Rec:ateez - Tumblr Posts

anythingrelatingtojinyoung

2 years ago

This is one of the best series ever.

mists of celeste masterlist

𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖆𝖚!𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖟

pairing: ??? x fem reader; side mxm pairings throughout genre: scifi/space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut, fluff rating: M/18+ warnings: language, violence, fighting, guns and weaponry, blood, injuries, talk of past trauma, smut, depictions of anxiety depression and ptsd summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you. current length: 415,556 words [☉] ongoing

note: it is advised that you read the interim chapters after completing all the chapters in the act rather than reading them based off number order. they are based around the relationships between the crew and interactions they share. also note that some of the interim chapters and perhaps regular chapters will contain mxm content. if you do not enjoy reading this content, then i advise you to avoid the series.

classified documents

teaser one | class system | playlist | references | planet guides

character directories

nightingale | papillon de la mort

act one - primitia (beginnings) - words: 49,124

interim chapters: chapter 0.5 | chapter 3.5 | chapter 10.5

act two - iustitia (justice) - words: 56,168

interim chapters: chapter 17.5 | chapter 18.5

act three - consectatio acervi (pursuit of treasure) - words: 47,441

interim chapters: chapter 22.5 | chapter 23.5

act four - renovamen bestia (rebirth of a beast) - words: 68,065

interim chapters: chapter 26.5 | chapter 33.5

act five - cinis cinerem (ashes to ashes) - words: 141,616

interim chapters: chapter 37.5 | chapter 40.5 | chapter 41.5

act six - magis denudantis iudicia occulta (unveiling secrets) - words: 112,049

interim chapters: chapter 44.5 | chapter 47.5

act seven - contritus (crushed by guilt) - words: -

interim chapters: chapter 49.5 (hongjoong) | chapter 51.5 (san)

Tags :

rec:ateez space pirate au

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

2 years ago

Such a great series!

♡ into the aurora | series masterlist.

summary: you didn’t expect to run into choi san outside of the venue, especially when your phone was dead and you were stranded in a random city. a kind offer for a phone charger turns into so much more, and you end up falling into a relationship with all eight members of ateez.

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, eventual smut

warnings: handled on a chapter by chapter basis, any cw/tw will be clearly identified. if any need to be added, please contact me directly and I will update accordingly!

current word count: 208.6K

✶ one ✶ two ✶ three ✶ four ✶ five ✶ six ✶ seven ✶ eight ✶ nine ✶ ten ✶ eleven ✶ twelve ✶ thirteen ✶ fourteen ✶ fifteen ✶ sixteen ✶ seventeen ✶ eighteen ✶ nineteen ✶ twenty ✶ twenty-one ✶ twenty-two ✶ twenty-three ✶ twenty-four ✶ twenty-five ✶ twenty-six ✶ twenty-seven ✶ twenty-eight ✶ twenty-nine ✶ thirty ✶ thirty-one ✶ thirty-two ✶ thirty-three ✶ thirty-four ✶thirty-five ✶

please note, there will be a sequel! i'm taking a bit of a break before working on that, but new aurora content will be posted in 2023~!

if you prefer to read on AO3, you can find that here

my fic masterlist can be found here!

Tags :

rec:ateez

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

2 years ago

ATEEZ Recs

A- Angst, S-Smut F-Fluff

Mists of Celeste by Hongism AF

Into the Aurora by Honeyhotteoks ASF

The Answer by berryunho AS

The Essence of Youth is Summers with You by eightmakesonebraincell AF

Kim Hongjoong

Park Seonghwa

Jeong Yunho

Project Make You Love Me by hwaslayer ASF

Kang Yeosang

Lessons in Intimacy by Honeyhotteoks S

Choi San

Back to you by Ateezmakemeweep ASF

Oh He’s Good by Yoongiseesawmp3 S

Song Mingi

Jung Wooyoung

Good Lil Boy by sorryimananti-romantic ASF

Choi Jongho

No Take Backs by anyamaris S

Tags :

rec:ateez

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

2 years ago

back to you masterlist

badboy!san

a part of you wishes that you listened to wooyoung more carefully when he first warned you about his roommate.

that you really sat down and considered what your best friend of six years was telling you, so warningly and cautiously, almost with a preconceived look of fear and sympathy in his eyes.

like he knew, in just a matter of months, you’d be completely ruined and destroyed by the first boy you’d ever been with.

“whatever you do, y/n, please, just stay away from choi san, okay?” wooyoung begged quietly, his tone the most serious and soft spoken you’d heard in your life from him.

“you have to promise me.”

but you heard the words and pushed them off carelessly, promised him with a roll of your eyes and a scoff that followed that of course, if he really wants, you’d stay away from choi san.

❥ part 1

❥ part 2

❥ part 3

❥ part 4

❥ part 5

❥ part 6

❥ part 7

❥ part 8

❥ part 9

❥ part 10

❥ part 11

❥ part 12

status: complete

playlist (thank you ❤️‍🔥 anon): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gkBWfsydZc5v12OtdWXyE?si=VLCLqVWGTq-KpJErQcWi9A

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @baekhvuns @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @nlost21 @cherryeonii @hwaven @lost-midnight-flower @toothlessshiber @utopiakys @seonghwanotes

couldn’t tag: @harry-the-pottypus @marksflvr @inkigayeo @hyunjeansuniverse

Tags :

rec:ateez choi san

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

1 year ago

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page.

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content.

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath.

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it.

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face.

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you.

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today.

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more.

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page.

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess.

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative.

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry.

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through.

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt.

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs.

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already.

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson.

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement.

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’.

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him.

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,”

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat.

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,”

Your breath comes a little more quickly.

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,”

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him.

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?”

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand.

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,”

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already.

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling.

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?”

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait.

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?”

You smile again.

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?”

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot.

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.”

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open.

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,”

Your chest thumps hard.

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.”

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention.

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?”

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady.

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen.

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.”

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions.

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?”

Fuck.

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,”

“Fuck,” You whisper.

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,”

You’re nodding again.

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.”

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs.

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due.

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,”

Your legs spread a little wider.

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants.

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing.

You love him like this.

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,”

You pull it back reluctantly.

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,”

You comply immediately.

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,”

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone.

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,”

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear.

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,”

Your breath catches.

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,”

A moan bubbles up out of you.

“Hands off.”

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind.

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,”

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next.

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,”

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause.

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,”

You follow his instructions.

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,”

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot.

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?”

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting.

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest.

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,”

You don’t have to be told twice.

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,”

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to.

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,”

Pleasure rocks in your gut.

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,”

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it.

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,”

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling.

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?”

Pressure drops in your belly.

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,”

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back.

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.”

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful.

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you.

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,”

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can.

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,”

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,”

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel.

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,”

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere.

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,”

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot.

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,”

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over.

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,”

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you.

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes.

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,”

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you.

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.”

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you.

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,”

You blush again.

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,”

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling.

You are so, so fucked.

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat.

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post.

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company.

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit.

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day.

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five?

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall.

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries.

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention.

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now.

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone.

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here.

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning.

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering.

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby?

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found.

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?”

You’re frozen.

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows.

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,”

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,”

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks.

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?”

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,”

“Iced or hot?” He asks.

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me?

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,”

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,”

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed.

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest.

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line.

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,”

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?”

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,”

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head, “No, first time,”

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head.

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,”

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,”

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?”

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,”

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer.

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,”

Blush creeps up your neck.

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head.

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.”

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?”

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up.

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,”

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,”

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,”

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age.

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella.

“Seven,”

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,” You nod.

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,”

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,”

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.”

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,”

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,”

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!”

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,”

“See you again,”

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer.

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account.

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual.

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home.

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening.

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos.

He’s lovely.

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something.

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table.

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?”

“The train,” You glance outside.

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,”

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,”

“Oh,”

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?”

Flirting, then.

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?”

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,”

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block.

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits.

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles.

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns.

Do you tell him? Do you lie?

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t.

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking.

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts.

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.”

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?”

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes.

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,”

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?”

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,”

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,”

“Recognized me?”

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,”

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,”

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down.

It was so, so nice while it lasted.

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,”

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,”

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,”

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,”

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire.

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch.

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,”

“Undrinkable?” You blink.

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,”

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?”

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,”

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait.

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you.

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,”

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly.

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?”

“No,” You tell him firmly.

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you.

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,”

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,”

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,”

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.”

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you.

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,”

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,”

“Oh,” You soften.

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious.

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,”

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,”

“Right,” You murmur.

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,”

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting.

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.”

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking.

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,”

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,”

You wait, your stomach in knots.

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks.

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,”

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.”

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm.

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,”

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues.

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,”

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,”

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.”

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes.

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,”

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening.

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,”

A small smile appears on his lips.

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,”

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,”

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?”

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,”

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,”

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?”

You nod again.

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?”

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much.

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.”

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,”

You nod.

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him.

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,”

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words.

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.”

He nods once, his shoulders tense again.

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,”

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks.

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,”

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.”

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.”

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks.

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,”

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?”

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,”

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe.

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday.

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air.

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?”

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,”

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.”

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again.

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?”

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too.

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,”

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,”

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him.

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,”

“Right,” You blush darker.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?”

You nod quickly.

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.”

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time.

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.”

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs.

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,”

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,”

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?”

You nod.

“And the roleplay?” He asks.

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,”

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips.

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,”

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?”

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,”

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater.

“Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,”

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan.

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,”

The button opens.

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,”

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?”

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons.

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead.

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,”

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,”

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly.

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,”

You nod, “So good,”

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,”

You’re close.

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,”

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right.

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,”

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,”

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,”

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,”

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips.

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,”

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,”

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming.

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,”

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple.

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,”

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge.

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,”

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move.

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,”

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise.

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,”

You shiver, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,”

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile.

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,”

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes.

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,”

“So come inside me,” You smile.

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,”

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,”

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,”

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,”

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,”

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions.

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?”

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,”

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh.

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,”

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?”

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit.

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands.

“Yes,” You answer quickly.

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,”

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,”

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real.

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real.

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?”

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers.

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,”

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble.

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body.

“Soon,” He promises.

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit.

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,”

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,”

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,”

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,”

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something.

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor.

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,”

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,”

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,”

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,”

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight.

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks.

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,”

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath.

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,”

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,”

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,”

“It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,”

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair.

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,”

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,”

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,”

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,”

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up.

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,”

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes.

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss.

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,”

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,”

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss.

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,”

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs.

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you.

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,”

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?”

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,”

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs.

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you.

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants.

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?”

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet.

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly.

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he.

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,”

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed.

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,”

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him.

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,”

You nod.

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,”

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire.

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs.

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you.

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,”

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,”

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open.

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust.

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress.

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low.

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you.

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,”

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins.

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?”

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,”

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,”

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him.

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?”

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,”

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,”

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll.

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,”

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer.

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?”

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together.

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,”

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan.

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,”

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin.

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself.

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,”

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,”

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively.

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you.

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side.

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?”

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion.

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you.

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,”

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,”

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly.

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little.

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock.

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,”

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest.

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,”

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,”

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,”

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,”

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now.

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,”

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,”

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,”

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises.

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,”

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips.

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,”

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet.

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed.

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble.

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,”

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good.

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours.

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,”

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,”

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly.

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,”

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling.

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,”

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge.

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock.

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?”

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,”

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest.

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,”

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together.

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees.

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment.

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open.

“Hey,” He murmurs.

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,”

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you.

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?”

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,”

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise.

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,”

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,”

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?”

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones.

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water.

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam.

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you.

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all.

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip.

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap.

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,”

You look up from the rippling water.

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks.

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,”

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.”

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand.

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.”

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together.

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?”

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little.

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,”

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,”

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back.

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,”

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly.

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,”

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,”

“You like me,” You peck his lips.

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,”

Tags :

rec:ateez kang yeosang camboy au

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

1 year ago

oh he’s good - san (m)

part of the church boy series.

summary: san, a non-believer, has one of the best voices in the church choir, and maybe one of the best voices in the world. fresh off a break up, you’re not looking for anything serious, and he isn’t either… but someone definitely falls faster and harder than they should.

word count: 11.4k (i am so sorry)

warnings: smut!!! some talk abt god n stuff. alcohol use. swearing?

Keep reading

Tags :

rec:ateez choi san churchboyau

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

1 year ago

THE ANSWER: Masterlist

Life is great until your best friend goes missing your senior year of university, leaving little more than an apology and goodbye. Months later, you’re determined to find out what happened to him and discover a situation much more complicated than you would have ever anticipated. as in Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers 'sect.'

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

pairings: ateez x fem reader, song mingi x fem reader, choi san x fem reader, kim hongjoong x fem reader, others throughout (very slowburn lol) genre: cult au, thriller, mostly angsty situations warnings: for mature audiences, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, drugs & alcohol, heavy religious themes, abusive/toxic relationships, literally none of the ateez members are portrayed as good people, still a WIP -> pls read tags on AO3 for in depth warnings!!! current wc: 193,203 taglist

tumblr masterlist:

Keep reading

Tags :

rec:ateez angst cult au

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

1 year ago

project: make you love me (jyh) | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—general warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, unprotected/protected sex, alcohol consumption, party/club scenes - additional warnings will be posted for each chapter.

—release: july ‘23

note: thank you to my baby @persphonesorchid for the beautiful banner and for being my hype woman always!!

♣︎ table of contents | spotify playlist ;

intro: tonight and other nights

one: what did you think?

two: think outside the box

three: whose jacket are you wearing?

four: matcha mochi waffles & omurice

five: another man’s come up

six: the moon

seven: a single rose

eight: safe

nine: her

ten: do right by you

eleven: chasing the sunrise

twelve: santa’s wonderland

thirteen: special girl, real good girl

⇢ 13.5: below 0

fourteen: too little, too late

fifteen: odds & ends

sixteen: if you knew better, you’d do better

seventeen: with you

eighteen: winner

nineteen (final): in the end

♣︎ drabbles

favorite things

tease to please

Tags :

rec:ateez jeong yunho college au

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anythingrelatingtojinyoung

11 months ago

No Take Backs

Word Count-3738

Summary- Staying with your brother and his best friend and roommate, you find yourself rediscovering some old feelings for your childhood friend.

Pairing- Brother's BFF!Jongho x Fem!Reader

Trope- Brother's bff to lovers AU

Warnings- Vulgarity, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), MINORS DNI 18+

For all my lovely Jongho lovers, I hope you enjoy! This man deserves so much love! Especially @ssaboala 🤍💜🤍

Thank you to @cafekitsune for banners below!

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @babesindestroyland @lemonhongjoong @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @thelargefrye @sanjoongie @kwanisms @ssaboala @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @pyeonghongrie-main

“No no, not that….Mingi….shit! NO HIT THE …damn it….the turret, Mingi….” Jongho sighs. You can’t help but stand back and cover your mouth as you watch your brother and his best friend play at their computers. You’ll never know why Jongho bothered playing with your brother. Mingi wasn’t very good, but you supposed he was fun to be around.

“I’m here.” you mumble, knowing the two were too involved to bother greeting you. Sure enough, Jongho was explaining to Mingi what he should have done and of course ... .Mingi was explaining how he did actually do the thing that you knew very well he didn’t. Whatever it was….you didn’t pay much attention to the games they played.

Tossing your bag on the couch and shaking your head, you tuck your spare key into your pocket. Jongho and Mingi had moved in together after high school and they’d been roommates ever since. Now that you’d move back to town for the summer, you were going to crash here since they had the extra room.

You weren’t sure what that was going to mean for the two of them, or how well you’d sleep with the two of them around. Jongho was fairly respectful, he always had been when you’d been growing up, but Mingi tended to get loud when he was playing games. Smiling at their antics you watch them for a few moments before you grab your bag and head into the guest room.

A bit later after putting your few things away, tossing on some sweats and a tank top, you head back out. It had been quiet and you notice just Jongho sitting at the computer with his headset on. Wondering where your brother had gone, you walk up next to your long time friend.

Smiling as he is so into what he’s doing that you can’t help yourself, you lean down and blow on the back of his neck. The high pitched yell that escapes him has you laughing like a moron as he spins, pulling the headset down. His eyes are huge before he notices you and he shakes his head.

“Y-...Y/n??” he stutters, his cheeks turning pink. Oh my god, he’s even more adorable than ever, you think, smiling. Pinching his cheek, you lean down close to him. “Did I scare you?” you ask, grinning and he pushes his chair back, a scowl coming over his face. “What the hell, when did you get here?” he asks, rubbing his neck. You can’t help but notice the tinge of red on his neck too and smirk. He was still so easy to tease.

“I’ve been here since you were explaining to my moron of a brother what to do with some kind of turret thing.” you say and he just looks at you, then shakes his head. “Why do you still play with him?” you ask and he just sighs. “I ask myself that all the time, but here I am.” You just smile knowingly and pet his hair. “My poor teddy bear.” you say pouting and he brushes your hand away. “Cut it out, we’re too old for that.” he says but you can’t help but notice the little twitch of a smile.

“Aww….fine then, I’ll just ignore you like every other boring guy. I’ll go find another cuddly bear to -” Coughing, he stands up, taking your hand and putting it back on his head. “Fine fine, I’ll be your bear.” he sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Yay!” you say, clapping. He gives you his adorable gummy smile and you can’t help but feel the tiny twinge of a long forgotten crush creep up. Shaking your head, you just brush it off and make your way into the kitchen. “I bet you two haven’t eaten anything but take out and ramen for awhile huh?” you ask and he makes his way over to the small area, sitting on a stool to watch you pick through their supplies.

“You know us so well. Mingi hasn’t shut up about wanting your cooking again though. I can’t say that I disagree either.” He smiles again and you lean over to pinch his cheek. “Well I’ve missed cooking for you guys.” Frowning, you pull open a drawer and quickly grab a notepad and pen, starting a list.

“UNFORTUNATELY, I will have to go shopping for stuff, since you guys have almost nothing but junk.” you busy yourself making the list and he just watches you, making chit chat. Mingi comes barreling back in the door and grabs something off the table. “OH! HEY Y/N! BE BACK-” he yells, then runs back out.

“Ooookay, weirdo.” you say, just shaking your head and returning to the list. “Not going to even ask.” you mutter. “Ok! Me too, I’ll be back in a bit.” you say, going to grab your bag and shoes. “I’ll come with you. I can help carry everything back with you.” he offers and you smile, nodding. “Thanks, you’re always so sweet and reliable. Can I just clone you?” you ask and he smiles at you.

You have an uneventful shopping trip and true to his word, Jongho carries everything back, not even letting you carry a light bag. “Seriously, are you trying to impress me, sir?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He grins and leans over to you. “Why? Is it working?” he asks slyly and you can’t help but feel your heart skip for just a split second. “Hmm…it may be …” you say, returning his sly smirk.

Clearing his throat, you both make your way into the dark apartment. “What the hell…” Jongho says, then sets everything down. As you busy yourself putting things away, Jongho pulls out his phone. “Idiot. He forgot he had to work overnight tonight. No wonder.” he snorts and you burst out into laughter.

“He still hasn’t been able to figure out his alarm on his phone?” you ask and Jongho shakes his head. “I’ve tried….even when I do it for him, he loses his phone. You know how it is.” You just nod, starting to prep veggies. “Oh I do…I do..” you smile. Jongho comes to join you, listening to directions as you tell him how to cut things.

“You’re still so damned good at everything, aren’t you? Doesn’t it get annoying?” you ask, laughing. He just smiles down at you, and you can’t help but notice how small you feel compared to him. “There’s maybe a few things I’ve not mastered yet. But not many.” he says, and from anyone else it would sound cocky. But you’ve known him long enough to know the truth…he really was just good at everything he did. “Somehow I imagine if you truly wanted to do them, you’d do them well.” you mutter, snorting. He just shakes his head at you as you continue to cook.

Once everything was done and you’d both eaten, you decide to go change into some pjs. When you come back out you notice he is just watching something on his computer. “Hey…if you’re busy I can-” “Nope!” he says, pulling off his headset and getting up. “Want to watch a movie or something?” he asks and you just shrug, going to flop onto the couch.

“Sure, I don’t know anything I want to see though…” you say and he sits next to you. “Ok, we can just browse..” he says, flipping through some apps to find something. “Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been?” you suggest, turning towards him, pulling your leg under yourself. He smiles, glancing over at you.

“How is the singing thing going? You really need to do something with that gorgeous voice of yours.” You say, letting your head fall to the side and admiring him. He glances at you again, noticing that you’re staring. “Uh…yeah well, I’m still doing some training stuff…it’s still…Why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been up to? What’s new?” he asks and you smirk, knowing he hated talking about himself.

“Hmm…nothing new. School is fine, one more semester then I should be back permanently unless you know, something incredible happens.” you say. Pulling the remote from his hand, you toss it to the side. “I don’t want to watch anything. I did have….a weird question for you.” you say, biting your lip. It would be odd to ask Jongho about this but…you didn’t really have anyone but the girls in your dorm back at Uni.

Talking to a guy would probably be your best bet. “I…so…” you try to start and he wrinkles his eyebrows, turning towards you, mimicking your posture to listen. “Tell me…What’s going on?” he asks and you already feel comforted. Even when you were young, Jongho was always your big teddy bear, even when you and Mingi fought, he was always on your side. His presence alone was comforting for you.

“Ok don’t tell Mingi I talked to you about this…” you say and he nods, concentrating on you. “I…sort of dated and I had some issues and I won’t get into them but like…” you trail off as his eyes darken and his lips pull down. “Dated?” he asks and you nod, scratching your neck as you look away. “Yeah…guy was kind of a jerk but like….I’m over it! Anyhow-” He cuts you off, grabbing your hand. “What do you mean?” He asks and his eyes are searching yours.

“Just uh…I don’t want to get into it!” you laugh, realizing how serious he’s being. “Probably not a good idea to mention it, sorry. I forgot it’s probably weird to think of me as anything but Mingi’s annoying little sister.” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. His gaze was not leaving you and you felt oddly vulnerable all of a sudden.

“That’s not what I was thinking, Y/n. Not at all. I was wondering if some bastard hurt you and who I was going to have to break in half.” he says, completely deadpan. You feel your stomach flip at his demeanor and you swallow, realizing your tiny crush may not have been completely squashed at all. “Jongho…I’m fine…just don’t look at me….like…that.” you whisper and he frowns, cocking his head to the side. “Like what?” he asks, confused.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, chewing your lip. “Like you want to protect me as more than your friends sister….I’ll get weird ideas…” you mutter, then you redden even more as you realize you said that out loud. Instead of laughing at you though, you’re met with silence as his gaze bores into you. You can’t help but keep looking away, growing even more confused at his stillness. Then his eyes change, like he’s come to a decision before he is grasping your hand, pulling you towards him, his mouth meeting yours.

You go completely still in shock for a split second before you throw your arms around his neck and push yourself onto him. The sudden change in your attitude has him falling backwards, scrambling to grab you and hold you as you pry his lips apart with your tongue. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips against yours. His tentative hold on your waist all of a sudden becomes a strong grip, his hands sliding around you. One hand slides up your back, his hand cradling the back of your neck. “Fuck-” he manages as he nips your bottom lip, then your hands are in his hair.

You used to have dreams of what it would be like to kiss Jongho, far back when you were teenagers. But those were little girl dreams and this was the real thing. And it was so much better than you’d ever imagined. But never once had you imagined he’d actually be the one to kiss you first. You always assumed he’d never seen you that way. But his mouth and his tongue and…certain parts pressing against you as you pressed against him were saying something else.

“Jongho-” you moan against his mouth and then he’s tearing his lips from yours, pushing himself back even as you reach for him. “Shit….Y/n…I’m sorry I-” he says but you just crawl towards him, straddling him as he lays back on the couch, his eyes wide. “No you don’t, don’t you dare….” you say, seating yourself on him so you can feel his arousal against your ass.

“Don’t you even, Choi Jongho. Don’t you dare do something like that, then turn around and try to take it back. You can’t unopen this door.” you say, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your waistband, pulling up your tank top with your other hand. You only have to bring his fingers to the flesh of your hip before he’s sitting back up, taking control as he dips his hand into your pajama bottoms. His large hand squeezes a handful of your ass as you grind against him.

“Shit…” he mutters as you run your fingers through his hair, tipping his head back as you gently pull the strands. “I want you, Choi Jongho.” you state and he closes his eyes briefly, seeming to steel himself as you wait for him to come to terms with what is about to happen. “I’m not taking no as an answ-” you start but then he’s flipping you onto your back, settling himself between your parted thighs. Your eyes go as wide as your smile as you look up at the man hovering above you.

“Oh my…” you breathe out, your eyes dancing as his stern expression brings a dampness to your panties you hadn’t expected. “Jongho…” you whisper as he dips down to take your mouth with his, propping himself up on his elbow. His other hand slips up your top, his fingertips skimming along your side and making you shiver. “I wasn’t saying no, princess…” he murmurs, kissing down your jawline. He draws back to look down at you as his hand cups your breast, your lips parting in a moan as he lightly pinches your nipple through the thin material of your bralette. “Then…what were you stopping for…?” you say, his touch bringing little pants from you.

“Coming to terms with what I’ve wanted to do for a long fucking time.” he says and your eyes fly open as he yanks your top up, exposing your tits so he can admire you. “Fuck…you’re so sexy…” he murmurs, then he’s taking your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around on it. “You’ve- oh my god-” “Shhh, talk later….my mouth is full…” he mutters between moving to your other breast, sucking that nipple into his mouth. You raise your hips a bit, trying to get him closer, wanting to feel him against you.

“Patience, princess…” he says and you can’t help but smirk at the cute nickname he’d given you when you were younger. You tug at his top and he sits up to help you remove it. You admire his chest, always hidden under so much clothing but you knew he was athletic and it showed. You run your hands down his bare torso and he hisses as you get to his pants. “Jongho…” you moan out, licking your lips.

He just watches as you unbutton, then unzip his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers. Your eyes light up as his thick, rigid cock is freed, standing big and proud in front of you. Unable to stop yourself, you sit up enough to take just the head of his cock into your mouth, moaning softly as you taste the saltiness of his precum wet your tongue. His hand buries itself into your hair as you roll your tongue around, mimicking what he’d done to your nipple as you look up at him.

The sight of you with your mouth on him, your top yanked up and your tits exposed has him groaning loudly, gasping as you wrap your hand around him to stroke. You cup his balls in your other hand and as you watch him and slowly take him until he is hitting the back of your throat, he has to pull you off with a small cry.

“Stop…fuck…” he whispers, standing up and yanking you up with him. He pulls off your top and bralette, tossing them, then he’s yanking down your pajama bottoms, kicking his own pants off in the process. Then he’s backing you up against the wall. “Tell me now, if this is ok. I want to hear you say again that you want this. I need to make sure…” he is growling out and there’s nothing in the world that would make you say anything but, “Yes, fuck yes, I need you inside of me right n-” you are pawing at him, as he lifts you and presses your back into the wall. Your legs wrap around him as he cuts you off with his tongue, delving into your mouth.

He holds you effortlessly as he slips his hand between you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds, soaked with need for him. “Oh my god…” he moans and you yank his hair. “Stop playing and fuck me.” you demand, biting his lip. He just nods, hoisting you up a bit, his hand leaving your drenched core to guide his thick cock against you, slipping back and forth across your slick to tease you. “Jongho!!!!” you cry as you wiggle, desperate for him.

“Patience, little girl…” he whispers as he presses himself into you, stretching you with how thick he is. “God, you’re so tight….” you nod, your hands clenching his shoulders as he eases himself into you. “Fuck baby girl…talk to me…tell me you’re doing alright…” he says through clenched teeth and you nod, leaning back so you can see eachother’s faces.

“Jongho..you feel so good….please….more…more…” you moan and he drops his head onto your shoulder. “Yeah, more?” he asks and you cry out as he holds your ass and plunges the rest of the way into you. At your sharp cry, he stops momentarily, but then he starts pulling out, just to drive himself deep into you again. This draws out another yell, your voice cracking as he fills you completely, his dick so big you can feel it almost in your womb.

“MORE!” you scream, and he moans loudly into your neck as he plows into you mercilessly. The feeling of being suspended with just his body holding you up as you dizzy, your abdomen tightening quickly and you grip his hair, his shoulders as you as thrown into a spiral as your orgasm washes over you.

He leans back to watch you cum, his face completely flushed with passion as you clench around him, drenching him as he continues his steady pace. Your whimpers have him slowing, then he’s gently letting you down on your legs. “Turn around for me, gorgeous. I want to see your pretty ass while I fuck you…” You had steadied yourself for a moment but his words make you go weak again and he’s chuckling in your ear as he turns you to place your hands on the wall.

“That’s it, don’t worry I’ve got you…” he murmurs, placing his hand on your lower back to bend you forward. You look back at him and bite your lip as his hand slips down the front of you, his fingers seeking out your puffy clit as he guides himself back into you. “Jongho…oh god…you…” you try to say but he’s just humming at you, almost cooing as he buries himself completely within you. His free hand presses against your lower belly as he starts thrusting into you and he gasps. “Fuck, I call feel myself inside of you, so nice and deep..” he groans out and you can only whine as he picks up the pace.

“Jongho…so big…fuck me harder…more…” you cry out and his noises go from heavy breathing and moans to sharper cries as you talk to him. “Yeah? You like when I fuck you? You like me deep inside your pretty pussy?” he asks and you scream as his fingers rub your swollen nub faster, driving you over into another orgasm.

“Jongho! C-ccuu-mming…” you manage, gritting your teeth. You look back at him again, watching his face contort as you clamp around him and his eyes fly open, then squeeze shut as he gasps, his hips stuttering. “Ah fuc-” he chokes out but then he’s pulling out of you, and you watch as he cums all over your ass, the white ropes of cum shooting out in spurts. “Mmm cum for me….so fucking hot..” you moan, as he jerks himself off, milking every last drop. You can’t help yourself as you turn around and drop to your knees, taking him in your hand to make sure he’s completely empty. He groans, then almost squeaks as you take him in your mouth, tasting his release and savoring it as you look up at him.

“Oh my god….you’re killing me…” he moans, then has to gently pull you off as he hisses, too sensitive after cumming so hard. “Mmmm…you taste amazing…” you murmur, licking your lips and his eyes roll back as he grunts at you. “Oh man…yeah…you’re going to be the death of me.”

You stand up and he pulls you into his arms, his mouth capturing yours in a deep, intimate kiss. “Mmm…” you murmur, happy in his strong embrace. “Do me a favor, princess.” he says, pulling back to brush your hair back. “Hmm?” you manage, your lips trying to find his again. He laughs and pokes your nose. “Don’t date anyone else. You’re mine.” he says, and you open your eyes, smiling happily.

“As if that was even a thought, you big idiot.” you say and he shakes his head at you. “But…who’s gonna tell Mingi?” you say and his eyes go wide. You smirk and run towards the bathroom. “Not it! Now get in here and clean me up!” you yell and he’s immediately chasing you.

“When I catch you, it’s not cleaning up we will be doing…” he growls and your screams as he catches you echo through the empty apartment. Finally, your childhood crush had turned into a fully bloomed love for your brother’s best friend.

Tags :

rec:ateez choi jongho brothersbestfriendau

219 notes View Post

anythingrelatingtojinyoung

11 months ago

the essence of youth is summers with you

genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 38.7k

c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, hella angst, mentions of alcohol, themes of sexuality and homophobia, arguments, implied toxicity (not the boys), miscommunication, kissing, m x m interactions

synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands– choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?

a/n: i owe the biggest thank you to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for making this fic possible and for all the support she's given me in the last three months. this fic has quickly become one that i hold dearly in my heart because of how healing it has been to write, so i hope this is also healing to read ♡

it’s the first day of summer when you move to namhae.

the houses and trees flicker past and eventually peter out into vaster fields, mudflats and stretches of beach as your father drives through the countryside from yeosu to namhae. you idly wonder if summer in namhae will be like what it is back in your hometown.

it isn’t very comfortable wedged between your parents in the middle seat of the mini-truck, especially when some of the roads become unpaved as you arrive closer to the village. but you’re wearing your cute, yellow sundress with bumble bees across the front pocket, which is your big-girl dress, so you can deal with the bumpiness a little longer without complaining. the truck sounds like it’s going to give out as it groans and sputters to a stop in front of what will be your new home.

tentatively, you hop out and look around. it’s a quaint beach house that rests along a modest coastal embankment. when you walk closer to the edge of the port, you see that there’s a stretch of sand that leads to the ocean, and a little further down the coast is another beach house– your new neighbours.

the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. there’s a boy who peers out from behind his mother’s legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your mother’s dress and the adults share a laugh.

the boy’s mother gently nudges him forward. “go on, sweetie. say hi.”

with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise he’s shorter than you are. “hi, i’m san. i’m six years old and i like the sea!”

the grip you have on your mother’s dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, “i’m y/n. i’m six and i like the sea too.”

his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your mother’s dress.

“we’re going to go play at the beach,” he announces, because you’re his friend now and friends play together.

on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

“sannie!” you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.

he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, “hello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?”

you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of san’s room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so there’s not a day to be wasted.

“choi san!” you holler again, thundering up to his door. you’re about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.

the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. you’ve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and you’ve also become familiar with the way san’s arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.

“do you have your bucket?” you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.

san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. it’s purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.

you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, “race you to the beach!” using san’s chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.

“that’s cheating!” he yells after you.

you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before you’re off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of san’s footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.

the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.

your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up instead– san’s only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow down– not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.

you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, “your turn.”

you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.

you end up slowing down because it’s hard to run through water, and you’re met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.

“use your own bucket, you loser,” he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before it’s swept out by the waves.

“are you cold?” san asks whilst passing it to you.

there’s vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. “no,” you answer, “‘m not cold.” never with you.

he nods, “let me know if you do get cold, okay? i’ll grab you a jacket or something.”

“my house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,” you chuckle.

“i know, but it’s the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.” san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks he’s all grown up now that he’s in high school. but it’s not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

“okay, thank you, sannie. i’ll let you know if i so much as shiver,” you dotingly appease him.

he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, you’ve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.

“what’s wrong?” you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.

you realise he’s distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the man’s body becomes an extension of the ocean– a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagle’s wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.

san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the sea’s choreography. he declares, “i want to become a surfer.”

“what happened to becoming a dancer?” you raise an eyebrow. because if there’s one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then it’s dancing.

“becoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,” he breathes out. “just look at him. he looks so…free.”

you can see it in the way san’s eyes follow the surfer’s movements and sparkle with wonder– the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. “then try it,” you encourage, “what’s stopping you?”

san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. “nothing,” he proclaims with a growing smile. “absolutely nothing.”

san has all the summers in the world to surf. and you’ll be there with him for every single one.

you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeep– the last of his luggage to be loaded.

“i don’t get why you’re taking that with you. there’s probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.” you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you don’t really care right now. not when san is leaving and you won’t be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.

tugging on the straps once more to check that they’re secure, he chuckles, “doesn’t hurt to take it just in case.” when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, “i’ll be back every summer, yeah?”

“it won’t be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?” you grumble.

san laughs endearingly, “it’s only until i graduate.”

“or you find a job or a girlfriend and then you’ll stay in seoul forever.” you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.

“just four years–no job, no girlfriend–and then i’ll be back. i promise.” he opens his arms a little, “now, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?”

you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.

“i’ll miss you,” you whisper, because you don’t trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.

san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, “i’ll miss you more.”

you bite back the urge to respond with ‘then stay’, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. she’s discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you don’t start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you can’t afford that when this is the last time you’ll see san until next summer.

you all gather around the driver’s window that’s rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, “don’t cry, please? we can call whenever you want.”

you sniffle, “call me when you arrive?”

he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like it’s the middle of winter today.

san’s eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasn’t been able to see your reflection the last three times he’s looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then that’s between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.

you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you don’t have to hold it. “what was that?” you pull your device closer to your ear. “are you going somewhere?”

there it is again– the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, “home.”

you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, “home?”

“yeah, home,” san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. “i told you i’d see you soon, didn’t i?”

“i didn’t think you meant in five literal minutes,” you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. “oh my god, is that why you said you couldn’t facetime me?”

you can hear his answer this time– not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, no– the smooth deepness of san’s voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.

in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, he’s not alone.

if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise you’ve seen him before– both of them, actually.

on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. he’s usually in one of the university’s dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and they’ll appear behind him to say hello to you or you’ll be able to hear them in the background of the call.

quite frankly, the crusty quality of san’s front camera hardly does them justice because wow. they’re hot. and tall. they’re not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and san’s family are waiting to welcome them.

san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, “yunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.”

yunho and mingi thank san’s parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way they’re immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasn’t too tiring, you know san’s parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.

“hey, pipsqueak,” san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.

you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, “looks like you’ve been busy doing everything but growing.”

“on second thoughts, maybe i don’t really miss you.”

san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and that’s all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, you’ve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.

the rumble of san’s chest is soothing as he says, “well, i miss you. it’s good to be back home.”

you pull back a little to look up at him and god, he’s gotten so much taller. “it’s good to have you back home, choi san.”

the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, “but you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.”

“on top of the fact that san doesn’t shut up about you,” mingi jokes.

san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, “namhae! he doesn’t shut up about namhae!”

yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.

“are you two also dance majors?” you ask.

“yeah, so we share some classes together,” yunho explains. “mingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas i’m in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.”

“good thing, too,” mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the other’s shoulder. “i’ve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.”

he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be san’s. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so it’s his baby.

“are these all yours?” you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.

he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, “the guys brought theirs along too.”

mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. “you all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!”

“no, you were right. you can’t,” san chortles in embarrassment. “but there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.”

mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, “doesn’t beat the real thing, though.”

“nope, which is exactly why we’re crashing. sorry, by the way–we probably should’ve asked you whether we could come,” yunho scratches the back of his neck.

you frown, “of course you can. it’s not like i’m the town head of namhae or anything.”

“but they know we spend our summers together,” san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.

“oh,” you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, “you know what? mingi was right. you don’t shut up about me, do you.”

mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. it’s amusing to see san flustering so easily now that there’s a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friends’ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.

as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, “let’s go.”

“you know i can’t surf, san.”

he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, “not to surf, silly. let’s go get our buckets.”

your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, “buckets?”

“of course,” san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. “we’ve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.”

half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ‘namhae ninjas’ and the ‘highschool homies’. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word ‘neighbours’, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadn’t been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.

san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just don’t change, even over time.

mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.

where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.

“which one do you think looks better?”

your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunho’s pick. “this one,” she points, “the other colour palette clashes too much.”

san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that they’re discussing investment properties. in reality, you’re watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your father’s flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.

noticing the dubious frown on mingi’s face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants he’s holding. “this is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,” she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. “it matches your shirt. i think you’ll look the best in it.”

he immediately perks up and you can’t help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. it’s incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.

you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.

yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. “want to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?”

you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, “sorry, i won’t say that a-grain.”

he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacks– how could anybody say no?

you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. it’s mesmerising to watch yunho’s hands as he deftly carries out each step– the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. you’ve come to realise that yunho’s good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.

“how did you start surfing?” you wonder.

yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. “i actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,” his voice is fond. “it’s been four or five years now.”

“that’s really sweet of you.”

he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, “what about you? how come you don’t surf?”

“san roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,” you reveal. “i prefer watching, anyway.”

“maybe you just didn’t have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?”

you don’t doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when he’s soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.

you chuckle, “you’re going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, don’t you?”

“that’s true,” he hums. “but there’s always next summer…if you’d like that?”

at his words, you suddenly don’t know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, you’re interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunho’s progress. “of course you’re good at this too.”

you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within arm’s reach.

“how’s he going?”

san glances back, “he’s, uh–well. he’s trying.”

“my hardest!” mingi yells across the field.

with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.

the seedlings that mingi has planted don’t look that bad, honestly. they’re a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isn’t all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. “here, let me show you.”

you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, “they may just be plants, but they’re like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.” you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, “you know, it’s kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.”

having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle you’re all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.

your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. “yunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.”

at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. “i was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myself…give myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,” he reveals. “sometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.”

“i’m glad you had him to help you through that.”

“yeah, he’s helped me a lot,” mingi agrees. “he still does. sannie too.” as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.

“how are things at home now?” you ask.

he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. “both of them knew that i didn’t want to go back to my hometown over summer. that’s why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. it’s meant a lot to me.”

your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, “stop treating me like i’m the head of namhae. there’ll always be a place here for the both of you.”

he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. “we just know how much summers mean to you and san.”

“and meanings can always change for the better,” you counter with a smile.

mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesn’t go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at san’s admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.

“have you two just been sitting there this whole time?” yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw san’s attention.

“no?” you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, “yes.”

the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, “what are you going to do about it?”

yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.

that’s all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that it’s a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.

“yun, we can talk this out like adults,” you try to distract him.

whilst you’re struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that you’re not above begging.

“don’t come any closer! please, i’m sorry! i’m–” your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.

for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunho’s arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his pretty– but grubby– hands.

you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of san’s headlock. he rapidly taps the latter’s forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.

mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each other’s faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.

in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why san’s parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.

you hadn’t thought much of it– just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, ‘gonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD we’ll be there in about twenty’.

this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why san’s parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.

as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, you’re dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. it’s good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and you’d be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of you– having forgotten just how tall they really are– if your attention isn’t distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind san’s jeep.

either seoul has water that’s doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. you’d be lying if your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of them. you’re a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.

yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. “this is y/n,” yunho introduces. “and these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.”

you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, “and this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.”

hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, “and we keep you as our tall circus freak.”

the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.

before you can so much as take two steps, there’s a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, it’s san’s kind eyes that are gazing back at you. “here, let me do it,” he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.

left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way you’re subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.

there’s a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise it’s heavier than it looks. “what the hell is in this? weights?” you mutter to yourself.

there’s a giggle beside you, “sorry, that’s probably yeosang’s bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.”

it’s jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. “we can trade. this is much lighter.”

he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, there’s the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that it’s the short boy, hongjoong. he’s only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you he’s still easily taller than you.

“maybe you could help me hold this, too.” he’s holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern what’s in his hands.

“what is it?” you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.

except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.

as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, “san’s going to chop your hand off when he sees,” then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.

“it’s okay, i wouldn’t let san do that to you,” you reassure.

hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, “because that’d be animal abuse.”

“it’s been five minutes and you’ve already picked your side,” he laments dramatically, before nodding. “i see how you play. i like you.”

“it’s a shame i don’t,” you quip back immediately.

“fuck, did i just get rejected?”

yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, “stop digging yourself a deeper hole.”

you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. you’re definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoong’s friends have in teasing him.

you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. he’s watching the rest of the boys play ‘scissors, paper, rock’ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.

you’ve had the fleeting thought before, but now that you’re seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, you’re slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.

“do you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?” you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, it’s not him who answers you.

“aww, stop. you think we’re attractive?” of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.

immediately, the feistiness in you appears. “yeah, and i’m wondering why they made an exception for you.”

he takes on the jest easily, “god, you’re obsessed with me.”

“you’re right, i’m a little crazy for dogs,” you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of san’s chuckles from next to you.

“good thing i’d bark for you, then.”

“what the fuck, guys?” mingi interrupts, “get a room.”

at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, “hurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.”

yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for san’s room. you turn to san incredulously, “you’re fitting four people in your room?”

he shakes his head, “of course not. i’m going to sleep in haneul’s room. she’s on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.”

“she can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,” you suggest.

“oh, that’s right. your parents are in yeosu now, aren’t they?”

you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparent’s house for the meantime. they’re not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, it’ll likely be for a while.

san doesn’t tell you, but that’s part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that you’re silently struggling to adjust– even if his parents take care of you like their own daughter– so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didn’t just have to be summer.

“do you need to change into something else before we go?” he asks you.

you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that you’re wearing. you don’t mind getting them wet, but you can’t say the same about your underclothes. “yeah, i’ll quickly go and change first.”

he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, “it’s good to see you again, pipsqueak. i’ve missed you.”

you smile, “i’ve missed you more.”

even after the door closes behind you, san’s smile stays on his face. “i’ve missed you the most.”

no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.

“you cheater!” you screech when you feel san’s arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. “you said you’d give me a ten-second head start!”

his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, “i did! your little legs are just too slow.”

you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of san’s yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the older’s back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.

san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his face– revealing his abs in all of their wonder– does the complete opposite of calming you down.

you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jongho’s and…yeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.

san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.

hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosang’s attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermath– your trio absolutely drenched– and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.

at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and you’re momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.

“up for more surfing?” he grins at you. and if there’s one thing you’ve learnt over the summer, it’s that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.

jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that he’s a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.

once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surfer’s club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.

of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jongho’s softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own board– a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunho’s careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.

which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.

“you remember how to push through the waves?” jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.

“yeah, hang on,” he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what he’s telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.

“hold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,” he explains as you shift your hands forward. “the board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.”

you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.

“there’s a wave coming in we could try,” yeosang suggests.

the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesn’t increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.

“okay, ready? hold steady, steady,” jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, “and push up!”

you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the wave’s trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.

“i did it!” you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.

“you did it!” the boys respond excitedly.

jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.

“just a little more practice and you’ll be taking on the monster swells in no time,” yeosang declares. you know he’s exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.

somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. it’s san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, “we’re going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?”

“yes!” you shout back, “wait for me!”

ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming it’s san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.

“san, you left your ph–” you start, except it’s yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. it’s warm from the hours it’s spent in the sun and you can’t help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.

“here,” he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.

san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. “the ground’s pretty hot,” he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.

“wait, i forgot my wallet,” you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.

“don’t worry about it,” san reassures, “hongjoong’s buying.”

your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “yes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."

"even a double–no, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.

san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."

you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jongho’s ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, “bleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!”

the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybody’s, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.

from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he can’t help but feel like he’s going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of six– which will hopefully become the full eight next summer– and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that you’ll never feel alone.

“if only wooyoung was here, then we’d have someone to grill the meat properly,” yeosang muses as he watches jongho flip and examine the packaging of the beef. “he’s the best cook out of us.”

“trust him to be a good cook, too,” you comment.

when you had first met yeosang, jongho and hongjoong, they had told you that there were two other friends who weren’t able to make it to namhae with the rest of them this summer. one of them was wooyoung, who naturally became part of the group after attending the same dance club as yunho, mingi and san. wooyoung had then been paired up with jongho during an inter-department project between the department of film & multimedia and the department of drama, growing close to the younger and by extension, to hongjoong, a senior in jongho’s drama society.

their other friend was seonghwa, they had told you; the oldest in their group and also in the year above like hongjoong. however, seonghwa attends a completely different university along with yeosang, the both of them undertaking a degree in education at seoul national university. they share some senior classes together, as yeosang had transferred from a law degree and had some of the credit prerequisites to jump ahead. and since yeosang is a close family friend of wooyoung’s, the three of them gradually became well-acquainted with each other.

it’s a running joke that you don’t need to remember how everybody knows each other– you just need to know that wooyoung is the common factor between them all, the person who decided that all of his friends should be friends with each other. so not only is wooyoung a social butterfly, seemingly charming and witty with good looks– should the boys’ track record stay true– but apparently he’s a good cook too. some people really just have it all.

“what else do we need?” jongho asks, haphazardly placing a few packets of the meat into the shopping cart he’s pushing.

“mingi said it would be good to make smores at the end of the night,” you answer.

last summer, during the final week that mingi, yunho and san were in namhae, you had all decided to have a barbeque feast and then spend the rest of the night huddled around a small campfire on the shores of the beach. it had been one of your favourite memories, simply basking in the peaceful buzz of summer and slowing your lives down just for one night to do nothing. you had suggested turning it into a tradition, and now that the final week of this summer has arrived, you’re all at one of the few grocery stores in namhae to stock up on food, snacks and drinks for the night.

“let’s see if they have marshmallows, then,” jongho makes a move to walk away.

hongjoong suddenly interrupts the conversation, appearing with an empty trolley in front of him. “get in,” he tells you.

yeosang helpfully points out, “that sounds like something a man with a tinted white van would say,” at the same time you question, “are we even allowed to do that?”

he beams, “i like to think that until somebody tells us we’re not allowed to do something, we are allowed to do it.”

“i can think of fifteen different reasons right now why that’s terrible life advice.”

the man simply nudges your side with the end of his trolley and you half-heartedly frown, “i’m really hoping this seonghwa friend is more responsible than you are, seeing as he’s older.”

“i hate to break it to you, but seonghwa’s worse,” jongho grimaces. “maturity ages backwards in this group, unfortunately.”

at jongho’s words, you turn to look for yunho, hoping that as the next oldest down the line he can talk some sense into hongjoong. only you’re met with the sight of the overgrown man pushing his own shopping cart with a very cramped but happy mingi sitting inside.

you sense defeat when hongjoong nudges you once more. “i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you mutter to yourself as he holds it steady for you to climb into. after all, you think, what’s life without breaking a few rules?

except nothing prepares you for the absolute madness that unfolds the moment your bottom touches the cold, metal gridding of the trolley. hongjoong quite literally revs the handlebar with engine sound effects, before charging through the aisle at full speed in an apparent race against yunho and his passenger princess. you hold on to for dear life, thinking that this will be over once you reach the end of the aisle. but both racers show no signs of stopping, instead drifting with sharp cornering into the next aisle as you screech. half of you is terrified, but the other half of you is starting to seek the thrill.

“faster, joong! faster!” you goad when you can see san standing at the end of the frozen section, waving an imaginary chequered flag.

both carts rattle past him in a close match, and as opposed as you were to the idea at first, you argue passionately against the honorary referee and the rival team over who won first place. even jongho and yeosang pick a side and claim that their eyes– from three aisles over– are as trustworthy as VAR playback.

it’s no surprise when the ruckus you’re all making gets a store manager sent your way. but by some saving grace, most likely the begrudging understanding that everyone has done this exact thing at one point or another growing up, the store does not kick you out. they let you finish shopping for the supplies you need, but not without the glares of the retail workers following you and your friends regardless of which aisle you try to duck and disappear behind.

with hushed giggles and not-so-subtle elbows in each other’s sides, your group hurriedly pays and places the multitude of plastic bags back into the trolley. san and jongho take one of the trolleys each and you all walk back to the cars to load the shopping. you would think that a scolding would deter any further misbehaviour, but when you all see the relatively empty parking lot, there’s only shared smiles of deviousness and glints of mischief.

if anyone were to look at the parking lot outside the grocery store that tuesday morning, they would see a group of seven friends, clad in an eyesore disarray of sweatpants, shorts, pajama tops and slippers, pushing each other around in shopping carts like bumper cars with shrieks of joy, circling around the dusty jeep and banged-up ute that has become an enabler of their connection and happiness.

you may all be doing the very things that your older selves will look back on with exasperated smiles and disapproving head shakes in ten years. but in the moment, you are unafraid; uncaring of what others think, because you have your friends by your side. and this, you think to yourself, is the essence of youth and summer.

you wish you were older. because being older means that you’ll have graduated, and being graduated means that you won’t have to fucking study for your fucking exams. you let out a groan and drop your head onto the table, making an audible thump when your forehead misses the thick textbooks and scattered notes, and hits the solid surface instead.

“hey, you need those brain cells,” someone gently chides. haneul stands at the doorway to your bedroom, watching your misery with a fond smile.

“can’t lose what i don’t have,” you mumble back.

“take a break,” she suggests. “do you want me to get you something from the bakery?”

haneul laughs when your head immediately turns to look at her, your left cheek pressed against the table by the cheeky smile that adorns your face. she chuckles again, “got it. i’ll be back.”

you absent-mindedly listen as the lock of your front door clicks shut and then let out a deep sigh at the silence that follows. it’s been a few hours since you first sat down and started studying but it feels like you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again with no progress. pressing your forehead into the table again, you groan in frustration.

your ringtone goes off and your hand blindly fumbles around for your phone, sliding what you’re relatively sure is the answer button. “yeah?” you say into the receiver.

“someone’s a little grumpy today,” a teasing voice sounds.

“hwa?” you sit up instantly, looking at your phone properly.

it is him, not only blessing you with the deep richness of his voice but also the visual of him in a black tank top as he looks amusedly at the facetime you have answered. “are you still studying?” he asks.

you deflate a little, reminded of why you’ve been creating a crater in your table with your head for the past ten minutes. “mhm,” you hum affirmatively. “except nothing’s going into my brain anymore.”

“sounds like you need a break.”

“that’s exactly what haneul said,” you grumble, although you’re not entirely sure why you’re so opposed to their suggestions to stop studying.

“because we’re right,” he quirks his eyebrow. “what’s haneul doing at yours, anyway?”

“taking advantage of my netflix while i slave away to pass my exams. but she’s forgiven since she’s buying me snacks.”

“then take a break until she gets back and you finish eating. it’ll only be an hour, tops,” seonghwa convinces. “i’ll even set an alarm to let us know when time is up and i’ll keep you company when you study.”

you sag a little into your chair, shoulders relieving of their tension as you concede, which makes him smile sympathetically, “just a few more weeks to go until summer and then you’ll be free.”

“are you taking up summer school again?” you ask.

after san had added you and all the boys into a combined group chat, you had made friends with the two that you didn’t get to meet. you discovered seonghwa hadn’t been able to make the trip to namhae last year because he had chosen to take summer school instead. he had wanted to complete some of his degree requirements earlier in hopes of working part-time during his final year to gain practical experience. wooyoung, on the other hand, had had a portfolio due for his film class that required the majority of his summer if he wanted to complete it in time.

seonghwa grimaces at the memory, “no, not this time. it was a mistake, honestly. i burnt out so fast the first semester back that i didn’t even end up applying for any jobs.” he points a stern finger at you and warns, “don’t ever think about doing summer school.”

“trust me,” you laugh, “i have no intentions of ever doing that.”

you appreciate his advice regardless, because as immature as the other boys had made him out to be, seonghwa really does look out for all of you as the oldest of the group. and more often than not, you find yourself gravitating towards him when you need comfort or reassurance. “does that mean i’ll finally get to meet you?”

seonghwa nods, “woo as well.”

the screen of your phone suddenly splits to make room for an additional video as somebody joins the call. you hear his voice before his video even buffers. speak of the devil.

“oi! why are you all calling without me?” wooyoung complains.

contrary to the roll of your eyes, a smile makes its way across your face as you respond, “we’re literally calling from the group chat. no one’s leaving you out of anything.”

and as if his appearance is some sort of talisman, more of the boys start to join the call one by one. even hongjoong’s profile picture appears, camera off and on mute, wanting to feel included even if he’s in the middle of class. yunho and mingi pop up from behind wooyoung, so you’re guessing they’re busy practising in the studio. you wonder where san is.

someone asks you a question about how your exams are going, but you’re momentarily distracted by the buzzing notification of a text. “hang on,” you mumble, “let me just…reply to this.”

it’s one of your classmates, johnny, asking whether you’re home right now. you had accidentally slept through one of the review lectures earlier in the week and he had offered to give you a copy of his notes. from his text message, it appears he’s close by and able to drop them off now. you reply an affirmative and then click back into the video call, asking, “sorry, what were you saying?”

the drone of shared chatter about exams and the upcoming break fills the silence of your bedroom, like the fluttering breeze of a pleasant spring day. if they were not already so closely correlated to the warm, golden rays and salty spray of the summer ocean, your friends would be spring– the season of fresh air, blooming flowers and thriving vitality.

“someone looks happier. who are you talking to?” haneul emerges in your bedroom having come back from the bakery, holding a pastry box.

you didn’t even realise you were subconsciously smiling. “i’m facetiming the boys.”

she smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively and drags out her words, “i see. so who is it that you like? or is it all of them?”

“quit it!” you pretend to shove her. “want to say hi?” you turn the screen of your phone in her direction and there’s a chorus of obedient hi haneul’s as you turn up the volume.

she waves and peers at wooyoung’s video. “where’s the baby brat?”

from somewhere within the call, san yells out indignantly, “stop calling me that!” there’s a slight rustle as he walks closer to take the phone out of wooyoung’s grasp and when you peer to have a look, you can see that he’s sweaty and red-faced from finishing up a routine.

“you still respond to it, so,” haneul shrugs.

she disregards her brother’s continued complaints to drop the box onto your table along with a neatly-stapled stack of handwritten notes. “i bumped into johnny outside and he said this was for you,” she explains as you take it gratefully.

at the mention of a boy’s name, wooyoung shoves his nose towards his front camera. he rapidly asks, “who’s johnny? is he haneul’s boyfriend or what? why’s he giving you something?”

even hongjoong flicks a message into the group chat to ask, ‘who tf is jonny’.

you hold up the paper to show the boys and laugh, “he’s my classmate, guys. and he gave me notes because i missed the lecture.”

wooyoung frowns at your answer, clearly dissatisfied as he complains, “why is he giving you notes. and–what the fuck? did he hand write them? what a pretentious prick.”

you ignore him in favour of opening the pastry box to see what else haneul brought back for you. “how did you know i love these?” you exclaim.

she gives you that same, mischievous look from earlier and as she starts to exit your bedroom to leave you to your call and sweet treat, she vaguely answers, “how do you think?”

from over your phone, the others start to ask what you’ve got in the box, allowing a certain boy to easily slip unnoticed into the background. but it doesn’t take a detective to work out how– or perhaps you should say, who– told haneul about your recent cravings.

because if there’s one person who knows you the best, one person who takes notice of even the littlest of things, then it would be him.

hongjoong lightly slaps your thigh in retaliation as your laughter jostles his head that’s resting on your stomach, which only serves to make you laugh even harder. he lifts his head to grumble, “stop encouraging him, y/n. he’s going to think he’s actually funny or something.”

with a shaky exhale, you wipe a stray tear away, because you don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard in your entire life. now that you see their whole group dynamic in action with the complete eight of them, it’s like watching a live sitcom.

wooyoung looks at him with a smug expression…then proceeds to yank the older’s sock right off his foot before throwing it into oblivion. hongjoong jolts up and dives for him and they immediately tussle about on the floor of san’s living room. amidst all of the commotion, san sneakily goes for seonghwa’s socks and you’re glad that you had peeled yours off the moment you had walked through the front door because suddenly everyone’s socks are a target.

the successful harvests that are tossed away are immediately snatched up by mingi, who hurls them under the table, behind the couch and on top of the television. you think you can see one dangling off the lights too, but you’re not about to snitch. jongho joins the corner you have taken refuge in and yeosang follows soon after, content to stay far away from the havoc that has quickly turned into wrestling. unfortunately, wooyoung is unable to let the three of you watch the world burn peacefully. he yells at the boys, who choose this to be the time to actually listen to him for once, and you’re all left scrabbling in different directions when they dive for you three.

it’s only the first day of summer and the second hour of officially meeting the boys as their full group of eight, but you can already tell that the next few months are going to be filled with absolute chaos and mayhem. and so the summer that marks san’s third visit back to namhae passes by quickly as you and the eight boys fall into an easy routine. hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. summer revolves around each other and there is never a moment spent apart.

you join the boys at dawn every day, clad in only a pair of shorts, a tank top and a light cardigan to shoulder because there’s still a slight nip of the early morning before the sun appears. you watch contentedly as they dance with the ocean on their surfboards– a duet of paddling out into the deeper waters and catching the breaks of the swells back towards shore.

the more you watch them surf, the more you start to realise just how much san has improved. you still recall the day san had fallen in love with the way the surfer used his own body and surfboard as an extension of the ocean, and you still have early memories of san’s lanky limbs flailing as he lost his balance over and over again, trying to replicate the same gracefulness. now, san is not just a dancer– he is the choreographer; the one who controls the ocean under his board.

as the early morning wears on, the serene crash of waves and intermittent squawk of the soaring seagulls are gradually interspersed with the boys’ rings of joy as they become more interested in pushing each other off their boards and splashing each other, rather than surfing itself. the strongest trio easily overpower everyone else and you shake your head fondly when the others don’t learn their lesson regardless of how many times they are suplexed underwater.

when the sun starts to wake up, they join you on the sandy shores, surfboards placed in a rough row so that you can all share them like seats. you lean against whoever is sitting beside you and watch the sunrise until your stomachs start to growl for attention.

greasy takeaway is always the foolproof solution. you share hearty burgers that are too tall to bite into and salty fries that are slathered in dipping sauce, sprawled out on the cool floorboards at san’s or yours, soaking in the refreshing coldness of the air conditioner on high without a care in the world for the electricity bill that is racking up.

afternoons are for the second round of the meal; bingsoo from the cafe, pastries from the nearby bakery or cheap ice cream from the mart. and after all the food, the best way to digest before you go out again at dusk to catch some of the waves is to take a nap.

the giant puppy pile of tangled limbs and human pillows is arguably your favourite part of the day. even if the ends of jongho’s hair tickles your nose and your arm goes a little numb from the way san hugs it and your neck feels cramped from resting on seonghwa’s shoulder, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

sometimes, when you’re all feeling rejuvenated, you’ll clamber into their three cars or happily pack yourselves into two and drive down the coast to one of the other beaches. the drive there is music blasting and scratchy singing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down, your flyaway hairs caressing the cheeks of the boys beside you. it’s rest stops to fill up on drinks and dessert– any excuse for more ice cream and a chance to make hongjoong’s wallet cry.

the trip back, on the other hand, is quiet, the designated drivers pressing softly on the pedals and turning with care so as not to jostle the sleeping passengers. you’re all exhausted and passed out against one another, faces pressed against a shoulder or the crown of someone’s head. slow music plays lowly in the background as the streetlights start to turn on like a warm greeting to welcome your group home.

and just as yeosang had once said, wooyoung is a good cook. dinner time becomes a bonding activity– as if every second of summer isn’t already a bonding moment– where you all experiment with different and increasingly complicated recipes. it usually ends up with him and seonghwa actually doing the cooking whilst everyone else eats the ingredients and tries not to accidentally stab someone with the knives, and dinner doesn’t usually actually become dinner until eight or nine o’clock.

but it doesn’t really matter when, half the time, the post-meal conversations turn into a slumber party after time slips away. if you retire early, you’ll sometimes be joined by haneul in your bedroom, who has stayed in namhae this summer. she’ll spill her workplace tea and you’ll gossip about your college peers late until the stars have long started to twinkle in the sky.

there are no scheduled bedtimes, no proper mealtimes, no time limits to complete things nor niggling guilt not to complete things– there is no formal routine. but when spontaneity and carefreeness become the everyday occurrence, that becomes the routine.

and as with any sort of routine comes the familiarity. familiarity finds itself in the way san sing-songs wake up, sleepyhead whenever you accidentally sleep in, and instead of shying under the covers at the sight of him in your bedroom, you whine for five more minutes. familiarity finds itself in the way yunho’s hands hover around the small of your back whenever you’re all walking to the mart for snacks and in the way wooyoung immediately reaches for the flavours he knows you like.

familiarity finds itself in the way you and hongjoong will bare puppy teeth at each other one moment then naturally use the other as a human pillow the next. it’s in the way jongho hides you when san tries to throw you into the water; the way mingi tucks your head into his shoulder when he spins you around in a hug; when seonghwa reminds you to reapply sunscreen whilst dotting the lotion along your cheeks and when yeosang quietly drapes you in his jackets after you get out of the water.

but the thing with familiarity, though, is that it’s easy for it to overshadow other things. rather than realising that there is a shift in dynamic or a change in heart, other growing feelings can be mistaken for familiarity instead. and you don’t understand this until you least expect it.

your hands fumble to catch the bottle of sunscreen that yunho has thrown in your direction before it ends up landing on yeosang’s face. he’s taking a nap on the towel next to you, disputing against everyone else’s remarks that he should take the opportunity to surf considering you’ve all made the two-hour trip to dadaepo beach.

you adjust the small umbrella that he brought along so that it covers his upper body, then uncap the bottle and lather the sunscreen over your arms and legs. it’s when you get to your back that you realise you won’t be able to reach all of your skin. san or seonghwa are usually around to help if you decide to forgo a cropped shirt over your bikini top, but they’re already running far along the shore and you can’t be troubled to yell out for one of them.

you’re starting to wonder whether you can get away with not applying sunscreen on your back if you just make sure you lie on it the whole time when hongjoong spots your plight in the form of a blank stare and squeezed lotion in the palm of your hand.

“your short arms can’t reach your back, can they?”

you imitate his laughter with an exaggerated tone, “who was it that needed my help yesterday putting sunscreen on his back?”

“maybe i just didn’t want you to feel too bad about yourself,” he shrugs and walks over to swipe the glob of sunscreen out of your hands. you roll your eyes, knowing fully well he’s incapable of taking care of you without pretending to cover it up with an insult.

“stop squirming,” he chides. the contrasting cold of the lotion and warmth of his hand sends a shiver down your spine and you try not to dwell on his gentle rubs for too long. he’s meticulous in making sure he doesn’t miss a spot, but he’s also careful and deliberate with his touch around the knotted strings of your top so that you don’t feel uncomfortable. hongjoong and the word ‘uncomfortable’ could never be in the same sentence though. but he doesn’t need to know that.

“there,” he pats your back twice like a mechanic would with the hood of a fucking car to signal that he’s finished his job and then callously walks away.

you decide to let him off the hook and settle down on your stomach to rest your eyes for a bit. yeosang knows what he’s doing, because the combined warmth of the sand beneath your towel and from the overhead rays makes you drowsy almost immediately.

you’re flicking your salt-crusted hair out of your face when a voice interrupts, “hi, i’m sorry to bother you.”

lifting your head up to look, you’re met with the sight of a girl around your age, timidly fiddling with the popsocket on her phone. you sit up and give her a polite smile, “that’s okay. can i help you?”

“um, i was just hoping to ask if he has a girlfriend?”

the boys are all scattered along the length of the beach, save for yeosang next to you, so you’re not entirely sure who the girl is referring to until you follow her finger. she’s pointing in the direction of hongjoong, who’s joined some of the others along the shore.

“the short one?” you clarify, smile fading a little as you shrug, “i’m not too sure, sorry.”

the girl shakes her head, “oh, no. i meant the boy on his left.”

choi san. you now fight to keep the smile on your face friendly when you reply, “not that i know of.”

the girl thanks you excitedly, walking off back to her group of friends who immediately huddle around her to hear your answer. you look away.

you don’t realise you’re staring at san until he turns in the distance and makes eye contact with you. his entire face lights up, eyes disappearing and shadowed dimples revealing themselves under the gleaming sun. wooyoung takes the opportunity whilst san is distracted to swing a handful of limp seaweed straight into san’s face and a laugh escapes you before you can hold it in. your best friend looks more betrayed by your laughter than by wooyoung’s antics.

the younger turns to look at you with pride and when he sees that you’re laughing, he blows you an exaggerated kiss and sends it flying in your direction with a teasing flurry of his hand. yunho charges in from out of absolutely nowhere and pretends to tackle the kiss mid-air, throwing the imaginary show of affection into the sand where hongjoong immediately joins in and stomps on it with his foot, before sending you a flying kiss of his own instead.

chaos ensues and both hongjoong and yunho run for their lives as wooyoung chases them with his deadly seaweed whip. he quickly realises that the taller of the two will be impossible to catch, so he locks in on the easier target and hongjoong screeches in fear.

you can’t help but shake your head adoringly as you continue to watch, eyes landing on san once more when the cat and mouse go tearing past him in a whirlwind of sand. san holds your gaze with a fond smile of his own and you have to remind yourself that it’s normal for the boys to have suitors.

you’re not dating san. you’re not dating hongjoong. you’re not dating any of the boys, and they’re certainly not yours. so then, why does it feel like they are? but most of all, why does your heart feel equally bitter at the thought of someone asking about any of the boys…not just your best friend?

the sight of the tube of aloe vera gel in the fridge– likely placed there by seonghwa– is a welcome sight. you had diligently reapplied sunscreen to your body with the boys’ constant reminders to reapply but you had carelessly forgotten about your face. you’re paying the price of your mistake now and the red skin across the apples of your cheeks and forehead is tight with a constant, dull throb.

grabbing the tube, you walk into the bathroom where hongjoong is currently blow-drying his hair, having callen dibs on the shower after the beach trip.

“hey, lil’ tomato,” he jests before he gets a good look at your face. “woah, that looks worse than it was an hour ago.”

you hum as you peer closer into the mirror, “this is probably the worst sunburn i’ve ever gotten before.”

hongjoong ruffles the back of his hair one last time under the dryer before unplugging it and setting it on the rack. he slips the tube of ointment out of your hands and then turns you by the shoulders to face him. that’s how you find yourself between hongjoong’s front and the porcelain sink, the edge of the countertop digging slightly into your lower back as you watch him squeeze a generous amount of aloe vera onto the tip of his finger.

he murmurs, “hold still.” with a light touch, he tilts your chin up so that he can see the angry skin of your face. the stark contrast between the characteristic roughness of his edges and the tenderness with which he applies the soothing gel on your face right now has you itching to tease him.

