keep his voice even and failing. “I know she’s here. Just two minutes. I need to find her.”

“She’s not,” the manager replies, already glancing at the clock. “I checked the guest list twice. She didn’t check in. Shoes on. Now.”

Jeonghan exhales, the sound short and sharp. He swallows his third sip of water like it’s a dare, shoves his feet into his shoes, and snatches a mic from a staff member with a muttered “Thanks.”

On the lift, lights humming underneath, the arena thundering above like weather, he stares at the metal grate as if it might blink first.

“Stage face.” Joshua says lightly, squeezing the space between Jeonghan’s shoulder blades. “Whatever it is, park it for three hours.”

“I am really not in the mood for motivational speeches, man…,” Jeonghan mutters, not looking up.

The lift rises. The roar swells. The first note hits, and habit takes the wheel. Jeonghan smiles on cue, sings on pitch, moves cleanly through the choreography, but he’s moving through fog. The crowd is a blur of lightsticks and glittered signs. He hits mark after mark like the floor is telling him where to go.

Three songs in, “Rock with You” crackles in his ear, and the left catwalk calls him like it always does. He goes, feet finding the rhythm his heart can’t. He makes himself look, really look, into the crowd, scanning faces and posters and hands.

And there you are.

You’re pressed against the barrier with your best friend clinging to your elbow, hair a little messy like you ran here, eyes bright and stubborn. You’re jumping to be seen, a poster rattling in your grip. The letters are crooked, the marker is too light in places as if the ink gave up halfway through, and the message is ridiculous and perfect: “I love you, you are the best.”

His mouth opens on a silent laugh. His shoulders, rigid for hours, loosen like a knot finally working free. He stops dead on the catwalk, and for a split second, the world funnels down to you and a sign that was clearly made ten minutes ago on a piece of poster board stolen from someone’s convenience store.

Your eyes catch his, and the annoyance you’ve been feeding all evening dies without ceremony. He doesn’t need the text. He’s reading it twelve feet away.

He mouths, slow enough for you to catch it, ‘I love you more.’

3️⃣ Joshua:

Joshua wasn’t the kind of guy who yelled. Even when you were wrong, and he knew you knew it, he didn’t raise his voice. He just… left. Not with his feet. With his eyes. The room would still hold his body, but he’d be gone, somewhere colder, somewhere you couldn’t reach. That was the worst part of fighting with Joshua, the way his quiet could make you feel like the smallest person on the planet. And he knew it.

Two days since the stupid argument, two days of clipped texts and swallowed words, and the scene kept looping in his head as he sat under the bright bulbs of the makeup mirror. The artist dabbed eyeshadow along his lids, he barely blinked.

“With or without?” someone asked behind him.

“Huh?” Joshua snapped back to the room, blinking at his reflection.

“With or without the glasses,” Hoshi said louder, pointing at the sunglasses perched on Joshua’s head like a second thought.

“It’s pitch black outside,” Joshua muttered, twisting in his chair. “Why on earth would I wear sunglasses?”

“Goddamn, you still got your panties in a bunch?” Cheol drawled from the next chair, eyes never leaving his own mirror. He adjusted his in-ear monitors like they’d personally offended him.

“I’m fine,” Joshua said, too quickly.

“Mhm.” Cheol went back to smoothing a flyaway strand, the unimpressed kind of “mhm” that meant he didn’t believe a word.

The room kept moving without Joshua. Stylists darted past with lint rollers and garment bags, a stagehand counted down minutes in a steady, rising voice. Someone laughed too loud by the door. He tried to care about the set list, the timing, the blocking, but his mind kept snagging on the last thing he’d said to you, and the way your face had fallen right before you shut the door.

Forty minutes later, the real countdown started echoing through the hallways. Joshua stood, suddenly all fingers and panic. His shirt, for reasons known only to the shirt, refused to cooperate.

“I swear to God, if this…” He yanked the hem, careful and not careful all at once. The collar snagged his mic wire. “…stupid shirt…”

He wrestled it over his head and felt his carefully shellacked hairstyle protest. A warm hand landed lightly on his bicep.

“Stop,” you said.