“admit it. you like taking care of me, don’t you.”

he rolls his eyes, “and you like being taken care of, don’t you. like when you needed your notes handwritten by johnny.”

ever since that one incident, the boys have never let you hear the end of it. they may not realise it themselves either, but really, they’re just trying to keep low tabs on this…classmate. even if the way they go about it reflects the emotional maturity of somebody half their actual age.

“i admit it’s nice to be taken care of. what about you, huh?” you challenge, poking his side testingly. “you like taking care of me, don’t you?”

you giggle when he squirms and you try it again to elicit another response, until he suddenly grabs your hand by the wrist.

“and so what if i do?” his words come out easily, but unlike the usual cockiness and flirtatiousness that he jokes around with, his tone is low and serious.

you don’t respond because you don’t know what to respond; you’re suddenly walking in uncharted territory– both in regards to his feelings and your own.

when his fingertips brush the area of your cheeks just below your under-eyes, you can’t help the instinctive flutter of your lashes. his eyes stare into yours and you swallow, noticing the way his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. there’s hunger in his pupils and longing in your chest. you don’t move away when he moves closer in.

your eyelids flutter closed once again, except this time in anticipation. his hands still cup your cheek and hold your wrist and when he brings his face down towards yours, you can feel the warmth of his body surrounding and intoxicating you. but as his nose starts to nudge the softness of your cheeks, hongjoong pulls away.

“sorry, i–this was a mistake. i shouldn’t be doing this,” he stutters. and just like that, the moment shatters.

“th–that’s okay,” you awkwardly smile. “this never happened.”

he nods without looking at you, “this never happened.”

you’re glad your face is sunburnt because you’re certain your face would be glowing from the embarrassment and shame you are overwhelmed with. hongjoong turns around before you can say anything else and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.

quickly, you lock the door and then stand there stunned into a stupor. because his…whatever the fuck that was, has given you startling clarity that he is right. you shouldn’t be doing this. you shouldn’t be kissing him when you want san and your six other friends equally as much.

and most of all, it was foolish of you to assume that he actually wanted something more than friendship. if hongjoong, the most flirtatious of them all, doesn’t have any romantic interest in you– or at the very least enough to want to pursue something more– then what makes you think you have a chance with any of the boys? what makes you think that any of them– much less all of them– would want you in the same way that you have now realised you want them?

in a way, your heart feels more at ease now. knowing that your feelings for the boys will be unfruitful one way or another, it’s much easier to ignore the now obvious lurch in your heart whenever they pull you into an easy hug or tell you that you look pretty. it’s easier to repress the longing you have for them when they help you put on sunscreen or surround your house with mischief and laughter.

you can’t tell whether hongjoong is actively avoiding you or whether he is conveniently busy with the other boys, but you suppose time apart right now is good for the both of you. after all, time is supposed to heal everything. and so even as the end of summer approaches and the much anticipated night of the barbeque and campfire tradition arrives, you keep your distance from hongjoong and he keeps his. simply two friends coexisting within the larger group of friends; nothing more, nothing less.

you’re all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.

dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoung’s skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallows– the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.

someone had then suggested a round of ‘truth or dare’, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them. as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.

“mingi,” haneul directs her question at the taller, “ if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?”

his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends. “i’d date you all,” he shrugs. “but if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since he’s been there for me from day one.”

yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, “your parents would love to hear that answer.”

you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and you’re reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.

moving the game on, mingi asks seonghwa when he picks truth, “if you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?”

seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames. “i think it depends on the situation, because in the end, they’re not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. it’s impossible to say that one is more important than the other.”

there’s a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where he’s coming from. it still doesn’t stop san from retorting, “the whole point is to pick one.”

seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him. “what about you, then?”

much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.

“i would probably choose love. i think you’re right in saying you can’t separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,” he muses. “it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.”

a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves. haneul nudges you curiously, “what do you think?”

you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts. “i think i would choose love, too. i’ll admit it’s a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be made…it can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.”

hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.

“but at the same time,” you continue, “when you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isn’t always possible with friendship.”

“you and san are both such gross romantics,” haneul pretends to gag.

“yeah, shoot us for it,” you poke her in the side. “wooyoung, truth or dare?”

“since everyone’s picking truth…truth.”

“who’s someone you’re sorry towards or thankful for?”

he whines indignantly, “why are we suddenly getting so personal,” but proceeds to think about his answer seriously. “if i’m honest, i’m sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.”

there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that he’s wrong. it’s just that knowing doesn’t always stop him from feeling a certain way. “and of course, what i’m sorry for goes hand in hand with what i’m thankful for. but i’m also especially thankful for y/n,” he reveals.

your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.

“i haven’t known you for as long as most of the other boys, but i’ve seen how happy and vibrant they are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happy–you make us happy.”

mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the younger’s answer, “when i’m here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.”

a home that he’s never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.

“so thank you for giving me a home here,” mingi looks at you earnestly.

if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly. instead, you tell him, “no matter how many years go by, you’ll always have a home here.”

“and the rest of us?” yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.

“you all have a home here,” you amend. because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.

you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each other’s hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different. life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.

“you know what we should do?” wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire. he grins, “we should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.”

“just…straight up scream?” hongjoong frowns.

a smile starts to spread across san’s face as he understands wooyoung’s vision. “no, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,” san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.

seonghwa questions, “are we really doing this?” and yet he stands up as well.

“when will we ever get a chance to do this again?”

one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. it’s silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.

yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, “i want to become a famous choreographer!”

there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but it’s enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.

“i want my parents to accept that i won’t be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!” yeosang calls out.

mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, “i hope i’ll win the lottery one day!”

you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?

reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.

thank you for showing me what love feels like. you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.

taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.

and even though you’re all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment. from here on, it’s the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.

you’ve known johnny since you started attending namhae’s provincial college. being from a relatively small cohort and the same degree no less, you share most of your classes together. there’ll be a few times throughout the month that you’ll find yourselves sitting in the seat beside each other and maybe once a semester that you’ll complete a group task together.

he’s easy enough to get along with, conversation sprinkled with terrible jokes and random puns that remind you of yunho’s silly humour. you know for a fact as well that they’re the same height too, which sort of makes you wonder whether being tall has something to do with the way their funny bone develops, considering mingi’s humour is just as questionable.

you and johnny aren’t exactly distant enough to only be classified as classmates, but you’re not exactly close either. so it’s a surprise when, after summer ends and it marks a new semester, johnny asks you out on a coffee date on the weekend. (except the more you think about it afterwards, the more your seemingly random interactions make sense. why he asks for your number even after the group project is over. why he offers to drop off handwritten notes for you. why he sometimes favours sitting with you as opposed to with his own friends.)

initially, you tell him that you’re not interested, any potential awkwardness dissipating the moment he dramatically wails that he’s been rejected, much like hongjoong had when you had first met him. but then a week later, johnny coolly slaps an envelope onto the surface of your lecture table and struts off without looking back. when you open it, you realise it’s a three-page handwritten essay detailing his pros and cons in an attempt to try and win you over.

it reminds you of wooyoung, when he had made a whole presentation on his laptop complete with photographic and videographic evidence to try and convince you that he was the best dancer out of himself, san, yunho and mingi. like your friend, johnny’s efforts are honestly a little too hilarious and a little too endearing to reject for a second time, and it’s not like johnny has done anything to suggest that he’s a creep or murderer. so you let him take you out on the date.

he chooses to go to the small, quaint cafe that’s about a fifteen-minute walk from campus. coincidentally, it’s the one that you and san used to frequent before he moved away to seoul. johnny tells you to try the chocolate hazelnut dacquoise slices, which you do even though you know you prefer the strawberry ones more. the sweet mouthful makes you think of san, always offering you the first bite of his chocolate dacquoise in hopes of converting you to the flavour.

johnny pays for your dessert and drink and you two end up sitting in the cafe long after your plates have been cleared and mugs emptied to their bottoms. it turns out he likes spending time at the beach just as much as you do and he tells you of his summer trip to the maldives for his casual modelling gig. you’re not entirely surprised to learn of his part-time endeavours, considering you’ve never seen him dressed in anything less than loafers, chino shorts and a neatly-pressed button-up shirt. plus, johnny is objectively very attractive with his strong brows, chiselled jawline and dark locks of hair.

he offers to walk you home after your date, shrugging off his white button-up and passing it to you when you exit the cafe. it’s still warm enough in the afternoon to not need the extra layer, but you’re reminded of yeosang’s quiet yet perceptive gestures and it makes you smile nonetheless.

the weekend leads to a second date, followed by more time spent together. he finds reasons to see you throughout the weeks– the sun’s out which means you two should take a walk along the beach; he fell asleep during yesterday’s lecture which means you two should study at the cafe; he has a basketball match on the weekend which means you two should practise shooting hoops together.

and when you’re not physically spending time together, johnny likes to facetime you just so that he can ‘see your pretty face’. the frequency with which he compliments you randomly throughout the call is almost on par with seonghwa, who always sweetly observes when you're wearing a new lip tint or different hairstyle.

johnny’s laugh, be it in person or over video call, never fails to make you laugh with him. it’s boisterous when he doubles over with laughter and his eyes disappear when he chuckles. you can’t help but see jongho’s own adorable giggles in him.

after several months of courting advances, johnny asks to make it official. you say yes, because you have fallen for him.

and so, like the dwindling campfire that had marked the end of summer, you snuff out the remains of the fire in your heart that has been burning for san, hongjoong and the six other boys, leaving the last of the embers to their fate. left alone, they will slowly die out, completely extinguishing the flames and leaving only ashen remnants behind…or the sparks will continue to fight unnoticed; until they rekindle and turn into an uncontainable inferno.

“with all due disrespect, his parents don’t fucking deserve to be parents,” wooyoung spits out.

yunho tucks the blotchy aftermath of mingi’s heartbreak a little tighter into the crook of his own neck, other hand softly tousling the ends of the younger’s hair. the boys have only just managed to settle mingi into one of the beds in their shared dorm rooms after he had shown up at the dance studio barely holding it together by his last thread.

“i don’t think any of us had high hopes for them, considering the things he’s told us about them over the last few years,” seonghwa sighs as he pulls the blanket over mingi’s shoulders.

“but for them to just fucking disown him like that? do they even realise how much it took for him to come clean about us?”

san gently pulls wooyoung away from the bed, lest he wake up the boy in question, and massages his clenched fist open. yeosang sidles up to the pair, “do you think we could go down to namhae a few days earlier this summer?”

“that actually might be possible,” san chews on his bottom lip and takes out his phone to text his parents. “it’ll be a nice surprise for y/n, too.”

“she’s in for a few surprises,” jongho comments before nudging the boy next to him. “hopefully you didn’t scare her off after what you did.”

hongjoong scratches the nape of his neck at the jab, “yeah, i hope i didn’t fuck things up for all of us.”

“you still haven’t talked it out with her?” san looks up from his phone.

hongjoong grimaces, “no, but how could i? she said to pretend that it didn’t happen.”

“and you just took her word for it? god, that’s literally the universal response anyone would automatically give in a situation that’s utterly and mortifyingly embarrassing,” wooyoung throws his arms up into the air. “i wouldn’t be surprised if she says no to us after all.”

“look, i’ll talk to her when we see her again. the semester’s nearly over, anyway.”

san nods, “my parents are fine with us going down a weekend earlier. and i agree with hongjoong on this one–it’s probably something they should talk about in person, not over the phone. let’s just hope we haven’t missed our timing with this.”

there’s only a few more weeks left until summer, minus one week now that they have decided to make the trip down to namhae earlier for mingi’s sake. and regardless of what your answer will be to the question that they’ll ask you– be it yes or no– it still won’t change the fact that everything will be okay once they get to namhae. because everything is okay as long as you are by their side.

there’s a man standing by your side, and it’s not one of them.

it’s strange to see you holding hands with someone that they don’t know. of course, it’s inevitable that you would have your own friends in namhae and from college, and of course it’s inevitable that you would have friends of both genders. but the way you have your fingers interlocked with his looks anything but platonic.

the boys are familiar with the way their own hands feel with yours nestled in theirs; from when you squeeze yourself between two of them and happily swing your intertwined hands back and forth; when a large wave threatens to topple you over and you instinctively reach for them for support; when you’re curled up against them and absentmindedly fiddling with their fingers whilst watching a cheesy summer romcom. but right now, their own hands feel unfamiliar– oddly empty and unable to make up its mind as to whether it wants to relax or tighten into a fist, even more so when you make eye contact with them standing outside san’s house and freeze.

you haven’t told the boys about johnny yet, only that you had news you wanted to tell them in person once they came for the summer. but now that they are here, standing right in front of you and your boyfriend, you suddenly feel a prick of guilt that you hadn’t given them a heads up of some kind.

you slip your hand out of johnny’s grasp under the guise of tidying your hair. if johnny notices, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, he asks, “you know them?” and settles his arm heavily over your shoulders. the action probably looks as territorial as it feels.

“yeah, they’re my closest friends,” you answer louder than you need to, because you feel like you have to defend them– or yourself. “san’s from namhae, too, and the others are from different provinces. they go to college together in seoul.”

“oh,” your boyfriend makes a noise, “it’s them.”

hongjoong feels awfully smug at that comment, because it means that you’ve talked about them before. he feels even more pleased when you slightly step out from under the man’s arm. but then your next words have his expression darkening again.

“i was going to officially introduce him to you guys on your first day…i just wasn’t expecting it to be today,” you gently place your hand on johnny’s forearm. “this is johnny, my boyfriend.”

immediately, the boys recognise his name– how could they forget, when the name has never once left their subconscious since the moment he was mentioned. a fleeting thought enters hongjoong’s mind. if he had not pulled away that night– if he had kissed you instead of being a coward– would it be him standing by your side as your boyfriend right now?

and hongjoong is not alone in his thoughts. wooyoung’s teeth grit together as he wonders how different things may have turned out if only the older or he himself had been bolder with their feelings. if only any of them had plucked up the courage to make the first move. because you dating any of them would automatically put their heart infinitely more at ease than the literal fucking stranger who is standing by your side.

you’re about to tell your boyfriend the names of the eight boys in front of you when he raises an eyebrow at you, “you didn’t tell me your friends were all guys.” his tone isn’t accusatory, per se, but it’s definitely not cordial, either. this side of johnny is completely new to you.

seeing the flustered look on your face irks wooyoung in every way possible so he interrupts, “and why does it matter to you?”

johnny levels him with a look for several seconds before smiling placatingly. “you’ll understand when you get a girlfriend,” he dismisses.

immediately, there’s a palpable spike in tension. “sorry?” wooyoung scoffs.

san sets a firm hand on the back of wooyoung’s neck and you lowly murmur your boyfriend’s name– respectively scruffing the two men. you didn’t know what to expect introducing your friends and boyfriend to each other. but the start of what looks like it has the potential to turn into a fight was definitely not on the list.

in a lame attempt to change the topic, you comment, “you guys are here early this year.”

there’s a beat of silence that’s a split second longer than you deem comfortable and yunho clears his throat, “yeah…things ended up this way.”

the vague comment and pointed look in your boyfriend’s direction tells you that there’s more to it than they are letting you onto right now. you make a mental note to talk to them once johnny leaves…if he ends up leaving. but the heavy weight that is still draped around your shoulder shows no intention of removing itself.

even though your instinct is to run up to the boys and receive all the hugs you have missed, and their instinct is to pull you away from the unfamiliar man and back into the intimacy of their group, the arm around you is a stark reminder to everyone that you’re not single anymore– that there are now boundaries to respect. instead, your friends are left to shuffle awkwardly on the spot with wavering gazes as if they have caught you doing something they weren’t supposed to see.

“do you have classes today?” san dares to ask.

“not today. we were just…out,” you reply. on a date, it goes unsaid.

“well, we’re headed for the beach,” san hates the fact that he even has to ask his next sentence, “do you want to join us?”

looking at johnny, you hate the fact that your immediate answer isn’t to say yes. he glances at you and then answers on your behalf, “we’ll join. it’ll be nice for us to get to know each other, since it seems like we’ll be seeing each other often this summer.”

“not if you don’t show up,” wooyoung mutters under his breath, but he’s not really trying to be quiet about his disdain.

you fake a smile and push your boyfriend towards the entrance to your house. “we’ll get changed and then meet you guys down at the beach.” you don’t wait for an answer before shoving the front door open and shut again in quick succession behind you.

“wait here,” you tell johnny, “i’ll get you a spare pair of shorts,” then you disappear into your bedroom and let out a deep exhale, closing your eyes to clear your head.

you had spent the last few years embracing the changes in your relationship with san. every summer marked a change in your friendship group– a new chapter each year as you rewrote the group dynamics with additional people to love and be loved by.

this summer, like the others, also marks a change and beginning of a new chapter, but now you’re realising that not all chapters in a story will always be happy. instead, some chapters will mark the beginning of the complication.

it feels like an unusual mix between deja vu and an out-of-body experience as san straps the leash of his surfboard around his ankle. his gaze follows your form and he watches silently when you’re picked by the waist and tossed into the ocean. it looks all too familiar– except instead of him being the one who brings the laughter out of your squeals, it’s that annoyingly tall and irritatingly jacked dude that is your boyfriend.

san can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips as he peels his eyes away. if johnny makes you happy, then objectively, san wants nothing more for you. but he cannot help but feel that you are undeserving of anything less than the entire world; something he and his boys are willing to give to you. but life is all about timing and it seems like they’ve missed theirs.

he’s distracted by the sight of you and johnny in his peripheral vision, even as he paddles out into the deeper waters with yunho. the taller is uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes repeatedly flickering back and forth between you and mingi. mingi needed this trip more than any of them combined, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of yunho’s stomach that’s telling him the appearance of your boyfriend is only just the beginning of a rocky summer.

regardless of their combined years of surfing experience, both yunho and san seem to continuously lose their balance on their boards today. and despite the saltiness of the sea water that flows into san’s mouth each time he falls– no longer the graceful choreographer of the sea– there’s a bitter taste on his tongue that he cannot get rid of no matter how many bottles of water he drinks over the rest of the day.

it follows him even when the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries and syrupy drinks permeates the air the moment he walks into the bakery you so adore after your group walks from the beach. san pulls the glass door open for you, wind chime tinkling softly overhead, and he has to resist the urge to let go of the door handle when your boyfriend also walks through without so much as a word or glance of gratitude.

before san walks up to the counter, he instinctively turns around to check your order before he adds it to his own like he has always done. “strawberry dacquoise and grapefruit ade?”

you’re about to nod when johnny steps into place beside you and asserts, “she likes the chocolate ones.”

san keeps his voice as even as he can and refutes, “no, y/n prefers the strawberry ones. i would know, considering we’ve been going to this cafe together since we were twelve.” he emphasises the last word, clearly telling the other that he is the one who has known you since you were young and therefore knows you the best out of anyone, boyfriend be damned.

not backing down, johnny turns to ask, “is that true, babe?”

you swallow uncomfortably, mouth suddenly dry. “i like both,” you evade.

but your lack of denial says more than enough and johnny’s frown deepens almost immediately. at his expression, you rush to amend, “i know you like the chocolate ones more. it makes me happy sharing them with you.”

“you should’ve told me,” johnny fusses. but opposed to disappointment at not having known your preference for strawberry, he seems more displeased at having discovered this fact through your male friend.

san notices how apologetic you start to feel and he absolutely despises how unfamiliar it looks on your face. if this is the type of boyfriend that he is giving you up to, then san is not prepared to let go of you at all.

“or maybe you should’ve noticed,” he shrugs nonchalantly in your boyfriend’s direction before smiling tenderly at you. “i’ll order your food. go find a seat with seong–”

johnny’s voice is heated when he interjects, “no, you won’t. i’ll pay for my girlfriend’s food.”

you’ve never heard him talk with this tone before, much less seen him act this way, but his words suddenly strike you with clarity and reasoning. with a relationship comes adherence to mutual boundaries and expectations, and although san is used to doting on you, the reality now is that johnny currently fulfills that role as your boyfriend.

“it’s alright, san. thank you,” you give your friend a soft smile. “johnny’s got it for me.”

san nods, defeated. your boyfriend gently nudges you in the direction of the tables, “go sit down. i’ll bring our order over when it’s ready.”

on edge, you walk to where some of the boys are already seated and slide in beside seonghwa, who has been watching the entire exchange silently. “y/n,” he starts.

you plaster on a smile, “it’s okay.”

seonghwa studies you carefully for a moment, then appears to make up his mind about something and returns your smile. except anybody can see that it doesn’t reach his eyes. “do you want to swap seats with me? that way you and johnny can sit on the same side.”

grateful for his thoughtfulness, you change seats and sit on his left just as wooyoung joins the table with an iced americano in his hand. he sets it down to drag a spare chair beside him, offhandedly commenting, “why are you even dating him? i don’t get what you see in him.”

he hisses when seonghwa kicks his shin from under the table, shaking his head, and you just give the younger a tight-lipped smile in response. you’re distracted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket. a quick glance downwards tells you that it’s a text from san.

sorry for putting you between your bf and i

you look up in surprise and find that he’s already gazing at you from where he’s waiting at the counter. his eyebrows knit together in apology and you shake your head, mouthing that it’s okay. san has always been the bigger person in any situation– with you, with friends and family, and even with people he doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye with.

your phone buzzes again, twice in succession, but this time the notifications aren’t from him. it’s johnny.

what’s his problem, god wants to get into your pants or sth

your boyfriend continues to tap away at his phone, expression marred with poorly concealed irritation. but he doesn’t seem to be referring to your texting exchange with san– you don’t think he’s even noticed. instead, he’s still hooked on the ordering incident.

slipping the phone back into your pocket and pretending you have not noticed the messages yet, you simply wait for johnny to grab the tray with your pastries and drinks before he slides into the chair next to you. and for the first time since dating, you find yourself comparing your boyfriend not to san, but against him.

it feels like you have spent the last two months treading carefully on eggshells. there are days you spend with both johnny and the boys and it becomes clear to everyone pretty quickly that they’re not warming up to each other. despite your best efforts to bring them closer, there is unmistakable tension that underlies every interaction that they have and don’t have with one another.

then there are the days you spend with just your boyfriend. he doesn’t mention your friends and neither do you, but you notice the way his gaze flickers to your phone whenever it lights up with a notification. like a mutual taboo, he simply continues the conversation after a pause and you don’t point it out.

and then there are the rarer days that you spend with just the eight of your friends, like today– the ones that feel like the old summers that you have started to yearn. and yet, even with the familiar essence of the past, you start to notice them. the subtle differences.

it’s not obvious at first. the casual displays of affection that have extended beyond habitual touches and have just become who they are are still there. but there’s something about the attentiveness with which seonghwa dusts the powdered sugar off of yeosang’s cheeks when he’s eating. or in the naturalness with which wooyoung moulds himself into san’s side when they sit on the couch. something in the way mingi’s entire body relaxes whenever yunho gently thumbs the nape of his neck, and in the softening of hongjoong’s eyes when jongho speaks up in conversation.

maybe it’s because you find yourself no longer a part of their shared love, regardless of how platonic it may be between you and the boys. ultimately, it’s easier to notice things when you’re watching on as what feels like an outsider. and it makes sense that the dynamics of your friendship would change, considering how deeply embedded physical affection is within your group and the fact that you now have a boyfriend, but there’s something more to their interactions– you’re sure of it. you just can’t put your finger on what exactly.

it’s that thought that reminds you of yunho’s words when he and the rest of your friends had turned up a week before the start of summer. “what did you mean about things having ended up this way when you guys came down to namhae early?” you suddenly ask, eyes looking away from the television screen where the round of their game has just ended. “and wasn’t there something else you guys had wanted to tell me about?”

clearly not having expected your questions, yunho blinks as he formulates a response, “yeah, there is. just–maybe talk to mingi first. you’ll probably want to hear it directly from him.”

and hongjoong needs to talk to you first, too, yunho thinks to himself. except, he wonders whether there is even a point to it anymore.

your heart sinks at yunho’s words because you have a feeling it has to do with mingi’s parents. and his parents are never good news. right at that moment, mingi emerges through the doorway after his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he uses its ends to roughly dry his hair. he stops in his tracks when he notices you and yunho staring at him.

“i know i’m hot but you don’t have to make it that obvious,” he jokes.

you snort and shake your head, getting up to your feet and walking over to him as yunho watches knowingly. “come sit outside with me for a bit?” you ask mingi.

he agrees, pulling the towel off and tossing it onto the back of a chair to dry. you catch a whiff of san’s shampoo when he moves, the fragrance of cedarwood and bergamot that all the boys end up being scented with each summer filling your nose.

the two of you sit on the embankment just outside san’s house, legs dangling off the edge of the port. you can just barely toe the start of the sand but mingi easily shuffles his feet in it, drawing lazy patterns in your company. after a few minutes of peaceful silence, he nudges you gently albeit playfully, “did you want to ask me something?”

you chuckle at having been exposed and nudge him back in response. he never budges, torso bigger and more muscular than you can move, but it doesn’t stop you from trying and him from laughing endearingly.

“i asked yunho why you guys came down earlier this summer and he said to ask you,” you peer at him, treading carefully with your next words, “is everything okay?”

he takes a breath, exhaling long and slow. “i came out to my parents,” he reveals. “told them i’m bi and…they didn’t take it well.”

mingi doesn’t need to elaborate for you to understand that his parents didn’t just ‘not take it well’. you can only imagine the hell that broke loose. “oh, mingi,” you sigh, eyebrows knitting together with hurt.

“i also told them that i’m dati–”

the sound of the door opening and the call of your name stops mingi from finishing his sentence. it’s yunho with a ringing phone in his hand. “you might want to take this call,” he alerts you.

frowning, you make a stand to reach for your phone, asking, “who is it?”

he glances down awkwardly at the screen that is still on. “your boyfriend.”

you’re just about to slide the answer button when the call disconnects and you see that including the one that has just ended, you have four missed calls.

“oh, shit,” you can’t help the curse that slips out of your mouth. four missed calls is never a good sign from anybody, much less your boyfriend, who has also sent you several texts asking where you are.

seeing the darkening of your expression, yunho misses the girl whose biggest worry was the number of ice cream scoops to scam hongjoong out of. he misses the girl whose smile was brighter than the reflected sun on san’s surfboard. most of all, yunho misses the girl he has fallen in love with.

“y/n, i’m going to be honest with you,” he hesitates slightly. “i don’t think he’s the right one for you.”

you know that yunho’s looking out for you and his heart is in the right place, but it’s not what you want to– or need to hear right now. and perhaps, there’s an inkling of you that already knows. still, you try to keep your voice even when you reply, “i’d know if he’s not.”

you turn to mingi next and shoot him an apologetic look, “i’m sorry but i should probably call him back. we’ll talk later, yeah?”

mingi doesn’t know when later will be and neither do you. but he simply nods and lets you go, watching dejectedly as your form disappears back into your house at the same time san steps out of his. he had been carefully observing from the window the moment yunho had walked out with your incessantly ringing phone in his hand.

“guess he takes priority over us now,” mingi sighs.

san looks at him bittersweetly, “that’s what happens when you find somebody you love. like johnny is her priority, you are my priority and yunho’s. in fact, you’re the priority of five other people as well.” despite the fact that he is shorter, san still reaches up to flick mingi’s nose affectionately as he fondly states, “aren’t you lucky.”

mingi scrunches his nose in retaliation and san diverts the topic, “now come on, are you going to just stand back and let yunho win the game again?”

the younger grins, light returning to his eyes as he cheekily suggests, “you distract him while i cheat?”

“i’m right here,” yunho protests, but he’s shaking his head dotingly. together, he and mingi make their way back into the house, hands finding each other as they pass through the threshold.

san lingers behind and stares at the closed door of your house. for the longest time, you have been one of san’s priorities, if not the priority. over the last few years, the number of his priorities have steadily grown and you now share the top of the list in his heart with seven other boys. your happiness is san’s priority, as is the happiness of the others.

but what happens when interests start to conflict and your boyfriend– and by association, you– becomes a reason for unhappiness amongst the people he cares so dearly for? what happens if there comes a day where he must choose between his priorities and push somebody down the list, or worse…completely out of his heart?

you’re just as troubled when, half an hour after his missed calls and your subsequent response asking to meet up, you and johnny aimlessly wander the streets of the neighbourhood. the air is tense and despite the cry of cicadas, the silence from the lack of conversation is the only sound that you can hear. you can tell that he’s displeased by the fact that you had been with your friends, but you’re not exactly happy with him right now either.

you know an argument’s brewing– one that has been long coming, perhaps since the start of summer. you could have chosen to take the night to cool down, but it will eventually boil over one day, be it him or yourself. better to address it now than wait until it’s too late, and perhaps you can salvage it before it does boil over.

“why did you call me so many times?”

johnny knows you’re not only asking about tonight, and definitely not only about his phone calls. and yet, your tone is not accusatory, only genuinely curious and open to understanding his reasoning and emotions. solely because he feels guilt starting to prick his insides at your question does he make an attempt to reign in his childish jealousy that has reared its head so many times in the last two months.

“i didn’t know where you were,” he halfheartedly answers. “i thought something had happened.”

you both know it’s a lie– a pretty bad one at that. you had texted him just mere hours ago telling him that you would be at san’s. at his excuse, you raise an eyebrow.

“i don’t like the way they look at you,” johnny finally admits, partially showing his true colours. “especially san.”

you had guessed just as much and you can see why he might feel that way, but you want him to see where you’re coming from, too. “we grew up together, johnny. we’re each other’s best friend and he doesn’t like me like that.”

warm breath ghosting over your lips and then disappearing just as fast flits across your memory. “none of them do,” you emphasise. “and i’ve been transparent about hanging out with them when you’re not there, haven’t i? i literally texted you a few hours ago.”

he hesitates, “i was busy playing basketball with my friends. i missed your text and then you didn’t reply or answer my calls…” the way his voice drops off the more he talks is a good indicator that he knows the patheticness of his justification.

“and i was busy with my friends, too,” you reason. “you’re not glued to your phone, and neither am i.”

you continue when he stays silent, “you’re my boyfriend and i understand that it can make you feel uneasy when i hang out with so many guys, but you have to understand that they’re my friends, and my closest ones too. i would appreciate it if you give me more space when i’m with them, but i’ll also try to make sure i’m reachable on my phone so you have a piece of mind.”

you look at him and search his eyes for any indicators that he has more to say. from the way his jaw clenches subtly, you know that he’s disgruntled at best. but to your surprise he does not protest, instead nodding and walking you back to your house. you can’t tell whether the silence this time is slightly better or just as suffocating.

when you reach your front door, the lights are still on in the neighbouring house and you can hear the muted ruckus of laughter. as you unlock your door and pull it open, your boyfriend surprises you once more by calling out, “i love you.”

you learn a lot about a person simply from the things that they say, and sometimes–

“i know,” you reply gently, before shutting the door.

–you learn even more about a person simply from the things that they don’t say.

it’s two weeks after your conversation with johnny when he runs into some of the boys at one of the beachside cafes without your presence.

with autumn just around the corner, you’re spending the day transitioning the rice seedlings, now almost at the height of your thighs, from the wet paddies to the drier fields since your parents aren’t in namhae to do it. only mingi, yunho and jongho are helping you out; you had discovered the hard way last summer that letting all eight of them help you was, in fact, counterproductive when there were more plants being trampled on than safely moved.

and so while the four of you are working in the rice paddy, the remaining boys sit on the cafe terrace that overlooks the beach about a ten-minute drive from your and san’s houses. a hush suddenly falls over their conversation, elbows inconspicuously nudging one another and shoulders tensing when they spot your boyfriend making his way towards the cafe with a small group of his own friends.

a smirk graces johnny’s lips when his gaze falls upon the five of your friends, ignoring the courteous nod of acknowledgement that seonghwa attempts to make on their behalf and instead walking closer onto the cafe’s terrace. it’s not clearly audible, but it’s definitely direct enough for the boys to make out the words when johnny walks past and mutters, “fuckin’ pussies.”

wooyoung immediately reacts. “what the fuck did you just say?” he growls threateningly as seonghwa squeezes his thigh in anticipation of him standing up.

johnny pauses to look at them with faux innocence, “i wasn’t talking to you guys, but i guess if you’re offended–”

it’s hongjoong who rises to his feet first, chair screeching as it slides out from under his knees along the wooden deck. “you say one more fucking word,” he starts, eyes thunderous and fists turning white at his sides.

“and you’ll what,” johnny sneers, “run to my girlfriend crying? ask her to have a little talk with me?”

at the mention of you, both san and wooyoung join hongjoong on their feet. “watch what you say,” san looks at him dangerously. “don’t bring y/n into this.”

the commotion is starting to attract the attention of the staff and other customers in the cafe. seonghwa slowly stands, preparing to step in before it can escalate into something physical as yeosang grips the seat of his chair.

johnny steps closer and scoffs, “that’s bullshit. you guys can’t even take care of your own feelings so you have to hide behind my girlfriend like a bunch of pathetic losers. it makes no fucking sense for her to ask me to leave her alone when she’s with you guys.”

“and i bet it’s never fucking crossed your mind that maybe it’s an issue with something you’re doing–not us,” wooyoung reciprocates with his own bold step closer.

he’s suddenly jerked forward when johnny fists the front of his shirt and instantly everyone moves in towards the two. seonghwa wedges his arms against their chests to prevent wooyoung from getting dragged further forward, though the younger is fiercely standing his ground, teeth bared and eyes murderous. save for yeosang, who comes to stand protectively behind him, the remaining two boys are swept up into the beginnings of a scuffle as johnny’s friends step in as well.

“look at you, all riled up,” johnny goads, ignoring the hands that are trying to keep him subdued. “and she tells me that you don’t all want to fuck her?”

seonghwa inhales sharply as he attempts to overpower both wooyoung and hongjoong, who is now extremely determined to connect his fist with your boyfriend’s face. but to many of their infuriation, the fist doesn’t get a chance to hit its well-deserved target when there’s a firm shout over the commotion.

the cafe manager harshly warns, “we’re going to have to ask you all to leave the premises, otherwise we’re going to call the police.”

“wooyoung! hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses. “it’s not worth the trouble. stop!”

there are a few tense seconds of heaving chests and grinding jaws before johnny lets wooyoung go with a shove and hongjoong begrudgingly and slowly lowers his raised fist.

“you bitches got lucky this time,” johnny glowers. he beckons to his friends with a jerk of his head, still glaring at wooyoung, then kicks a chair out of his way as he leaves the cafe. in the wake of the confrontation, seonghwa turns to look at the manager and creases his eyebrows in apology, bowing multiple times to the other employees and customers too.

the manager nods wryly, “you and your friends are still going to have to leave.”