He froze. When he lowered the shirt, you were right there. No mascara tracks, no storm left in your eyes, just a soft focus he hadn’t earned yet. You didn’t meet his gaze. You adjusted the mic pack, unfastened the top button with steady fingers, then slid the shirt over his shoulders so it didn’t disturb a single gelled strand.

“There,” you murmured, smoothing the fabric over his chest with a tight-lipped smile “, See you after the show.”

You turned on your heel, already leaving, already taking air with you. Two days of radio silence clawed at Joshua’s throat. He moved before his brain could talk him out of it, slipping into step beside you as staff scrambled around, calling cues and carrying headsets like life preservers.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breath catching as someone clipped his transmitter in place.

You didn’t slow. “I’m sorry too.”

“I was dumb.” Hands swept over him, powder here, tape there, and still he kept his eyes on you. “I hate it when I get like that. I know I… leave.”

“You don’t leave,” you said, finally glancing at him. “You vanish while standing right in front of me. It hurts.”

“I know.” He swallowed.

A stage manager hustled by, counting down, “Three minutes! Three!”, and then someone tugged at Joshua’s waistband to hide a wire. He caught your hand before it fell back to your side and held it, quick and secret.

He exhaled, the closest thing to relief he’d felt in forty-eight hours. “I love you,” he whispered, the words almost lost under the thud of bass through the floor.

“I love you too.” You gave him a tiny, conspiratorial wink, as if it were a shared joke that love could be this loud and this delicate at once.

“Final checks!” someone called. A makeup artist floated in with a sponge, reaching for his mouth.

“Wait,” Joshua said, catching the artist’s wrist with a gentle apology in his eyes. He turned back to you, cupped your face like he could anchor himself to something softer than adrenaline, and kissed you. Not a timid hallway peck, something sure and grounding.

He let you go, just far enough. He nodded to the makeup artist. “Okay. Now I’m ready.”

4️⃣ Jun:

“I need to take your phone, Jun.” His manager’s hand was already outstretched, steady and impatient, waiting for him to drop it before stepping onto the stage.

Jun stared at the screen a second longer than he should have. Letting go felt harder than it usually did, harder than it ever had, especially when he still hadn’t heard from you. In a few seconds, he’d be logged off from the world for over four hours, cut off completely, and the silence scared him more than the crowd ever could.

You were usually backstage by now. A quick kiss for luck, a quiet smile just for him, a few painfully unfunny jokes shared with the others. Familiar things. Comforting things. But tonight, you weren’t there. And worse, he didn’t even know when he’d see you next, not with the way the coming weeks were packed.

He knew how this looked. He knew he messed up.

It wasn’t intentional, not really. He’d landed hours earlier than planned and thought, stupidly, that he could surprise you. One good moment carved out of a chaotic schedule. But idol life didn’t leave room for nice plans. What was supposed to be an early return to Seoul for a last-minute podcast recording turned into you discovering, through the internet, of all things, that your boyfriend had lied about when he was coming home.

That was the part that hurt the most. Not the lie itself, but the way you found out. And Jun knew better than anyone how much you hated that.

“I am so screwed,” he muttered as the stage elevator doors slid shut behind them.

“Could’ve been worse,” Minghao replied calmly.

Jun let out a helpless breath and leaned back against the metal rail. “She’s not even gonna talk to me after this,” he said. “It’s so fucking stupid.” His eyes fell shut like that might make it disappear.

“All you’re doing right now is making it worse,” Minghao said, eyes still on the script in his hands. “Your mood isn’t gonna magically fix itself like this. And you’ve still got a whole concert to get through.”

“I know, but it feels like I made her think I don’t care,” Jun said quietly, fingers fidgeting with the mic. “Do you know how much it hurt when I called her after filming and it went straight to voicemail?” His voice wavered despite himself. “Or when I got here and the driver told me she refused the pickup and told them to leave without her?”

For the first time, Minghao glanced up at him. “Apologize later,” he said simply. “Focus now.”

The elevator jolted, began its ascent, and suddenly the arena exploded, screams, light, sound crashing over him all at once. The world demanded everything from him, whether he was ready or not.

Time stretched painfully thin. Each song dragged, each transition felt heavier than the last. It was like the universe knew exactly what he was waiting for and decided to be cruel about it.

When the concert finally ended, Jun had never moved faster in his life.

He grabbed his phone the second he was allowed to, heart pounding as he unlocked it. Part of him expected the notification bar to be empty, just like when he’d left it hours ago. No messages. No calls. Nothing.

The other part of him, stupidly hopeful, prayed for anything.

His breath caught when he saw it.

A video. From you.

It was a short clip of him onstage earlier, lights blazing behind him, a small pink heart added in the corner. His chest tightened so hard it almost hurt. He didn’t think, he just called you immediately.

It rang twice.

“Hello?” Your voice cut through the backstage noise, soft and familiar, and it nearly broke him.

“I’m so sorry,” Jun rushed out. “Y/n, I swear I’m the stupidest person on the planet, I’m so sorry, I can’t even…”

“Hey. Hey,” you interrupted gently, firm in that way you always were. “Breathe. You’re tripping over your own words.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” he said, resting his forehead against the cold, damp wall. “I thought I could surprise you, pick you up after filming. Everything ran over schedule, and I couldn’t get to you. I should’ve told you.”

“It was stupid,” you said quietly.

The silence that followed pressed down on him, heavy and unmistakable.

“I know,” he whispered, fingers tightening around his phone. “I’m really sorry. I wish I’d told you. Thank you for coming. I really wanted to see you.”

“I left early,” you said. He could hear the TV murmuring in the background. “Didn’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“I really thought you wouldn’t,” he admitted.

There was a pause, then your voice softened.

“Come home, Jun.”

The tension in his chest finally loosened, warmth flooding in like relief he hadn’t dared to expect.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said with a deep, shaky sigh.

5️⃣ Hoshi:

“If it’s so freaking stupid, then why did you even come?” Hoshi’s voice slices through the waiting room, sharp enough to make the air stand still.

You’re sitting on one of those stiff wooden chairs, laptop open on your knees, the click-clack of backstage chaos muted now that the room has gone quiet. Hoshi stands by the door, already half in his sound-check outfit, hand gripping the handle like he’s holding himself back from saying more.

“Babe…” you whisper, pushing yourself up from the chair.

“No. Don’t ‘babe’ me.” His jaw tightens as he pulls the thin door halfway open. “I have a concert to finish. This is my job, Y/N.”

“I know,” you say, softer than intended, but he’s already put three long strides and a wall between you.

“No, you clearly don’t.” He lets out a dry laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing my head in about how annoying it is that you have to sit in ‘stupid random rooms’ while I’m freezing my ass off on stage.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply. He slips out, letting the door close behind him, taking every bit of warmth with him.

You blink, and suddenly the argument feels like it had exploded out of nowhere. Twenty minutes ago you were just venting, complaining about how your degree is eating every spare second and how you’re stuck studying anywhere you can. You weren’t attacking him. You were tired and overwhelmed, and he was the one person you thought you could unload on.

But you hadn’t read the room. You knew he was stressed today, that’s why you’d come early, laptop and textbooks in tow. What you didn’t account for was how sensitive Soonyoung becomes when he’s anxious about a performance. One stray spark, and everything went up in flames.

Three hours pass before you admit he isn’t coming back. Not between rehearsals. Not between sets. Not even just to peek in. So you gather your things and slip out quietly to find a better spot before the concert starts.

Meanwhile, thirty minutes later, Hoshi finally comes back to his senses. He returns expecting you there, hunched over your laptop, hair falling in your face, looking up at him with that soft smile you always give him, even when you’re exhausted.

Instead, he finds an empty room. An empty chair. An empty space where you should be.

His stomach drops straight to the floor.

He realizes, fully and painfully, that he snapped at you for nothing. The epiphany had already hit halfway through sound check, but now the guilt settles in like ice. And if performing a four-hour show is hard while stressed, try doing it with a knot of shame sitting permanently in your throat.

Hoshi scans the crowd at least fifteen times during the concert. He double-checks the VIP box so often the cameras probably think he’s doing a bit. Each time he doesn’t find even the tiniest glimpse of you, another crack forms in his chest.

By the time the final encore ends and he steps off the backstage elevator, he’s running on autopilot. Sweat clings to him, clothes sticking to chilled skin. His heart is hammering, not from the choreography, but from dread.