“we understand,” seonghwa replies, beginning to usher hongjoong and wooyoung towards the exit. “we’re truly sorry.”

as the five of them walk out, his eyes dart around anxiously in case your boyfriend and his friends are still lingering around. muscles taut and on edge, seonghwa makes a decision as the oldest. “let’s go home,” he declares, “we can wait there.”

they pile into the jeep wordlessly and san turns on the ignition, pulling out of the small car park and heading back to his. they’re only a few minutes away when wooyoung breaks the silence, “so who’s gonna tell y/n that her boyfriend’s a fucking asshole and that she needs to break up with his sorry ass?” he fumes. “because if no one’s going to do it, then i’m going to tell her the moment we get home.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa starts.

“no, don’t wooyoung me,” he snaps. “he’s a fucking pretentious dickhead and she needs to know that. i don’t even care if we don’t ever get to talk about that other thing with her anymore. all i care is that he never gets to show his face in front of her ever again.”

seonghwa rubs his temples in frustration. he argues, “look, i agree with you and i’m not saying we shouldn’t tell y/n. but we need to put our feelings aside and think about this rationally, otherwise we could end up hurting her.”

“i think she’s going to get hurt regardless of how we approach it,” hongjoong snarks as the other levels him with a look.

“the campfire night is only a few days away,” yeosang points out. “maybe we should wait until that’s over…you know how excited she and mingi get about it each year.”

hongjoong protests, “and wait for her to bring johnny along on the day? sorry, but not even seonghwa is going to be able to stop me from sucker-punching him to the ground.”

“surely she’s not going to bring him. it’s a day just for us,” yeosang frowns.

san feels their questioning gazes settling on him and he glances in the rearview mirror to confirm his hunch. “i don’t know, probably not?” he answers whilst shrugging, turning into the small street that leads to your house. “but honestly? i think we should wait until after that day to talk to her. i don’t see the point in ruining it for any more of us.”

seonghwa agrees and adds on, “and only one of us should have the conversation with her. san, you’re probably the best person out of us.”

san hums in agreement, slowly braking the car to a stop before he turns in his seat to look at the rest of them. “i’ll find a time to talk to her and in the meantime,” he looks at wooyoung and hongjoong gently, knowing how frustrated they must be feeling, “we wait.”

there’s only a few more days until the campfire– they only need to hold out for a little longer until then. what could possibly go wrong?

“are you sure it’s a good idea to leave hongjoong and y/n to get the snacks together?”

seonghwa tenderly thumbs yeosang’s lips from out of his teeth, where he has been biting the corner of his lips in worry, and answers, “he’s hopeless at buying all the other things and she knows what snacks we like the best.” seonghwa knows hongjoong’s way of being confrontational is stark and direct, but he also has faith in the other that he won’t prematurely bring up your boyfriend and risk hurting you with the conversation.

you make your way down the snack aisles of the grocery store with hongjoong and it feels both familiar and foreign. there are no shopping cart races or invisible finish flags this time– only the two of you and the baskets in his hands as he carries whatever you pluck off the shelves. it’s been a while since you’ve had time alone with hongjoong; not since the incident last summer.

looking down at the shopping baskets, you put another packet of banana crisps in before commenting, “let’s get some sweet things and then that should be enough for the ten of us.”

hongjoong cocks his head, “haneul’s coming?”

“...no,” you look at him carefully, “johnny is.”

“johnny? you’re joking.”

you frown at the sudden coldness in his tone, “he’s my boyfriend, hongjoong.” johnny had been strangely adamant about going today and you had also noticed he seemed to be irritated about something. so quite frankly, you weren’t about to tell him no.

“and he’s also an asshole, you know that? why are you even dating him?”

you know your boyfriend and your friends still aren’t on amicable terms, but you’re honestly getting tired of feeling like you have to justify yourself and your dating life. and considering you have just had a talk with johnny to try and make things better for everyone, you can’t help but feel like you are being pushed into a corner yet again.

“asshole or not, at least he’s honest about his feelings for me,” you retort pointedly.

“oh?” hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, “is that what this is about?”

you challenge him with a glare, “what do you think i’m implying?”

“so i’m the bad guy now? i thought you liked me. since when did you stoop so low as to throw yourself at any guy who makes a move on you?”

your jaw drops. “you know what? what the fuck is your problem?” you shove his chest in anger. “let’s not forget that you were the one who tried to kiss me first and you were the one who also stopped. yeah, i did like you, but at least i’m willing to admit it.”

you step in closer, breathing heavy as you continue heatedly, “what about you? what the fuck have you done that makes you think you have any right to say that my decisions are wrong.”

hongjoong grits his teeth, “you’re making a mistake dating him.”

“yeah, you would know something about mistakes,” you throw back sarcastically. “but then again, you were probably happy to pretend it never happened and forget about it.”

“don’t fucking put words into my mouth,” he warns.

“it seems to be the only way i can get you to talk about us. you have no issues giving me shit about my relationship with my boyfriend, but when it comes to our relationship it’s radio silence for a year.”

hongjoong at least has the decency to look guilty when he declares, “i was going to talk to you about it face to face.”

“whatever, hongjoong. it’s too late,” you brush him off.

you snatch the baskets out his hands and walk away, no longer concerned over what snacks the boys will have for the campfire later tonight. you just want to get away from hongjoong, so you do exactly that. you leave him alone in the aisle to stare at the view of your back walking further away from him. life is all about timing and hongjoong has long missed his.

hours later, mingi scans the room from where he’s perched on a stool at the kitchen island in your house. everyone is either lounging around, preparing the meat and cutlery or setting up the grill and table outside– everyone except for one.

“where’s hongjoong?” he asks nobody in particular. he doesn’t think he’s seen the other since they’ve all come back from the grocery store.

“he’s resting in my room,” san answers. “said he wasn’t feeling too well but he’ll join us later.”

you roll your eyes at the knives you’re counting out, opting to keep your mouth shut. what san doesn’t say either, though, is that he knows something is off– hongjoong was completely fine this morning and you were definitely in higher spirits.

there’s an abrupt knock at your front door and you put the cutlery down, saying, “i’ll get it.” you know it’s probably johnny so you don’t bother squinting through the peephole before pulling the door open and blinking, “you look nice today.”

your boyfriend has styled his hair so that it slicks back from his forehead, parted down the right side of his scalp. he’s dressed in his usual smart casual fit but has chosen to pair it with accessories to accentuate his collarbones and wrists. he shrugs, “wanted to look good.”

you lead him to the open kitchen and immediately, you notice the shift in the air. a few of the boys give a tight-lipped smile in acknowledgement, but the expressions on wooyoung and san, and even yeosang and seonghwa go blank or two shades darker. hongjoong’s uncharacteristic cold feet suddenly makes a lot of sense to san now.

“you invited johnny?” san’s question is eerily monotone. a blunt knife may not be able to cut through rope, but with continuous abrasion and chafing, even the thickest of ropes will eventually sever.

your voice is not entirely friendly when you reply, “yes, san. i invited my boyfriend.”

“and why the fuck did you do that?”

san’s swearing has you reeling in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by pent-up stress and anger that has been lingering for weeks and exacerbated by your argument with hongjoong mere hours ago. your entire body starts to heat up when san continues to criticise, “we’ve put up with him for long enough, don’t you think? it’s one thing for you to date him of all people, but it’s another thing to bring him to this.”

you laugh bitingly, no longer concerned about trying to deal with this maturely. all you can think about is how san is hurting you and how you want to hurt him back too. “so you can bring whoever the fuck you want each year, but i can’t bring my own boyfriend?” you retort.

the silence is deafening. nobody moves as they try to process the words that have just been thrown at them. yunho’s eyes are wide with confusion more than hurt at how quickly this argument has escalated, and he slowly raises his arms out in front of him, “okay, i think we all need to–”

“whoever the fuck–are we just ‘whoever’ to you?” wooyoung harshly interrupts. “we’ve been trying to look out for you and this is what we fucking get in return?”

you know that you won’t be able to take your words back after you say them, but they slip out anyway as you counter, “i didn’t ask any of you to look out for me.”

yunho’s arms fall limply to his sides and seonghwa looks away. wooyoung’s words are resigned and stony when he stares at you dead in the eye and says, “you know, y/n. we needed this trip this summer…more than anything. but thanks for ruining it for all of us.” then he brushes past your shoulder and slams the front door on his way out.

one by one, the boys follow him out of your house– first yeosang, then seonghwa, neither of them able to look you in the eye. when yunho and jongho hesitantly walk past you as well, they give you a small, apologetic wince.

mingi still stands in the room. he has been quiet throughout the entire argument but his eyes tell a story of a million words. he’s filled with hurt and sorrow if not obvious by the wetness that starts to well in his eyes. “i guess you were just saying it when you told me i have a home here with you in namhae,” he chokes out.

your own eyes grow hot as you shake your head, “mingi, that’s not–”

but he leaves before you can say anything else. turning back towards the interior of your house– now looking far too spacious and vast without one of your friends occupying every available surface– you are left alone with just san and johnny. the heat of the fight is quickly slipping away, instead rushing all towards your eyes, and you call out san’s name. what for, you don’t know, but your cry is timid and desperate.

as much as it pains san to make a decision, mingi needs him– his boys need him, and they are his priority now. right there and then, san discovers for himself his final answer when it comes to choosing between love and friendship. he walks out of your house, turning his back on you.

you jolt awake feeling disorientated. your head feels clouded, eyes blurry from swelling and you’re still in the clothes from last night that you don’t recall falling asleep in. reaching for your phone, you wonder whether it has already ticked past noon for you to have woken up on your own, except you find that its dead. you roll over with a groan and plug your phone into its charger, then haul yourself upwards.

you rinse the stale taste out of your mouth before walking out to the living room and immediately, you’re hit with the memories and intense emotions of last night. there are packets of raw meat still unopened and bottles of soju still littering the table that you hadn’t tidied up. in the aftermath of the argument, you had told johnny to give you some space and to go home. you had then gone straight to your bedroom, covering yourself with the blankets in an attempt to hide yourself from the world and cried out your sorrows until you exhausted yourself to sleep.

you let out a long and heavy sigh, soul still exhausted to the very core, so you turn back towards your bedroom. you’ll clean everything up when you’re feeling a little more confident to face the consequences of last night. sitting on the edge of your bed, you reach for your phone. there are a few texts from johnny that you scroll past when something else catches your eye.

it’s a text from jongho, timestamped for 1:17 am. you and the boys rarely have a reason to message each other individually, preferring to use the group chat since there are no secrets shared. although, you suppose, none of you will be using the group chat for a while…

you tap on jongho’s notification. instantly, your heart drops all the way to the bottom of your stomach and past it. you think your heart is down in the fucking ground, because–

hey, wasn’t sure if you’d want to know or not but i think we’re going back to seoul in the morning

the numbers in the corner of your phone tell you that it’s already eleven thirty, and that’s when you hear it– the noise that had woken you up earlier. the distinct slam of a car boot closing shut. you jolt up to your feet, panic coursing through your veins as blood rushes to your ears and drowns out all rational thoughts. you forgo any shoes and throw your front door open to run outside, uncaring of the grit that digs painfully into the soles of your feet.

a brief flash of relief flickers across jongho’s face at your appearance but you miss it in your frenzy to make sense of what you are seeing. all three of their cars are parked in a line, their surfboards already strapped and secured to the car hoods or in the bed of the ute. the last of their luggage and duffel bags are being loaded and san is locking his front door.

every summer, the boys wait until the last possible second to leave, to the point where you have to forcibly push them towards their cars with fond laughter. it’s only thursday today and summer doesn’t end for another three days, and yet–

“you guys are leaving?” you ask apprehensively.

nobody answers you immediately. the only sound that punctuates the silence is the forceful slam of a door as wooyoung enters the car. hongjoong accidentally makes eye contact with you and his eyes narrow before he opens the door to his ute and also disappears.

jongho clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we’re heading back early.”

“oh…” you’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to react to this situation. “drive safe.”

like a parallel of last night, the boys enter their respective cars one by one, jongho giving you a subtle wave. guilt stifles you for the things you have said to the boys and you’re also consumed by hurt from the things they have said to you. but you know for certain that you cannot just let this friendship fall through the cracks like this.

as san makes his way to his jeep, which is parked at the front of the line as the lead driver, you watch carefully for any sign that things are still salvageable for your friendship. a smile, a glance, a nod– anything. but he simply pulls his jeep door open like you are invisible.

you hesitantly ask him, “i’ll see you next summer?”

san is expressionless but he may as well be glaring at you when he replies, “don’t count on it,” and for the second time of your life, he turns his back on you.

as san buckles his seatbelt in, trying his goddamn hardest to pretend he doesn’t see the tears now beginning to fall from your eyes, he tells himself that you’ve made your decision and he’s made his. he has chosen his priorities and will give you up, and yet, still he hopes that one day you’ll realise you deserve better and break up with johnny. san hopes that you’ll come across somebody more than better, even if it cannot be him.

before yunho also gets into the jeep, he pauses in front of you. he fists the sides of his pants to stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears away. instead, he consoles, “i think we all just need a little bit of time, yeah?”

you nod numbly at his words. you’re forced to take several steps back out of the way after yunho also shuts his door closed and the engines hum to life in succession. unable to do anything, you can only watch helplessly as san’s jeep starts to pull away and the other two cars also follow.

“they’re finally leaving, huh.”

there’s only one person who would have amusement laced into those words. refusing to turn around in your state, you exhale shakily, “not now, johnny.”

“you honestly need better friends. everyone has a stick up their ass in that group,” he comments.

“i said not now,” you warn again, blinking the rest of your tears away when you feel anger creeping up in its stead.

“i should’ve just punched them when i had the chance to.”

you whip around to face him and yell, absolutely appalled, “johnny!”

“what?” he scowls. “they were the ones who started it.”

you grow deathly still. “started what?” you interrogate, and when he doesn’t let up, you step in closer. “johnny?”

“look, i ran into some of them the other day. that little fucker–wooyoung? he was basically asking to be punched. he’s lucky i let him off the hook,” he sneers.

you’ve known wooyoung longer than you have known johnny and you honestly find your boyfriend’s recount hard to believe. yes, wooyoung is hot-headed and rash, but he never reacts unless he has been provoked. or in other cases, his loved ones have been provoked.

“don’t you fucking dare call my friends fuckers,” you growl. is this who your boyfriend truly is? is this the person who your friends have been able to see through all this time?

“are you fucking serious right now?” johnny spits in your face, “you’re defending them? you always take their fucking side even though i’m your boyfriend.”

you spit right back, “and you know what? that was my biggest mistake. i should have never made you my boyfriend.”

johnny’s expression drops entirely. “are you breaking up with me right now?”

“yes, i am.” you confirm. “we’re over.”

you turn on your heel and for once, you are glad that he has shown up at your house, because it means you are a mere ten feet away from shutting your now-ex out of your life. you fumble with the door, vision rapidly blurring, then walk through and close it behind you. slowly, you lean back against the door. with nothing grounding you anymore, the tears escape your eyes once more and you don’t bother trying to hold back your cries.

all too fast, everything has come to a full circle of hurt. johnny turned his back on your friends, your friends turned their backs on you, and you have now turned your back on johnny. your chest shudders and heaves at the realisation, wondering where it all went wrong.

you want to seek out one of the boys for comfort– seonghwa or san– but you only end up dropping to your hands and knees, head dizzy from how hard you begin to sob, when you realise that that’s no longer an option. you all need time apart, both yourself and the boys. you know. but it’s much easier for them because they are going back to seoul together as their group of eight. they still have each other to lean on for comfort, whereas you are left behind to nurse your own wounds by yourself.

in the quiet of your house with the end of summer approaching in namhae, for the first time since meeting san, you are truly alone. it no longer feels like the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring. instead, it’s you against the world…and the eight of them.

haneul takes all but one look at you before she’s making herself comfortable on your couch, tugging a cushion into her lap and patting the space beside her with a commanding air of authority. her expression tells you that there’s no room for argument, so you sink into the couch next to her.

the bewilderment must be obvious on your face when she asks you to spill what happened with san, because she simply reveals, “san messaged the family chat when he arrived back in seoul. and we all know he would give up surfing before voluntarily leaving namhae early.”

you slouch in on yourself, “we fought.”

as surprising as it is to hear, since she’s never seen you and san argue before, haneul had an inkling that that was the case after her little brother’s vague reasons. she probes, “about what?”

you tell her about everything. how you started dating johnny, how the boys came early for the summer and how you tried to get them on friendly terms. how your friends were constantly telling you to break up with him and how your boyfriend was always unhappy about you spending time with them. you tell her about the near-kiss with hongjoong last summer and the confrontation you had with him this summer. the argument you had with all the boys and the break up with johnny. everything.

haneul’s quiet for a while as she tries to piece together your story and her own thoughts. “did they ever tell you why they were so against you dating him?” she finally questions.

you shake your head and she asks, “then did you try talking to them about it?”

you slowly shake your head again, slightly ashamed by your own answer. you had been so focused on finding fault in the different ways the boys could have expressed their disapproval regarding your boyfriend that you didn’t think of the multiple opportunities you had to work out why those opinions existed in the first place.

“what do you think of it all, then? obviously, you would have broken up with johnny for a reason–or did the criticism from the boys just become too much?

fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you look down at your lap. “he was a decent guy…up until summer and the boys came over. that’s when he started acting differently and,” you pause, trying to find a nicer phrase before giving up and settling on, “became an asshole.”

she nods, waiting as you elaborate, “he became more overbearing and possessive, especially when i was hanging out with them when he wasn’t present. and he was just always so pissed. he was dead serious about getting into a physical fight with wooyoung. and we both know that none of the boys would ever start a fight for no reason, much less a fistfight, so johnny had to be the instigator.”

the way that you are solely picking out the faults of your ex does not go unnoticed by haneul. “y/n,” she stares at you seriously. “are you upset about your break up, or your argument with the boys?”

her question stuns you because it’s quite obviously both, but she stops your reflexive response with the instruction, “think about it before you answer me.”

you close your mouth and look at your lap again to actually process your own thoughts and feelings. what are you thinking and feeling? johnny…you had sort of known already that he would not be a constant in your life for much longer. from the moment you had started comparing him against the other boys, it was already the beginning of the end.

but san and the others? they are and have been the sun to your solar system for years; your providers of vitality, warmth and summer who you cannot live without. there’s a constant, gravitational pull that keeps you all together, except the balance has now been thrown off entirely. you realise what the answer was all along and you quietly admit, “the argument.”

she places a hand over yours, comfortingly stroking your knuckles as she sympathises, “i think so too.”

promptly, you feel your eyes pricking with the sting of tears and in a moment of fragile vulnerability, you plead to haneul in a shaky voice, “what am i going to do without them?”

“come here,” she whispers.

she pulls you into her, your body immediately going slack in her embrace. you cling onto her like a lifeline, afraid that you are going to drown in your cries of anguish. you don’t know how long you stay buried in her chest grieving for the friendships you have lost, but your neck and back are sore with stiffness by the time you calm down. still, she doesn’t let go of you– not until you make the first move to pull away.

haneul continues to stroke your hair, soft shushing noises as she rocks you back and forth with her. when your shuddering breaths have resided and steadied out, she breaks the silence softly, “y/n, i think there’s more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you’ve lost your closest friends.”

your throat is scratchy when you mumble, “what do you mean?”

“i can’t tell you because that’s something that you’re going to have to work out for yourself. but after you figure out your own feelings, talk to them. communication is the first step to solving any problem, and i think you’ve realised just how much miscommunication could have been avoided leading up to the argument.”

you know she’s right, but your chest shrivels up on itself in fear. “what if they don’t answer my messages or calls? what if they really don’t come back next summer?” what if they hate me forever?

haneul rests her cheek on the crown of her head, “if they take a step back, then why don’t you take two steps forward?”

her words slowly sink in and when they do, you inch out of her embrace. haneul cannot help the smile that adorns her own face in tandem with the one that starts to peek out along your lips. your face is still red and blotchy but there is now a ray of emerging hope as your voice trails off, “you mean…”

“yes, y/n,” haneul nods. you feel goosebumps spreading across your body when she affirms your thoughts.

“go to seoul and talk to them.”

summer passes and autumn comes. the days grow shorter as the nights become longer and the weeks blur into a haze of monochrome darkness. the leaves and flowers fall off the trees, nature gradually stagnating and waning into nonexistence, much like the groupchat you share with the boys that has remained untouched since summer.

in a feverish state of resolution the very same day you had cried in haneul’s arms, you had booked an express bus trip that would take you directly from namhae to seoul. yet, despite telling yourself every weekend that you’ll make the trip, the ticket remains unused. whenever you see your last message to san– a meek question asking if he had arrived back in seoul fine– that continues to stay unread, your courage crumples and you reschedule the date for the following weekend.

the cycle repeats itself well into autumn. that is, until he breaks it.

you’ve spent the last few days thinking about this very moment. there are only a few minutes left until midnight, which will mark the end of jongho’s birthday. you’re unable to count the number of times you have opened his chat, typed out a message, then exited without actually sending it.

currently, the text cursor in jongho’s chat blinks back at you like your own indecisiveness wavering back and forth between messaging him and not. the minute ticks over once more– it’s now or never. you let your thumbs skim across the surface of your phone before you can contemplate any further. it’s a simple message; only reading two lines.

happy birthday jongho how have you been?

really, you mean ‘how have you all been?’ because you cannot care about one of them without also caring about the others.

you lock the screen and toss your phone to the side, pretending you don’t care whether he replies or not, as if your phone is capable of sensing anxiousness and will sabotage his incoming messages– that is, if any come at all. but jongho’s last messages to you had been the ones alerting you that he and the boys would be leaving namhae prematurely. surely an indicator that this friendship isn’t entirely lost.

the lecture slides on your laptop may as well be written in a foreign language as you restlessly eye your phone, wondering if he has seen your messages. you know it will be fruitless to continue studying, so you steel yourself for disappointment and reach for your phone. to your surprise, there’s a reply waiting for you.

thanks y/n, i’ve been good

it’s simple and only five words, but that in itself speaks volumes to your relationship. your heart skips a beat when the messages in his chat shift upwards once more as a new text comes in like an afterthought.

i miss you

really, jongho means ‘we all miss you’ because you can be angry at someone, feel hurt by them, yet still love them all the same.

his confession stuns you frozen, your fingers hovering in place over your keyboard. it fills you with longing for more and hope for what may come, but also fear for what could happen. jongho has taken a small step to meet you halfway and you are absolutely terrified of messing things up once more. with your heart pounding in your chest, you carefully type out your next message, send it and then hold your breath.

can we call?

your fingers repetitively trace the rim of your phone case back and forth as you wait for a reply. there’s a rising swell of panic that continues to grow when nothing comes and you even exit and reopen the app. what you don’t know is that jongho almost trips onto his face in his hurry to untangle his legs from out of his blanket so that he can lock himself in the bathroom to call you without waking the others.

the phone nearly falls out of your grasp when the screen suddenly lights up not with a message but a call. you let it ring for a few seconds to gather your own composure before sliding the button to nervously answer, “hello?”

“hello?” comes jongho’s reply.

your voices overlap as you both simultaneously talk, “can you hear me–” “hi–yes, can you hear me?”

“yeah, i can hear you too, hi,” you breathe out, face breaking out into a smile.

the exchange has jongho letting out a giggle and the sound immediately releases all the tension that has built up in your body. your eyes start to mist over as you let out your own bashful laughter, because it is so much more than just missing the sound of jongho’s happiness. you’re reminded of crashing waves and windswept fringes; heavy surfboards and helping hands– the summer days when everything was happier and simpler. how did everything end up the way it has?

“thank you for replying to my message, jongho,” your voice is unsteady.

he must hear the way your throat threatens to close in on itself, because his voice is warm-hearted when he tells you, “no, thank you for reaching out first.” and as much as he finds it difficult to express himself, his next words spill out easily. “sorry i didn’t do it first…it must have been hard for you all this time.”

and just like that, so comes the first of many owed apologies. it doesn’t matter that you have to be awake in five hours to make it to your first lecture, nor that you don’t have a perfected script for all the things you want to apologise for. and it doesn’t matter that jongho is starting to feel cold sitting on the bathroom floor, nor that he can’t hold you like he wants to do. what does matter is that you’re both talking again.

as the night grows older, the conversation eventually flows away from raw confessions of your hearts to familiar topics of your mundane lives. it feels like the normal phone calls you used to have with the boys, except this time it’s only with jongho.

“what about you? have you been busy?”

you nod, even though he can’t see you over the call, “i’m trying to keep up with classes but it’s hard with all the assignments due soon.”

“yeah, i have another huge film project and it’s taking up all of my time, too,” he exhales, then tentatively asks, “what about…how’re things with johnny?”

it’s strangely exciting to clarify, “we actually broke up a few months ago.”

you can hear jongho’s sharp inhale even from over the phone. the conspiratorial tone of his voice painfully reminds you of wooyoung’s nosiness as jongho asks, “please tell me you broke up with him and not the other way round.”

“yes, i broke up with him,” you chuckle. “he talked shit about you guys the moment you all left, so i dumped him.”

“he deserved it,” he gleefully states.

“only i get to mess with my friends…literally.”

the joke is at the expense of yourself, but it feels uplifting to be able to start laughing about it now that you have started making amends, even if it is only with one person so far. knowing you have somebody on your side makes all the difference in the world.

“it’s actually sort of funny you say that,” jongho muses over the phone. “remember that truth or dare question? the one about choosing between love and friendship?”

you hum in affirmation, “san and i picked love.”

“and look at you, picking us over johnny,” he teases.

huffily, you banter, “picked you guys even though you all left me.”

there’s the tinkle of laughter from over the receiver, but it’s cut short by a faint knock. you hear jongho murmuring to somebody before his voice becomes audible again, “hey, sorry, i need to go now. someone needs to use the bathroom.”

you resist the urge to ask why he’s even there in the first place, but you just tell him that it’s okay, considering how late the time is anyway.

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow,” you affirm. the wide smile on your face makes your cheeks ache as you grip the phone to your ear and wait for him to hang up. you hear the sound of rustling as he stands up and turns the doorknob, then there’s a voice in the background asking, “is that y/n?”

but before you can try to discern who the voice belongs to, the call ends. you don’t let the slight disappointment dampen your spirits though and you fall back to lie on top of your bed. jongho’s last words to you have made you feel like a giddy teenager– tomorrow feels too far away.

but his words before his last words also make you feel like a teenager. only it’s not giddiness but the uncertainty and confusion that comes with adolescence as you try to navigate and understand your own feelings about something. in the face of the situation, had you truly chosen friendship over love contrary to your own expectations?

it makes sense at first to think that’s what has happened, but you’re suddenly reminded of haneul’s words– that there is more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you have lost your closest friends, and that you need to figure out your own feelings before talking to the boys. if you have stood by your own values and chosen love over friendship, then that means…the heartbreak that you feel is grief not for lost friendship, but loss of your first loves– because you are in love with all of them.

that spark of feelings that had remained for the boys had never become fully extinguished. when you agreed to date johnny, perhaps it was only because he had reminded you of them and you had mistaken the flutters in your stomach for romantic attraction to him. and so, left unattended, that very spark has now flourished into a wildfire that can no longer be controlled, neither can it be contained– it’s time for you to talk to them.

you pick up your phone again and send out a message, this time with no hesitation. it reads, ‘i need your help’.

and the reply is immediate.

anything you need

it’s the first day of winter when you arrive in seoul.

you get off the express bus at the terminal with both hands empty and only the bag on your back; you don’t plan on staying for long so you didn’t bring much with you. immediately, your breath fogs up in the frigid air and you nestle more snugly into the warmth of your coat. there’s a reasonable crowd of people at the terminal, so you crane your neck in search of jongho’s familiar tuft of brown hair, who had offered to pick you up knowing that this was your first time travelling up to seoul.

the last text he had sent told you that he had arrived and was waiting for you at terminal six. as you make your way closer, eyes squinting to discern whether you are seeing things correctly, you think you’re able to make out jongho’s side profile leaning against a brick wall.

except, he’s not alone. your footsteps start to falter because seonghwa is also there. ironically, he’s the one who spots you from afar. he pushes himself away from the wall and turns his body towards you as jongho questions whether he has spotted you.

ever since the night he had overheard the younger on a phone call with you, seonghwa has been aching to make things right with you again. he had been afraid that you would want nothing to do with them anymore and that you would slip away from their fingers just like that. but here you are in seoul, just a mere distance away from him.

seonghwa’s eyes start to water and your expression crumples almost immediately with his when he opens his arms with an offer of an embrace. his feet rush to close the distance when you throw yourself into his chest, the cashmere of his coat rubbing softly against your cheek.

“i’m sorry, hwa” you murmur.

“i know,” he whispers, stroking the back of your head, “me too.”

jongho silently watches with a small smile and allows you both to have your moment of reconciliation with each other. as you breathe in the comfortingly familiar scent of seonghwa’s cologne, you gesture for the other to come closer so that you can pull him into a group hug. and here, surrounded by both of them, despite there being several other things you want to say– poems of apologies and ballads of confessions– for now, this is more than enough.

seonghwa is the first to pull away suddenly as if he has been electrocuted. “hang on, are you and johnny still…” he trails off.

despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, you’re touched by his thoughtfulness to maintain respectful boundaries. “don’t worry, we broke up,” you reassure him, then you jokingly turn to jongho with an incredulous look. “you told him i was coming up to seoul, but didn’t tell him that johnny’s my ex now?”

he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “that wasn’t in my place to reveal. plus, seonghwa was the one who looked over my shoulder and saw your text asking for my help.”

said man pretends to walk away innocently. you and jongho laugh, trailing after him towards the carpark as you ask, “what was he doing in your dorm anyway?”

“he crashed for the night. our dorm’s close to his workplace.”

when you reach their parked car, seonghwa tugs the passenger door open, but instead of hopping in he gestures for you to go first. you indulge in his chivalry with a chuckle, even more so when he places a hand along the top of the door frame in case you bump into it.

“thanks, hwa,” you say sweetly, shuffling in further when he scoots in after you and leaves jongho alone to sit at the front of the car.

“great, not even ten minutes of making up with each other and i’ve already become the third wheel,” jongho grumbles as he turns the ignition on.

despite the huffiness in his voice, jongho’s heart sings with happiness to see you and seonghwa already getting along like normal. he is willing to be the third wheel– even the ninth wheel– if it means that you and his boys can shine together every day. but for that to happen, it all rests on how the next hour unfolds.

“ready to go?” jongho asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror.

are you? are you ready to talk to all of the boys at the same time? seonghwa gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and jongho nods at you reassuringly from the front; you’re not going into this alone anymore. you nod, “i’m ready.”

the drive takes less than thirty minutes and before you know it, you’re standing right outside the door to jongho’s shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. jongho swipes and unlocks the door with his access card, however makes no move to push the door open. the fact that neither of the boys say anything to rush you spurs you on with enough determination to enter the dorm. the volume of their chatter increases immediately without the barrier of the door, and you take slow, hesitant steps along the short hallway towards the direction of the sound.

you appreciate when jongho takes the lead to subtly show you where to go but it still feels like you are intruding– which, you technically are, considering two out of three people who live here don’t know that you’re in the dorm right now. rounding the corner of the hallway, you discover that it leads straight to the living room where all of the boys currently are. so it’s fucking awkward when the sight of you emerging completely kills the conversation and a collective hush settles over the room.

you have to fight everything within you not to turn on your heel and just flee, because nothing has prepared you for their initial reaction. you hate the fact that you cannot tell whether the shocked expressions on yunho and yeosang’s faces are ones of delight or displeasure. you hate the way that wooyoung and hongjoong’s bodies tense and become guarded, ready to tell you to leave their dorm. but more than anything, you hate the way that san and mingi cannot even look at you.

“holy shit,” yunho whispers.

that’s enough to set off the others and hongjoong angrily questions, “what the fuck is she doing here?”

wooyoung looks at jongho, “is this why you told everyone to come over?”

you defend, “i was the one who asked jongho for help.”

“i wasn’t talking to you–”

you cut wooyoung off, contrary to your next words, “can you just shut the fuck up for once? i’m not here to start another fight. just–hear me out, please. i’ll leave as soon as i say what i need to.”

he glares at you and everybody holds their breath as they steel themselves for another full-blown argument. but wooyoung does as you ask and folds his arms angrily. nobody speaks, waiting for you to talk as you finally put your bag down and sit a safe distance away.

you close your eyes and take a breath to compose yourself. you refuse to let yourself cry this time. you’ve done plenty of that in the last few months and you have finally come to terms with your own feelings. “i…i’m sorry,” you start.

somebody scoffs, but you ignore it and let the words from your heart take over. “i’m sorry for being such an asshole over the summer–for letting my ex get in between us and for ignoring all the times you told me he wasn’t a good guy. i shouldn’t have assumed that you were all okay with me bringing him along whenever we hung out and i should have asked before inviting him to the campfire. that was something special for us and it was selfish of me to do that.

“in particular, i’m sorry for how that night went down. i know it doesn’t excuse what i did, but i had an argument with hongjoong earlier that day and i was feeling strung tight. i wish i had handled the situation better when i felt confronted about bringing johnny along, and i acknowledge that the words i said can’t be taken back, even if i didn’t mean them.”

nobody needs reminding of the words that you are referring to, because it has sat just as heavily in their hearts as it has your own. the sight of mingi ducking his head down even further has your heart clenching painfully.

even if he isn’t looking, you apologise to him directly, “mingi, i’m sorry we never got to finish our talk. i know that you were going through a hard time and that that trip was meant to be something healing for you–for all of you. namhae was meant to be an escape, but it probably didn’t feel that way…because of me. i mean it when i say you’ll always have a home in namhae and i hope that one day, you’ll be able to trust me on that. in fact, i hope that you all know that namhae is not the same without either one of you boys.”

you hesitate, because not even jongho knows about what you’re going to say next. you avert your gaze to focus on the carpet just in front of you so that you don’t have to see their expressions. “it’s taken this fight–almost losing all of you–and breaking up with my ex to realise just how stupid and blind i am to my own feelings. i always thought i would be happy with just being friends…but you are all so, so much more to me than just friends and ‘whoever’. i think i’m in love with all of you and i know it’s unconventional, but…i guess love has no limits.

“but i’m also going to be honest. i’m still hurt by the things some of you said or did. it hurt that some of you criticised my decisions without thinking about how that might have made me feel. and i know it wasn’t your intention to, but i felt like i was being backed into a corner multiple times when you kept repeating the same things over and over again about my ex without any real constructiveness to your words.

“i don’t expect you to apologise right now, nor accept my apology, and i don’t expect any of you to respond to my confession. i want you all to have enough time to work out your own feelings…if you want to. if you find it in your heart to forgive me and if you want to apologise, pursue friendship again or…maybe something more, then come to namhae and tell me in person.”

there’s half a year left until summer, and as much as things can change in six months, you also hope that this gives you and the boys time to work out what you all truly want from one another– be it friendship or love. nobody moves or says anything, trying to process everything you have said so you decide to leave them to it, having done your part. you make a move to stand and sling your bag onto your back.

“you’re leaving already? where are you going?” yeosang abruptly asks, standing as well.

“back to namhae,” you explain. “i booked a return ticket for the same day.”

san frowns and for the first time since you arrived, he looks at you. “you came all the way here…just to talk to us for half an hour?”

you give him a bittersweet smile, “that’s how important this is to me–how important you all are to me.”

he looks away, unable to hold your gaze. you turn to jongho to ask if he is still happy to drop you back off at the terminal, who nods and begins to pull on his puffer jacket.

“wait,” yeosang calls out. he skitters off down the corridor, socked feet pattering against the floor as he grabs something from his bedroom and hurries back in front of you. “here.”

he has a thick scarf that he holds out for you to take, but as you start to reach for it, he changes his mind. you hold your breath as yeosang carefully reaches over your head to drape the scarf around you. with tender hands, he wraps it around your neck before securing it with a knot. he continues to fiddle with the ends of the scarf and you’re starting to wonder why he is hesitating when he looks at you shyly and mumbles something under his breath. before you can make a noise of confusion, he darts off once again back into his room. seonghwa cannot help but smile fondly, because even if he is unable to hear what the other said either, he knows what yeosang means purely by his actions.

you’re accompanied out of the door by jongho minutes later, carrying a plastic bag of snacks and drinks from their dorm that seonghwa has rushed to put together for you to have on your way back. when you’re in the car, you also find a pair of black gloves in the pocket of your coat. you have no idea who put it there, but the sentiment of one of the boys trying to ensure you are not cold is enough to fill your entire body with warmth.

you may have arrived in seoul with both hands empty and only the bag on your back, but you leave seoul with their quiet acts of apologies and forgiveness on your hands, neck, and in the plastic bag sitting on your lap as your bus pulls away back to namhae.

a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also stay the same. it all balances on the peak of the fulcrum, waiting to teeter either way as summer arrives.

you’ve kept in touch with jongho and seonghwa, so you haven’t been left in the dark anxiously wondering whether they will be returning to namhae or not. but even with their arrival, the uncertainty remains as to which way the scale has– or will tip.

so you don’t walk out to greet them when you hear the resounding slam of shutting doors and the low hum of exchanged conversation, because you don't know whether the other boys want to see you or not. plus, there’s something embarrassing about seeing them for the first time after apologising, much less confessing to them without any certainty as to their feelings, and much much less to eight people at once. you’re doing a pretty good job at hiding and pretending you are completely oblivious to their arrival in namhae.

that is, until mingi knocks on your door. mingi feels like he’s fourteen again, knocking on yunho’s door and crossing his fingers hoping to god that it’s his friend who opens it and not his parents, because mingi feels embarrassed asking them every day if yunho can come out to play. this time, though, mingi’s nervous because it’s you and he’s nervous because six months is a long time where feelings can change. he hopes that yours are still the same.

you’re greeted by a shock of platinum white hair when you open your door and you realise it’s mingi with freshly bleached hair. it looks good– a little too good– and you have to force yourself to peel your eyes away. except your eyes travel down involuntarily to the contrasting black of his tank top, which is at least two sizes too large and dips down dangerously to reveal the shadows of his chest. you’re down bad, and it’s only been ten seconds since you’ve laid eyes on him since seoul.

mingi is looking at you amusedly when you finally lock eyes with him and he seems to stand a little straighter with confidence. he beckons with a gentle tilt of his head, “come surf with us?”

the casualness of his invite throws you off and you wonder if you’ve somehow missed the memo that he’s forgiven you. “you’re all okay with me coming?” you blink confusedly.

“the others can speak for themselves,” he puts it plainly, but then smiles, “i want you to come, though. it’s not the same without you. plus,” his voice mellows out earnestly, “someone’s gotta welcome me home, don’t you think?”

home. home is where the heart is, and for mingi, regardless of the arguments and fights, his heart will always be with the boys and you. because in anger, hurt and love, there is always forgiveness, and mingi has forgiven you.

shyly, you return his smile, “i’ll go get changed, then?”

“is that an invite inside?” mingi leans against the doorframe with faux coyness that manages to make the rounds of your cheeks heat up. you shove him back lightly with a laugh, trying to ignore the firmness of his chest under your touch.

he grins boyishly, utterly pleased with himself, but steps back so you can close the door. “take your time,” he reassures. “i’ll wait for you.”

and he does, just so that you don’t have to walk alone to join the rest of the group. even after you have thrown on a swimsuit and slathered yourself with sunscreen as best as you can, mingi is still outside and yunho has also joined him– you know because you can hear them talking as you search for your house keys in the hallway.

“what if it’s too late?” yunho asks.

“you don’t know that, not until you try,” mingi replies. “here, a kiss for good luck.”

you have no idea what the context for this conversation is, but it suddenly strikes you that apart from mingi, you’ve never discussed sexual orientation with the boys. you may have asked them to consider you romantically, but you can’t say for sure if they even like girls. from what you know, none of them have dated before, and now you’re suddenly wondering whether any of the boys are dating within the group. mingi and yunho are certainly a possibility.

but regardless, you realise this is probably not something you should be discovering by overhearing a conversation, so you deliberately drop your keys to alert them of your presence and wait a couple more seconds before you open your front door.

for the second time of the day, you’re absolutely floored. yunho has dyed his hair an ash grey and it falls over his forehead and down the nape of his neck in messy locks. there must have been a fucking enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal, because he’s also wearing a black tank top much like mingi’s, except his is form-fitting and putting every damned muscle of his upper body on glorified display.

not that you’re complaining. but it’s also very distracting when you’re trying to focus on what mingi is saying as you all make your way down the beach towards the shore, their surfboards hiked against their hips.

“you guys go ahead, i think jongho’s calling for me,” mingi suddenly announces before darting off.

you’re left alone with yunho, and from the back of jongho’s head who most definitely doesn’t even know you three have joined the group, mingi’s plan to slip away has succeeded.

“um,” yunho hesitantly starts, “do you want to try paddling out on my board? i’ll stay close.”

the last time you had attempted anything on his shortboard, you had flipped over and swallowed several mouthfuls of salt water. although you’re not particularly keen on repeating the experience, some things don’t need to be spelt out– the reason for his offer. only one foot is needed to push a bicycle into motion, but two feet are needed to keep it in motion. so you nod and let him drag his surfboard towards the shallow waters for you.

as you trail beside him, seonghwa and jongho greet you enthusiastically on their own boards out in the horizon. yeosang waves too from further down the shore and you lose some of the tension in your shoulders when you know that the intention behind his scarf was not misinterpreted. only san and wooyoung do not directly acknowledge your presence, but unbeknownst to you, the younger is carefully observing your interactions with the others.

“here,” yunho says, garnering your attention.

he holds the surfboard steady in the water, waiting for you to lie on top. his hands stay even after you gingerly shift and balance your weight onto your front. with his guidance, you slowly paddle out past the rush of whitewater waves. yunho is barely waist-deep in the water so he easily manoeuvres you and the board as you try to recall the familiar motion of paddling against incoming swells. but both of you know that you’re not really trying to paddle and he’s not really watching for mistakes.

eventually, you languidly let the waters caress your body as you still, letting the slight waves gently rock your surfboard. one of yunho’s arms have shifted over your back to support the opposite side of the surfboard and your body tingles whenever his forearm brushes over you. his other hand rests near your own, your fingers grazing together whenever the board dances over a swell.

it is within the serenity and solitude of the ocean, and the warmth and proximity of each other’s presence that the conversation happens. yunho apologises and you forgive. it occurs as simply as that, because actions speak louder than words and you have already shared a library of novels with your bodies.

from afar, wooyoung’s internal debate continues to teeter on its fulcrum as he watches the moment you share with yunho. wooyoung may be fast to talk, but he is also keen to observe. he sees the glow of relief and happiness returning to the faces of the boys. what he said to you summers ago still stands true– you make the boys happy and it’s obvious they make you happy too. and all wooyoung has ever wanted is to protect the smile of his loved ones, including you.

the radiance of the smile you give when yunho pretends to flip your surfboard over reminds wooyoung of his failure to do just that. in his blindness for the others, he had sacrificed your smile. the scale teeters over the fulcrum and he follows the momentum of his heart to wade out into the waters where you two still are, his apology ready to spill out.

and so you discover that a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also change in one day. with each relationship that stitches back together, rips now reinforced and sturdier than before, namhae almost feels the same again– summer almost feels the same again. you may still have the two hardest conversations left to be resolved, but if more time is what they need, then you are willing to wait for san and–

yunho and wooyoung scramble to steady your surfboard before you actually tip over when you suddenly move to kneel, head whipping around to confirm your fears. you hadn’t initially noticed as the boys had been scattered, intermittently ducking back into the house, but your heart sinks as you count the number of heads again. you’re unable to fight off the dread in your voice when you dare to ask, “where’s hongjoong?”

yunho’s eyes don’t meet yours and wooyoung’s mouth thins out tightly before he cautiously answers you, “he didn’t come.”

san likes to think that he’s patient. ever since he was young, his father had made sure to raise him to wait. wait for elders to eat before picking up his own chopsticks; wait for others to walk through the door before he enters; wait for others to choose their preference before he picks his. and san likes to think that he has diligently applied this principle to his relationships too. wait to understand someone before criticising; wait for his own anger to subside before talking; wait to reflect on his own wrongs before expecting an apology.

but right now, san is impatient. he catches glimpses of the sweet messages you send jongho and seonghwa and the joyous cackles you share with wooyoung when you prank yeosang. he notices the way yunho and mingi are attached to your hips, and san wants all of that and more. he wants to tell you he’s forgiven you and that he’s sorry too; he wants to cup your cheeks and thumb away the phantom tears he caused; he wants to love you.

but his body is acting as if it’s an entirely separate entity from his heart. he’s unable to approach you, even as he watches everyone else do what he wants to and it frustrates him to no end. and it’s as if the gods themselves also became impatient with his pathetic attempts– or lack thereof– because they drop the perfect opportunity right in front of him.

a quick look at his phone tells san that he’s been tossing on the couch for the last two hours. sleep fails to take over, so he hauls himself up and pads softly towards the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he stares out of the window above the sink, where he can just see the stretch of beach towards the right. the moon shines brightly tonight and the rays decorate the sand and sea foam with dreamy tranquillity.

there’s a quiet rustle above the stillness of the night. when san turns around, his heart immediately clenches at the sight. you’re sleepily rubbing the bleariness out of your eye as you shuffle your way into the kitchen. there’s a stray tuft of hair that san wants to reach out and smooth down for you, but he opts to grip his glass of water tighter.

you startle, not having expected someone to be awake and most definitely not san. you had stayed over late into the night watching a movie marathon with the boys, and despite your protests, they had convinced you to crash in haneul’s room. tension doesn’t exist between you and the boys anymore, only awkwardness with san and…avoidance with hongjoong.

“couldn’t sleep?” you murmur, voice unguarded and still thick with sleep.

san shakes his head, “you?”

“got thirsty,” you explain, grabbing a glass from under the counter.

he hums at your answer and then it grows silent again. it’s only after you drowsily blink at him that he realises why you’re not making a move to get water– he’s still standing in front of the sink. san starts to step out of the way but thinks better of it. reaching out to grab your glass, he fills it up with water and then returns it to you.

“thanks, sannie.”

it doesn’t register in your head that the nickname has slipped out. for him, though, it echoes and ricochets in the very caverns of his ribcage. hesitantly, he mutters, “you’re welcome, pipsqueak.”

it tugs a smile out of your lips. “haven’t heard that in a while,” you muse. “kind of miss it.”

and i miss you. san is impatient, and he finally decides that he cannot take it anymore. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers. “i know how badly i hurt you.”

the haze in your eyes immediately fades away at his words and he takes it as a good sign to continue. “i’ll be honest. i hated that the person next to you as your boyfriend wasn’t one of us–wasn’t me, because it didn’t look like he was making you happy at all. and that day you were out working in the field? some of us actually ran into johnny.”

you acknowledge sadly, “seonghwa told me what happened. i’m sorry he was like that.”

“that’s not on you to apologise,” san refutes. “i was the one who asked the boys to keep it from you until we could properly talk after the campfire night, but along with everything that had led up to that point, all my frustrations accumulated without even realising it.”

“i guess that makes the two of us, then. there were arguments you and i both weren’t aware of, and we ended up being the last straw for each other,” you chuckle wryly.

his voice wavers, “i’m meant to be the one person who is always there for you, but i made it feel like you were pitted against the eight of us instead and i’m so sorry for doing that. it should never have been me against you, nor us boys against you. it should have been all nine of us against the problem.”

you can’t help but take the opportunity to tease lightly, “are you calling my ex the problem?”

“exactly that,” he deadpans. “we all did.”

you nod, “thank you for trying to let me know, even when i didn’t listen.”

“no, i’m sorry we didn’t explain ourselves more clearly–or earlier.”

“but you have now, and i understand,” you reassure.

he nods gratefully before hesitating, “there’s something else behind all this that i can’t tell you yet, not without the others here. but when things are…okay with hongjoong again, that’s when we’ll tell you.”

something about his promise tells you that it has to do with the other part of the conversation everyone has been skirting around so far– your confession. faint memories of the interactions observed between the boys last summer and the brief exchange you overheard between yunho and mingi flicker across your mind.

perhaps you should steel yourself for rejection. you don’t dwell on it, though. this may have been the first time your friendship with san had been so close to shattering, but you know that it will take more than the entire universe to completely break you apart; you still trust him– because before it was the nine of you, it was you and san against the world.

“then are we okay now?” you ask, needing the confirmation.

“yeah,” he smiles breathlessly, “more than okay.”

the caverns of san’s dimples– the ones you love so much– shyly peek out to greet you in the faint glow of the moonlight coming in from the window. he reaches out silently and you understand immediately. you intertwine your fingers together.

san wants to ask you to go to bed with him. not to do anything sexual, but to simply hold you against his chest; trace the curve of your nose; wake up to your sleepy smile in the morning. but he can’t, not yet. not until you’ve worked things out with hongjoong, and not until you’ve had a talk together– all nine of you.

he settles for tugging you in the direction of haneul’s bedroom, hand never letting go of yours as he softly ushers, “let me tuck you back into bed.”

and so fifteen years after your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer still takes the form of a sweet, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

your instinctive reaction is to shut the door in hongjoong’s face.

when seonghwa had texted you asking you to open your front door, you had been expecting said man for obvious reasons. so when you pull the door open and see kim fucking hongjoong at your doorstep in fucking namhae instead, of course you slam the door shut. because why the fuck is he here?

“oh shit,” you curse, when it registers in your brain.

hongjoong is here and you’ve just shut the door in his face. if you had even an ounce of collectedness in you, you would realise that the boys’ initial and very much candid reaction of shock to seeing you randomly show up at their dorm in seoul is suddenly very relatable. you yank the door open again.

“sure, why don’t you just go ahead and punch me in the fucking face too,” hongjoong scowls.

immediately, you furrow your eyebrows, “well, if you’re offering…”

“oh, fuck off,” he raises his middle finger at you.

you raise both middle fingers in retaliation, “yeah, back into my house that you’re standing in front of.”

“for god’s sake–kim hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses in exasperation, head poking out of san’s door as he eavesdrops to make sure this exact thing doesn’t happen. “you’re here to apologise!”

hongjoong appears rightfully berated, then he looks at anything but you as he huffs, “can i come in?”

“depends,” you cross your arms defiantly. “are you going to try and kick me out?”

despite the prickliness of the conversation, it almost feels right in a sense. as if there’s no real heat behind your words and you two are back to the easy banter you used to have– before your near-kiss with him. this time, though, seonghwa hisses your name in frustration.

“geez! okay!” you fluster as you step back and open the door wider, letting hongjoong in and away from the prying ears of the older.

you sit tentatively on your couch and he mirrors you, scratching the back of his neck as he perches himself on the edge. it’s awkward and tense when it becomes apparent to the both of you that you’re alone. “i didn’t think you would come,” you break the silence.

he hums softly, “me neither.”

you don’t know how to respond so you don’t, allowing the quiet to settle over your living room once more. eventually, hongjong opens his mouth quietly, “i was–am ashamed of myself.”

you’ve been there before– on the other side of the conversation as the one doing the apologising. you know how difficult it is to be honest about your own emotions, particularly the negative ones, so you wait patiently for him to find the right words.

“i’ve been ashamed ever since the night i tried to kiss you. i was a coward and i did nothing to change it. i only ended up hurting you and i’ve regretted it every single day. i think about why i didn’t talk to you afterwards, why i said those things about you and your ex…why i didn’t just kiss you.”

you can’t help but inhale sharply at his confession, because that can only mean one thing.

hongjoong gathers the courage to look at you as he admits, “i did like you. i still do. but i was an idiot and thought that i was doing the best thing for everybody. i shouldn’t have made that choice for you nor tried to have a say in your love life. i was jealous and i know now how toxic i was being, which is why i was so stubborn about not coming to namhae because i didn’t think my apology would be good enough. so i’m sorry for all the things i said and did, but i’m also sorry that it took me this long to talk to you.”

he looks so uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he timidly asks, “will you forgive me?”

there’s not a moment of hesitation before you’re closing the gap between the two of you on the couch so that you can wrap your arms around him. and in a rare display of vulnerability, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. you comfort, “i forgive you. there are a lot of things i’m ashamed of doing too. but we all make mistakes and that’s what helps us to grow.”

“you still like me?” he mumbles into your neck.

you laugh at the ticklish feeling, “very much so, hongjoong.” because in forgiveness there is love, and you have years of owed love to show the boys.

only when your sides become cramped and your necks become stiff do you finally pull away from each other. as you make eye contact with him though, you’re suddenly reminded of his confession. you know that you will need to have another talk with hongjoong about it, and you still don’t know where the other boys stand in terms of pursuing something romantic with you, but that will be for later. right now, you are content and at peace– the nine of you against the world once more.

“let’s go find the rest of the boys?” you ask.

he grins, holding a hand out to pull you up with him as he answers, “let’s go.”

just as hongjoong puts on his shoes by the doorway, he distractedly questions, “why are these here?”

you frown and follow his line of sight, settling on the top of the cabinet in your hallway where a pair of gloves sit– the ones you had discovered in your coat on your way back to namhae. “you know who they belong to?”

“yeah,” he nods, absentmindedly touching them before walking out the door. “i bought them last year, but they were too big so i gave them to san.”

it was san who hid them in your coat.

you numbly follow his steps outside where the boys have gathered in waiting and are sitting side by side on the embankment, facing the ocean. they are simply living in the moment, basking in the golden rays of sunlight and the warm touch of the person by their side– an arm around a waist; a head on a shoulder. you almost don’t want to disturb them, but you know the seven of them are not complete. not without hongjoong, and not without you.

and as your gaze meets san who smiles at the both of you, his chest swelling with relief, pride and love, you realise that san had bared his heart out to you long before you even knew.

once you fall back into routine with them, it starts to become obvious. the way the boys naturally gravitate towards one another with doting gazes and lingering touches; the casual use of a pet name or flirtatious joke; the shifts in dynamic you had noticed before that seem to extend beyond friendship. it starts to make sense when you realise that that’s exactly the reason– no longer are their relationships purely based on platonic love, but romantic love.

it’s why yunho knocks his forehead against mingi’s just to see him smile, and why san pretends to grumble when wooyoung kisses his cheeks, only to give the younger a proper kiss mere seconds later. it’s why jongho never lets yeosang carry his own surfboard even if he’s just as strong, and it’s why seonghwa and hongjoong like to disappear into the shower together.

but the longer you mull over these interactions for, the more you realise that they don’t seem to be simply ‘paired off’. you notice how jongho refuses to be cuddled but will nestle against seonghwa when he’s tired, and how yunho and yeosang seek out each other’s company before bedtime. you notice how wooyoung squeezes hongjoong’s ass underwater to make him yelp, and how san and mingi are content to just sit together on their surfboards on the sand.

rather than a question of who is with who, it becomes a question of who isn’t with who, and this time, you also find yourself mixed into the equation. but it confuses you whenever they treat you the same and you find yourself holding back despite your feelings, because it’s much harder to tell what kind of love they’re giving you when you yourself yearn for the intimate type.

san notices the change in your demeanour, as small as it may be, and decides it’s time for the talk. so here the nine of you sit on the beach that stretches in front of your houses. the sand is still warm from the sun even as it starts to dip towards the horizon of the sea. yeosang’s jacket lays over your bare legs and a slight breeze tugs delicately at your clothes.

“okay, so who’s telling her?” yunho elbows wooyoung as soon as the words leave the latter’s lips.

“what? how else are we meant to start the conversation?” wooyoung complains before mocking, “the reason i have gathered you all here today–”

rolling your eyes, you cut to the chase, “are you all dating each other?”

wooyoung chokes on his own words and everybody else looks at you with wide eyes.

“how’d you know?” yeosang startles.

seonghwa agrees, “i didn’t think we were that obvious,” but when you simply raise an eyebrow in response, he’s quick to amend, “okay, maybe we were.”

san eyes the others to see if anyone wants to step in and lead the conversation, but when nobody does, he speaks up to explain, “we’ve been dating each other for just over a year now–so before last summer. it took a bit of time to work everything out, establish boundaries and communicate what we wanted from one another, but we’re happy like this.”

“once our relationship had settled down a little, that’s when i came out to my parents,” mingi adds, “which didn’t go down well. we wanted to tell you last summer too, but…other things happened and it all fell through before we could talk about it.”

yeosang meekly scratches the back of his neck as he says, “it’s long overdue, but we’re telling you now.”

the chuckle that comes out of you is light and carefree. “i’m happy for you guys,” you affirm sincerely. “i don’t think there’s anybody else who is more perfect for you guys than each other.”

you truly do. you’re thankful that they have one another and you finally understand how hard it must’ve been for san during your argument to pick a side. his boys were and are his priority and you cannot fault him for putting them first. but then you’re reminded of hongjoong and his confession. are the others aware of his feelings?

said man has the audacity to frown at you in confusion. “why does it sound like you’re just wishing us well?”

“am i not allowed to do that as your friend?” you mirror his expression.

“god,” hongjoong exhales. “do you think we’re telling you this just to reject you?”

“of all people to say that–rub it in my face, why don’t you,” you grumble.

he starts to grasp the situation as he looks at the rest of the boys, “wait, did nobody fucking confess to her apart from me?”

the explosion of responses to his question is immediate.

“you confessed–” “–i thought we agreed to confess together–” “–trust you to cut in line! that’s not fair!”

your eyes dart wildly from side to side, unsure of who to focus on as they all start to passionately talk over one another. at one point, someone tries to chuck a handful of sand in hongjoong’s direction, but it scatters innocuously before it can even get close.

“hold the fuck up,” you yell over the commotion. “confess what?”

“how did you figure out that we’re in a polyamorous relationship but not that the feelings extend to you as well?” yeosang judges you.

“i didn’t want to project my own feelings and misconstrue anything. plus, none of you have actually mentioned liking or dating girls before, so i just…”

“assumed we didn’t have feelings for you,” seonghwa concludes as you laugh awkwardly.

wooyoung deadpans, “we may have wanted to punch your ex in the face for his shitty-ass personality because we were your friends, but we were also jealous as fuck.”

“all of you?” you ask in disbelief.

“all of us. some of us were just better at hiding it,” mingi looks pointedly at the boy sitting on his left.

“you’re one to talk about hiding your feelings,” hongjoong counters before turning to you to expose, “mingi wouldn’t shut up about you after he met you.”

mingi immediately shoves him backwards into the sand.

“look,” jongho cuts in, “what we’re trying to say is that we’ve all liked you for a while now, and if you still feel the same way about us, then we’d like to take our relationship with you to the next step.”

how many times have you wanted this moment– for all of them to return your confession. but now that it’s actually becoming a reality, it’s honestly a little daunting. “you’re all serious about this?”

a lot will change over the next year. most of you will join hongjoong and seonghwa as postgraduates and start full-time work. san will move back to namhae, but whether the others will follow or stay in seoul is unknown. there are a lot of uncertainties regarding the future and the relationship will only work if everyone is serious about making it work.

yunho answers on everyone’s behalf, “we’re very serious.”

you take a moment to look at all of them one by one, only to find the same promise within their gazes– that even if things become difficult, they want to face it with you by their side.

it feels right when san is the one to officially ask the question, “y/n, will you be our girlfriend?”

like san once said, it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, and you’ve been blessed with not only one, but eight of these people. between friendship and love, you already know from experience what you will decide– so you make your choice.

“i forgot, are hongjoong and wooyoung coming down this weekend?” san pokes his head in through the doorway.

you eye him from the mirror, face void of expression to reply, “don’t count on it.”

san’s pout is immediate and you laugh, shuffling over to console your boyfriend from where you had been getting ready in your shared bathroom. he grumbles, “you’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?” but he can’t hide the way his lips pull upwards the moment you press a chaste kiss against his cheek in apology.

“hongjoong said that there were a couple of delays with filming, so he and wooyoung can’t step away just yet. but they’ll come back next saturday if they can wrap things up by then.”

as you talk, san takes the halter straps out of your grasp so that he can help secure your top around your neck. “it’s so hard to align everyone’s schedules together. i miss the long holiday breaks we got in college,” you absently complain, body relaxing under the ministrations of san’s hands as he gently squeezes the nape of your neck.

“me too, love,” another voice joins the conversation. seonghwa walks up to tenderly ruffle san’s hair and nuzzles your temple with his nose. “but we have to work hard to pay off this house and to spoil you with whatever you want.”

seonghwa has grown out his hair and has kept it long since, and you love running your fingers through his silken waves before he goes to work every morning. he always looks so soft and cosy with his round glasses and fluffy sweaters that you know his school kids adore just as much as you do. but right now, his face bare of makeup and hair pulled back into a messy updo, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts to show off his upper build, he looks the complete opposite of what you’re used to seeing and you feel your stomach doing flips in response.

you lean into both of their touches as you giggle, “we could have bought a smaller house. nobody sleeps in their own bedroom anyway.”

“well can you really blame us for being madly in love,” seonghwa grins, stealing a kiss from you that only serves to elicit more giggling.

“that’s true. your beds are always warmer than mine,” you agree.

“exactly. now come on, are you ready to go?”

the three of you walk downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the boys are waiting around in various mismatches of shirts, tank tops or only shorts. after two weeks of attempting to keep everybody’s clothes separate once you’d all moved in together, they had simply given up and made their wardrobes communal.

as you drop a spare bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag, a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. you turn around, sweet smile ready to greet whoever it is. your jaw drops, “wooyoung?”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, even more so when your eyes grow even wider at the sight of hongjoong perched on the edge of the couch in the background and you exclaim, “hongjoong? i thought you two weren’t coming until next week?”

wooyoung takes the opportunity of your dazed compliance to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “we caught up with the schedule,” he exclaims happily. “you should’ve seen hongjoong though. director kim made sure to work us hard.”

you playfully wriggle yourself out of the vice-like hug you’re in to bound over to the older, who automatically opens his arms to welcome you. you slot easily between his legs and his hands rub the sides of your back fondly as he looks up to ask, “did you miss me?”

forgoing an answer, you lean down to kiss him. wooyoung immediately complains, “why didn’t i get a kiss?” so san pulls him in for one to appease him. you’d never be able to leave the house otherwise, because then everyone would start demanding your kisses. and considering that it has been a few long months since you last had quality time with all eight of them at the same time, there would be too many wanted kisses to count.

one thing you had all agreed on prior to buying a house in namhae was to ensure it had a beach front, just like your and san’s old home. so it doesn’t take long to carry your surfboards– save for you; the boys like it when you use theirs– and towels down to the shore.

you close your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and subtle feeling of ocean spray on your skin. it’s a bittersweet emotion, knowing that it’s already the last day of summer, but only today have the nine of you been able to align your schedules this year. it makes you appreciate these fleeting moments of rest though, and you learn to find rest in each other too.

some of the boys start slipping off their tops, dropping them onto the sand to keep them dry as they surf. you’ve found that the greatest perk of dating them is that you’re allowed to openly and unashamedly ogle at them. the rigid shadows of their muscles reveal the discipline and hard work they put into maintaining their bodies despite their busy jobs.

san had also been monitoring his protein intake leading up to his recent dance showcase, so it’s very hard to look at the expanse of his broad chest and prominent dip of abs down his hips without feeling a rush of heat in your lower stomach. if the boys know that you offer to help them reapply sunscreen just to get a little handsy with them, then nobody says anything. (they offer to help you reapply your sunscreen as well.)

you’re content to just lie down on your towel and watch the boys, yeosang in his usual place by your side as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder and traces the names of his lovers onto the skin of your stomach. mingi starts dragging his surfboard into the water, but when wooyoung attempts to push him in instead– and fails miserably– all thoughts of surfing are quickly forgotten. it becomes an absolute shitshow when hongjoong gets mistaken for the culprit and mingi picks him up.

“it wasn’t me!” the older shrieks, but mingi has no ears for reasoning and prepares to drop him into the water. unwilling to go down by himself, hongjoong grips mingi’s neck at the last second and successfully drags him underwater with his weight. as wooyoung runs away absolutely delighted by the outcome, his trajectory unfortunately runs into jongho, who cuts off his cackles with a giggle, a simple shove sideways and a resultant splash.

not even bystanders can catch a break, and seonghwa screams for mercy as san and yunho suddenly grab his arms and legs. they sway him from side to side before letting him go with the momentum of the last swing to fling him into the ocean. everyone erupts into a united clamour of glee at the dunking of the eldest and you find yourself shaking your head at their unchanging antics.

you don’t think you can ever get tired of watching their radiant smiles of happiness and shared touches of sun-kissed skin, nor can you ever get tired of hearing their tinkling chimes of laughter and rowdy shouts of mischief. you may all grow older and there may not be as much time or luxury to simply bask in the joys of summer any longer; these golden hours that you are living in right now may forever remain as your sole memories when you reflect back on the essence of your youth.

on this day– the last day of summer in namhae– you find that summer takes the form of shared ice cream with sticky kisses, long showers with warm touches, and hushed pillow talk with synchronous heartbeats. but it doesn’t matter to you, not anymore.

the seasons will change and the years will pass, but so long as you are with your boys, every day will be summer.

Tags :

rec:ateez

1K notes View Post

anythingrelatingtojinyoung

11 months ago

Good Lil Boy

prince!wooyoung x princess!reader

enemies to lovers au

genres: tiny bit of fluff, loads of angst, smut- both hard and soft (mdi!) swearing, wooyoung being wooyoung (a tease), wooyoung driving you clinically and romantically insane, etc etc

word count: 23k

synopsis: you and wooyoung may be best friends but you are also each other's worst enemies, leaving no chance to humiliate and tease the other. when you meet at prince yunho's kingdom for a 3 months retreat, things take an unexpected turn as you start to place very personal bets and find yourselves unable to keep your hands off each other, something you'd regret later as you fail to keep boundaries.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, that is how it is,” Seonghwa was resting his face on one hand, elbow propped on the table as he scanned you, a smirk growing on his face. “Can’t say I hate what’s happening. Ought to put you in your place, Princess.”

You looked at Hongjoong for help, “He’s not fucking serious, is he?”

“Ought to teach you how to speak to elders too,” Seonghwa muttered and Hongjoong laughed.

“I’m sorry, Princess. That’s how it is. It’s only three months, what could go wrong?”

That was the conversation you recalled when you reached the castle in Utopia, the face you were dreading right in front of you as you got out of your carriage.

“This place is already one prince too crowded,” you looked at Prince Wooyoung, his smirk growing by the second. “Here to learn how to live up to your title, eh?”

“I’d say that to you,” Prince Wooyoung bowed dramatically. “This place ought to teach a princess how to make good use of her mouth.”

“Like you’d know,” you sneered at him as you waited for Hongjoong and Seonghwa to stop giving orders to the rest of your companions so they could join you and take you inside, away from that brat.

“I’d say I know very well- how to make good use of my mouth,” he winked at you and you put your hands over your ears, grimacing as you called for the two to hurry up. Prince Wooyoung scoffed in victory before going inside with his companions who greeted you with bows.

Just a week ago, you had received the news from your father- Utopia’s royal family had invited princes and princesses from across the continent, holding an event, something like a holiday retreat for everyone. The details of it you would receive upon arriving but you had heard it was going to be fun and games, and you would have believed them, would have enjoyed your stay except-

Except for the fact that Wooyoung was here.

You didn’t hate Wooyoung, no. You abhorred him, his sassiness, his brattiness, his very existence, just like he hated yours. And it wasn’t due to a petty reason (though that was debatable as well). As children, since your parents were close, you two had spent most of your prepubescent years together. You had even been friends. But everything had changed once you two were grown enough to be aware that you were a boy and a girl.

And it was both your fault and his.

You did not like recalling the dark times, as you so dramatically liked to put. Some would say it wasn’t even a reason big enough to hate each other, but you argued that it was. He had humiliated you in front of Prince Yunho, whose castle in Utopia you were now in. You, in return, had humiliated him in front of Princess Yuju of Neverland, whom he had always had a crush on. You called yourself even but he decided to fight with you, the result of which was now obvious to everyone who knew you.

Prince Yunho greeted you both as you entered the castle, inquiring of your parents’ health. You shared a hug, telling him how much they missed him and looked forward to meeting him in three months’ time, when all this would be over.

“Are you sure your parents are the only ones who missed him?” Wooyoung muttered and you flipped your middle finger at him, Yunho laughing at you two as he told Wooyoung to behave while he was around you. You left before he could start recalling the dark times, putting an arm in Seonghwa’s as he escorted you to the guest chambers.

“You should have told me that brat was going to be here,” you slumped on the couch, Seonghwa and Hongjoong snickering, “You both just love to see me miserable, don’t you?”

“Come on,” Hongjoong said, “If we’d told you, you would have never agreed to come.”

“Exactly,” you gave him a side-eye, “This is treachery. I ought to get you both beheaded.”