The moment he pushes through the rolling door into the main hallway, his thoughts are racing at a hundred kilometers per hour, until his eyes land on you.

You’re standing there with his mother, laughing over something on your phone, face lit up with the kind of smile he’d convinced himself he’d ruined for the night.

“Thank God,” he breathes, barely audible, before he breaks into a full jog.

You don’t even have time to look up. Suddenly, you’re wrapped in a tight, sweaty embrace, pulled flush against him as he buries his face on top of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, voice cracking, kissing your hair again and again, quick, frantic, apologetic. “I was so rude. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Babe, we’re okay,” you mumble into his chest, voice muffled by his damp shirt.

“Where were you?” he asks, loosening the hug just enough to see you but not enough to actually let go.

“I was in the box with your parents.” You cup his freezing cheeks with your warm hands. “God, Soonyoung, you’re ice cold.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” he says dramatically, lower lip jutting out. “I thought I’d died of a broken heart.”

“Actually,” you start, reaching for your phone, “my resident doctor said that’s…”

“Just shut up, idiot,” he laughs, lifting your chin with one cold hand and kissing you before you can finish.

6️⃣ Wonwoo:

You and Wonwoo had always fought the same way, your temper flaring fast and loud, his patience trying to match your pace, always half a step behind. It usually ended with you going quiet, a self-imposed silence you stretched for as long as you could manage. You knew it was childish. You knew it bordered on unfair. Sometimes it even left you wondering if you asked too much of his patience, if taking up that much emotional space made you difficult to love.

But this time, this time, it really was his fault. And you were allowed to be mad.

It was 7 p.m., halfway through their Seoul concert, and you were seated in the VIP box with family members and a few partners of the other members. The bass thumped through the stadium, the cheers rising and falling like waves, but you barely registered any of it. You stayed rooted to your chair, jaw tight, tongue pressing firmly into the inside of your cheek as if holding everything back physically might keep you from unravelling emotionally.

Two hours earlier, Wonwoo had said it, that he found it a bit pathetic that you still got so nervous. After all these years together, after countless shared meals and backstage hellos with the other girlfriends, you still hovered near him, still needed his presence as an anchor. You knew his words hadn’t come from malice. His intentions were clumsy, not cruel. But stress turned him blunt to the point of carelessness, and you had taken the full impact of that, again.

Across the stadium, Wonwoo stood under blinding lights, smiling wide as he moved in sync with the rest of the members. To anyone watching, he looked carefree, electric, fully in his element. But even as he laughed into the mic, he knew what waited for him once the music stopped. An apology. One he owed you badly.

“Why are you looking like that?” Cheol murmured through a smile, leaning in close enough that the audience wouldn’t notice.

“Not the moment,” Wonwoo muttered back, careful with his lips. He was painfully aware of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of eyes on them.

“Then stop acting like something’s wrong,” Cheol replied, patting his back before dancing off to the other side of the stage like nothing had happened.

By the time they reached their final goodbye, you weren’t in the VIP box anymore. You were backstage now, standing beside his dad and brother, bouquet in hand as tradition dictated. Your chest felt tight, like anticipation and frustration were tangled together somewhere beneath your ribs.

Less than five minutes later, he appeared.

Sweat clung to him, his hair falling messily onto his forehead, glasses slightly fogged from the sudden shift in temperature. He looked exactly like he always did after a show, exhausted, glowing, adrenaline still humming under his skin.

You expected the routine. A hug for his dad. Mingyu bursting in with a loud joke. A long, solid embrace with his brother. And then you, a quick kiss, familiar and grounding.

But he changed direction at the last second.

Before you could even process it, his arms were around your torso, still moving forward, making you stumble back a step or two with him. He looked down at you, eyes soft, almost apologetic, the kind of look you knew too well.

“I was rude,” he said quietly.

You scoffed under your breath. “Oh. So now you’re self-aware?”

“Stress got the best of me,” he replied, calm, steady. No defensiveness this time.

“Not an excuse,” you shot back, arms still hanging stiffly at your sides.

“I know.” His voice softened further. “But you know I love having you around. I call you when I’m at the grocery store, even when you’re literally waiting for me in bed.” He laughed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That was really dumb of me to say.”