Seonghwa ignored your remarks like he usually did as he handed you a glass of water, “Cool down. It would do you good to tolerate his existence while you’re here. Who knows? Maybe you two will become friends again.”

“Yeah, who knows, Seonghwa,” you sipped the water. “Maybe he would fall to his knees and apologise. Maybe the world will end. Who knows?”

“Why is she so dramatic?” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong for help who was almost half asleep.

“The important question, my dear friend,” Hongjoong began, “Is why do we serve this spoilt Princess-”

“I’m spoiled? You clearly haven’t met Wooyoung.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong decided you were right later that evening when Wooyoung was flirting with the other princesses from around the continent while sending knowing smirks in your direction, which you tried to ignore but then he did what you feared- a princess you recognised was from the south came and asked you, “Did you really burn your hair off once while trying to impress Prince Yunho? All of it?”

However, the duo were also impressed by your patience and your will to not bend under Wooyoung, to meet fire with fire, as you replied, “Oh no, honey. That was Prince Wooyoung- you see how half his hair is another colour? That’s because they can never be the same colour again. Ask him, go on.”

The Princess, who was no more than 13, gasped, believing what you said right away as she made her way back to Wooyoung and seconds later, you heard a howl of laughter and you sipped on your wine in victory. Hongjoong patted you on the back, “I have to admit, that was a good one.”

“Do not encourage her,” Seonghwa warned but he, too, was smiling. “Here he comes.”

Prince Wooyoung plopped himself beside you, shaking his head as he grinned, “That was a good one. They refuse to believe I haven’t dyed my hair.”

“You should have been more clever with your lies,” you smiled sweetly at him, “I do wonder what you were thinking when you decided this was a good look on you.”

“Oh, the ladies love it,” Wooyoung flicked his half-tied hair, “So. I hear it’s about time you get married. Should I find you a good suitor here?”

Oh no.

“You’re my age,” you smirked at him, “Maybe I should announce you’re mine. Let’s see if you get the same company of ladies around you then.”

Wooyoung cooed, “Can’t resist calling me yours?”

You leaned forward, your noses almost brushing, “My tongue’s still bitter thanks to the aftertaste.”

Wooyoung made a face as you sat back in your position, “Three months here, Princess. Get ready for hell.”

He blew a kiss your way before he went back, making all the ladies that were watching go wild and you glared at Seonghwa and Hongjoong, “Give me a good enough reason not to murder him right now.”

“Your own execution?”

“I said a good enough reason,” you turned to look at Wooyoung who was now back to sitting in the middle of a crowd of ladies, “Execution sounds tempting.”

—----------------

The next day, all the young royals settled themselves in the Great Hall for breakfast where you spotted Prince San- an old friend of yours. You waved at him from a distance and wowed internally at how different he looked- he had definitely matured a lot. Prince Yunho stood up after everyone was done with breakfast, clinking his glass to get everyone's attention.

"It's so good to have most of you here, after years," he began, meeting eyes with the princes and princesses from across the continent, "It was my father's idea that I host this retreat for all of us, a way to catch up with everyone and reminisce over old memories, and who knows? Maybe some of us will go back engaged," he threw a wink in one direction. "Anyways, you all are free to roam around, but I had a little something in mind-"

He then laid out his plan- Mondays for horse riding, Tuesdays for board games, Wednesdays for outdoor games, Thursdays for history lessons, Fridays for balls and parties and Saturdays and Sundays would be free unless something came up. You liked that- you weren't bound to stay the whole three months (though Yunho assured anyone who wanted to could stay here forever) but you decided it was a relief from your life back home, where everyday had started to feel bland as you followed a mechanical routine. Everyone was just as excited as you, if not more.

You got up after Yunho excused himself, approaching San and sharing a hug, "You've changed, Prince."

"I hope it's a good change. You're prettier than ever," San smiled.

"Thank you," you smiled back. "Good to see you, Jongho," you addressed his Right Hand, who was also a friend of yours.

"It's been long, Princess," he bowed. "I see Yeosang- let's go greet them. Have you met them yet?"

Yeosang being Wooyoung's Right Hand- you shook your head, following him as Yeosang greeted you three.

"Ah, Princess, I'm glad you're here. Finally someone I can badmouth Wooyoung with."

You grinned, "This is why I like you, Yeosang."

"Now, now," Wooyoung approached you. "Already teaming up against me?"

"What do you mean? We've been a team ever since I can remember," Yeosang dramatically said, earning a laugh from everyone else and a slap from him.

"All my best friends are here," Yunho and his Right Hand, Mingi approached the group with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, "There's a lot of catching up to do. What do you say, drinks tonight, my room."

Everyone agreed, "Only if someone stops Mingi from crying when he gets drunk."

"I don't cry when I'm drunk!" Mingi laughed at Jongho.

"You definitely do, Mingi, I can attest to that," Yunho laughed.

Yunho was right.

Mingi did cry when drunk.

However, that was the least of your problems right now, because what threatened you was Wooyoung, who was an extreme flirt when drunk.

"Like sober Wooyoung wasn't enough," you put your feet on his shoulder to push him away harshly as he tried approaching you, almost crawling. "Now I have to deal with a horny Wooyoung."

It had all been normal- after dinner, you all met in Yunho's room after the rest of the people excused themselves for the night. Some were having drinks with their own groups, and your group of friends was as old as you so nobody batted an eye at your easy interactions.

You all caught up with each other, Wooyoung and you occasionally shooting a snide remark to the other, and the boys made you both sit in opposite corners, having a laugh over how you two still fought so much that it was probably love.

"That's not love," you spat.

"Yeah, we hate each other's guts," Wooyoung, for once, was on your side.

"You keep saying that," San teased, "I just know these three months are going to change something between you two indefinitely."

"Eternal hate sounds appealing, what say you, Wooyoung?"

"Very," he grinned at you.

"Gosh, is nobody gonna comment on his hair though?" You met eyes with everyone, "He looks like a half fried biscuit."

Everyone roared with laughter and Wooyoung gaped at you, "Nice try, Princess. Obviously trying to get attention off the fact that you have this weird haircut now- do you know it makes your face look fat?"

You unconsciously tugged at your bangs while the rest of the boys looked at each other, an echo of "I didn't even notice" and "me neither" going around the room.

"Please, have you looked in the mirror? And what's with the ponytail? You think you look hot?"

"I don't know, Princess," Wooyoung turned towards you. "Do I look hot?"

"Oh, someone get me a drink before I throw up all over the rug," you mumbled, Yeosang laughing as he passed you a drink and you downed it, glaring at Wooyoung who still looked amused. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Prince. Someone might think you actually find me funny."

"I do," he said, "find you amusing. Such a mouth you have on you. God…" he downed his own drink. "I missed this."

You started smiling- you missed this too. You may hate Wooyoung's guts but he was still your oldest friend. Everyone cheered, clinking their glasses together, going back to teasing each other over anything and everything-

Until everyone became drunk.

"Get him off me, Yeosang," you almost cried. "He's being weird."

"You two need this, you know," Yeosang only watched as Wooyoung attempted to crawl on top of you just to spite you. "We ought to put you two in the same dungeon for these three months."

"There's so much sexual tension between them, it's not even funny," San commented.

"Oh, shut up!" You and Wooyoung shouted at him together and he raised his hands but his smug face said he had proven his point. You got up, going to hide between Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

"Princess!" Wooyoung cried out as he got up, swerving dangerously as he ran his eyes around the room, searching for- "You!"

He almost tripped on one of Yunho's sprawled limbs as he made his way in front of you, "Everyone! Do you all know it's time for our little princess to find a suitor!"

Everyone including, to your dismay, Seonghwa and Hongjoong raised their glasses and cheered for you and you slumped even further down the couch. Wooyoung met eyes with you, "So… Who in this room would you give a chance, Princess?"

You rolled your eyes, "You think you undeserving shits have a chance?" Everyone booed at you, making you laugh. "No, I'm serious. Who do you think I'd even consider? I have known you guys since we were toddlers, take that into consideration too."

Wooyoung went behind San, rubbing his shoulders. "This lad has grown up well. How about him?"

You looked at Wooyoung in warning, who sported the most smug expression. San was thankfully too drunk to notice what was happening. "Can you stop this and sit down before I make you?"

"Make me? You can't make me do anything, Princess."

You took the challenge, walking to him slowly and he mimicked your actions until you both were face to face. "Look at you. You're just begging for it, Wooyoung. Begging for me to put you in your place."

Wooyoung put his fingers under your chin and you tried to ignore the way his eyes were dark as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes and the shiver his touch sent down your spine. "Do I have to get on my knees for you to do it?"

You heard the faint oohs from your friends who were conscious enough to listen in. You smirked, "You think about that image a lot? You, on your knees, in front of me?"

"God, no," Wooyoung scoffed, patting your cheek lightly, "Don't flatter yourself, Princess."

"Alright, before you two kiss in front of me," Hongjoong got up, clapping. "Everyone, bed, now."

Wooyoung and you immediately pretended to throw up as you two drew away and you followed Hongjoong and Seonghwa to your chamber, collapsing on the bed and passing out before you could recall the events of tonight.

—--------------------

You were sipping your margarita, relaxing on a chair in the shade with some of the people who weren’t interested in horse-riding itself, or who, like you, were currently inconvenienced due to an injury- yours being a still healing ankle. You figured you could join in the horse-riding lessons in a week or two, though you weren’t sure you would be learning much- you kind of sucked at it no matter who taught you. You just couldn’t deal with horses.

But seeing Wooyoung zoom past the audience with a smug look on his face as he rode possibly the most beautiful stallion present, in a rather graceful manner, you weren’t sure you wanted Wooyoung to see you struggle with horse-riding. After all, he was always waiting for a chance to spot your weakness and make a joke out of it.

“You look like you’re wishing he’d fall off and die,” Princess Yuju- one of your oldest friends- laughed as she slumped down next to you with a drink of her own, patting the sweat off her forehead with a kerchief.

“Is it that obvious?” You muttered and she shook her head in amusement. “Okay, as appealing as that thought is, I was just wishing I could join, but you know how hesitant I am with horses.”

“I haven’t done this in a while so I have to admit, I was feeling nervous but Seonghwa… he’s a good teacher.”

You raised a brow as you noticed her smiling as she mentioned his name. “You still have a crush on him? I thought that was just a passing thing.”

“I thought too,” she sighed dreamily. “He’s just… such a gentleman.”

You put a hand over your mouth as you laughed, briefly recalling the events of last night. “You know what? Maybe you should see him drunk. He’s very talkative when drunk.”

“He shouldn’t see me drunk,” Yuju muttered and you giggled- she had a habit of getting physically affectionate when drunk, though she had a good level of tolerance. “And… here comes your favourite person.”

You didn’t know who she meant but the last person you were expecting was Wooyoung who was wiping his forehead with a towel and threw it in your direction as he got closer. With no time to dodge it, it landed on your face and you cursed under your breath, throwing it away.

“What’s your problem?”

“You have something on your face,” he said as he settled down in front of Yuju who was trying not to laugh.

“What?” You asked, patting your cheeks.

“Ugliness,” Wooyoung said and turned to Yuju. “How are you doing? You’re prettier than I last saw you.”

“And you’re still as shameless,” Yuju patted your back as you gaped at Wooyoung because how dare he? “I don’t get why you two won’t get along after all these years. It’s like you’re both doing it on purpose.”

“We get along well, don’t we?” Wooyoung asked and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, we do,” you looked at Yuju. “As well as water and fire.”

Yuju made an unimpressed face and spotted Seonghwa stepping off from his own horse. Just like yours, Wooyoung’s eyes also followed her gaze and you both shared a knowing smile. Yuju straightened and glanced at you both. “I’m going to leave you two… to bond.”

“To bond,” you muttered sourly as she left and Wooyoung scoffed.

“So,” he crossed his legs. “How are your parents doing?”

“Are we actually doing this?” You scoffed but when his straight face didn’t change, you shrugged. “They’re fine. What about yours?”

“Fine, for the most part,” he looked towards the field where a few people were still riding. “Mom misses you. She keeps complaining about how you haven’t visited in a while.”

You smiled at that- as strange as your relationship was with Wooyoung, your relationship with his mother was even stranger. It had started as you getting in trouble with her for sneaking in her room because you loved the intricate necklace she always wore- you had been too scared to ask her directly. However, somehow when his mother, instead of scolding you when she found you trying to hide under a table, sneaked under it herself and shared stories of her own childhood, the two of you found yourselves in a bond that resembled something like a friend, or something like a mother-daughter relationship without all its complexities.

You sometimes wondered if Wooyoung got his adventurous spirit from his mother.

“I wanted to, last summer, but we had that issue with Halaland going on at that time,” you sighed. “I really wished things had sorted out earlier.”

“Aw, missed me?” He cockily rested his face in his hands. “You can admit it, you know.”

You frowned. “What’s your deal lately? You’ve never acted so… clingy.”

“With each passing year, I level up,” he said and you laughed at that- it was true. He was levelling up each year, not just in his personality and behaviour with you, but-

You couldn’t help but notice how sharp his facial structure had gotten since the last time you saw him- a year ago when he had visited your Kingdom of Eden to sort some things out. Wooyoung caught you staring. “Look at you. Shamelessly checking me out.”

“Do they give you nothing to eat anymore?” You ignored his comment. “You look frail.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worried-”

“Good for me, would make it easier for me to push you to your death-”

“It’s called maintaining myself,” Wooyoung got up and flexed his arm muscles and you blanched, the approaching figure of San shaking with laughter at you two.

“Leave her alone,” San smacked Wooyoung’s neck. “He’s just trying to impress the ladies- he thinks he looks hot like this. What do you think?”

“Easier to kill,” you muttered.

“He’s gotten stronger, actually, haven’t you, Woo?” San examined his friend from head to toe. “Wanna arm wrestle and see who wins this time?”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” you laughed, knowing you weren’t ready for Wooyoung’s high-pitched screaming that followed every time he lost to someone in anything. Yunho caught your eye and he motioned for you to join him and Hongjoong.

“I see you two are getting along,” Hongjoong scoffed. “How’s your ankle?”

“I think I’ll skip next week too,” you rotated your ankle and winced when it stung. “Why do you both look so serious anyway?”

“Yunho’s just worried if everyone’s having a good time, and you and Wooyoung always make sure he’s in a constant state of worry,” Hongjoong shook his head in disappointment and Yunho laughed.

“No, it’s not that,” Yunho shook his hands. “He’s right about me being worried though. Are you having a good time?”

“Minus Wooyoung, of course I am,” you smiled. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time, and I’m sure we all needed a break. So you-” you patted Yunho’s arm. “Stop worrying and have a good time too. You can relax with us- we’re all friends here.”

“I also wanted to tell you something,” Yunho took a deep breath. “Princess Haeun of Halaland is arriving tonight.”

You didn’t hide your sour expressions. “I thought she wasn’t going to make it?”

“Seems like she is,” Yunho glanced at Hongjoong. “Will you be alright?”

“Of course I will be,” you answered. “Our issue with Halaland won’t influence my behaviour with the Princess, but you do remember we used to be friends before she started pretending we’re strangers, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not on the best terms with her either,” Yunho nodded. “I don’t know why she suddenly decided to come. I thought she would decline for sure since I was the one who sent the invitations.”

“She’s probably got something up her sleeve,” Hongjoong considered. “Let’s not let her get to us, though, shall we?”

But the moment the Princess entered the Great Hall and paused to search the crowd and stopped when she met your eyes, you knew the sinking of your heart was something you couldn’t ignore. She smirked and resumed walking, Yunho dutifully leaving the table to greet her and you turned towards the rest.

“You all saw that, right?” You looked at Yeosang and Jongho who were in front of you. Yeosang nodded.

“Maybe she’s just happy to see you,” Jongho teased.

“You’re thinking too much,” Wooyoung chipped in, stealing the last chicken nugget from your plate and you gasped as he put it in his mouth. “That’s just how she always looks like.”

“First of all, how dare you steal my nugget? And no, she doesn’t. She specifically met my eyes and gave me an evil smile. You’re blind if you didn’t see that.”

“You call that an evil smile?” Wooyoung laughed, looking around him. “Has anyone ever seen her smile?”

“You-”

“Shh,” Yunho slid in his place next to you, waving a dismissive hand. “You all attract too much attention. I’ll send you home if you keep acting like this.”

“Tell me you saw her evil-smirk at me,” you asked and Yunho looked around the table to make sure no one but your group of friends was listening.

“I think I did,” he finally gave in. “She’s weird. She specifically asked how you were doing- she doesn’t care enough to ask about you as soon as she arrives.”

“See?” You turned to Wooyoung, having proven your point, who fell silent. “She’s gonna have a bigger problem with me now. Especially after the events of last year.”

“Just ignore her, you’ll be fine,” Wooyoung finally said, downing his drink.

“It’s hard to ignore someone who has a habit of getting disrespectful with others,” you muttered, sighing deeply. Wooyoung and the others were no strangers to your rocky relationship with the Princess of Halaland. Others would dismiss it as something similar to your relation with Wooyoung, but he was your friend. He held no malicious intentions towards you, no matter how harsh he could be with his jokes.

“Just come to me if she tries something, okay?” Wooyoung locked eyes with you. “I know exactly how to shut her up.”

You looked at Wooyoung, surprised, while your group of friends hooted loudly at that.

And there it was. Wooyoung was always the first one to protect you. No matter how much you hated his guts, at times like this your heart fluttered, so you simply nodded and told the boys to shut up, unable to meet Wooyoung’s gaze for the rest of the night.

—------------------------

You wondered who had the brilliant idea of assigning your seat diagonally across Princess Haeun in the history class because so far, so not good.

“I think we can all agree that Eden has a history of dirty politics,” Haeun began, glancing casually at you while you rested your chin in your hand, rolling your eyes at her. “Considering how only a decade ago, Eden almost called war on the Allied Kingdoms, shouldn’t it be clear that Eden does not really deserve a seat at the Peace Council?”

“Uh, I think that wasn’t Eden-” San began but was cut when Haeun continued.

“The Peace Council’s foundation is threatened by Eden’s presence in the council, in my humble opinion- no offence to the Princess,” Haeun pasted her trademark smirk over her face and you glanced across the room- quite a few youngsters looked doubtful by her confidence- or maybe your lack thereof. “I think the members of the Peace Council should be the kingdoms who condemn war, not condone it.”

“That’s, uh… an interesting stance you have there,” Jongho, who was voted to be the unbiased fact-checker/host for the day, said. “Anyone who would like to present an opposing argument?”

“I think,” you began, raising your hand and continuing when Jongho gave you the heads-up. “I think that Princess Haeun facts are biassed. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinions but I think the fact that the Allied Kingdoms were scheming to stop the trade from our shared seas… that calls for a threat or two, doesn’t it?”

“And as the oldest members of the Peace Council,” San was smirking, “Shouldn’t they have been resolving this issue ‘peacefully’ rather than this hostile approach which would clearly threaten the well-being of the residents of Eden?”

“What well-being, pray tell, would be threatened if the route was temporarily closed due to conflict? I’m sure Eden is capable enough to flourish trades with its neighbouring kingdoms rather than relying on the ones far away.”

“Conflict of the Allied Kingdoms and Halaland with Neverland, with whom we have maintained trade for as long as the kingdoms have existed,” You looked at Yuju. “Remind me again how our kingdoms would have been affected had the route been closed?”

“I think we’re all sensible enough to figure that out, aren’t we?” Yuju smirked. “Between the time to contact all kingdoms and begin trade, the damage… not only to Eden but to Neverland as well. I think it’s okay when it’s someone else.”

“Besides,” Wooyoung’s voice filled the room and you turned to look at his rather relaxed figure as he rubbed his nose, looking uninterested. “It’s rich coming from you when you sided with the Allied Kingdoms when things looked bleak for Eden. As the members of the ‘Peace’ Council, shouldn’t you have been, I don’t know, trying to do something for peace instead of something that would have surely instigated war?”

The look on Haeun’s face made you want to get up and kiss Wooyoung even if the thought somewhat repelled you. You turned to Jongho who was also trying to hide his satisfaction. “That’s right. As members of the Peace Council, I think whatever decisions made should have a peaceful outcome. If old dealings are disturbed, that would surely put anyone in a tight spot. Eden could have been less hostile, but the Allied Kingdoms and Halaland didn’t give them much of a choice in the first place.”

“Which is why no one really deserves the seat at the Peace Council,” Yunho concluded. “No one’s a saint. I think we should stop with the history lessons here and plan the ball for tomorrow, what do you say?”

The room burst into a chorus of cheers and you watched Haeun sulk in her seat while one of her friends tried to comfort her and shot nasty looks at you. You almost flipped the finger at them but you got distracted when Wooyoung took the empty seat behind you.

“You almost lost your composure back there, Princess.”

“Glad you decided to contribute with your valuable opinion,” you muttered.

“Know why?” He leaned forward, tucking your hair back. “I would like to be the only one who can rile you up. That’s why I’ll make sure I put Haeun in her place.”

You smacked Wooyoung’s hand away. “What sort of twisted logic is that? As much as I appreciate you trying to show Haeun her place, I think I can handle her. In fact, I think I should team up with her this time- she looks like she could kill you, not me.”

Wooyoung glanced at Haeun who indeed looked quite angry at Wooyoung. Perhaps, because they were neighbouring kingdoms, Haeun had expected Wooyoung to take her side but she couldn’t have been more wrong- Wooyoung had only one reason to side with you, and that was to have the upper hand. As if to prove that, he tilted his head. “Can’t handle me?”

“Sorry, no,” you made a disgusted face but then spotted San getting chummy with a shy girl in the corner- perhaps the princess of one of the kingdoms of the Allied. “Would you look at that?”

Wooyoung turned and chuckled when he saw the sight. “I guess he’s looking for a dance partner for tomorrow.”

“You got one?”

“Not yet,” he glanced at you. “And you?”

“I forgot that was a thing, honestly,” you sighed. “I don’t think anyone would be interested in me other than as a last option.”

“Now why would you think that?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “You don’t lack anything- you’re pretty, you’re intelligent, you’ve got the dirtiest mouth, you can put a man in a chokehold-”

“That’s exactly why,” you grinned, ignoring the rush you got when you heard the first two compliments. “I think everyone’s scared of me, especially since I’m always surrounded by one of you idiots.”

“Well, Princess of Eden, you’re my first choice. Will you go to the dance with me?”

“No way in hell,” you countered, watching Wooyoung give in and burst out laughing. “Who placed the bets?”

“Those idiots,” Wooyoung pointed at Mingi and Yeosang- Yeosang seemed to have won as he pocketed some cash from a sulking Mingi. “I do love how quick you are. That makes you more attractive than you actually are, which isn’t much-”

“And that’s your cue to shut up. Wanna make another bet?”

“I’m all ears,” he leaned forward.

“Haeun is going to say yes when you ask her to the ball,” you smirked.

Wooyoung raised a brow. “What makes you think I’d ask her in the first place?”

“Because she keeps looking at you like she’d like to fuck you up- and not in a bad way,” You winked at him. “And… because she’d do anything to make me jealous.”

“Yeah, because everyone thinks we’re a thing,” Wooyoung nodded in understanding, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t help when you’re… like this,” you said pointedly, glancing at the rest of the room who were all busy planning for tomorrow, leaving only the two of you interested in each other. “So?”

“So, I’d like to make another bet,” Wooyoung leaned forward, only the desk separating you two. “I know I’ll lose this one, but if Haeun makes the first move on me… you’ll be my date for the ball next weekend.”

“Ew, why would I agree to that?” You frowned. “And why would you want to take me?”

“I don’t like Haeun, you know I don’t. I won’t make the first move, but if she tries anything funny with me, I get to take you next weekend. And if she doesn’t, you have the choice of rejecting me.”

“Sometimes I wonder what you’ve stuffed in your skull to come up with things like that, but okay. I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t make the first move-”

“Hey, no cheating!” Wooyoung practically shouted, getting up. “It’s time to seduce her. I need to lose the first bet to take you to the dance next weekend after all.”

You weren’t sure if you were regretting agreeing or ever coming up with the first bet, but whatever it was, you were more confused about the way Wooyoung had looked at you right before leaving.

—--------------------

You were wondering what disgusted you more- the sight of Haeun fluttering her lashes at Wooyoung as she danced with him, putting on the fakest smile you’d seen on a human, and pretending to act surprised at times– or, the sight of Wooyoung who had his hands on Haeun’s waists, who was whispering things in her ears, who looked pleased whenever he made her laugh. You really couldn’t decide.

“People are going to think you’re jealous,” Yunho poked your back and you cursed as you twisted in surprise.

“I thought it was obvious that I am disgusted?”

“You keep telling yourself that, hon’,” Yunho shook his head. “Dance with me?”

You shrugged but accepted, getting up and straightening your midnight blue gown, glad you weren’t in a puffy peach dress like Haeun was- it was kind of making her look washed out. You took Yunho’s hand and he led you to the dance floor, the two of you taking up your positions and comfortably falling in a rhythm while you both observed the surroundings.

“You have eyes on you,” you said. “Who’s the lady in the black gown? Look at her when we turn.”

“Ah,” Yunho smirked and you raised a brow. “That’s the one I’m trying to impress tonight.”

“I think you’re doing a good job then,” you approved, smiling. “Do try not to smile like an idiot or she’ll catch on.”

“What, so I should play hard-to-get like you do?” Yunho looked at you.

“When have I ever played hard-to-get?”

“Isn’t that what you have been doing for so long now?” Yunho sighed. “I think you’re not even aware.”

“You’re not making any sense-”

“Wooyoung.”

You made a guttural sound at that. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Tell me what you think about him.”

“I don’t think about him, he disgusts me,” you muttered. Yunho winced.

“Try again. You’re too harsh, Princess.”

“Yunho,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you going to pretend you haven't known me since we were children? That you don’t know how Wooyoung and I have been since ages ago?”

“You used to be inseparable, you still kinda are,” he was grinning and you resisted the urge to kick his leg. “Problem is, you’re a bit too confused. Maybe you more than him. He seems to have figured it out-”

“Shut up,” you groaned. “You’re just trying to confuse me. Who placed bets this time?”

“No one,” Yunho stopped as the music ended and really looked at you. “It must be fun to act like you hate each other, but if you decide to drop the act… there are plenty of empty rooms in the west chamber where you two could-”

“And that’s my cue to get some air and wonder why I ever agreed to dance with you,” you curtsied him as the dance ended and he laughed, calling, ‘I know I’m right about this!’ as you steered yourself to the end of the ballroom to grab a drink. You encountered a few guests on the way who greeted you and made small talk, and by the time you had downed that drink, you were anxious to get some air.

You decided to find the balcony at the other end of the room- the one that would probably have no audience at this time. As you reached the door, you spotted none other than Wooyoung and Haeun through the window, Haeun explaining something to Wooyoung while he nodded nonchalantly. You wondered what they were talking about but you noticed Yuju waving at you from the side and you decided you’d rather busy yourself with the girls than to think of what Yunho said which would surely haunt you at night-

And haunt it did when you had finally been free of the endless greetings and the mini-meeting with Hongjoong and Seonghwa to decide the schedule for the weekend and prepared to go to bed. It was way past midnight and you had just finished dressing into your black nightgown, pulling a wrap over it and taking your cup of chamomile tea to the window to drink in peace but found yourself plagued with thoughts of a certain someone.

As if the devils had planned your fate for the night themselves, you found Wooyoung looking up at you from the garden where he was alone. You almost hid out of instinct but he had seen you so you just waved awkwardly. He looked around and motioned for you to come down, but you shook your head, showing him your cup of tea- he was no stranger to your night habits. But then he motioned that he was coming to you, and you considered declining but then nodded, though, after he left, you wondered if you had the capacity to get into a vocal-battle with Wooyoung at this hour.

You opened the door and let him in, sighing when you took in his figure- he still hadn’t changed and was dressed in a three-piece, the buttons now undone and exposing quite a lot. You cleared your throat. “If you’re here to mock me or something, you can leave right now.”

“I’m here for the tea,” he sounded tired.

“Long night?” You asked as you shut the door and motioned for him to take a seat while you mixed the tea for him. “You looked like you were having fun.”

Wooyoung glanced at you, slumping further down the couch. “I did have fun when Haeun was not pretending to be someone else other than who she is. I mean- why pretend?”

“That’s what girls do when they aim to seduce someone,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “Like this?”

He let out a low laugh. “She’s actually not such a bad person when she’s being normal.”

“Oh, so you like her then?” You handed him the tea.

“Not any more than I did earlier,” he said and you frowned in confusion. “Oh, and I won the bet, by the way.”

You made an impressed face. “She made the first move?”

He frowned in confusion. “You didn’t see her?”

“Was I supposed to witness that? Because that’s disgusting- oh.”

Wooyoung sipped the tea. “I should feel elated that I won the bet, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel good to be used. She spotted you near the balcony and that’s when she tried to kiss me. She thought I wouldn’t notice but I spotted you before her.”

“Just so we’re clear, I was only there to get some air but as soon as I saw the two of you, I backed away. It looked like you were having a… private conversation.”

“You should have joined,” Wooyoung shifted to turn towards you. “All she talked about was you.”

“Really?” You smirked, turning towards him too, not a lot of distance between you two. “All good things, I hope.”

Wooyoung chuckled, sipping again. “You looked good tonight, but I’ll be sending you a dress for next weekend. It’s going to be a masquerade ball- I know Yunho loves that shit. We’ll match.”

“Look at you,” you shook your head. “Your eyes always light up when you’re planning my demise. And I have plenty of dresses.”

“I know exactly what I want to see you in,” he let his eyes travel across your body and you suddenly felt conscious.

“Are you drunk?” You frowned. “You’re babbling.”

“But you’re blushing,” Wooyoung was smirking shamelessly. “I wonder why.”

“That’s from the second hand embarrassment I’m getting from you,” you countered, cursing yourself internally. “Stop being a creep.”

“You know you love me,” he clicked his cup of tea with yours before drinking. You made an unimpressed face.

“Oh, by the way, I forgot to give you this earlier-” he finished in his pocket, producing a small box.

“Wow, are you proposing to me?” You teased. “I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you, I-” he paused, shaking his head and opening the box to reveal a necklace with a teardrop turquoise shining in the middle. “Mom sent this for you.”

“You better finish that sentence, Wooyoung, I dare you to,” you muttered as you took the necklace from him and examined it. “Wow. This is beautiful.”

“My mom has always had a good eye for things,” he looked proud. “I just wonder why she wastes it on getting things for you-”

“I’ll thank her myself,” you interrupted, getting up and going to the mirror next to the fireplace, unlocking the necklace and wearing it on your neck- or trying to but you couldn’t find the clasp so you just settled at examining how it looked, but-

“Let me,” Wooyoung muttered- you hadn’t even heard him come behind you. You felt the brush of his fingers on the back of your neck and you suppressed the shiver it would have sent down your spine. “There,” he said, his hands back on your shoulders as he looked at your reflection in the mirror. “Perfect.”

You weren’t looking at the necklace anymore- you were watching him slide his hands down your arms. “You look like something’s bothering you.”

He glanced at you from the mirror. “Something is.”

He didn’t say what, but you felt him take another step towards you so your back was flush against his body. This time, you didn’t stop the shudder, especially when he held your hands in his and rested his cheek against your head. “Like what you see?”

You couldn’t think- sure, this was a very Wooyoung thing to do. But this time, the two of you were alone, there were no bets in question- as far as you knew- and you hadn’t really been arguing like you had been pretty much the entire week. “What are you doing?”

You hated how it almost came as a whisper but he didn’t seem to care. He let the tip of his nose trail down your temple, squeezing your hands as his lips trailed down your neck, making you push your head back to give him more access, and then-

Then he kissed what had to be your sweet spot- you moaned more in surprise than in pleasure because how could he know when it was his first time? The sound seemed to have pleased him though, because he started nibbling at the spot, his arms wrapping around you, your hands still in his. He made a sound too as he shifted, his hair falling on your slightly exposed chest. You couldn’t help but watch the entire thing which perhaps made your nerves more heightened, your legs weakening with each passing second, and just when you were about to lose your footing, he drew back and helped you stand up, examining what he had done.

“Nice,” he licked his lips. “Goes well with the necklace. Now you can show them both off proudly.”

You gaped at him, the spot quickly turning a deeper shade of purple. Taking a deep breath, you mustered the deadliest glare. “Jung Wooyoung, you absolute-”

“Come on,” he shook his head, having grabbed your wrist that was in the air to punch his chest. With his other hand tucked under your chin, he ran his thumb on your lower lip and drew closer to whisper in your ear. “You liked every second of it.”

With a final kiss to your cheek, he drew back with the cockiest smile you had ever seen him wear, and waved goodbye as he left the room, leaving you standing in the middle of it and trying to control the overwhelming sensations that ripped through your body in his absence. You finally made it to the couch, slumping down, because-

Just what had he done?

And why did you like it so much?

—---------------------

You weren’t sure if Wooyung was avoiding you but things were pretty, abnormally peaceful, which was saying something. Perhaps he knew you were out to murder him the first chance you got, but the weekend passed by rather peacefully and you even had a girls only sleepover where you gossiped all night, sharing stories and pampering each other.

And that was when, in the middle of massaging your shoulder, Yuju had noticed the telltale fade of Wooyoung’s mark.

“Now what is that-” she had begun but you shut her up, promising to explain it later and then avoiding her for the next two days until it was Tuesday and you finally met your group of friends in the evening for board games, where both Yuju and Wooyoung were present.

You paused in the middle of the room, Seonghwa and Hongjoong beside you. “Can we go home now?”

The duo turned to look at you once, ignoring you as they joined the rest, making you take a deep breath and walk to Yuju who wasn’t sitting too far from Wooyoung.

“I knew you couldn’t avoid me forever,” Yuju looked a bit too pleased to see you. “Wooyoung and I were just chatting. He said he missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you called to him, deciding at that moment that there was no way in hell you were letting Wooyoung get the better of you, and that retribution would come. He turned and acknowledged you with a nod, his glance going to where the mark would have been, carefully concealed now. “In fact, my hands have been itching since that night of the ball.”

“Ah, I feel shy,” Wooyoung hid behind San and Yuju laughed sarcastically. “What do you aim to do? Do not try to make a move on me-”

“Your mind ought to be cleansed,” San slapped Wooyoung’s neck and you laughed.

“Hold up- the night of the ball?” Yuju raised a brow. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing-”

“Something-”

“Jung Wooyoung,” you warned, turning to Yuju. “You know how he is. He’s trying to turn me clinically insane.”

“I’m clinically insane… for you too,” Wooyoung threw a wink and the three of you gasped.

“San, please take him away from me before I grab something sharp and end this once and for all,” you begged and San chuckled, practically dragging him across the room and you felt like you could finally breathe, though, now that he was in front of you, you both kept exchanging death glares and talking in your own sign language.

While Yunho explained the rules of the first game and you saw Wooyoung watching you instead of listening to Yunho, you flipped your finger at him and he blew a kiss at you, which probably the entire room saw. You stifled a groan and heard a disgusted sigh-

“Get a room, you two.”

You turned to the source- Haeun, who was sitting near you. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to respond but when she muttered something to her friends and they all laughed at you, you turned to her, ignoring Yuju who tried to stop you.

“Get a room, you said, huh?” You asked in a low voice, glancing at Yunho who was explaining something to the youngsters, and then at Wooyoung who had his eyes on you. “Too bad you couldn’t get one that night.”

Haeun’s friends collectively gasped at that and she actually looked offended. “What would you know about that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess Wooyoung was bored enough to come find me. You know we hate each other’s guts. What does that say for you?”

Haeun scoffed. “I’m not interested in him. Go ahead- he’s all yours.”

“Oh, she says she’s not interested in him,” you turned to Yuju. “Does she want me to wipe that horrible image of her fluttering her lashes at Wooyoung during their dance? Because that would need some help-”

“You-”

“Ladies,” Yunho warned with a smile- only you knew that smile meant he’d had enough, though to the others he still looked calm. “The games are starting. Are we good?”

You straightened and nodded and Haeun did the same. Yunho distributed the cards and you played with your respective groups- yours against Haeun’s. The plan was to play in groups of 6 and compete with each other until 2 remained.

Haeun looked confident, but if there was one thing you were good at, it was at catching lies. You had always been observant enough to notice that one particular thing they did when they lied, which gave them away.

And you knew Haeun would always scratch somewhere on her skin before lying. The game of bluff was easier, especially with Yuju and Eunha by your side who were better at card games than you, so your team took on a winning streak.

A few hours later, only your team and Wooyoung’s team remained and you sat across from each other. You looked at Yunho and Jongho. “This team has all the luck, it seems.”

“I think we should announce our defeat here,” Eunha joked. Yunho’s luck wasn’t something that anyone took lightly.

“Come on,” he laughed. “We have 3 rounds. Anything could happen- and you two are good at this. I don’t know why you teamed up with y/n though, she kind of sucks at games…”

“Not this one,” you challenged. “Don’t tell them why.”

“I guess you’re feeling cocky today,” Wooyoung locked eyes with you. “Maybe we should have met in private before coming to the games. I’m not sure how confident you would have been then.”

“I’m not sure you would have made it here then,” you scoffed. “And neither would I have. I’d be busy cleaning up the murder scene.”

“Oh please, you two,” Jongho shook his head. “So stupid. Let’s start.”

The thing about Wooyoung was, you knew him inside out. He had taught you all the games that you knew today, so you knew how he played as well. You only needed to feel Wooyoung out- you were pretty sure that you would make it.

Halfway through the game, Wooyoung couldn’t believe his ears as you called out every bluff of not only him but Yunho as well. Jongho was a little hard to crack. “I’m your mentor, you can’t do this to me!”

You downed another drink that Hongjoong passed you, who loved seeing Wooyoung miserable. “Kill him, y/n.”

“Got it,” you laughed, glancing at the audience around you. Yunho scolded a sulky Wooyoung and told him to man up for the second round, where they could turn the tables if they won, otherwise it was going to be a clean victory for you.

You relaxed, observing your opponents. Your strategy for the this round was to target Wooyoung. After all, you had revenge to take. You dealt the cards and you let them pass twice before noticing Wooyoung picking at his earlobe. You stifled a smile and watched him place two cards on the table.

“Two nines,” he declared and looked at you.

“That’s a bluff,” you told him.

“Are you sure about that?” He leaned forward, smirking. And there it was- his defence mechanism.

“I’m calling it.”

Yuju tapped your arm to make you think again but you ignored her. You looked at Yunho. “Go ahead and check.”

Yunho laughed in defeat before he announced the cards, and while the rest cheered, Wooyoung and you found yourself in a staring contest. He couldn’t help but smile- he liked when you were in your element.

“How can you always tell when I’m lying?” He finally asked when everyone started to scatter.

“You have this very obvious thing you do when you lie. Not going to tell you,” you said.

“Well, you won,” Wooyoung clapped. “What do you want?”

He was talking about the bet you had placed earlier- fulfilling a wish if you won. You grinned, “I’ll save it for later.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Got some plans, I see.”

“Yeah,” you leaned forward. “I have a few, yes.”

“Well, at least you’ll stop avoiding me then?” He asked casually and you shrugged.

“Who said I was avoiding you?”

“Come on,” he scoffed, getting up and motioning at the table with the snacks. “You missed horse riding yesterday.”

“My ankle is still healing,” you told him. “I wanted to sleep in.”

“And you didn’t come to have dinner with us on Sunday.”

“I had to answer letters from home- wait, why am I even giving an explanation?” You took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie. “What makes you think I’d want to see you on purpose? My whole life has been navigating around ways to avoid you-”

Wooyoung scoffed. “I distinctly remember you watching me do that to you in the mirror,” he pointed towards where the fading bruise had been concealed with makeup. “You didn’t push me back. I wonder why.”

“Maybe because I was having a hard time processing exactly what you were trying to do,” you tugged at the necklace he had put on you subconsciously.

“Want me to test your processing speed again?” Wooyoung grinned and you gaped at him.

“You know, that’s enough cockiness. I bet you’d be whimpering if I did that to you.”

“Ah, you think too highly of yourself, but I’m open if you want to test that theory-”

You laughed in disbelief. “What’s got you so horny these days, Wooyoung? Haven’t had a good fuck for a while?”

Wooyoung poked his tongue in his cheek- a sure sign that now he was turned on, and somehow, after realising just what you had said, you felt your ears heat up. “No. No I haven’t. And you look like you haven’t either.”

“I’m good,” you muttered. “Now get your head out of the gutter.”

“Well,” he drew closer, glancing around. Everyone seemed to be busy so he stood behind you just like he had that night and you found yourself frozen in your spot. He leaned forwards, one arm going around your waist and keeping you flush to himself while the other picked a chocolate from the table that he popped in his mouth. Your flush got deeper when you realised that the hard thing poking at your back wasn’t his flashy metallic belt. He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re holding yourself back, Princess. I know exactly what you want to do to me. I’m just telling you that you can. I’d like to be ruined by you.”

With that, he drew back and you almost lost your footing as you gathered yourself, unable to meet his eyes because yes, you hadn’t been the best at hiding the scandalous, borderline unholy flashes that crossed your mind whenever Wooyoung did something or acted some way. It took you a while to realise that only Wooyoung was capable of riling you up to the extent that you’d want to show him his place in that way.

But right now, you were more pissed because how could he do that to you when everyone was right here? You glared at him but he only winked at you, waving goodbye and turning-

“Oh, no, you’re not,” you grabbed his arm. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, my,” Wooyoung grinned. “If anyone sees us, what are they going to think?”

“Like I give two shits about that,” you dragged him out of the room, praying no one would question your absence, though people would surely notice the absence of Wooyoung since he was, well, noisy to put it nicely. “This is the west chamber, right?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung was now walking beside you, his arm still in your hand. “Why?”

“Yunho mentioned there were empty rooms here, with some torturing instruments,” you muttered and he laughed out loud. “Perhaps I should test them to see if they’re still functioning.”

“Nice idea. I’m thinking spiked cuffs, neck collars-”

You tried the door of the first room but it was locked. The second was unlocked and you stopped, realising if you stepped in, you couldn’t back out-

“Having second thoughts already?”

“You are driving me insane,” you groaned, pulling him in and locking the door. You took a few deep breaths and looked around the room- pretty plain but you dragged a chair and made him sit so you could stand and point your finger at him.

“Stop looking so amused. Tell me what exactly is your problem. How dare you do that to me?” You watched Wooyoung’s smile fall. “Do you want me to tell Hongjoong? Because he’s gonna kill you if he learns you’re playing with me-”

“Who said I’m playing?” His voice was serious. “I just like to see you all riled up like that-”

“Oh?” You put your hands on your hips as you stared at his bulge. “You like to see me riled up? Does that turn you on, Wooyoung? Maybe I should give Haeun some pointers-”

You shut up when Wooyoung casually put his hand on top of his bulge and gave it a rub, licking his lips as he looked at you. You shook your head, stepping towards him, ignoring the red alert in your brain that told you none of this made sense, but there was one thing about you- you didn’t believe in eye for an eye, you believed in doing worse in retribution.

And Wooyoung had no right making you feel that way. So you put your hand under his chin, making him look up at you. “Look at you. Practically on your knees for me, aren’t you?”

“Not yet, Princess,” he shook his head. “You’ll be on your knees before me.”

“You wanna bet on that, pretty boy?” You cocked your head, running your thumb over his lips and when they parted, you slid it in and watched him suck it. He could still taste the chocolate you had just been eating. You took it out, trailing it down his chin and down the neck, putting your hand around his neck and examining how it looked, squeezing it a little to make his mouth part for air. “My hands make a nice enough necklace, I think.”

“Are you going to give me something that’d go along with it?” His voice was husky.

“Do you want me to?” You asked, testing his patience and you saw his eyes glaze. He gave you a subtle nod and you drew closer until your noses were brushing, giving his neck a little squeeze as you trailed your lips to his ears and whispered-

“Then beg for it.”

Wooyoung groaned, grabbing your free hand and keeping you in your place. You let your lips trail down his neck for good measure before drawing away and seeing the desperation in his eyes. You scoffed. “You’ve got the look right. You just need to say it out loud, Prince.”

“You know I could make you beg for that right now, don’t you?” He asked and you shrugged. “I’m only letting you do this because I want you to.”

“Oh? Submissive tonight, are we?” You laughed, cupping his face and kissing right next to his lips. “There’s your reward.”

There was a moment of pause where you both contemplated just what had happened before Wooyoung finally lost it and decided to have his way with you- he got up quicker than you could process and had your face in his hands and was kissing you like a man deprived of air and you were quicker to respond by parting your mouth and letting his tongue in for a heated kiss, your hands fisting his collar for support. You moaned loudly in the kiss and he swallowed it, not giving you a moment to breathe as he led you to the wall so he could lean down and angle his face better in the kiss.

If you began to wonder what you were feeling, you could only explain it as something inside you breaking free, some wall that had been there falling down- something like that. Your brain was mush, your heart feeling things you had never felt before, but what you felt most was the unmistakable desire coursing through you. You broke the kiss and gasped for air as he rested his forehead against yours, repeatedly pecking your lips while you caught your breath.

“You’re… insane,” you breathed and he chuckled deeply, brushing his nose with yours and making you bite your lips as you resisted doing something stupid- but maybe… maybe now you could.

After all, you two couldn’t simply go back from here so while you were at it… you could enjoy it.

And see him suffer, the voice in your head said. You smirked, fisting his shirt and pushing him away, shaking your head as you pushed him back until he sat down on the bed and you got on top of him. He was about to hold your leg and position it to his preference but you muttered a ‘nuh-uh’, instead making him spread his legs so you could press your knee lightly on his bulge and as he moaned, you kissed him for a few moments, one hand supporting you on top of him while the other slowly crept behind his neck and tugged at his long hair when you broke the kiss.

You examined how he looked in that moment- lids heavy, lips parted and wanting more, throat bobbing- you scoffed and grabbed his tied hair, fisting it so you could angle him as you finally started kissing his neck and found the sweet spot when you felt his bulge twitch under your knee’s pressure. You started licking and nibbling there without holding back- he needed to feel more than what he had made you feel, so you made sure you made him groan multiple times as you planted the mark. Somewhere between it, his hand had travelled to your waist and was squeezing your hips- you tried to ignore it but your core was throbbing very painfully now.

You finished your work and admired it, making Wooyoung laugh in disbelief. “All this for revenge?”

“What can I say?” You smacked your lips. “You gave me something to look forward to.”

Wooyoung bit his lip out of habit and considered the fact that you were still pressing your knee where he wanted to. Before he could do something about it, though, you drew away, brushing your clothes.

“We’re done here,” you told him and he stifled his groan- he liked what game you were playing with him and he was not going to be the one to admit defeat first.

“For now?” He dared ask.

You licked your lips as you scanned him ever so slowly and nodded. “That’s on you. This- what happened tonight? That’s on you too. Don’t get any ideas, and remember-” you pointed your finger at him but then decided against it, lowering it. “Remember- this means nothing.”

You weren’t sure if the look that passed Wooyoung was hurt or regret but he needed to realise that if he had started this game with you, he was going to be the one who'd decide his fate. “This means nothing… unless I want it to mean something, right?”

You didn’t answer that, but it looked like he had understood, so you told him not to follow you before leaving the room and going straight to your own, going to the sink and washing your face with cold water and gripping the sink as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Oh, how you had wanted to let him do things to you, but…

But Wooyoung understood. He had taken the first step, dissolving the unmistakable sexual tension between you two that had been there for years now. He had risked it all, and your response had been unexpected but now that he thought about it, it was something you’d do, and deep down, he knew it. He knew that you hated losing. If he had simply kissed you and confessed that he was interested in you, you would never have responded because of the strange love-hate relationship you two had for years now.

Friends, you called yourselves. Were you friends? Yes, but did friends do this type of stuff? Probably not, he laughed to himself as he recalled when something had possessed him to mark you. He just couldn’t resist it when you wore the necklace that he had chosen for you. Yes, it was from his mother, but he was always the one who picked the gifts for you. Would you have worn it if you knew?

As he lay down to sleep, he was plagued with such questions for most of the night and he wondered if he could stop things here or take the next step and find himself falling in dangerous, perhaps unwelcomed territories.

—--------------------

It looked like Wooyoung was taking his sweet time deciding just what he wanted. You didn’t avoid him anymore. In fact, you two were pretty normal around each other now, occasionally arguing like always, sometimes teaming up to bully one of your friends- just the usual. You were bullying San right now because he seemed to have a few loose memory screws.

“Forget world history, San, you don’t even remember your own life history,” you laughed. “You really don’t remember that time you held a whole debate about butts being what- one?”

“I think he insisted on two,” Wooyoung laughed. “Honestly, I kind of agree.”

“No, we’re not doing this,” Yunho shook his head aggressively. “Look at this-” he raised his hands in the air and you choked on laughter. “One buttcheek and the other- there are two buttcheeks but they belong to one butt-”

“It’s not that deep!” You laughed. “We’ve done this before, so let’s shut up now- there are people watching, and for goodness’ sake, Wooyoung, grab Yunho’s hands- he’s making weird gestures.”

Wooyoung pulled Yunho’s hands down, all of you laughing. You noticed the girl Yunho was interested in watching him from the other end of the room and you kicked his leg from under the table. “Still not asked her to the dance tomorrow?”

Yunho’s eyes went wide in realisation. “I was so busy planning the thing that I forgot I had to attend too!”

San shook his head in disappointment and Wooyoung urged him to go and ask someone out. Yunho looked at the rest of you. “Who are you going with?”

“Yuju,” San said and you raised your brows- that was news. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he laughed. “We just waited too long to ask who we actually wanted to, so we plan to catch their attention tomorrow night.”

“Ah, what interesting lives you’re living,” you sighed dramatically.

“Who are you going with anyway?” Yunho asked.

“Lost a bet and now I have to accompany him tomorrow.”

San laughed but Yunho seemed to have caught on. “I see… He doesn’t seem too sad about it.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” you challenged. “Any chance to torment me, he happily takes.”

“Eh, come on,” Wooyoung poked your thigh. “It’s not that bad.”

“You tell yourself that,” you said dismissively. “You better not send me a sack tonight.”

“You’d look pretty in a sack though,” Wooyoung said quite seriously.

“Ew,” San got up. “Stop flirting with her every chance you get, Wooyoung.”

“I’m going to ask her,” Yunho got up. “Wish me luck!”

You watched the duo scatter and you glared at Wooyoung. “I’m serious. Don’t send something stupid.”

“I won’t. I’ve got this brilliant, most seductive red dress that I just have to see you in-”

“I’ll tear it to pieces if I think it’s too much,” you promised and he laughed, getting up and purposefully squeezed your shoulder before exiting the room. You froze for a second but then noticed Haeun eyeing you and mouthed an aggressive ‘what?’ before turning to find the girls.

That night, you found a box in your room with a note attached to it. You ignored the note and opened the box, revealing a red, flowy dress and you wowed when you took it to the mirror and saw how good it looked on you. If Wooyoung had chosen it for you personally, he really did have a good eye. You called a maid and wore the dress to see if it needed any alterations, but it was a surprisingly perfect fit save for the shoulders which could be fixed with a stitch.

“Wherever did you find someone who knows exactly what would look good on you?” The maid sighed dreamily.

“I think he just got lucky,” you laughed.

“I think he knew exactly what he was doing,” she winked at you, finishing the stitching and taking her leave. You sat down with a glass of water and noticed the attached note and considered burning it but then curiosity took the better of you and you opened it-

“The only reason I got this for you is so that I can take it off for you tomorrow night.”

You bit your lip to stifle your smile as you looked up in disbelief, cursing yourself internally at the way your stomach did a flip after reading that. You even considered getting rid of the dress, but it would be such a shame-

And truly, when you wore it and got ready, hair tied messily in a bun with loose tendrils framing the mask on your face, red painted on your lips, you had to admit- Wooyoung had you wrapped around his fingers. He was messing with your mind- no wonder you got so dolled up for him.

So the only thing you could do tonight was to not let him get the better of you. When he knocked on your door, you composed yourself and opened it but all composure broke when he grinned shamelessly.

“You look like a hyena when you smile like that,” you commented, about to step out but he held your wrist and got you both inside so quickly that before you knew it, he had pinned you against the door.

“You have no idea how crazy you’re making me right now,” he whispered against your ear and you kicked his shin lightly, making him wince as you stepped away.

“Enough of that. We have a ball to attend,” you went to the mirror to look at yourself for the last time. “Wear your mask.”

“I couldn’t tie it properly, so I was hoping you could pin it for me,” he dragged a seat in front of you and sat on it, handing you the mask. You rolled your eyes but grabbed a few pins from the mantle before coming back to assess the situation.

“You should get a haircut,” you said, running your hands through his hair as you tied it in a half pony, letting the bangs from the front loose.

“First thing when I get home,” he said and you nodded, fixing his mask and asking him if it fit well before tying it and then pinning it with his hair. You were almost done when you noticed him smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

“What?”

“I’m getting… deja vu,” he said and you slapped the back of his neck but he grabbed your wrist and made you face him.

“Wanna do something about this?” He pointed at the still fading bruise on his neck- the one you gave him.

“What, did you not go around parading it for the past 3 days?” You asked and he scoffed.

“If you want me to exhibit it, then sure,” he nodded. “I could tell people that you gave it to me.”

“Oh, honey,” you grabbed Wooyoung’s chin in your hand and made him look up at you, leaning forward a bit. “No one’s gonna believe that.”

You felt his throat bob as he licked his lips and swallowed and you watched him for a moment too long before making him tilt his head and then you did the unthinkable- you pressed your lips against the faded bruise so now it had the mark of your red lipstick instead.

“That’s better, yeah?” You scoffed before exiting the room, grinning when you heard him shout ‘You’re crazy!’ from the room before he followed you, your grin widening when you saw he hadn’t erased that and that it was going to be visible for the rest of the night.

You entered the ballroom and greeted anyone who recognised you both through the masks, most of them shooting Wooyoung funny looks because of the kiss mark on his neck. Anyone who asked, Wooyoung joked about Yeosang being the one who did it which earned a good laugh. A few moments later, you found your spots at the dance floor where the dances were going to be held before everyone would start partying after the King and Queen would leave.

The first dance was as normal as dancing with Wooyoung could get- occasional teasing comments, you purposely stepping on his toes, him wincing louder than he should, and then you switched partners for the rest of the dances, rotating until the last song where you’d dance a slow one with your actual partner. You got to dance with Seonghwa who had quite a few things to say about your choice of dress but you shut him up when you told him it was from Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung?” He gaped at you. “Why would he?”

“Why would he,” you wondered as well, and then you switched to dance with Yeosang.

“I’m hearing a really sick rumour about me and Wooyoung,” he said as soon as you began dancing and you failed to stifle your smile. “I hope you’ve got nothing to do with the origin of that rumour.”

“Of course not,” you smiled innocently. “That’s Wooyoung’s doing. Shall we murder him together?”

“Let’s,” he agreed, and then you chatted about your plans for your group hangout tomorrow, deciding the menu.

During the next dance with the Prince of Halaland- Haeun’s younger brother Haneul, he introduced himself, you asked him if he was still good friends with Yunho and learned that that was why he was here.

“I know things with my sister are a bit… rocky, but I hope you don’t mind her,” he apologised on her behalf and your heart softened.

“Oh, not at all,” you told him. “We used to be friends, after all, Haeun and I. I know what she feels right now but I’m not going to entertain her until she comes to her senses.”

“At least one of you is being wise about this-”

“I do tease her on purpose sometimes, though,” you winked and he laughed, saying that as friends, you could do that whenever you were going through a rough patch. Finally, you switched for the last dance and found yourself in a grumpy Wooyoung’s arms.

“You were getting really chummy back there,” he commented.

“Are you jealous?” You asked and he nodded enthusiastically, making you laugh. “Well, you don’t own me.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “I wish I did.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mask. “You know, I would really like to know what’s going on in your head. What was with that note?”

“Did you keep it safe?” He smiled cheek to cheek.

“I burned it.”

He shook his head. “What are we gonna do about that fiery temper of yours? Well, to make things simpler, Princess, this dress you’re wearing is not helping at all with my newfound desire to… fuck you.”

“Newfound?” You scoffed. “Are you sure that’s new? Because if I begin to think back, I think you’ve always had one screw loose when it concerns me.”

“Hmm… food for thought,” he agreed. “Shall I then entail the things I’d like to do to you tonight?”

“Go ahead, do your worst,” you decided to play along.

“Well,” he twirled you and brought you back in his arms as you rocked to the slow melody just like everyone else. “When this is over, I’m gonna take you to your room and wipe that bloody lipstick off your lips with my own. And then…” he licked his lips and you found his hold on your waist tightening so you curled the hair on the nape of his neck. “Then I’m going to take this dress off and mark you wherever I please.”

“Oh,” you said nonchalantly. “And then?”

“And then,” he shook his head in amusement. “Then I’m going to find out if your pussy is as filthy as your mouth.”

This time the gasp that left was every bit real. “Jung Wooyoung!”

“You asked for it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tonight, I’m going to have my way with you, Princess. I’m going to be the one in control. Tomorrow, though… I could let you do whatever you please to me.”

“I never said I wanted any of this, did I?” You asked.

“You don’t need to,” he brought you closer. “Your body responding to me is indication enough.”

You bit your lips as you felt arousal pool through you and just like that, the final dance was over and the partners bowed to each other. Wooyoung said that he would find you later and dispersed in the crowd and you made your way to the drinks because there was no way you could do this without being a little high.

The rest of the night went by chatting with your friends and eating and laughing, a blur until you spotted Wooyoung waving at you from the door and calling you to join him.

“It’s past midnight, but it doesn’t look like this party is gonna end anytime soon,” he said. “So how about you and I… take our leave?”

“What do you really plan to do?” You poked his chest and Wooyoung raised a brow.

“Are you… drunk?”

“Maybe a little,” you sighed. “I can’t do this if I’m sober.”

“Oh, that says a lot about you,” Wooyoung scoffed. “I know you’re not drunk, just a little tipsy. And now I know you want to do this as much as I do. And if you think you can’t do it when sober…” he leaned in, “That means I must have quite an effect on you.”

“Right, maybe, and partly wrong,” you confirmed, taking his arm and pretending he was escorting you to your room like a decent human to anyone who was passing by. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but hold that thought- I think I like where we’re going. No strings attached though. Three months here, Wooyoung. Then we’re just like we were before, is that a deal?”

“Hmm… that’s a deal. But I must place a bet on that,” Wooyoung opened the door of your room and you stepped inside, watching him shut the door and then take off his mask. “You’ll be begging me to stay when it’s time to go back.”

“Oh, how highly you think of yourself. Shouldn’t it be the other way round?” You smirked and he drew closer, pulling the string of your mask so it fell in his hands and he discarded it with his own. You unclasped the fancy hook of his coat and started unbuttoning it. “I think… I think you’re gonna actually fall for me before our time here is over.”

Wooyoung made an impressed face. “Make me fall for you then. Try your best.”

“Wow, I thought you were not going to be submissive tonight- you really can’t make up your mind, can you-”

Wooyoung cupped your face in his hands, scanning it ever so slowly and you mouthed ‘what?’. He only shook his head, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I don’t understand how we got here, but I really like what I see right now, y/n.”

The only sound present was the cackling of the fireplace and the sound of your breaths mingling as he drew a bit closer, joining his forehead with you. “If it’s too much, if you want to stop, tell me to stop, okay? Because I don’t think I can hold back once you give me the heads-up.”

You sighed. “I’m going to pretend that I’m drunk and I’m letting you do this, okay?”

You didn’t wait for his response but made the first move, capturing his lips in a kiss and he eagerly responded, your lips fitting with each other like it was supposed to have happened that way. You shrugged his coat off, leaving him in his black button up shirt and took a step forward so he could hold you against him because you wanted to feel every bit of him as much as he wanted to. He drew apart, picking you up effortlessly and you laughed a bit as he placed you on the table and hastily put your stray hair away from your face as he kissed you again.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, not feeling much through all the layers your dress had. Wooyoung seemed to have recognised the problem and let one hand travel to your back to figure out what to do while he put his tongue in your mouth and you exchanged heated, wet kisses, the lewd sound of it filling the room because you both knew you were enjoying that way too much. You pushed him back and muttered, “The fucking dress you chose, Wooyoung.”

He laughed, peeking back and finding the hidden zip, glancing at you once before sliding it down and down. You held on to his neck as you rose up a little so he could drag it down, leaving you in-

“Wow,” he breathed, admiring the black lace undergarments that you wore on purpose tonight.

“Like what you see?” You dragged your heels up his leg. “You, shirt off, now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he winked, unbuttoning his shirt and putting his toned chest on display, about to take it off but you told him to leave it, bringing him back where he belonged- in your arms, legs wrapped around his waist and this time he bent you down as he kissed so passionately that you moaned loudly and tugged at his hair.

“Enough of that,” he muttered, “I’ve got other plans. Shall we take this to bed?”

“I think this is more… exciting,” you tilted your head, kissing the mark on his neck that you had left. “I think I should do this everyday so everyone knows who you belong to.”

“Oh?” He caressed your cheek. “I think everyone believes that’s Yeosang-”

“Shh…” you kissed his neck again, making him chuckle. “So. You’ve successfully managed to wipe off my lipstick and take my dress off. What’s next?”

“Let’s see…” he ran his hands down your shoulders, tracing your waist next and you let him run his hands everywhere on your body as if he was memorising it himself, engraving your curves in his mind. He began at the same spot on your neck, biting it, his hands going to your waist and sliding to hook your panties in his thumbs that he pulled up to make you moan. He let you guide his face wherever you wanted him, let you guide him down so he could plant another hickey on your chest, and then he was trailing kisses down your waist and you stifled your groans until he reached dangerously down and you gasped.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight, you hear me?” He promised and you nodded as he went up to kiss you again while his fingers found their way under your panties and slid along your wet folds once, twice and then thrice- but he was not letting you breathe as he kissed you as well. Your legs were weak and apart now, one hand on his shoulder for support while the other moved around helplessly.

“What’s got you so wet for me, Princess?” he muttered as he broke the kiss and trailed his lips to your ears, nibbling at them. “Want me so bad? Huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered and he stopped right there.

“Beg for it, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Wooyoung-”

“I said, beg for it.”

You shut your eyes in defeat, feeling his finger still hovering over your painfully throbbing clit. “Please, Wooyoung, please. Do whatever you want.”

“Now that’s a good girl,” he chuckled, kissing your lips and then straightening, pinning your neck to the table with one hand while he finger fucked you and your mouth parted for air as you locked eyes with him- his gaze alone was making you breathless but the way he watched you while he slid his finger inside and out of you? It was mad.

“So fucking tight,” he slid another finger and you writhed under him as best as you could when he had you pinned down. “Never been fucked, have you?”

“I have,” you managed to say, “But…”

“Not like this, huh?” His voice was deep and he squeezed your neck a little when he found out exactly how to bring you to your high- his thumb rubbing your clit as his fingers teased your insides. He watched you carefully and just when it looked like you couldn’t take it anymore, he took his fingers out, examining them before making you look at him as he licked them clean and you, surprisingly enough, found it arousing enough to shiver entirely.

“Mmm, you taste better than I expected,” he commented, sliding your panties off in a second and admiring your swollen area. “So ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Please, just do something,” you whined shamelessly and he chuckled, spreading your legs apart as much as you could and blowing on your clit, making you gasp out loud, later horrified by the sound that came out of you as he laughed. “You’re gonna regret this-”

“Tomorrow, Princess,” he promised. “Tonight, it’s my turn,” he said, diving right in and planting a kiss on your clit, making you want to clench your thighs but his grip on your legs was too strong for that, so you told him to wait and got up a little.

“I want… to watch you,” you admitted. “Grab me a cushion.”

“Wow, okay, easy there,” he teased though his hard-on revealed just how much that turned him on. He made sure you were comfortable and then kissed you on your mouth until you tasted yourself on him before he got on his knees for you, just like you had wanted to, and began to kiss your inner thighs, trailing his lips to your core and practically making out with it before he started with his tongue sliding inside you, feeding on your moans as he ate you out. You tugged at his hair and when his nose brushed your clit, you almost screamed.

“Just… just like that,” you told him and he purposely brushed his nose against your clit again before continuing to lick your arousal like he wouldn’t get to ever again, his grip on your legs tightening so much you were sure they would leave a mark of their own. He found his pace, tongue sliding once inside you and then up your folds, caught you shivering and repeated that until you were moaning so loudly anyone passing by could hear. The knot in your stomach built and tightened at an uncontrollable pace and you pulled Wooyoung even closer to you which was when he sucked your clit and you reached the climax, shuddering violently as he finished his ministrations, leaving you feeling like you were on cloud nine and could never find your way back.

“I never thought…” he began, wiping his mouth, “that this could be so fulfilling.”

You didn’t respond, simply tried to catch your breath and get your brain to work again. Wooyoung started trailing kisses until he reached your face and made you look at him. “I was good, wasn’t I?”

“You… are such a slut,” you managed to say and he laughed out loud, kissing you once.

“You love that and you know it,” he patted your cheek, picking you up and taking you to your bed, going through your wardrobe and picking out a green nightgown. You tossed your bra away and he raised a brow- he hadn’t seen that yet.

“Like what you see, huh?” You said tiredly. “Come here.”

He tossed the gown on the bed and you made him lie down, sliding his pants down while he looked confused. You simply said, “You look like you need it too. Now be a good little boy and let me do this.”

He chuckled and you pressed his hard bulge, earning a moan instantly which made you smile. You slid his boxers down, revealing his hard length and suddenly, you were sure you could go for a much intense second round but you held yourself back- not tonight. Not now. So you rubbed your hands up and down his length, making his eyes roll back with pleasure and you kissed the tip of it, licking down a stripe and then jerking him off, his breathy moans filling the silence of the room. You made him watch you please him until he came all over himself.

“I’m a good girl, alright?” You smirked as you grabbed your discarded panty and wiped his cum off of his stomach, making him groan and laugh. “I clean up well.”

“You’re too much,” he shook his head. “You… you’re too much for me.”

“Please, you have seen nothing yet,” you promised, getting on top of him and kissing him deeply, making his length rest between your parted folds and you dared to grind once, the both of you moaning. “You… have seen nothing yet, Wooyoung.”

With a final kiss, you wore your nightgown and he grabbed his boxers, about to get up but you grabbed his arm. “You can sleep here, you know.”

“I don’t think I can hold myself back if I do,” he shook his head, getting up and wearing the rest of his clothes. “Maybe next time… I might.”

You smiled at that and he kissed your forehead before telling you to get some sleep, but you lay lovestruck all night.

—----------------------------

“That’s it. I’m going home. Pack your stuff, Hongjoong and Seonghwa-”

Wooyoung laughed at that and you glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “What? I’m only offering to help!”

“He’s mocking me, don’t you see?” You turned to your Right Hand and Advisor. “He purposefully announces that I am avoiding horse-riding, mentioning nothing of my injury so everyone would think I’m scared of horses- which I am, a little, also thanks to this brat!”

“Oh, come on, are you still sour about that one time? We were 13!”

You were 13, visiting Wooyoung. That was probably the summer your relationship started changing from inseparable friends to frenemies, mostly because Wooyoung was always pranking you and teasing you about something. He had played a prank with a horse, making you believe the horse had gone rogue and you almost thought you would die. He got a beating from his mother after that incident but that didn’t stop him from being a smug ass and joking about it every now and then.

You were a bit traumatised after that and it always took you a while to get used to horses before you’d feel comfortable again. But this time, you really had your ankle injury as an excuse to avoid riding, though now your ankle was fully healed and it was about time you went back…

“I’ll take my time getting comfortable with the horses. I don’t trust him. I’m not taking up his offer, please translate it to him because he seems to not be understanding anything I’ve said so far.”

Seonghwa groaned loudly. “You both still act like you’re 13. Wooyoung, please stop being a jerk about this. And y/n… stop overreacting. If anyone else had offered you the same thing, you would have accepted.”

“Yes, I would have, but this is Wooyoung!” You pointed at him and even Hongjoong started laughing along with Wooyoung. “I cannot trust him!”

“Really?” Wooyoung raised a brow. “You don’t trust me with this, but you trust me enough to do other things-”

“Shut up,” you glared at him, looking at Seonghwa. “What can I do to get him off my back?”

“I’ll join, okay?” Seonghwa got up. “If Wooyoung tries anything funny I’ll stop him.”

“Does it have to be him?” You groaned.

“Honestly, you two need to work out your differences- you’re both adults now,” Hongjoong began and you almost cried. Your own court was ganging up on you. “I don’t get you two. One moment you’re trying to kill each other and the next…”

You met Wooyoung’s eyes and he passed you a flirty gaze before winking, and you stifled a smile. Hongjoong seemed to have caught that- “See! I don’t know what’s wrong with you two. What do you say, Seonghwa? They look chummy enough to do this together, let’s leave them be.”