He reached up, gently brushing your bangs behind your ear, his touch tentative, as if he was giving you room to pull away.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you said, even as you felt the walls you’d built starting to crumble, piece by piece.

“Come on,” he murmured, dipping his head slightly until his nose brushed yours. “I missed you.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, a lazy smile betraying you as his breath warmed your lips. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Mmm,” was all he answered before his lips finally met yours, slow, apologetic, and familiar. You tasted salt from his sweat, warmth from his skin, and the last traces of the pettiness that had filled the space between you just hours ago, dissolving completely.

7️⃣ Woozi:

Two stubborn people with matching egos and a tendency to misfire in communication are a recipe for unnecessary tension. Anyone who’s seen you and Woozi argue would say the same: it starts small, escalates fast, and somehow lasts way longer than it ever needed to.

Woozi has always been the type who can feel an argument brewing before you even open your mouth, someone who already knows the solution before the problem fully forms. He loves you with a kind of quiet certainty that threads through every part of his life.

But the past two weeks had stretched both of you thin. Him on tour across three time zones, you flying out for a conference, barely catching each other awake. Silence settled where the comfort used to be. And then that Dispatch article, him at dinner with a female co-star, which he had mentioned in passing, but you hadn’t truly heard because you were both exhausted. You blocked him in a moment of pride and irritation, and by the time he tried reaching out, he didn’t have the energy to push harder. Not then. Not while performing, traveling, barely sleeping.

Now it was the night of their encore show in Seoul. He knew you’d flown home last night, he saw the ring camera notification light up, and it gnawed at him that you still hadn’t unblocked him. He’d tried twice today to stop by your apartment, but both times, you weren’t home. The not knowing was eating him alive.

“If it makes you feel better…” Dino says around a mouthful of egg sandwich, “my girlfriend tried calling her too. Went straight to voicemail.”

“Yeah, she turned her phone off,” Woozi mutters, exhaling hard as he scrolls through Instagram without really seeing anything.

“I think this is the longest I’ve seen you two go without talking,” Joshua adds, sliding behind him and squeezing his shoulders in sympathy.

“Petty ass fight,” Woozi mumbles, eyes glued to his screen as if he stared long enough, you’d appear.

“Petty ass fight?”

Your voice cuts clean through the room. The whole group freezes, and Jihoon’s head snaps around so fast it looks painful.

There you stand, cold from the outside, warmer from anger, looking directly at him. And he can’t decide if he wants to run to you or brace for an explosion.

“That’s what you tell them?” you continue, stepping inside the threshold of the dressing room. “That we’re fighting because of some petty argument? Not because you went to dinner with another woman while I was out of town?”

Silence folds over the room like a blanket no one asked for.

Jihoon swallows. Hard. “Let’s not do this here,” he says quietly, quiet but firm, and heads toward the hallway. You follow, footsteps sharp against the concrete.

The makeshift corridor beneath the stage is freezing, and every breath you take comes out visible. Jihoon stands a few feet away, hands balled in his pockets, eyes never leaving you.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

“Why did you stop by my place?” Your voice wavers, but your stare doesn’t. “My neighbours saw you there. Twice.”

“You’re my girlfriend, for fuck’s sake, Y/N.” He lets out a humourless laugh. “You blocked me like we’re in high school.”

“You went out to dinner with another woman, and I had to learn about it through Dispatch.” You step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest once, sharp, accusing. “That makes me feel like you’re treating us like some high school fling.”

Jihoon inhales, eyes flicking down for a moment. He knows this is the worst possible moment, right before a concert, right after weeks apart. He also knows he loves you more than he loves being right.

So he does the one thing guaranteed to break the spiral.

“You’re embarrassing yourself right now,” he murmurs, not cruel, just honest, and he gently removes his hands from his pockets, reaching for your wrists. One by one, he lifts your hands and places them around his waist, holding them there. Holding you there.

The closeness steals the fight right out of the air. His eyes roam your face like he’s relearning it, and suddenly you feel both exposed and wrapped up in something warm.

“You know I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead dipping toward yours, voice barely more than breath. “So don’t second-guess it again.”

He presses a soft kiss onto your cold lips, lingering.