“Wait, what did I do?” You laughed but Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren’t having any of it.

“They’re kids, both of them. You, Princess, are going to be riding a horse by yourself by the end of this session, otherwise I’ll make you do my paperwork for a week.”

You passed Seonghwa a death glare before asking Wooyoung to lead the way, ignoring how the two snickered behind your back. Wooyoung was clearly enjoying it but he promised to be serious.

And surprisingly, he was serious. He made you feel out the horse, made you get comfortable with it until you could pet it, and then he made you walk it with you. You were squirming most of the time but started to feel comfortable after about half an hour, which was when he helped you up. You winced a little as you settled in front of him on the horse.

“What’s wrong? Ankle still hurts?” He asked.

“Just wrong footing, it’s okay,” you told him and he patted your thigh.

“You should be more careful, y/n. How did you get it injured in the first place?”

“Aw, are you worried?” You turned and scratched his chin, making him shut his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, well, I fell from the stairs.”

“So clumsy,” he shook his head. “You should take good care of your body, okay?”

You shrugged, holding the reins and he put his hands on yours, ready to ride. He rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering, “What do you say I give you a foot massage tonight?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you very much,” you answered politely and he laughed, kissing your neck before drawing back and you gasped-

“Not in public!”

“Come on, I do that to everyone, no one cares,” he simply said and you shrugged- that was true.

“Do you do that to everyone too?” You asked as you rode at a slow pace.

“What?” Wooyoung’s teasing tone was an indication that he understood exactly what you meant.

“Whatever you’ve been doing with me lately,” you swallowed. “Do you mess around?”

“Nope,” he promised. “Only you.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach, stifling your smile. “Better be only me while we’re… together?”

“Together,” he squeezed your hands before tightening the reins so the horse increased its pace. “How are you feeling?”

“What?” You asked after a moment.

“About the horse. Are you okay?”

You realised you’d been too busy feeling Wooyoung’s body against you, his hands on yours, his words and breath in your ear, his face against your side that you’d totally forgotten about the horse and your little fears about messing up.

“I- I’m okay, surprisingly.”

“I knew I’d make a good distraction,” Wooyoung said proudly.

“You do actually,” you laughed. “I don’t think I’m distracted enough though.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung drew closer so the rocking of the horse made you fall in a rhythmic movement with his body. “How about now?”

“I think… I’d need aftercare,” you teased and he chuckled deeply.

“Do you flirt like this with anyone?”

“Only you,” you said and he shook his head, speechless for once.

As promised, once you were all done with the horse-riding and you were following the others to dinner, falling behind as you looked around for Yuju, Wooyoung grabbed your arm and put a finger on his lips to tell you to stay quiet, taking you around the corridors until he tried one of the doors and found a small storage room, taking you in and shutting the door, immediately cupping your face and kissing you as if it was his last time. Your knees went weak in shock and you held on to him as you kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck.

“God, I missed your mouth,” he pecked your lips. “I missed you.”

You hmm-ed against his neck, making him exhale deeply. You pecked his neck and then caressed his face. “I’ve been aching for you, Wooyoung.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he laughed in defeat. “What do you want me to do?”

You kissed him in answer and his hands went to slide under your blouse, holding your bare waist as you explored each other’s mouths, not even bothering to stay quiet. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties and you gasped in his mouth, shaking your head.

“Not now- we’ll be late for dinner. Everyone will notice.”

“Tonight then?” He asked.

“I’m sleeping with Yuju tonight. Tomorrow night?”

“I have to go to town tomorrow night with Yunho,” he said and you groaned. “I’ll find you, though. Tomorrow.”

You nodded, kissing him one last time before exiting first and making up the excuse of trying to find Yuju when your friends asked why you were late. Wooyoung arrived a few moments later and you ate dinner without meeting eyes, the remnants of desire still getting the better of you both.

That night, Yuju came over to your room and you both caught up on your lives now that you two finally had time alone. You two were eating chocolates on the bed as you talked about the flings back home, politics, family, and everything. She was one of your oldest friends so it always felt extremely comfortable with her. You were both bare with each other.

“So,” you shifted so you were lying down on your stomach like Yuju. “Any progress with Seonghwa?”

“No, but…” she smiled and hid her face and you poked her arm.

“But what? Why are you shy all of a sudden?”

“I don’t think I’m into Seonghwa anymore,” Yuju admitted, putting her hands on her cheeks.

“And my plan to get Seonghwa hitched fails yet again,” you sighed. “You look like you have more to tell.”

“Make a guess, y/n.”

You paused, your past conversations replaying in your head and you gasped. “You! You hooked up with San, didn’t you!”

Yuju laughed and you wowed in disbelief, asking what exactly happened. She sighed happily. “We were pursuing other people, teaming up to make them jealous. But during the ball, we never left each other’s side. We were too busy with each other, and before we knew it, the ball ended. He came to drop me to my room, and somehow… We ended up making out-”

“Ew! That’s cute but disgusting.”

“We were drunk,” Yuju laughed, slapping your arm. “But he… oh my god, y/n, I’ve never been kissed better. You need to get San to kiss you once because he-”

“Yuju, shut up!” You groaned.

“And then we sat on the floor all night talking and making out. We passed out I don’t know when, but we woke up in each other’s arms then, pretty sober. I guess we couldn’t go back from there…”

“So you two are now an actual thing?” You asked and Yuju shrugged.

“Maybe. We haven’t put a name to it but he asked me out on a date this weekend so I guess… we might be?”

“Wow, you’re living the life, huh?” You smiled. You were happy for them, though this was the most unexpected outcome. “You guys actually make a cute couple, but I’ll need a few days to process this-”

“I know,” she laughed. “It really was unexpected for us too. Anyways, enough about me. Tell me who you’re seeing these days because you’ve been glowing lately.”

“Really?” You frowned. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Lies,” she sang. “You reek of love.”

You made a face but couldn’t stifle your smile and Yuju repeatedly poked you on your stomach until you gave in. “Okay, okay. Wooyoung and I may have, uh…” you tried to find a word but couldn’t. “We, uh… we’re not dating, hell no. But we-”

“You hooked up with Wooyoung!” Yuju’s scream, you were pretty sure, could be heard for miles. You tried to shut her up but she was dancing around the room.

“I fucking knew it!” She laughed in disbelief. “I knew there was no way you weren’t fucking each other. You’d be blind if you haven’t noticed how Wooyoung looks at you-”

“He’s a pervert, of course he looks at me like that-”

“No, you don’t see, y/n,” Yuju shook her head knowingly. “I know it when a man is in love, and I know that you both would rather die than admit you’re in love, but everyone knows it, you hear me? Everyone sees it.”

“No they don’t,” you frowned.

“Yes, they’re all pretty sure you have something going on.”

“That’s old news though,” you said. “People always thought there was something between me and Wooyoung even when there was nothing but pure hate.”

“But how do you feel about him now?” Yuju wiggled her brows.

You sighed deeply, sitting and drawing your knees to your chest. “I don’t know, actually. We’re only taking advantage of each other, it’s nothing like that, but… I’ve never felt so… alive, Yuju. He brings out a different person in me- one that even I don’t know existed.”

“Oh?” Yuju raised her brows. “Tell me more.”

“Well,” you thought about it. “He just… makes me feel more confident in myself. I don’t know if he’s pretending to or if it’s real but he makes me feel like a fucking queen which is funny because in public we miss no chance to humiliate each other, but when we’re alone… even when we’re not hooking up which is pretty recent by the way, he just always says or does something that makes me confused.”

“It sounds like you didn’t really get that part right. It doesn’t sound like you’re actually taking advantage of each other.”

“We’re only hooking up while we’re here, because we’re both lonely.”

“Yeah, whatever helps you both sleep at night,” Yuju dismissed. “So the hickey was from him, right?”

You passed her a side-eye before nodding. “I was so confused when he did that to me. He made me watch it. Like we were having a cute platonic moment and suddenly he does something like that and expects me to be the same? And then he’s driving me insane so I decided to get revenge, and one thing led to another and somehow, we’re here.”

“Damn,” Yuju breathed. “You’ll figure it out soon, I hope, but I don’t think you can go back from that.”

“I know, that’s what’s eating me up,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can go back from this, but…” you took a deep breath. “It’s only the beginning. I’ll think about that later.”

“Yeah, because right now you two are horny and are pretending to not be in love as you satisfy each other. What a great idea, especially when you two are always at each other’s throats!” Yuju laughed. “Must call for some wild sex-”

“Shut up,” you laughed, “Wait till you get it done with San. I can’t wait until he finds out what a hoe you can be.”

Yuju winked at you. “He’s not such a saint himself.”

“Really?” You frowned. “He acts like a ball of cloud so I don’t know…”

“He’s a monster-”

“Okay, that’s your cue to shut up,” you put your hands over your ears. “I want to keep my clean image of San intact, thank you very much.”

—-------------------------

You were dreaming.

The tension from your shoulders was relaxing, and all your worries were fading away, being kissed away, small pecks across whatever skin was exposed through your camisole. You were sleeping on clouds so you shifted, smiling to yourself, and the hands running across your arms were warm-

You gasped as you opened your eyes, getting up and getting your eyes to adjust to the darkness as you looked at the body beside you-

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” Wooyoung’s low voice asked, putting a worried hand over your shoulder. “I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” you told him, putting your hair away from your face. “Fuck, I thought I was dreaming. When- how did you get here?”

“I may have stolen some keys…”

You started laughing at that after a moment and it looked like that made Wooyoung relax too. He pulled you closer in a hug, cradling your body. “I’m sorry that I scared you. I was only going to sleep next to you so I was giving you a few goodnight kisses. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

This. Moments like this when you wondered if it would actually be so bad if you and Wooyoung got together. And this wasn’t the first time- even when you were friends- or frenemies, as everyone called you, you had these moments a lot, which was how you were able to tolerate Wooyoung. Yes, he was a menace, but he was also the most caring, loving person you knew.

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “It’s okay, Woo. You should have woken me up, I was waiting for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, only the full moon illuminating the room. “You waited for me?”

“You told me to, dumbass,” you slapped his chest. “What time is it anyway?”

“Around 2,” he told you and you nodded, shifting in his lap. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

Your stomach did a somersault. “Why waste the night sleeping?”

Wooyoung tilted his head as he looked down at you, one arm under you. He brought his hand to caress your face, looking at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked- there was clearly something eating him up but he shook his head before joining his lips with yours in the most slowest, sensual kiss you had ever received. He made you lie down on the bed as he continued to kiss you, slow and steady, one hand still caressing your face while the other traced your body. You found yourself lost in that pleasure- you never knew only kissing like this could make you feel so… bare. He broke apart, peppering kisses all over your face and making you giggle, then pecking your lips multiple times, never looking away from your eyes.

“Wooyoung,” you breathed. “You’re being… different.”

“Do you not like it?” He asked, waiting for your response and you frowned at how he wasn’t even teasing you about it.

“I like it,” you admitted. “Please continue.”

He smiled and got back to kissing you, trailing his lips down your neck and planting kisses there as well. You made a decision then- to not question Wooyoung. To let him be rough with you when he wanted, to let him be this soft with you even though it was making it feel like you two weren’t simply just hooking up for the heck of it, but-

Making love. That’s what it was right now, as Wooyoung took off your camisole, leaving your upper body bare. He gently ran his hands over your waist, up to your chest, palming your breasts before going down on one and kissing it, and then the other, playing with you until you moaned out loud enough to his liking. You pushed him away to take off his shirt as well, running your own hands down his chest, tracing his sculpted muscles before kissing him again and then your tongues were exploring each other’s mouth as things picked up a pace and you tugged at his hair a bit roughly, making him groan into the kiss.

“I love it when you do that to me,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe before trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking on his way down to your waist, uneven moans escaping your mouth which just seemed to please him further. He pushed the sheets away, taking off your panties and slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs, making you writhe under his touch.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he breathed against your left thigh, trailing kisses up until he reached your core and you gasped when he planted a kiss on your swollen clit before licking a stripe up your wet folds, scoffing at how wet you were just from kissing alone. “Do I make you feel so good? That you’re soaked like this?”

You bit your lips at the sudden change in his tone and he didn’t wait for your answer as he started playing with your clit using his thumb, his tongue diving right in and you let out a strangled breath, struggling to keep your thighs apart for him but then ditching the idea when he got rougher, sliding a finger in you and you clenched your eyes shut at the overwhelming sensation of the combination. He was soon sliding a second finger, glancing at you to make sure you were okay, diving deeper.

“So tight for me, aren’t you?” He got closer to your face, grabbing your chin. “You still haven’t answered my question, sweetheart.”

“What… question?” You asked, momentarily pausing when he shifted his fingers in you and started going at a slower pace, also slowing your approaching high.

“How do I make you feel?” He asked again, running his thumb over your lips and pressing against your clit with his thumb.

“So… good,” you breathed, overthrown by the action. “Please, I’m close-”

“Then tell me exactly how I make you feel,” he asked in a low voice.

“You’re driving me insane,” you told him, “But I bet you can see that too.”

He smiled in satisfaction, kissing you deeply as he started rubbing your clit in circles, the feeling of that and his fingers pumping in and out of you finally making you reach your climax and you moaned in the kiss as you squirmed, wearing out the high. He drew apart, examining the mess you had made on his hands and shaking his head at it before he licked them clean and then-

Then put his fingers in your mouth. “How do you like that? Do you like tasting yourself on me?”

You sucked them clean and breathed. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near done yet,” he promised and that quickly, a new wave of arousal spread through your body. You brought him down with you and shifted positions, getting on top of him and then slowing down pace-

If he had confused you, so could you. So you forgot everything and started kissing him gently, slowly, like he had. You found him motionless for a few moments, only kissing you back before he brought his hands to your waist, slowly caressing the skin as he let you kiss him for however long you liked.

You pulled at his lower lip before drawing back, kissing every place you liked- his forehead, the mole under his eye, the tip of his nose, his Adam's apple- that earned a groan and you started to grind on him, feeling his very hard bulge through his pants.

“What would you like to do tonight?” You asked him as you rode him at a steady pace. “Tell me how you want me tonight, Wooyoung. I’ll let you do anything.”

“Anything?” He asked, running his hands across your shoulders.

“Anything,” you nodded, pecking his chin. “Do you want to feel yourself inside me?”

Wooyoung shut his eyes at that, smiling like an idiot. “I didn’t think that’s how you’d approach that topic.”

“It’s about time, though,” you unbuckled his pants. “So? Want me to ride you?”

“I don’t know if we can-”

“I mean… I’m on contraceptives. I could let you… fuck me raw.”

“Oh god,” he groaned, getting up and capturing your mouth in a heated kiss, drawing apart. “Can I?”

You nodded, helping him take off his pants and underwear in one motion, his hard length free now. You shifted so he could take care of it and he understood, getting on top of you and positioning himself at your entrance, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds already making you feel a rush inside yourself. You threw your head back and groaned as he entered slowly, making sure you were okay, caressing your skin as he fully entered you, experimentally moving inside you-

“Gosh, you’re so fucking tight, y/n,” he groaned with you. “This good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Let me get on top of you.”

“As you wish,” he shifted your positions and you felt fuller, grinning at the sensation. Wooyoung ran his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them as you started riding him, his eyes watching you rock against him, loving the way you bounced on top of him, your moans mingling as you found your pace. He sat up a little, putting his arms around you as if he could bring you closer, kissing you again and you couldn’t get enough of the feeling- skin on skin, nothing keeping you apart.

“I love this so much,” you breathed, your legs keeping him tucked close as you rocked slowly. “I love this so fucking much, Wooyoung.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “I’ve never felt so good, you’re…” he kissed you. “Incredible.”

You wanted to tell him more. You wanted to tell him to stop. You wanted to tell him that you always wanted to feel like this, that you wished this would never end, but you also wanted to tell him to stop saying he never felt like this, that you were incredible, because you couldn’t take it. He seemed to have understood that, though.

“What’s holding us back, y/n?” he dared ask.

“I don’t know,” you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Just… right now, just ruin me and then hold me in your arms for the rest of the night. Can you do that?”

He kissed you in answer, shifting again so he was back to being on top of you, steadily pumping in and out of you as you kissed, as he wiped the tears that left your eyes. Your kisses got sloppier as you both approached your highs, moans louder, hands wilder as they explored each other, and when you finally reached your climax together-

It was epic. There was no feeling to describe it- the feeling of his body quivering on top of you, arching against each other, his moans and yours ringing in the air, every nerve in your body reaching a euphoric high as warmth filled you- you thought you could die from pleasure, that’s how intense it was. He rocked in you unsteadily as you both finished before falling on top of you and you held him close, breathless.

There was no need for words, not anymore. You shifted so you were half on top of him when he pulled out, drawing the covers on top of you both. You drew his hair away from his face, kissing his forehead and pecking one of his eyelids before joining his forehead with yours. He caressed your face ever so lovingly, kissing you once before drawing apart and continuing to caress your cheekbone.

The two of you, in each other’s arms, watched each other, sure affirmations passed in the way you caressed each other’s skin or kissed until you fell asleep.

—-------------------------

Something seemed to have changed between the two of you ever since that night, and you weren’t sure if it was for the better or worse.

Wooyoung was still, well, Wooyoung. He got worse at times with teasing you in public or making fun of you until you cursed him out loud in front of everyone, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was what you two did in private that was different.

He passed up no opportunity to get you alone and kiss you, at least, or indulge you in some dry humping. Those stolen moments, though, were nothing compared to what was going on at night time.

At first, he had been a bit distant, but then you, during one of your makeout sessions, joked about how he was so gentle that night that you wondered if someone had possessed him. You told him that you had heard a rumour that even San could be a monster in bed-

“That’s who you suggested, wasn’t it?” You recalled and Wooyoung’s gaze got hard. “I distinctly remember you telling me San would make a good suitor. Maybe I should consider-”

He obviously had no idea that you were joking and San was now with your best friend, but you wondered if it was only jealousy when he fucked you like no tomorrow, on the floor. He was rough, he was filthy, and he made you come more times in a span of an hour then you could count, making you almost cry by the end of it, but when he rocked inside of your oversensitive walls to approach your almost-there climax, he had the audacity to choke you when you came, making it more intense than it had to be as you finally cried through it.

He breathed harshly in your ear. “You’re mine. You hear me?”

“I’m yours,” you answered, squeezing his arm.

“Say it louder.”

“I’m yours,” you said with surety and he finally came inside you, collapsing beside you.

Moments like those made you wonder where you two stood. You decided to ask him if he ever called you ‘his’ again, but he didn’t. Not again. You two kissed, fucked roughly, sometimes lovingly, but he never called you his again.

And with each passing day, that made the hole in your heart bigger.

Had you started something you couldn’t handle? Did you take him easy because he was Wooyoung, the friend you loved and hated at the same time? Did you think you wouldn’t fall for him if you were mean to him?

Because you were falling for him-

No. You had fallen for him long ago. Maybe before you two ever kissed.

But it was Wooyoung. You never knew what was going through his head, so you resorted to being mean to him. If your feelings were one-sided, he would never let you live it down. Perhaps you realised that ages ago and put this wall between you as your defence mechanism. He had you wrapped around his fingers all along, yet you never noticed until it was too late-

Until you experienced what it would be like to be loved by Wooyoung- if you could call what he did ‘love’- he would find your eyes from across the room and share a smile, have your back whenever Haeun or someone else bullied you (mostly because he claimed only he was allowed to bully you), look at you with an intensity that made you fold in yourself, kissed you like he needed it, held you as if you could break, as if he never wanted to let you go, and worshipped your body as he made love to you.

You realised then, that if things stayed the same and you two parted just like this, you’d never be able to move on. You needed to let him know some way, but you also needed to find out what he felt, because it was mostly his fault for making you feel so confused. If he had simply only come to fuck you and leave, you would have understood. You would have known his only goal was to satiate his somewhat questionable desires so you’d do the same. You’d perhaps hate him more by the end of it, but since he was almost acting like he was actually your boyfriend now? He needed to be responsible for it.

Two months were nearing their end just like that. You looked up at the sky and sighed- you had chosen this spot on the roof to get some air as you sorted your thoughts out. There was another secret passageway that you accessed to get to the roof- one that Yunho told you of years ago. You had asked him a few days ago if going to the roof was still safe, which was how you found yourself here tonight, the cool breeze relaxing you as you stretched-

You heard footsteps behind you and you turned, breaking into a smile. “Think of the devil.”

“I thought you’d be here,” Yunho said, sitting beside you on the bench. “Thinking about me?”

“I was wondering when you’d come find me here,” you admitted. “It’s been a while since we caught up, right?”

“Yeah, I really don’t get time to breathe these days,” he admitted, laughing. “My idea to call everyone here was good but I didn’t know it’d be this tiring.”

“Well, let’s hope you get to be the guest next summer instead of the host,” you smiled. “It’s really fun here though. Are you enjoying it?”

“Oh, I am,” he nodded enthusiastically. “There is a lot going on here.”

“Sure is,” you scoffed, knowing he was referring to the latest news. “You were right about someone going back engaged. Just never thought it’d be San of all the people.”

“Yeah,” he whistled. “I hope their parents are as enthusiastic about this idea as they are.”

“I hope so too. I hope it’s not just something they’re feeling in… the moment. Yuju’s not the type though, and neither is San.”

“What about you? Found a suitor yet?” He wiggled his brows.

“Is that what we came here for? To find partners? You should have said in your letter ‘Matchmaking Service’ then- and what about you?”

Yunho grinned at what you said. “Me? I’m still a loner.”

“That’s what I’m asking, you idiot. Why are you still a loner? I thought she was interested in you?”

“She wasn’t serious about this. I don’t do flings,” he admitted and you felt a pang in your chest but also felt sorry for him.

“What’s her name? I’m going to kill her for breaking your heart first thing tomorrow-”

“No,” he laughed loudly. “I’m good. No hearts broken here. You, though, look like you just broke up without getting in a relationship.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What do you know?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head innocently.

“Come on, spill. You can’t lie to me, Yunho, you know that.”

Yunho considered for a moment. “I don’t know much. All I know is Wooyoung drunk-cried and kept calling your name.”

“Wait, Wooyoung got drunk? That’s more surprising than him crying.”

“I know,” he sighed. “You know he’s always in his senses when he’s drunk, right? He only pretends to be drunk to tease you. But this time, it was just him and me. He actually got drunk. He didn’t say anything else so I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he was a mess, y/n.”

Your heart sank as you processed what he had said. Why would Wooyoung be a mess? Was it just because he wanted to be with you because he was drunk, or…

“Are you going to tell me anything? Because I know for a fact something happened between you two before Wooyoung became a drunken mess.”

“Really? How?”

“You two are not the best actors,” he said and you pursed your lips in shame. “Maybe no one else has noticed but honestly? Not subtle at all.”

You scoffed at that. “That’s on Wooyoung. He’s shameless.”

“You look pretty lovestruck when you think he’s not watching,” Yunho said and you sighed.

“Okay, yeah. We’re… having a fling, if you can call it that-”

“Damn, not what I expected.”

“Yeah, whatever. Problem is… I may have caught feelings for him. And now I’m realising I’ve had feelings for him from way before.”

“You could have asked me, I would have confirmed it for you,” Yunho laughed. “You’ve always looked at Wooyoung differently, y/n, whether you admit it or not-”

“That’s because he’s a menace-”

“And he also treats you differently than the rest of us- or any of us, for that matter,” Yunho added and you shut up. “You’re both too hotheaded, egotistic to ever admit you could genuinely like each other. But… I think now’s a good time.”

“Well, I’m not the one who’s doing that,” you raised your hands in surrender. “And you can tell Wooyoung that he can stop being a drunken mess, man up and talk to me about it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll convey the message,” Yunho nodded. “I hope everything sorts out. It’s be weird if you two got awkward after this.”

“Yeah,” you sighed again. “It’d be strange.”

“Because,” Yunho began, “You two always looked like you could kill each other one second and make out the next. Now it’s different because you look like you could do both of those at the same time.”

You laughed at that. “I really could. I should make up my mind, huh?”

Two days later, Wooyoung was in your room, roaming around and moving everything from its place subtly to annoy you as you finished writing and signing some important documents from back home. You signed the last one and took a deep breath, arranging everything before looking at Wooyoung from where you were sitting, currently poking at the fire.

“You seem to be tired.”

“I’m not,” Wooyoung turned to you. “What makes you think so?”

“You’re not talking,” you pointed out and he gaped at you more in surprise that you could notice that.

“Not tired,” he repeated, “just thinking about some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“You know,” he tossed the poker away, “to keep myself from fucking you right on this table with all these ‘important documents’ under you. Maybe I could sign on your body too. Seal it with a stamp, eh?”

It was more Wooyoung’s dark gaze than his words that made you bite your lips and look away. “Shut up.”

“No, really,” he was smiling as he came closer. “I could do that right now too.”

It was amazing how quickly you became aroused when he said stuff like this.

One moment you were sitting, and the next?

You were on that very table where he had done something like this for the first time. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping him locked to your body as you put your arms around his neck, his hands holding your neck and angling you better as you exchanged open mouthed kisses, not caring how much sound you were making because the sound of your wet kisses made you both crazy.

“Oh god,” you moaned into his mouth. “You’re so good to me, baby.”

“You like when I do this?” He asked, kissing your neck just like he had the first time and you gasped, clenching his hair in your fist as he marked you, making you squirm underneath him. He broke apart to admire his work, smiling proudly and you slapped his arm.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said.

“Like what?”

“Just… shut up and kiss me,” you started unbuttoning his shirt and he obeyed, kissing you, letting you take off his shirt and run your hands all over his toned body, let you put a hand in his pants and palm his cock as your kisses got more heated and deeper, let you take off his pants which was when he broke apart to slide the dress off of you as well, laughing as you undressed in a hurry until nothing but air kept you apart.

You spread your arms and he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, nuzzling the space sweetly as you both rocked back and forth.

Another moment that should not have happened.

You urged him up, trailing your lips across his face and asked him to get inside you. He scoffed in amusement, “No prep?”

“I don’t need it,” you scoffed back and he shook his head when he noticed how soaked you were. He rubbed the head of his cock over your clit and wet folds a few times, making you almost break apart before sinking inside you slowly, deeply, settling and letting you both delve in the sensation. You resorted to kissing his neck in the meanwhile and he started moving inside you slowly, surely, like he had done so many times now.

You sighed in pleasure, throwing your head back and Wooyoung gently laid you on the table, surprising you when he held your legs and put them on top of his shoulders- a new position that made his cock feel way deeper inside you, the sensation of his movements also heightened. He noticed your parted mouth and he moved experimentally, making you both gasp.

“Gosh, you’re so tight. You like this?” He asked and you nodded, letting him hold your legs by the calf as he banged relentlessly into you as if challenging you to moan louder with each thrust, and you could do nothing but deliver, your climax approaching quicker than it had in any of your previous sessions.

“I’m- so close, Wooyoung, please,” you managed to say, trying to hold on to something on the table but finding nothing.

“Yeah?” He breathed. “I’m gonna make you see stars tonight, baby.”

That was a promise he fulfilled as he thrust deeper into you and you came all over him, breaking apart right there. Wooyoung chuckled deeply at the sight, pulling out of you.

“I’m not done with you, yet,” he told you and a faint smile crept on your lips as you asked him to take you to bed. He picked you up effortlessly and then you were on your bed and catching your breaths, him caressing your face as he kissed you deeply.

“Tell me something tonight, y/n,” he breathed against your ears after trailing kisses down that path. “Would you have done this with anyone else?”

“Done what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“This,” he looked at you and you tucked his hair back, tracing his jawline. “I want to know if it could have been anyone else instead of me.”

Moments like these.

“And… why would you want to know that?”

You could see that he was holding back, shrugging it off with a smile. “I just do.”

“Well,” you shifted in his arms. “No one else is such a fucking menace and no one drives me crazy like you do, so I guess… probably not?”

“Gosh, I’m gonna miss this mouth of yours so much,” Wooyoung kissed you once and caressed your face. “I have to go back soon, baby.”

“How soon?” You managed to ask.

“I don’t know yet, but I know we’re short on time,” he kissed your cheek. “I want to make the most of the time we have.”

You were pretty sure he had heard the sound of your heart break- or at least caught the look in your eyes. You nodded and he paused in the middle of caressing your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said after a moment, smiling and shifting in his arms. “Let’s just make the most of the time we have, yeah?”

He nodded though he wasn’t smiling anymore. “How do you want me tonight?”

An open invitation. You smiled sadly as you took the leap of risk.

“I want you to hug me. I want you to kiss me like there’s no tomorrow. I want you to make love to me, not fuck me like you just did. Then I want to hold you as we sleep, and wake up with you.”

Wooyoung’s heart sank. “You know, I would have done that anyway.”

“You know, you’re really bad at keeping boundaries, Wooyoung,” you started, the rage you’d been subsiding for a while now finally brimming out. “From the moment we started whatever this is… I don’t know-” you broke off and Wooyoung held your hands as an attempt to make you face him.

“Finish saying that,” he practically ordered and you glared at him.

“I just want to know where we stand, Wooyoung. Are we ending this tonight? Are we going to be just friends the next time we meet and pretend nothing happened here? Can you forget what happened here?”

“If you want me to forget, I will,” his jaw clenched though he seemed calm.

“And if I don’t?” You dared ask and he met eyes with you, a thousand words unspoken between you two. He moved to join his forehead with you and the way your heart fluttered was unlike any moment you had shared so far.

“I don’t know what to do with you, y/n. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, god,” you drew away and hid your face in your hands as you processed that. “Just tell me how you want this to end.”

“I don’t want us to break up,” his voice was low. “I… tell me what you want. I’ll be okay.”

“I’ve told you so many times,” you cried, finally looking at him, “in so many ways. I’m still afraid you’ll make fun of me if I show you what I really want.”

“God, no. I would never make fun of something like that, so tell me how you feel about me, please. I’m begging you, and I really hope we’re on the same page here, y/n, because I don’t know how I’ll move on if we aren’t.”

“You’re stupid,” you laughed between crying, making him laugh as well. “You’re a menace and you don’t let me breathe, but you’re also my best friend and you know me like no one else does. I don’t know how long I’ve loved you like this, but it’s long enough that I got so confused, and then you pulled this stunt and now we’re here and I’m a mess because if you don’t love me like I do… I don’t think I can move on.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wooyoung laughed, kissing your knuckles. “I’m only like this when I’m with you. You know that, right?”

You nodded and he continued. “You’re my oldest friend and I’ve loved you for so long now. I took such a risk pulling this stunt but when you… when you kissed me back that night? You looked like you wanted to hurt me. What could I make of that? I let you have your way with me, and I kept falling deeper in love with you. I love it when you call me yours. I love it when you tell me there’s no one else who could make you feel this way, but had I known these were your confessions of love, I would have dropped to my knees right there.”

You laughed at that. “You’re so… oh god, I can’t look at you right now,” you drew away and hid your face in the blankets but Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it- he got on top of you, littering kisses everywhere on your back until you had to stop him because it tickled.

“Look at me,” his voice was deep and he crawled up to you, pinning your wrists to the side as he made you meet eyes with him. “You’re beautiful in every way- even this dirty mouth of yours,” he pecked your lips and you grinned. “You’ve always had me wrapped around your fingers, do you know that? I’m always waiting for you. I don’t know how long I’ve felt like this but I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you. I love you so much, y/n-” he kissed you deeply and you met his energy back as if you could tell him that yes- you felt exactly the same.

He let go of your wrists only to hold you to himself as he kissed you passionately, and now that your feelings were out in the open you couldn’t believe how different it felt. He craned one arm under you and held the back of your neck, the other repeatedly caressing your face as you basically devoured each other, and you made his cock slide between your folds so you could grind on him as you kissed, moaning into it and he didn’t let you breathe once. He swallowed every strangled gasp and groan that left you as he grinded back on you.

With much effort, you pulled him away only to look at him pleadingly and he understood, sliding his cock inside you and groaning loudly, peppering kisses all over your face before he hugged you.

“Gosh, I love you so much,” he tried moving but you kept your arms wrapped tightly around him, locking your legs around him.

“Please, stay like this for a moment,” you breathed, kissing his cheek. “I love this feeling. Tell me you love me again.”

“You’re going to end me,” he nuzzled your face with his nose. “I love you to death.” Your walls twitched at that and he groaned in your ears. “You like it when I tell you how much I love you?”

“Yes,” you sighed. “Oh, gosh, yes.”

“You’re mine,” he said and your walls twitched again and he couldn’t take it anymore- he thrusted inside you deep and hard, making you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming. “You hear me? You’re mine to love and mine to fuck.”

“I’m all yours,” you rocked against him. “I love you. I love you so much that it’s breaking me apart.”

Wooyoung nodded, kissing you again as he increased his pace, his thrusts wild but his kisses gentle, murmuring about how much he loved this repeatedly in your ears and when he groaned in the crook of your neck as he thrusted hard, you finally came with an unexpected rush, him joining seconds later but he kept thrusting to it as if he could mark it in your walls, deep, that he was yours and you were his.

You caught your breaths as you lay in each other’s arms and you cleared your throat. “You know, if you hadn’t been such a fucking idiot, we could have figured this out way earlier and I would not have felt like shit this whole time-”

“Shh…” he pecked your nose. “I don’t regret doing it this way. It was fun, no?”

“I’m pretty sure I would have rejected you if you asked nicely,” you wondered, nodding. “So I guess I should be thankful that you’re a menace?”

“You love it,” he grinned and you smiled, watching his breathing relax and his eyes shut.

“You better be coming to see me next month in my home with a proposal ring, Wooyoung. I’m not having you any other way.”

Wooyoung opened his eyes at that. “You sure?”

“You’re still not sure?!” You groaned. “Get out of my bed, Jung Wooyoung-”

“I’m only playing,” he laughed hysterically as you tried kicking him away. “Are we always going to be like this?”

“Isn’t this who we are?” You smiled. “No point changing now, right? Besides… I quite like you when you’re being annoying as hell.”

Wooyoung got on top of you and kissed you deeply, sliding his tongue in you and though you were tired, you found yourself making out with him again. He drew back, playing with the rock of your necklace.

“I quite like this filthy mouth of yours too. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Oh my god, mom’s gonna be so happy when she learns we finally gave in to each other.”

You frowned. “Did she already know?”

“Kind of. She made me buy this necklace for you and asked me to man up and confess. I had a better idea instead-”

The gasp that left you was unreal and you grabbed the nearest object- pillow- and smacked him hard, his high pitched laugh ringing in the air.

“Jung Wooyoung, you absolute brat!”

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rec:ateez jung wooyoung royal au

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